"Anon, do you have everything you need for school?" Twilight asked, as we stood in the lobby. Smiling down at me—strained though that smile may be—she used her magic to smooth out a particularly unruly patch of my mane. She looked anxious, although whether that was on my behalf or due to the current Applejack Imprisonment story arc was yet to be seen. "We have to make sure you don't forget anything."

When she came back from her meeting with the others on Sunday, she seemed particularly tired. She didn't discuss anything about how things went with Starlight while I was in earshot, but she seemed to be in a slightly better mood. If I had to guess, their planning had gone well. At least as well as planning for an intervention can go well; I'd never been involved in one before, so I couldn't really draw on any expertise in judging.

Her mood had apparently improved enough that she was more than willing to take me shopping for school supplies yesterday. To start out, we went to Mr. Davenport's shop, Quills and Sofas—"The ultimate one stop shop for stationery and seats for the stationary!"—to stock up on pencils, a sharpener, and several notebooks. The friendly earth-pony shopkeeper seemed somewhat disappointed when I didn't show any interest in the more decorative pencils most foals, going instead for a number of standard #2s and the odd #3H for sketching, but I think he caught the way I was eyeing the futon couch he had. I think Twilight did too.

Barnyard Bargains had been our next stop. At first, the plan was to only get a lunchbox and a saddlebag—instead of backpacks and purses, most ponies relied on saddle-less saddlebags for some reason—but once I saw a thermos, I almost couldn't say no. I'd argued that getting a thermos and filling it with decaf, for I'd still not convinced Twilight to let me have regular coffee full-time, or green tea would provide a good opportunity to make sure I was getting enough sugar. A full-sized one would've been too large for a foal's saddlebags, but she agreed when we came across a lunchbox set that came with a thermos that could fit in it. For good measure, we even grabbed a pocket dictionary.

That said, Twilight wanted to take me to visit Rarity next. It was under the guise of getting some professional alterations done—replacing plastic buckles with metal ones more akin to what you'd find on a belt and having it sized to be more adjustable as I grew—getting them customised to be more easily identifiable, and have my name and return-to address embroidered on the inside. It was clear that she wanted something more to come from the interaction.

Rarity, as it turned out, had been quite upset by what had happened, and not just because her younger sister was best friends with AJ's. I got the distinct impression that Rarity may have been the Nightmare's yet-unnamed second host, if for no reason other than the way she mentioned that their friendship had been strained for a while, and that AJ was too proud or ashamed to seek help. It all but screamed that the pair might've been knocking boots until whatever had happened had come to pass.

That said, even as she did the alterations for my saddlebag, she seemed very keen on trying to have a dress made for me to 'make up for Applejack's brutality'. I was almost tempted to ask for pants or a skirt and a shirt, but I honestly wasn't all that sure how that would look on a pony without any form of reference. I didn't want to end up uncomfortable, or be reminded of things clients had asked me to wear on dates—I was past that stuff now.

Instead, I decided to ask for something practical; since it was getting close to winter and it was starting to get cooler out, it'd be nice to have something to throw on to keep warm—or dry on rainier days—like a hoodie or a cloak. The only caveat was that I wanted space for my ears but for them to receive the same protection. She sketched out some ideas while she worked and showed them to me, and although they both looked a bit... cat-eared, but they were also pretty cute. I settled on the cloak—since what mage doesn't have one of those?—but it'd probably take a few days since business was booming.

By the time we got back to the castle after meeting with Rarity, it'd been dinner time. Spike had made a nice vegetarian gumbo. It was almost too flavourful for me to handle, but somehow I'd managed to put away everything they put in my bowl. One study session and an early bedtime later, and that brought me to this morning on the cusp of my first day at horse school.

Smiling up at Twilight, I nodded. "Saddlebags, lunchbox, thermos of tea with sugar, school notebooks," I counted off, feeling a sense of mischief overtake me as I pretended to lift one olive-trimmed saddle-bag flap. "Pencils, the crown jewels, weapons of mass destruction, pocket dictionary, magic notebook." We hadn't actually gotten anything close to resembling a magic notebook, but I'd decided fairly quickly to keep one of the regular notebooks for my runic magic studies. "Mmm, yeah, I think I've got everything."

