The haft of the hammer Orion had been using had worn new sores into his palm. He knew that because they reminded him of their presence as he gingerly shifted his satchel from one hand to the other. His elbow hurt. Again.

He had pretty much been running a small healing spell since he had arrived at school with little success in doing much more than easing his pains. Taking the bag off his shoulder had been a calculated choice to avoid having it knocked off by the press of people trying to enter through the main entrance. Now, he was quickly learning his half-assed calculations were not enough, and the joints in his arms, the sores on his palms, and the ache in his spine were proof of that.

The black colt never felt so sore in his life. Well, that wasn’t true, as he had managed to survive getting chased through a burning village, magically drained to the point of stupidity, and the idea of nearly being decapitated was probably an even worse kind of agony. Still, the forge work was a definite close second in terms of suckitude for him.

It did not help that today was Monday, and it felt like every pony the school had ever educated ever was there. Jostling him about like bumper cars as he slowly made his way down the halls. Shouting over one another in the packed school halls as they excitedly babbled about the weekend or some such nonsense. He didn’t know. He didn’t care; he only wanted them to get out of his way.

His ears laid flat more often than not as he avoided the most obnoxious groups traveling in packs that nearly took up the whole space. Giving them dirty looks that they ignored in favor of whatever inane topic they were discussing.

Though, he could not help but catch small snippets of conversation about the upcoming examinations. Orion did wonder what was so exciting about all that. Shooting glances at one another and giggling madly. Those few he managed to bypass were eyeing him in a manner that left him uncomfortable. Mostly the fillies.

It would seem that wouldn’t be going away anytime, after all.

“Christ, it's been weeks. My adoption should've been old news by now.” He lamented as he slammed his locker shut.

It had not once stopped. It did taper off somewhat, and he had hoped for complete anonymity once more in the future. But at this moment, it felt like day one again. The problem was that his new elevated station had brought renewed interest in him. He was now considered a minor noble, and in a school populated by the upper middle class and higher, he was considered a prime investment.

The letters had been the worst, either slipped into his locker or, worse, delivered by courier to the very home he now resided in. The most tame ones were flowery and spoke of getting together for tea some afternoon in the future. A private affair, of course, in which he would no doubt be badgered into revealing his interests and trying to charm their way into his heart, or pants. Whatever got them closer to their goal. Thankfully, he had been able to easily ignore those, though one courier had been hoping for a personal missive back.

She was sadly disappointed.

Yet, those did not bother him even half as much as the more salacious pages he had been subjected to reading. One he opened, as Emerald had insisted because she was so excited for him, even had an aroma that left little to the imagination as to what it was. He didn’t even get to read the letter out loud, which was something he now looked forward to as her face fell when the scent smacked her and the rest in their nostrils.

The girls giggled, including Free, who doubled over and looked like she was about to pass out. Clipper just groaned and shook his head good-naturedly. However, Emerald Bowspirit blanched, snatched the page from his fingers and hurled it into the hearth. Her horn came to light, and the page erupted into flames.

From then on, she did not insist on him reading every new letter he received to the family. So, there was a bright side to that embarrassment. Though, he should have expected something dirty, considering the source of the mail. It had not been Lazy Rain's first letter, though it might be her last, judging how the green motherly mare had scowled at the envelope. The filly hadn’t talked to him much after the first few months of their encounter last year. But he had seen her everywhere in the halls of the school. Or the cafeteria. Always watching him.

It had become so normal that he didn’t even care at this point. It's not like she approached him; other than staring and sending very dirty letters, the filly was too gunshy to come near. But he had already decided to keep an eye on the girl, if for no other reason than not wanting to get stabbed eventually. Crazy was going to be crazy.

Turning from his assigned locker, he made his way toward the east wing. His first class, Biology, was starting in half an hour, and he wanted to secure a seat in the back so it didn't feel like he had eyes burning into the back of his skull during class.

A familiar purple-stripped mane caught his eye as he turned a corner, and he about-faced to take a different route.

While she had most certainly stopped glaring at him in the halls when they passed by, he didn't want to look at her either. Since their little tif in the school library, Twilight Sparkle had been as cold as a blizzard to him. The mare had taken on an almost snooty air whenever they appeared in the same hall, street, or building.

He supposed smacking her in the face with the knowledge that he was only looked after so well by her mentor was because of her and nothing more had likely been too much for her to accept.

For Twilight, the idea that her Princess only kept an eye on Orion was because the mare didn't want to deal with the fallout of a sad, whiny filly had to be nothing more than baseless slander.

This, of course, was all made worse by the school rumor mill. It's why he avoided her these days. Everything from a lover’s quarrel to the Princess forbidding their secret relationship had exploded across the campus, and he couldn't escape the pointed questions fast enough.

Speaking of white Satan, he had received no summons or letter from the monarch in the castle. Which he was hoping was a good thing, but odds were Celestia either just didn’t know yet or she was at a loss on how to deal with the situation. She likely would figure something out, and when she did, he could expect something not to his benefit to come rolling down the steep hill of Shit Mountain.

Yet, while his friend treated him like one of the paintings in the halls, the other girls were now watching him like vultures. The year was only going to drag on from here.

Turning left, he found himself now stalking down the hall, a sneer of annoyance on his face. Students who passed by suddenly picked up the pace, avoiding his eyes as he glared at each passing one.

“Yeah, that's right. Keep your eyes to yourselves, assholes.”

After practically ripping open the door, he froze. Twilight was standing at the teacher's desk, placing a stack of papers down on the surface and adjusting them minutely to perfection. He glanced back out the door, frowning in confusion.

