My Next Life as a Pony

Chapters

Prologue: The Realm of Potential
Chapter 1: Speak like a Child
Chapter 2: A Loving Family
Chapter 3: A Magic Block
Chapter 4: New Lessons, New Friends

Prologue: The Realm of Potential

Death seems like a far off event when you’re living life to the fullest. It’s been on my mind a lot recently. I’m not young, not anymore. My twenties came and went years ago and my thirties are fading fast.

Some nights I lay back in bed, staring at the ceiling wondering what the hell it is I’m doing; no wife, no children and nothing to leave behind when I die. My job doesn’t need me. My parents are off living out their retirement in some picturesque beach house. Sometimes they’ll even send me a text when they remember my birthday is coming up.

I wake up, go to work, face the scrutiny and criticisms of mid-level managers of mediocrity for eight endless hours, leave work, get home, eat dinner and stare at porn until I fall asleep to do it all over again. Am I even allowed to call this existence a life?

There’s this old memory I have. I’m walking down a forest trail by the house where I grew up. Next to the trail is a small stream and I hike along its bank, jumping back and forth over the running water. At some point I start piling up rocks in the stream to make a dam. The water stops flowing and pools up behind the little rock wall making a small pond. I sit there awhile and watch the water level inch higher and higher when finally, I kick out the dam and race the tiny flood downstream back to my house.

For some reason, I start crying when I remember that. I feel ashamed, like I’ve let that little boy down. When did I stop doing things just for the hell of it? Where has my creativity gone?

“Hey Anthony, make sure you get that invoice to me before you leave today, please.”

I look up from my computer screen. Ralph, my department manager, is leaning up against my cubicle, sipping what looks like iced coffee.

“I will. Thanks for the reminder, Ralph. Going anywhere special tonight? We only get one Friday a week.”

My mouth works itself into some semblance of a smile, trying to sell my absent enthusiasm. I wonder how many times I’ve said that line? The invoice Ralph requested is already queued up as an attachment on my email. I didn’t need the reminder and I’m pretty sure he knew I didn’t need the reminder, but for some reason we do this little song and dance at the end of each week to make it look like we give a damn. I don’t know about Ralph, but I definitely don’t give a damn.

He gives some vague, impersonal answer about his plans for tonight and the rest of the weekend. I catch the words “wife” and “kids” and “baseball practice” but not much else seems notable.

“Sounds like fun. Well, don’t let me keep you. I’ll send the invoice before I leave, don’t worry.”

Ralph gives a small nod and takes another sip of his drink before turning to leave.

“Thanks, have a good weekend. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“See you.”

I wait a minute after he leaves before sending the email. Looking up from the computer, I see that everyone else on the floor is switching off their monitors and heading out as well. Snippets of conversation reach my ears as I start shutting off my PC and gathering my things.

Paul of Cubicle 4 and Rick of Cubicle 5 are heading to the bar down the street. Sounds like there is some sports game tonight. Maureen of Cubicle 6 needs to pick up her prescription before she heads to her sister’s later and Rosa from Cubicle 8 hopes her husband remembers their anniversary tomorrow.

All of their desk lamps flicker off as they leave and I’m left alone in the dim ambient lighting of the office. I grab my keys from my bag.

“Guess I'll lock up then…”

It’s a five floor ride down the elevator to the parking garage and I take it in silence. On Fridays I usually head to Carmine’s to get my regular two slices of meat lovers pizza and a coke to go. Looking down, I notice how tight my shirt has gotten around my stomach lately. Maybe I’ll try a salad tonight.

The garage is pretty sparse. Most everyone in the building has already left for the week. It doesn’t take me long to find my little Kia parked in the corner. I’m walking over, already reaching for my car keys, when I pause.

There’s someone standing by my car. They’re dressed in dark clothes and in the dim corner of the garage I can’t see them clearly, but they’re definitely standing by my driver door. Actually, they’re crouching. They’re crouching by my car door and they’re picking at the lock and…

“H-hey!”

As soon as I call out, I regret it. My voice echoes around the garage reminding me how alone I am. The figure jolts up, head spinning to face me. They’re wearing a dark ski mask and in their hand is some small metallic tool.

In the back of my mind, a news report on recent car thefts in the area surfaces. The details are murky, but there was definitely something about gang affiliation and armed suspects.

The thief looks me over, sizing me up. I’m wearing one of my silly Marvel comic themed ties. Fucking casual Fridays!

“Da fuck you want, punk?”

My mouth is dry. Sticking out of the waistband of his pants is unmistakably the black handle of a pistol. I try hard to swallow the lump forming in my throat.

“That’s my car. I- you can’t…”

I trail off. His hand reaches down and pulls the pistol free, aiming it at my chest.

“I can’t? Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do, bitch. Whatchu got on you, huh? Let me see!”

By instinct, I hold my bag closer to my side.