"Ha ha, Anon. Are you nervous?" she asked, shaking her head with a wry smile. There was this faraway look in her eyes as we exited the castle. "I remember my first day at Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns. I was so excited to be studying under the princess that I barely slept the night before, and ended up almost sleeping through my alarm."

"Anxious, maybe, just a bit," I admitted, following close behind her as she went. "It's going to be a new experience, that's for sure. Growing up, I lived in a backwoods former mining town, and there weren't all that many children in the area. There were my sisters, me, and then a few farm-kids way closer to the settlement proper. Not enough to justify having a formal school, so that left Mom to teach me and the girls."

Come to think of it, I didn't really have friends growing up. The only time I ever even saw those farm-kids was when father hauled us off to church. Up until I left, the only people I ever really interacted with were my folks, my sisters, Old Thom, his middle-aged daughter, and the farmhands. Then, when I was on the road, I never stuck around long enough to do more than make acquaintances. The closest thing I had to an actual friend was a possum who'd probably died a year or two ago by now. It's a wonder that I can even function as a person at all.

"I'm still not entirely sold on interacting with children 'my own age'," I admitted when we were half-way to the schoolhouse. She gave me a nervous look over her shoulder, but didn't say anything. "That said, I know how important friendship is—especially to you and your friends—so with that in mind, I'll try to make some friends." What I didn't say aloud was that barring that, I'd try not to start any fights. I can't say the same about finishing them, though.

The rest of the trip I spent watching pegasi pushing dark clouds into position over the town. It was still wild to think that the natural order in this world was so utterly fucked that the only places what I recognized as nature occurred was in places ponies considered to be cursed or beyond comprehension. That ponies themselves had to create weather phenomena through use of strange arcano-tech controlled by the pegasi, or through spells performed by teams of mages, said a lot about the state of the world's natural order.

Things must have been an utter shit-show before the unification of the three tribes.

When we got there, I still had fifteen minutes before the start of class... So quarter to eight in the morning. Cheerilee was there to greet us, and explained that although class would be starting on the hour, she wanted me to wait in the hallway until she called upon me. The idea of it struck my as sort of odd, but I guessed that her plan was to have me introduce myself after everyone else was settled.

It wasn't exactly a bad idea, I decided as Twilight departed—not without a wry warning to be on my best behaviour, mind you. Any who had yet to arrive would see me waiting in the hall, and then excitement and curiosity about there being a new student would be abound. At least, that was how the trope seemed to go in books.

In reality, I just ended up waiting in the hallway for the remaining fifteen minutes, seeing absolutely nobody coming or going. At least the time I spent waiting didn't go to waste. Though I was technically forbidden from studying, practicing, or using magic without the supervision of a unicorn—a rule I've already noticed a loophole in—there was technically no rule about theory-crafting.

At the top of the page, in #3H, I wrote out Water Bolt. Rather than writing any actual runes or moon-glyphs, I wrote out words only in plain Equestrian sun-glyphs. For one, I didn't want to be accused of actually violating the spirit of the rule. I also didn't want some foal to try and do the spell itself and hurting themselves. I was strictly writing ideas in a general layout of how I thought it should appear and then adding in notes/comments.

For the Water Bolt, I decided instead of a direct rune like ignition—the closest for water would be condense/condensation, by my guessing—I'd want a creation/conjuration primary operator. In addition to adding for a degree of modification down the line, such as changing the element, it would likely be more efficient in getting the desired effect, as well as energy-efficient. Yeah, I didn't really get how the complexity of a spell had an inverse effect on the amount of mana used, but it had been explained to me as having to do with using environmental energy to refine effects rather than brute-forcing by using as little runes as possible. If I had to guess, a well-inscribed runic spell might be acting as a sort of net for energy.