“Okay, how in the absolute hell did she get here before me?! Why the fuck is she even here to begin with?!” He blinked and realized the mane he had seen was striped with a teal color instead of the filly’s signature two-tone highlights. “God damnit. I got unintentionally duped.”

His newly rebuilt Radar picked up someone swiftly approaching the door, and with a sigh, he got out of the way and skirted the wall to the seats in the back. His eyes constantly drifted to her as he navigated the chairs stuck far too close together.

As he took a seat, he could see other students wearing puzzled looks of their own. Apparently, whatever was going on, this was something new to everybody. Twilight seemed to be working at ignoring their stares as hard as she ignored him.

“Again, what the hell is she even doing in school at all? She'd graduated a year early, didn’t she?” Another thought occurred to him. “ If she’s graduated, why was she sitting with me in the cafeteria three weeks ago? Shouldn’t she be under Celestia’s personal tutelage by now?”

The answer came in the form of Miss Dense Foliage, their biology teacher for the year.

She marched in, a permanent scowl already darkening her face as her eyes landed on the purple filly. She nearly sneered, and Twilight Sparkle, who nervously stood there under her scrutiny, wilted under the gaze.

“I see it's my turn to be “observed” by you.” The older mare groused.

“I-i am only supposed to be a teacher's aid, Miss Foliage.” His friend replied nervously.

“I know what you're supposed to be.” The biology teacher grumbled. “But I've heard about your little “habit”. I won't be tolerating that here-

“But-”

“-understand me? I'll not have you embarrassing me in my own classroom.” She huffed.

Dense Foliage was never one Orion would have called pleasant. In fact, he might refer to her as a bitch in impolite company. But this went beyond being downright rude, even if he could appreciate the flippancy with which she treated his friend's status. The mare had been born with a block on her shoulder rather than a chip, and her harsh critique of his and his fellow student's answer sheets had always left him with the feeling she was bitter at her life being stuck, as it were, as a teacher.

“Yes, ma'am,” Twilight said quietly.

Miss Foliage eyed her shrewdly, then nodded.

“Good.” She satisfactorily replied. “My notes?”

“On the desk, Miss Foliage.”

“Very good. Now, stand over there till I need you.” She gestured off into a corner of the room dismissively.

He shouldn't be mad. Not even irritated, but seeing her treated in such a way left an uncomfortable feeling in his gut. Despite their rocky relationship and current status, he felt defensive of the now thoroughly chastised purple pony.

A nasty little idea came to mind, one that he had to fight to push away from the forefront of his thoughts. He would not misbehave. Not now. He had promised to try and be better.

Events with the Shipwrights, Forager, and even Mrs. Evergarden had left him with the distinct impression that if he were to overcome his more direct nature, he would have to shut it all down for the sake of himself and those around him.

Huffing, he put quill to paper and began writing down notes as Dense Foliage started her instruction, ignoring Twilight's downtrodden face as best he could.

Like generations of students who had come before, Orion and the entire student body of colts stood just outside the gymnasium. Sheets of white had been strung up over the windows, blocking any kind of view from inside the converted gym. Two guardsmares flanked the entrance, and they all stood in a line to the left, avoiding the odd hoof traffic that came through.

While the others excitedly gabbed at one another, he stood aloof, bored to tears by the slow progress of one to three students being pulled in at a time to be stripped, measured, weighed, and whatever else the examiners wanted to drag them through. He simply shuffled along like the rest when one came out, and the other was pulled in.

Presumably, the fillies were also going through this. However, they likely had more space available on their side as there were way more of them than the males on his side.

That made sense to him, but the slow pace at which they were seen was annoying, though he had to admit to himself that he could just be dramatic. It was, after all, necessary. The only good to come out of it was that afternoon classes had been canceled, and a free hour was set up to do whatever they wanted. He planned to bury himself in the school library again.

Which he was going to take full advantage of today.

His previous class, the Study of Magic, was essentially just a historical line of Equestrian mages' discoveries of differing branches of magic and their perceived purpose. But it had given him interesting subjects to pursue.

One of the recent chapters they had discussed was Dark Magic, and he was interested to see what he could learn of it.

Sadly, the regular classes were largely normal, even routine, at this point. Most of what they knew he had already learned long ago. Periods in history held their charms, but the simplistic way Equestrian History was presented was almost infantile at best. Math and Equish were not much better, and for whatever reason, he was still stuck with Homemaking. He had been trying in vain to replace that with Self-defense class with little success.

That left Magic Theory and Application as his only outlet and interest, which he wholeheartedly enjoyed.

Yet, his theories and application classes had given him an itch that he had to satisfy, and the resources in the library would likely help scratch that itch. It wasn’t like he could go to the castle. He had shut the door on that avenue with his row with Twilight. But she had helped him immensely during their time together.

Orion had long since gotten a handle on what he affectionately called “Math-magic”, though they referred to it as the “Formulaic Input Commands” spell structure. Or FIC for short.

It was a bit strange, but the way he understood it was that it was basically putting in physics as a code. First, the values already present were broken down into algorithms used to establish what was in the environment itself. What you planned to do depended on what parameters were being set. If you wanted to create a fireball, temperature, and windspeed would be factors to measure and use. The issue was that you needed separate line codes to account for those details.

Fortunately, ponies had long since figured out how to cheat. The first structure, considered a pre-spell by many, automatically scanned the environment for you and imputed those values. It was a quick and easy method that saved time and mana in using. The pony, Starswirl the Bearded, had discovered and invented the technique way back when. Orion was beginning to see why Twilight had a crush on the ancient pony. The guy was brilliant.

The second part, or third, fourth, fifth, and so on, depends on what you were planning to do. In the case of the fireball, it was really a two-step process. Pre-spell scan, create the method of ignition, in this case, a spark and fuel in the form of pure mana, and hurl it by either physical means or a third line for air propulsion.

Despite his natural ability to mimic what he saw, understanding the steps and the processes was way more complicated than he had realized. That purple filly had filled in an awful lot of the blanks for him over the years. Yet, there was still a lot to learn.

The more advanced classes he was taking now still began with the basic formula. However, depending on what was done with it, another layer had to be added; that was the so on and so forth. According to every teacher, the maximum number of layers a spell could have was seven, but there were a myriad of ways to manipulate each layer. Meaning a whole lot of different outcomes could happen. Fireball had one layer.

Say you wanted to summon something with capesso instead. First, account for the change in location for mass, meaning swapping air for a more solid object like the book he had taken from Backwater those many years ago. The next layer would involve negotiating with the ley lines by adjusting for the transfer. While one could not see the transmission in higher planes of existence, one still had to account for mass being squeezed through. Thus, a third layer was added to negate mass for the time being. As long as space was achieved neutrally at the end of the spell, things went off without a hitch. There seemed to be some truth to the old adage that reality hated inconsistency.

He had quickly figured this out when he was much younger, but it was by sheer happenstance and only vaguely at that. This gave him an unfair advantage over the other more naturally gifted and powerful students, but his ignorance also put him behind in more advanced spells, which was why he struggled so much in the beginning. His previous understanding of science and math from his world did help immensely, but ultimately the purple pony of books saved his ass.

The other reason he was so interested was that despite the study and practice of Dark Magic, it was heavily frowned upon as an evil thing despite it not being anything of the sort.

There were even those in the Tower who were currently researching and experimenting with the craft in one form or another. However, most mages and casters were largely locked out of learning it for the degree of difficulty involved in controlling it.

His hope was that there might be a dusty collection of archaic books left forgotten in some corner of the school library that he could pilfer and learn from. However, getting to them would be a challenge if they were actually somewhere in the vast repository, which would likely be in the restricted section. It's not an ideal place for him to get to. But he figured if he was smart about it, he might be able to change folk’s perception of the little-known craft. After all, despite its source, magic was still only a tool. Or at least that was as far as he cared to believe.

“Ladies. Ladies! I am betrothed already, and neither I nor my future brides are interested in adding to our herd at this time!” A somewhat whiny, yet familiar, voice said.

“Hey, I know that-”

Rushing out of the examination room, a white colt, his face flushed pink, golden blond wavy mane loosely flapping about, and with an unnatural gait, he tried to run with, was currently trying not to fall as he pulled up his pants. A cutie mark in the shape of a nautical star of gold and blue was slowly being covered up on his hip. He spun and scowled primly at the nurses' aids, who had stopped at the door, giving him pouting looks.

“I do appreciate the interest, yet that, as they say, is that.” His head tilted upward as he tucked in his school-issued shirt, but as he did so, his eyes swept over the remaining colts waiting their turn in what Orion was beginning to think was more than likely now a groping room.

They slammed to a halt when they landed on him. The white colt's eyes bulged alarmingly, and the head came down immediately.

“Or-or-or-”

“Hey, Golden.” The black colt interrupted with a smile, raising his hands slowly to try and show the panicked pony prince that he was not going to be a threat at that time. “Nice to see you back on your hooves. Been a while, huh?”

The reminder of their last encounter turned the pony's face from pink to crimson. The human-turned-pony wasn't sure if that was anger or just even more embarrassment. Either way, he didn't need another thing to deal with. He stepped forward quickly and lowered his voice.

“Relax, dude. I ain't interested in opening up that can of worms again. You stick to your lane, and I'll roughly stay in mine.”

“W-what?” Golden Trot said, flabbergasted. “Why?” He muttered out, then shook his head and glared at Orion. “And it's Prince-to-be, Blueblood the forty-eighth!”

“Oh, he grew a new pair of testicles in his time away! How fun.” His first instinct was to belittle the jumped-up white turd once more. An even deeper desire welled briefly in the form of wanting to snap his legs again.

Yet, Orion pushed that down.

“What is fairly simple. I don't want to deal with you. I am sure you don’t want to tangle with me again, either. And the reason I might drift into your proverbial lane is in case you start to act like an ass to the other students.” He gave him a nasty smile. “Your status does not give you leave to be a prick just because of who your daddy is.” He glared back at the new Blueblood in the making, causing the white colt to lose his anger and try to avoid his eyes. “If anything, you should be the better example. You are a Prince, “to-be” such as that is, and that means you have to be worthy of that title.” He shook his head, wondering where in the hell his mind was coming up with this crap.

“But, father says-”

“As far as I know, your pop ain't in the good graces of too many folk is he?” Rumors abound during his time when he was still allowed to wander the halls of the castle when visiting Twilight for a study session or two. Rumors that did not paint the forty-seventh Prince in too good a light, to say the least.

“Those are baseless slander!” Golden shot back.

“Really? Then how come he has to pay premiums on shipping whenever he orders something from one city or another?” He silently thanked the maids for being so loose of lips. “Or that many of the guards have to be paid extra just being assigned to watch over him?” Okay, perhaps he was not being as good as he should.

With a heavy sigh, he took another step toward the white colt, causing him to try and shrink back, only to discover he was now up against the wall.

“Listen, here is what I am asking of you.” He forced Golden to look at him. “Just be better than him. Really, that is all I ask.”