The first instruction off the main rune was the target for creation. In the case of the spell I had in mind, the next rune involved would be water. Rather than add instructions or modifiers directly around it, I instead made a notation schema and placed the points I thought would be necessary around it before adding the key off to the side. I was indecisive whether I wanted the term bolt, ball, projectile, or orb for it—although stream could probably be used to create a water-gun type spell. There was also the matter of volume, which in turn would need a numerical value and unit. Too little, and it'd just be a raindrop, too much and it'd be a torrent.

Before I could begin writing my thoughts on the firing mechanism, I heard Cheerilee's voice. "This morning, fillies and colts, we have a new student joining us," she announced in a voice meant to carry out into the hall. Immediately, I shut the notebook and tucked it into my bag before standing by the door. "You can come in now, Anonymous."

My ear twitched involuntarily at the mention of the name. Although Anon had quickly become a name I could answer to without pause, the 'full' name for my official record still didn't sit well with me. It elicited the image of faceless forum trolls or hacktivists wearing Guy Fawkes masks, rather than that of my own face. It'd definitely take a lot more time before I'd be comfortable with it.

Pushing through the not-quite-shut door, I entered the room full of the foals that would be my peers. Although I tried my hardest, I couldn't exactly force a genuine smile. Fifteen children was a lot more than I was used to being around at one time. Not only that, but all of their eyes were on me, and there were definitely a few stares that were decidedly not friendly ones.

Joining Ms. Cheerilee at the front of the room, I looked out at the class feeling suddenly anxious. In addition to a trio of fillies—a red-headed earth pony, a white filly who looked like a smaller Rarity, and a vibrant orange pegasus—glaring at me, there was a pair of familiar looking black-and-white colts giving me the stink-eye. Another pair of earth ponies behind an empty desk at the front of the row, kept glancing from me to the ginger. Given that the empty desk that must have been brought out of storage for me was near the trio, I hoped that things wouldn't escalate.

"Everyone, this is Anonymous," the cerise mare explained, gesturing at me. "Do you have anything you'd like to say to the class?"

Not really, but that was never an option, was it? The hell am I even supposed to say? 'Greetings, fellow children?' "Hi, I'm Anon," I said in as friendly a tone as I could, giving a slight wave. "I grew up away from ponies, so please be patient if I make a social faux-pas." Rubbing my chin with my hoof, I decided to share a few of my interests. Gambling and hunting are right out, as is coffee—most of them seem too young to have a taste for it yet."Other than that, I enjoy reading, fishing, camping, and my guardians are going to be teaching me about certain kinds of magic, and I'm quite excited about that."

That last bit earned a pair of derisive snorts from the yin-yang twins, but most of the class looked more interested than dismissive. I was about to take a seat when one of the fillies in class spoke up. "What's your cutie mark mean?" A colt quickly followed up by asking, "Yah, why's it a question mark with a line through it?" Despite the sour looks on the faces of the fillies in that trio—I now was almost certain that they were AJ and Rarity's sisters—even they couldn't hide their curiosity. "Look! The dot is a star!"

Everyone but the con-artists had begun chatting. Was this normal behaviour, or is it because my mark is weird? I couldn't help but wonder self-consciously. With a questioning glance at Cheerilee, who nodded permission, I took a deep breath. "Actually, it's not a question mark at all," I explained, turning to provide the horizontal profile that allowed the children to see my mark more clearly. "Although the arrangement does look like a question mark, it's actually the moon-glyph for the word 'child', seated atop—as one of you pointed out—a small six-pointed star. My talent ties into the research and exploration of a seldom-used field of magic: runic magic. So remember, when someone tells you that words have power, they're telling the truth."

Although Cheerilee quickly shut down any further explanation—despite a few asking for my cutie-mark story—I still managed to catch the unicorn brother muttering something rather unkind. Specifically, he was inferring that it was absolutely pointless for an earth pony to study magic if they were never going to be able to use it. I could tell that Cheerilee heard it as well, judging by the warning look she gave him. That said, he'd have to do a lot more to get under my skin than infer the futility of my talent. He had nothing on the shit my father would say if I got too full of myself.