“B-be b-better?” The colt asked, uncertainty in his voice.

“Yep. Don't let your status or arrogance get in the way of being real with folks. If you don't like something, be tactful. If ya want something, ask with some humility or something.” With a snort, Orion realized he could take some of that advice. “Shit, I should be taking that to heart too.” He chuckled, taking a couple of short steps back.

His hand came up.

“Hi, Prince to-be Blueblood, my name is Orion. Orion Falls. Nice to meet you.”

A pin could be heard if one had dropped at that very moment.

Golden Trot stared at his hand and then his face in disbelief. His brain looked like it was about to explode.

“Listen, I'm trying to be good here,” Orion whispered, hissing past his teeth. “Really. All I ask is the same cordiality from you as I am willing to give. I ain't asking to be friends; just don't think our time should be spent getting back at one another.” He wiggled his hand in the air.

Slowly and with some trepidation, the white pony took his hand and shook it. His eyes still seemed bewildered.

“Congrats on the butt tattoo, by the way,” Orion smirked. “Care to tell me what it means?”

“Butt…tattoo?”

“Your mark, dude.”

“Oh. Oh!” Suddenly, his hand returned the shake in full force, excitement replacing his features.

“How easy it is to make a horse happy. He's like a puppy, heh.” Orion noted with dry amusement.

“It turns out I have a passion for sailing!” He sang, letting go only to clap happily in a very girly manner. “Not just any sailing! But sky sailing! I'm a superb navigator! And I seem to have a penchant for the stars as well, though we are not yet certain what that entails.”

“Huh, neat.” The black pony said thoughtfully, a grin forming. “Shit, you may end up flying one of my ships one day if things keep going the way they are now.”

“One of…yo-your…ships?”

“Oh, heh.” Orion wanted to smack himself. He was getting a bit too friendly with the overstuffed shithead, but at this point, he figured maybe giving him no reason to be scared or angry with him now was a better option. “Yeah, turns out I got adopted.” He turned and looked away briefly. “Much to my displeasure.”

“Oh, congratulations? I suppose?” Golden said, confused. “You were always…strange. Your tone says you didn't want this.” He cocked his head. “Why?”

“I'm…not gonna get into it. It's a whole thing.” The black pony waved his question away. “The important thing is my…guardians,” he stumbled over the word, “are out of Manehattan. They're shipbuilders by trade.”

“The Shipwrights.” Golden Trot nodded thoughtfully. “I see.” He paused, realization dawning on him. “I remember books about airships in your room!”

“Yeah, I've been…wait.” He fixed the white colt with a glare. “When the hell were you in my room? I never invited your ass in there.”

“I…uh.” The Prince to-be glanced around, and several colts who had been enthralled by their conversation turned quickly away, becoming very interested in the architectural structure of the hall.

He could put two and two together. That equalled pony snooping.

“Dude, not cool.” He groused, but after a moment, he let it go. It just didn't matter anymore. “Fuck, whatever.”

“I…apologize.” Orion had to do a double take. Not sure if he heard that right.

“What?”

Sheepish and with far more humility than he ever expected from the prim colt, Golden Trot gave a slight incline of his head and repeated his words.

“I apologize.” He shrugged. “I…was angry. Bitter about my situation in life. I was…going through-

“Hold up,” Orion interrupted, “what is with you, dude?” The black pony's mind reeled at the idea of this white and blond horse person being humble, let alone so nice, so fast after being informed Orion was willing to bury the hatchet. “It wasn't that long ago when we,” he coughed, “had our little spat. What in the hell happened to you?”

“Ah. Yes.” Golden nodded gravely. “I suppose your confusion is warranted.” He gave a half smile. “To be truthful, a lot of my mental clarity may have come from you, I would wager. Both the experience on the mezzanine and your…less-than-tactful riposte with the Princess. I-”

“Are you colts just going to stand around and gab all day?!” The shrill voice of Dense Foliage rang out behind the pair.

Closing his eyes, Orion tried to let go of the sudden rising anger brewing in his stomach.

“Apologies, Miss Foliage. Orion and I were simply catching up, and I fear we misplaced the time.” Golden said smoothly. “Orion, I believe we should finish this talk later.” He smiled kindly, nodded, and left without letting him get a word in edgewise.

“Okay…that's weird. I don't think I like it.” He had expected an altercation the moment he had been informed that the pony was back in town. Now, he was thoroughly confused and more than a bit suspicious. What had happened to him?

“Orion, are you just going to stand there, taking up space?” Dense said, glaring at him from the end of the line of colts.

Biting back a retort, he stood back in line, the others giving him plenty of space as he leaned against the wall and glowered at nothing.

“This fuckin' planet just gets weirder and weirder.”

“Alright, Mr. Falls!” Dr. Stethoscope said cheerily. “Everything appears normal. Now,” he gives a self-deprecating smile, “comes the unfortunate part. Would you please strip down for the physical inspection? I will make this as swift as possible.”

“Gonna have to turn my head and cough, Doc?” Orion chuckled as he removed his shirt, getting an odd look from the pony doctor.

“I am afraid you lost me there, Colt. What does that mean?”

“Nothing, forget I said anything.” The black pony chuckled to himself. His physician for the day was, of course, a unicorn, which meant the odds of him getting his balls cupped were very low. But not zero.

Placing his shirt on the bench, his vest had been shucked early. He bent toward the easy-to-remove iron shoes and noted with distaste that he already needed a trim as he placed them under the same bench.

Seeing as this was a full exam, Orion shed both pants and underwear in one swoop, unceremoniously dropping them with the rest of the discarded clothes.

Turning around, he noticed Dr. Stethoscope giving him an odd look. His first instinct was to cover up the rather visible scar across his sternum. That long, straight cut was quite noticeable, and any questions about it would only cause him problems. Then he realized his gaze was fixed below his waist.

“Um, Doc? Something wrong with my balls or something?” He inquired.

“Oh…uh no. Just…” He paused and shook his head. “Mr. Falls. Did you know you have yet to receive a cutiemark?”

Relief flooded through the black colt, and he almost sagged to the floor, the sudden adrenaline nearly making him shaky. He had legitimately thought there was something wrong with his bait and tackle for a moment there.

“Ah, yeah. No, I do not have one.” He shrugged. “Guess I'm not a favorite or whatever for fate or something.” He said good-naturedly.

With the confirmation that he was aware he didn't have one, the Doctor’s face changed into one of deep concern.

“Mr. Falls. I don't mean to alarm you, but a pony's life is closely tied to their Mark.” He began slowly. “It can, and often does, determine the course of one's path in society. You not having one by this time is very concerning. I have yet to meet a fifteen-year-old without their purpose personally.” He shook his head sorrowfully. “There are, of course, exceptions that I have heard of, but their lives…well, let us say they were not as fulfilling.”

“You mean they died.” Orion bluntly replied, getting a wince from the physician.

“Yes, not to be so direct about it. But yes, they passed on. They couldn't reconcile their lack of a Mark and eventually lost the will to live when they couldn't discover it after many years of trials and tribulations. Mr. Falls, you are in a very dangerous position for your health.”

He couldn't help but smirk at the saddened expression the doctor was sending his way. He almost laughed.

“Ah hah.” He stifled a chuckle. “Listen, Doc, I think you should know something. The difference between them and I is likely that I don't actually care about some silly Cutiemark.” He responded blithely. “If I get one, great. If I don't, also great cause I really don't care.” He waved the stallion's attempt to respond away. “And no, before you even say it. I'm not putting on a brave face. I really, truly, don't give a shit.” He gave him a thumbs up.

“I…I don't understand. Why does it not matter to you?”

He laughed, avoiding the cold bench and sitting on the faux leather of one of the doctor's chairs.

“Do griffons have one? Do dragons?” He ticked off each with a raised finger. “How about Diamond Dogs? Or the Hippogriffs! They pull direct descendency from us, after all. Yet their flanks, as far as I am aware, remain blank as the day they were born. Kinda strange how we are the only ones that get ‘em, right?”

Less worried and more confused, the doctor nodded along.

“This is true, and some of my more learned colleagues have wondered the reason for that. A great many research papers have gone into discovering the cause, but they have done little to advance their knowledge.” He sat down at the end of the bench, arms crossed.

“And, let's be honest, given my strange dietary needs and the mysterious nature of my birth, I'd say I'm likely not due one.” He shrugged. “Ever.”

“I did…read that in your file…” he mumbled, “Perhaps you are right.” Sucking in a breath and letting out a sigh, he stood. “In either case, I still will have to report this. You will likely receive a follow-up and an advisor to help you discover your place.”

“Aww, man! Seriously?!” Orion whined. Which Dr. Stethoscope just chuckled at.

“Yes, seriously. While you may actually be correct, what kind of Doctor would I be if I left it to chance on the word of a fifteen-year-old colt.” He clapped his hands together. “Enough of that. Let's get the rest of your exam finished.” He waved the black pony off the stool and kneeled down. “Now, turn your head and cough, if you would, Mr. Falls?”

“Oh, you're hilarious.” The colt's snarky reply came as he winced at the feel of another stallion's hands where they normally ought not to be. He was repeating that line.

It wasn't hard to spot the filly, as she was standing in the middle of his personal study, looming over his notes like a vulture.

Turquoise fur was matched with a sandy brown mane that practically screamed her name before one even took in her stature. Ocean Keel was what one might call a masculine filly. Everything about her said the pony was born for labor despite having a horn of her own, though said appendage might be considered small when anyone added her mass in.

She was somehow bigger than Applejack, but Orion suspected that the farm mare was still the stronger of the two, and it had nothing to do with their lineage. However, in terms of the type of labor each one partook in.

He often found his not-sister dressed in brown overalls and a blue button-up that seemed almost to choke her. That first day seeing her in a dress had left him with the impression she would rather be out of it, and he hadn’t been wrong.

“Any reason why you are in my study, going through my things like they belong to you?” He asked while simultaneously tossing his satchel on the hook by the door.

His study was part of a set of three chambers originally meant to be a long-term guest residence. It was simple and largely unremarkable. Dark wood paneling of some type of oak covered the walls, with pillars of green marble supporting the curved dome roof. Some bookcases that he had yet to fill stood to one side, while a workbench for his Crystalmancy had been set out to the other.

Plenty of room left for whatever decorations he may want to place, if ever.

At the very center, on the back wall, was a stained glass window facing the east, depicting a ship in turbulent waves. It was mesmerizing the first time he saw it. All greens, browns, and blues depicting a parade of colors that reflected onto his desk brilliantly.

However, the room they both stood in also acted as the entrance to the other two.

On the left from the entrance was the bathroom.

During the renovation after the Shipwrights purchase, the decision was made for a sea green tiling with wood accents to mark the corners and border that was waist level. The mirror was tall, oval, and gilded in silver rather than the traditional goldwork most might choose. Other than a tub with a shower head, a sink that stood under the previously mentioned mirror, and a toilet toward the rear of the washroom, it was rather sparsely furnished. Only a small wooden stool stood off to the side, of whose purpose Orion was still unsure of.