~ 09 ~

The first few classes went by way too quickly for my liking. History was... interesting, although I silently wondered how much of what Cheerilee was teaching was sanitised. Take the last border conflict, some two hundred seventy-five years ago, between Equestria and the Griffon kingdom of Griffinstone that was covered in today's class. Nothing was mentioned regarding losses on either side, the length of the conflict, or even notable battles. The only real things of note expressed in the lesson itself were that a member of the royal family—an ancestor of Prince Blueblood, by the sound of it—had been taken hostage during the crisis, and that Celestia herself led a strike team into the griffon capital to retrieve the aforementioned royal and 'negotiate' a surrender.

Looking at the world map that she'd brought out for the lesson, I saw that the borderlands subject to the conflict were lush, largely untouched woodland and what seemed to be prime agriculture spots. The lands of Griffonstone, meanwhile were largely rocky and mountainous. That said, when I asked what the motivations for the conflict were, Cheerilee didn't seem to have an answer. She was actually surprised when I suggested that the initial encroachment might've been in response to some sort of famine situation and asked if there had been a breakdown in diplomatic relationships or a rejected request for foreign aid.

The pegasus brother—Ebony Crescent—of the twins scoffed at that, suggesting that because Equestria and Griffonstone were at war at the time, Equestria wouldn't have been obligated to help them. That was quickly quashed by Cheerilee, who noted that though there was indeed conflict and an escalation of retaliatory events, no official declaration of war was ever made, and they were even in a defence pact for a time. Ivory Crescent, Ebony's unicorn sibling, then made the accusation that the griffons were too proud and barbaric to ask for help, which is why they tried to take the land in the first place.

That didn't sit right with me, for a few reasons. Besides the fact that the boys both sounded like some of the snobs I'd heard toadying up to the flammable prince, complete with the Canterlot accent, it struck me as odd. Could they really have been too proud to ask for help despite being on decent enough relations to have had a defence pact for a time? Or was there something more buried in the annals of time? That was completely disregarding the barbarism comment, which I imagined was a pointed jab at a predator-descended omnivorous species.

I'd probably have to dig out a history book at Twilight's library to get a better picture of the conflict, but I hoped that I wasn't right. Admittedly, political theater and wartime theory had no real place at the level we were being taught, but all the same, the idea that history was sanitised for children who might only get the one education gave me a bad feeling. If history was written by the victors, then was this land of sunshine and rainbows built on the graves of the untold vanquished? Or was I biased by my old world?

After that discussion and a quick quiz pertaining to the lesson, the class moved on to mathematics. The class as a whole was in the middle of a unit on multiplication and division. It wasn't even long multiplication or long division—just low-end stuff with single digit multipliers with two-to-three digit multiplicands, or multi-digit dividends and single-digit divisors. Strictly speaking, they weren't even really into 'show your work' territory all that much. The work-sheet that was supposed to last an hour took me all of maybe ten minutes, and even then that was because I was pacing myself. There was an additional sheet that was supposed to be for homework that I also finished, but I just tucked that away into my math notebook. I could hand that in to Ms. Cheerilee before I left for the day.

I was a bit surprised when, come ten o'clock, all of the other children were getting up out of their seats to go out into the schoolyard to play. Recess was what Cheerilee called it, but given that it was an entire half-hour, and I didn't feel like going outside when it looked like it could start pouring buckets at any moment, I ended up staying inside; I could take the time to have a cup of tea and perk up, instead. Hopefully we'll be back to math afterward.

Much to my surprise, I wasn't the only one staying in. While I was pouring some tea from my thermos into the lid-cup that came with it, the orange pegasus from that group of fillies approached Cheerilee as the mare looked to be getting ready to go out and monitor the other foals. "Ms. Cheerilee, can you stay and help me with my math?" she asked, her wings buzzing gently at her sides in either agitation or anxiety. "Aunt Holiday and Auntie Lofty said that if I fail another homework sheet, I'm gonna be grounded, but I just don't get it."

Smaller than average; genetic deformity, or stunted growth perhaps? Probably better not to ask.