Of course, the room to the right of the entrance to his chambers was the bedroom, mirroring his office almost to a T. Yet it also served as his kitchen upon personal request. Due in large part to his diet, a stove with a brick fortification around it, a fridge, and a sink had been installed to accommodate his nature so he could eat meat without grossing the rest of the family out entirely.

A screen of wood and paper depicting, one would guess, a ship, this one a soaring vessel bursting through the clouds at what might have been the best speed imaginable for a lumbering aircraft.

On the other side were his bed, dresser, wardrobe, and a small wall shelf for personal reading. Instead of one large one, three regular arched windows faced east as well. However, they were often blocked by heavy curtains he had installed himself to keep the sunlight out.

“If we are playing that game, you can explain why you have been avoiding me and my sisters since you've arrived.” Pale green eyes met his angrily. “We hardly know you; our mothers and father will not explain to us why you avoid dinner or most social gatherings.”

Orion scoffed at her rebuttal and pushed her aside as he glanced over what she had looked into. With an inward sigh, he was relieved to see she had merely found his notes on airfoils. He had been trying to figure out how a plane might function and had so far produced a drawn image, a bastardized version of what he remembered as a Hellcat.

It was an ugly thing.

“How is this supposed to fly without an air bladder?” Unperturbed by his clear desire for her to leave, Ocean leaned over the table to jab at the design.

“Still working on it.” He growled.

His avoidance of the sisters was simple, if a bit hard to do in practice. The black pony didn't want to get caught up in their lives. Twilight's mentioning of Golden Trot’s engagement and subsequent name change had been all the warning he needed as far as he was concerned. He was not about to get hitched to the family in any shape or function. Nor be used as a tool to solidify ties.

“Fine. Research is important, but you better come with a full schematic if you plan to get Grandmother to agree to building it.” She snorted. “Again. Why are you avoiding us?”

“Christ, this girl isn't going to quit, is she?” He could ignore her. Hell, he could teleport the filly out of his room to a certain extent within his limited radius with no way for her to retaliate.

That was a funny thing to him. In a world of magic, most unicorns he had met barely had any training other than what was passed down by parents or school prep. This was actually also true for those in his own school. Sure, they knew more than the average horse about magic, but most lacked the strength and willpower needed to go as far as him and a few others.

Shaking his head, Orion pushed away from that tangent of thought and gave Ocean a baleful glare.

“I'm avoiding you because I don't want to actually be here.” He snorted at her surprised expression. “I figured your parents at least told you I strongly objected to this whole adoption nonsense, and the only reason I relented was that, unlike a certain fat-assed monarch, I don't have an eternity to sit there in a friggin' stalemate!” He snapped, turning away in frustration at losing his cool.

Silence descended over the pair as the black pony busied himself, putting his things away and straightening his desk. After a moment, he spoke again, though much calmer this time.

“I avoid you because I don't want you to get attached to me.” He watched her blink in surprise at him, “I don't want to be involved in your lives, as my time here is brief. I got three years, and while that's a long time to live through, it's a short time in hindsight.” Suddenly tired, he dropped into his seat and returned his eyes to a now very uncomfortable-looking Ocean Keel. “Not to sound like a cliché breakup line, but it's not you, it's me. I do not want to be here. I'd rather have stayed at the Orphanage if it had been possible.” He finished.

The filly, who merely stood two inches shorter than him, finally looked at him, a pained expression on her face.

“I…understand.” She shook her head. “Father said as much. That you felt your presence here was under duress rather than any desire to find a home. It is why you have been given such leeway to do as you please.” He snorted at that, and she gave a strained smile. “Perhaps marginally more than my sisters and I, at the very least.” She paused, chewing her lip. “But is it really so bad? To get to know us, I mean.”

“Honestly? No.” Orion gave his own pained smile. “What? It's the truth.” He shrugged at her stunned expression.

“Then why?”

“Because for as far as I can remember, all I ever wanted was to be able to be free.” He chuckled. “Being so… self-aware has allowed me to notice things at an early age. In particular, there is a disparaging gap in equality between stallions and mares. I'm talking about all of it, too. From societal to employment, all of it.” He coughed and went on. “Down in more rural areas, it's not quite so…blatant. Hell, most families seem to revolve around the stallion down there. Yet there are still things a stallion cannot be allowed to do, if nothing more than safety, as there is this weird ratio of male to female going on that no one can explain.”

“But father leads us!” Ocean interrupted when he took a breath.

“Yes, another anomaly. However,” he raised a finger, “the head of the Shipwrights is your Great Grandmother, Matron Solar Winds, right? And from what I have learned, your Aunt is next in line…what was her name?”

“Auntie Cloudy Venture.” She replied numbly.

“Ah, yeah, her. As far as I am aware, throughout the history of your family, never once has a stallion been considered for leadership outside familial duties like this branch into Canterlot. When the matron gives orders, everyone hops to do so without complaint. Not sure if that's due to superb leadership or, again, tradition making its demands.” He looked at the downcasted filly before him. “I am not for blindly following tradition.” Orion sighed heavily. “I'm sure your extensive family is great, but I am not someone that can be ordered around “Just cause I said so”.” He air quoted. “I want to make decisions for me, and not have them made for me.”

“I…” Ocean Keel tried to say something, her mouth opening and closing many times before a sigh of her own escaped her. “I understand.”

“Good.” He nodded, hoping to shoo her away now that they were done.

“But I don't agree with you.” She nodded, more towards herself than him. “I know what you really fear.”