"Scootaloo, I can always take some time to help you after school," Cheerilee answered in a soft voice. "Why don't you go out and play with the other Crusaders while the weather's still clear?"

Although part of me suggested that it was none of my business, another part noted that if I helped out their friend, the other two might be easier to win over. It wasn't until the filly's ears drooped and her mane seemed to look a bit less vibrant and fluffy that I decided to step in. "If you'd like, Ms. Cheerilee, I could give her a hand," I offered, taking a sip of my sweetened green tea. "I was just gonna sit here and f—futz around with a personal project while I caffeinate, but if she needs help and you need to watch after the others... I don't mind."

That seemed to please the teacher, while it shocked the filly. "That's an excellent idea, Anon," Cheerilee exclaimed, looking from me to Scootaloo. "That's the sort of attitude I hoped you'd have. At this rate, you'll have plenty of new friends."

Before Scootaloo could protest any, the mare was out the door. With that in mind, I tucked a pencil between my ear and my mane and made my way over to the filly's desk. "So, what seems to be the trouble," I asked, pushing one of the nearby chairs up to her desk. Careful not to spill my tea, I climbed into the seat and waited for her to join me.

As she joined me, she pulled out the worksheet. She was giving me this weird look, but I ignored it in favour of helping her out. "I do alright with single numbers and the tens place, but it's kinda overwhelming after a point," she said with a sigh. "I'm not good at any of this egghead stuff. I'm like Rainbow Dash; I'm an athlete."

I hummed slightly as I looked over her work. Sure enough, she had the basics down, but she started to get overwhelmed the larger the numbers got. Sara used to get the same way. "You know, you say that, but I think you'd be surprised just how important math is in Ms. Dash's day job," I said, remembering the chit-chat from that first night around the poker table. "As a flyer, she probably has to do plenty of on-the-fly calculations, even if it's on an instinctual level, to say nothing of what must be necessary as captain of the weather team. There's probably a lot of budgeting, estimates, and figuring out just how much rain is needed when and where, and how long it should fall. Might not seem like a lot of math until you dig into the thick of it."

Scootaloo looked surprised that I was trying to frame math in a way that related to her idol, but she didn't really say anything. I took that as an opportunity to continue. "When my Mom taught me math ages ago, she made an effort to frame it in ways that kept my interest," I explained. I saw that she kept a pad of scratch paper at her desk, so with her permission, I pulled it over. "For me, she'd tie in the battles in a high-fantasy series I enjoyed reading. For you, I reckon your idol might be a good basis."

From there, I made up a few word problems on the fly for her, centered around Rainbow Dash. Simple stuff by my reckoning, but actual brain ticklers for her. If Rainbow Dash were to fly thirty kilometers each day, how many days would it take her to to fly three-hundred sixty? First I guided her into breaking down the question into what it wanted; she quickly realised that it was a division with a complex number. At first she got nervous, until I pointed out something that Cheerilee might not have taught them yet: simplification and pattern recognition. Once she realised that the ones digit was zero in both cases, she was able to pick out the answer almost immediately.

"She'd have to fly twelve days to go three hundred sixty kilometers!" Scootaloo exclaimed, although she quickly sagged when she realised that not all equations would be that simple. "That was easier that it looked, but what do I do when I can't break it down like that?" I didn't really have a great answer to that, but I demonstrated long division and surprisingly she caught on quickly once I explained chunking.

From there, I introduced her to a little visualisation tool for multiplication: the lattice method. Although I'd had no problems learning standard long multiplication, there were times where I would have problems keeping it all aligned. Rainbow dash busts seventy-three clouds each day. How many clouds has she busted on day twelve? When she was sure of what I was asking, I had her draw a box, break it into four, and then put a top-right to bottom-left diagonal dash in each quarter. I had her write seven and three over the two vertical columns, while writing one and two alongside the two rows.

"Now, instead of focusing on the big numbers, let's work on each individual pair," I instructed. "The first row is simple, as it's just demonstrating one times seven, and one times three. Write those answers in the bottom half of the respective block."