“Oh, do tell?” He snarked at her. Now annoyed that she was digging in her hooves so suddenly.

“You are worried that Grandma Solar Winds will try to set you up with one of us. That it will be a demand.”

“That is a large component,” Orion admitted, surprised at her insight. He supposed she might not be as muscle-bound as she presented. “Of which I will refuse in the strongest manner possible.”

“And you are also worried that it will cause a riff in the family, knowing that father won't fight to make you, nor our mothers.”

“That is also true. Is that outside the norm for her to do?”

Her confidence in guesswork faltered, and her face reflected it.

“No. Its…it is common that the Matron uses family gatherings to…form bonds by way of marriage proposals.”

“If it takes the sting away from admitting that, your family is not the only one that does. Hell, even the Apples do it, though I hear the stallions get a bit more choice in who they get handed off to.”

Big illustrious families in Equestria tended to favor arranged marriages more often than not. Her admission that her own also participated in the practice was unsurprising.

This tradition harkened back to the turbulent years of pre-unification. Officially, it was to keep the family bonds strong without the risk of inbreeding. Unofficially, or at least it seemed to him, it was used to keep family lines from drifting away.

Competition could shatter success, and a number of families ripped themselves apart trying to dominate an industry. Having control of marriages and procreation prevented that to a large degree by creating a weird monopoly within the clan or tribe. No one competed with family, and selecting what role you and your kin would assume was under the purview of the Matron.

Orion was actually a prize in all of this. Having no family ties of blood to anyone within, he was essentially a one-time wildcard that could be employed by any branch that needed metaphorical shoring up without any risk. That is another reason why colts were often adopted so much quicker than fillies from the system.

“Wish I had known of this shit sooner.” He mentally lamented. Twilight had set him on the path of learning about all this when she informed him of what happened to Golden Trot. It hadn't been hard to uncover the truth after that.

He supposed that was what Clipper and his wives' real goal had been. Why need a tax break when you can bring in fresh blood for the next generation?

“She will not be happy with you,” Ocean spoke quietly. He snorted.

“I'd imagine not. When I found out about this little practice, I had pulled your dad aside and explained that it would just not be happening. Ever.” He waved a hand in the air, turning toward his desk. “But I think I've had enough of socializing today. Next time you visit, wait till I'm actually here. Otherwise, I'll toss you out on your ass.” He gave her a grin and a wink that made the filly flush with embarrassment.

Ocean Keel was not a bad person, all things considered. His main gripe with her is the bullheadedness she received from her mother, Free Beam. That mare could be very stubborn when she wanted to be. Because this wasn’t the first time he had a conversation like this, with either of them.

She turned and went. But Radar showed she had stopped at his door and turned back.

“My sisters are getting upset, though. Ember and Star are hounding their dam for a chance to speak to you.”

Orion suppressed a shudder. Compared to those two, Ocean was practically a saint. From what he could observe, neither pony would be ideal to have a conversation that did not end in: “go away”.

Ember Port was an apathetic filly who had chosen the role of a wallflower as far as he could tell. Never speaking much. Instead, she watched everything like a hawk, and her little ears would often twitch slightly when she was trying to listen in. That was a girl who liked to collect secrets.

The other, slightly younger by a mere two minutes, is Star Board. Where Ember is quiet, subdued, and ever watchful, Star is not. Brash to the point of irritable, the filly doesn't understand the word “no” with any particular reason. Her impulsivity and demands are, fortunately, largely ignored by her parents. Yet, from his vantage point of observing from the outside, both Ocean Keel and her older sister seem to go along with whatever inane whim she has.

Despite the usual hierarchy of a family, the youngest was in command of the adolescents here.

“Come to think of it, this would be exactly the kind of thing that little brat would do. Send the eldest out to test the waters, see how the new colt would respond to having his room trespassed into.”

“You mean Star is getting irritated.” He chuckled, watching the filly at his door jerk in surprise in his mind's eye. “I'm not blind, Ocean. Your youngest sister has you and Ember wrapped tightly around her finger. I'm beginning to think this little meeting wasn't your idea.” He turned in his chair and gave a flat stare. “Is it?”

Flushing, Ocean looked away.

“Tell her, the next time she wants to poke the bear, do it herself instead of being a wuss and sending you or another instead.” He went back to his desk and saw the mess that had been created. “I'll….try and swing by for dinner tonight. But for now, go on. Get out.” He said without heat, waving his hand dismissively.

Clipper did his best not to shift too much in the great white cushion he had been offered. His host had been curious, wanting to know how Orion had been settling in with his family.

The host in question sat before him on a larger and equally white sofa. Her magenta eyes drifted over the page before her with interest. What she was reading was no mystery, as he had written the letter himself. Hence, the reason she had called him in.

Smiling thoughtfully, she placed the missive down and turned those beautiful orbs onto him.

“I see Orion is settling in well.” Princess Celestia said, the thoughtful smile blossoming into a radiant beam.

Clipper Line couldn't help but flush. This mare who ruled the kingdom was beautiful. Beyond what he had imagined as a little colt when he had fantasized about one day being asked to marry her. An immortal beauty that would remain perfect throughout his life. A silly foalhood fantasy.

Having her attention on him directly, unlike his previous visits, had reawakened those fantasies that set his belly bubbling with butterflies.

“Y-yes! Though, there is the small issue of him still being absent from our dining room.” He chuckled ruefully. “Well, and his standoffish nature with our daughters. He hasn't been engaging them much, though Ocean did manage to speak to him one one-on-one a few days ago.” He shrugged his shoulders and looked away, unable to meet her eyes any longer. “So there is some progress there.”

“It may take a long time for him to open up more to you, Clipper.” Her voice sang in his ears at the utterance of his name. “He has been essentially on his own account for years now. Even Mrs. Evergarden hadn't bridged that gap by much before he came to you.”

“We know, your Highness.” He gave a short bow, and the Princess of the Sun waved it away.

“I'm much more interested in the fact that he has actually taken up a vocation!” She giggled excitedly. “And smithing of all things.”

He smiled at that.

“Yes, it has been a surprise for us too. We didn't even know he was interested in an apprenticeship until he brought Master Forager Broadhammer to our home.” Clipper shook his head. “I am uncertain as to why Orion chose a Minotaur to apprentice under. However, I believe they will work well together. Orion’s rather…rough expressions seem to wash off of the old Bull like water off a well-treated sail.”

“Indeed,” Celestia said with a gracious nod. Then she frowned. “However, I know that colt and odds are he may have kept something from you. Has my school informed you about his current status?”

“Not yet, your Highness.”Clipper Line shrugged. “As far as I am aware, he is healthy and engaged in his studies. Next week I am expecting a report from his physical exam. Why? Is there something wrong?”

“There is, yet he seems to not care about it at all.” Her horn glowed softly, and a small envelope appeared in her hand. “His case has come to my attention due in large part to the concern his examiner had, or has, I should say.” She slid the documents across to him and allowed him to pick it up.

Opening it, Clipper quickly glossed over the report and immediately noticed the issue. In his foals' documents, their Mark was always in the upper left-hand corner with a rough explanation of what their cutiemark meant. Orion's was completely blank.

“Did he not allow the examiner to look at him?” He asked.

“No. In fact, Orion cooperated fully with his examiner's instructions. When it came to the discovery of his Mark, or lack thereof, he simply waved it away as a non-issue.” Celestia shook her head in exasperation. “I am unsurprised that he has not mentioned it. Nor am I surprised that he is ignoring the possible ramifications of not having a mark can have on him socially.”

Clipper thought for a moment. Adopting Orion had been a calculated choice. Even with the colt knowing that one of the original plans was to marry him into the clan and refusing it outright, he was still extremely valuable for his insight and expansive knowledge of airships. In his mind, the rough blueprints of that strange little airship he was designing popped into his head.

“I…cannot say I'm surprised he would ignore the possible issues with not having a cutiemark. Knowing what little I do of him, his reaction is what I would expect.” He folded the envelope up, slid it back across, and asked something that had bothered him upon learning of his adopted foal’s predicament. “Why is it that a small portion of ponies are unable to obtain their Mark?”

“There are many speculations. And they are, unfortunately, just that. Currently, there is no known reason for ponies who are unable to receive their destinies, and it is extremely vexing.” She paused. “Honestly, I am not sure if this is going to be an issue for him. In terms of societal impact, he may be restricted in what career paths he may choose. Yet, as far as his quality of life…” she chuckled, “I am positive that it won't affect him in a largely negative fashion. That colt seems to thrive on adversity.”

Both monarch and subject shared a good laugh at that.

“Is there anything else, your Highness?” Clipper asked.

“Not at this time, Mr. Line. Keep me appraised of his life if you would.” Celestia frowned. “Since his altercation with Twilight, I do not get to see him roaming the castle as much as he once did.”

“I am sorry about that.” She waved it off.

“It is the earthquaking events of foalhood. The two will reconcile one day.” She smiled softly.

Once Clipper Line closed the door to the meeting room, Celestia's face lost its benevolent demeanor.

“If I am lucky, he will never darken my halls again.” She found herself muttering out loud.

She had cursed the fool foal's outburst the day Twilight returned in a dark mood. The filly refused to speak to her about it, too. It wasn't till days later, when she found her crying in her room, that she learned the truth.

“Fool. You did the exact opposite of what you claimed you planned.” It angered her greatly that Twilight's ego and heart had taken such a blow. The claim of letting her go gently had been merely a bluff. “Or he had gotten so irritated that he just blurted it all out.”

Either way, the result was the same.

Her gaze fell to the envelope of faux leather before her. Orion without a cutiemark was a sticking point, however. He was far too intelligent just to let go, but his lack of a mark meant it would be that much harder to place him.

She frowned. Rarely did an event come that she had to lie outright. It was so much better to lie by omission than to be so direct about it.

Yet, the simple fact was, she did have an idea why some ponies never got their cutiemarks.

“And to think, it has been going for so long…”

Orion Falls was a pony likely ahead of the career pool. His talent would likely have manifested in a more technologically advanced society. Instead, he had been born too early, and that led to him not having an outlet for abilities that currently lay dormant within him.

Celestia sighed and picked up her tea, frowning when she realized it had gone cold. She very nearly growled. Her mind wandered briefly. More meetings were scheduled for the day, and the tea had already gone cold.

Author's Note

I did it on purpose.

If ya know, ya know. Howdy boys and possibly grills. Hope you all have had a wonderful weekend. Time to get back into the grind! I'm sure your cheers are enthusiastic.

Now, a couple of things.

In the comment section last week. I noticed some thumbs down in some of the statements I and another have made to one another. Distinctly on the harem issue. Now, I have a question, and I'm not going to change my story as its pretty set in stone of what is going to happen, but unless I missed the reason behind those dislikes, why do you all like harem orientated stories so much?

The other question I have is: what's with the hate for andromorphic stories? I've seen a few say its a red flag. I'm at a loss for why.

So please, leave a comment down in the comment section below, if you would be so kind, as I kind of want to figure it out.

As always, thanks for reading.

PEACE.