"What about the top half?" she asked as she wrote out seven and three again.

"Since we haven't crossed the two-digit barrier, we treat those cells as zero," I explained, gesturing with my #3 pencil. "You don't have to mark it as such, and in some cases, it might even end up being used in a later step. That being said, what do you notice about row two?"

She looked at the numbers for a moment before moving on without even a word. She wrote the one from fourteen in the top half of the box, while the four was in the bottom. "Now what?" she asked, her face scrunched up. "All I got now is a numbered square."

With the light tip of my pencil, I made little arrows pointing down the diagonals. "Now, follow the diagonals and add," I explained. "The sum of each diagonal is written outside the box where it ends, and once you've done all the addition, you have your answer. "So what do you have?" I watched her tally up the lines and mark down her answer of eight hundred seventy-six. "Excellent. Now in the cases where the addition crosses into the tens digits, that's where the blank column can come in handy; place the carryover in the next diagonal to the left. Give it a try with, hmm, seventy-four and fourteen. You should see an instant where that'll happen."

Before we could do any more, I noticed students starting to file back in. In particular, a certain yellow earth pony and her friend were entering. "Thanks, Anon, I think I might actually be able to do my homework this time," she exclaimed as I hopped down from my borrowed chair, returning it to its desk. Giving her friends a glance, she sighed. "When I heard AJ got locked up, I expected you to be some a stuck-up brat. It didn't make sense... It makes even less now."

Looking from Scootaloo to Sweetie Belle to Apple Bloom, I grunted and drained the rest of my tea. "Look, for what it's worth, I never wanted that either; I'm no stranger to getting hit for saying stupid s—stuff," I said, my ears folding back. "I wouldn't have even said anything about it, but there was this whole other thing with Princess Luna that day, and I guess she was watching from afar with a scrying spell... and law is as law does..."

"So yah didn't mean for mah Sis to get put in the slammer?" Apple Bloom asked, getting a bit too close for comfort—not enough to trigger my fight-or-flight reflexes, thankfully, but enough that I could see that she was definitely a bit taller than me, and more than enough that Cheerilee looked alarmed when she entered. After all, Apple Bloom looked simultaneously like she wanted to cry or wreck my shit, and given that she probably blamed me for her sister's arrest, that was to be expected. "Ya ain't some home-wreckin' monster lookin' to ruin everypony ya come across?"

I shook my head. "Absolutely not," I muttered, placing my empty lid-mug onto my own desk. "I had one of my best games of cards with her just last week." My eyes drifted up to the ceiling as I thought. "Did you know you can learn a lot about someone by playing cards with them? Well, I learned pretty quick that she's good people. You don't intentionally f—frick over good people like that."

With a gentle smile, I put my hoof on her shoulder. "Look, I'm not exactly happy with what happened either, but it is what it is," I said, giving a slight nod to Cheerilee as I turned to return to my own seat. The teacher looked much less anxious now that she didn't think she'd have to stop a murder. "That said, I don't think she'd want us fighting one another. We can talk at lunch if you'd like, but class is gonna start soon."

Author's Note

1. Imagine Emilia's hooded cloak from the anime Re:Zero, but fitted for a pony, and you have the cloak that Rarity will have made for Anon.
   

2. I don't buy the idea that Equestria is just wholly pure without any sort of political intrigue/conflict. Even if there was, there was no way a country as large as Equestria would not have been the aggressor at some point. After all, there's no harm in a slightly grittier Equestria that's not just all sunshine and rainbows. In a future chapter, we will actually be getting more insight into the conflict in question when Anon chooses to do a report on it.

3. Originally, I wasn't going to go into any major events during her first day at school other than maybe an interaction with the twins, but it occurred to me that there was no real putting off her coming face to face with Apple Bloom. That said, I accidentally got REALLY into Anon teaching Scootaloo during recess.

Funny enough, I didn't I realise I had seen a similar scene of someone teaching Scootaloo lattice multiplication until AFTER I'd finished writing the scene. I still don't remember which story I read that had her being taught it, but I vaguely remembered it after the fact.