“I don’t have anything. I don’t have money on me. No cash. Just my credit card.”

“Bullshit. Gimme the bag.”

A siren sounds from outside the garage. It’s probably just a fire truck heading to some accident, but the noise spooks the thief. He shifts his weight back and forth and glances around the garage. His thumb tightens up and cocks the hammer on the pistol.

“You hear me?! Gimme the fucking bag!”

“Please! Please, it's just papers. I work in accounting, see?”

What the hell am I doing? Papers scatter across the concrete floor as I shake them free of my bag. I grab my wallet out of my pocket and toss it over to his feet.

“Look, you can have it all.”

“Motherfucker, gimme your keys. You dumb fuck! Whatchu doing? Bugging out and shit!”

My keys? Of course, he wants my car! He’s a car thief. Get it together, Anthony. Now’s not the time to freak out. Just give him what he wants and you’ll be okay. Dammit, I still have payments to make on it…

“Here! You can have them. Take the car-“

“Hey!”

Both the thief and I turn to see a security guard running over from the elevator door. He reaches for his belt holster and pulls out a taser. The split second of relief I felt vanishes as a simple truth reaches my brain; gun beats taser.

“Hey, what are you doing? Drop that right now! And get on the ground!”

The security guard, Phil, if I remember right, is a twenty-year-retired police officer. Balding and with a gut the size of a beach ball, Phil doesn’t strike an intimidating figure and clearly the thief agrees with me because instead of dropping his gun and submitting to Phil’s order, he trains his pistol on the poor security guard, an air of contempt exuding from him.

“Sit yo fat ass down! You finna get capped, pig!”

Phil, for his part, whether out of bravery, stupidity, or some foolish sense of justice not yet beaten out of him by his retirement, does not heed the thief’s warning and keeps plodding across the garage towards us. The thief is not impressed.

“Heh, I wonder how you’ll squeal!”

The pistol’s trigger pulls back as the thief squeezes his finger.

“No!”

I don’t remember moving, but the next thing I know I’m diving into the path of the bullet. No, the bullet already hit me. It’s digging through my chest, passing my ribs and drilling through my heart. The pain hasn’t reached my brain yet, but I know I’ve been shot.

Concrete rushes up to meet me and I splay out on the floor. Blood starts pooling up around my chest. I can feel it seep out of the bullet hole with every beat of my heart. Wait, is my heart still beating? No, it’s fading. The bullet did too much damage.

The thief is already running to the exit. Phil is chasing after him the best he’s able. He fires his taser and misses, I think. I don’t know. The pain starts spreading from my wound now. The tips of my fingers and toes feel cold; they’re losing blood. Above me, the pale yellow lights of the garage buzz incessantly, drowning out my thoughts.

My vision is getting hazy. This is too fast, right? I was only shot a second ago. I shouldn’t have lost that much blood yet. It was only a second ago, a minute ago… How long has it been?

Phil’s back now wheezing over top of me. His face is a red sweaty mess. He’s shouting into his little walkie-talkie. Distress colors all of his features.

“You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be fine. Ambulance is on its way. Hang on, buddy!”

I try answering him, but the words won’t come. Poor guy sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than me.

“You’re gonna be fine. I called an ambulance. It’s comin’. Hang on.”

Phil keeps repeating similar phrases like a mantra. His breath comes quick and sharp much like my own.

Minutes pass—I can’t tell how many—before a paramedic arrives and pushes Phil away. I look down and see the papers I dropped earlier are all stained red with blood. How am I going to explain that to Ralph? They are the minutes from our last meeting.

Another paramedic is helping to lift me onto a stretcher. Someone is holding a rag to my chest trying to staunch the blood. I didn’t know it was possible to bleed this much— at least, to bleed this much and still be alive. Am I still alive?

Have I ever really been alive? I died, didn’t I? Not in that garage. I died when I joined this company. I died when I gave up on my art major. I died when I told Miranda Gorley we should just stay friends. I’m dying and I’ve always been dying, day by day, bit by bit.

My vision is flooded with the bright lights of the ER as the doctors wheel me in. They’re talking too fast. With their masks on, I can’t hear very well. I think they’re asking if I’m awake, if I’m still with them.

But they are fading. Everything is fading. I can hear the stream. I can hear the rocks splashing into the water. I’m kicking the dam open. I’m racing the water back home. I’m alive!

And then it’s black. Everything, everywhere. Totally black. I must be floating in the blackness, or maybe I’m falling? It’s impossible to tell. There’s nothing. All around is nothing against nothingness.

Time passes. Or perhaps time stops. The nothingness is so complete that any change, any movement, any increase of entropy is imperceptible. I think back to my high school physics class. This must be some place beyond space and time. I’ve traveled to some point unaffected by the Big Bang. That’s the only explanation my fragile psyche can come up with to cope with this darkness.

Maybe I’ve come to the end of the universe? Or the beginning? Will I just remain here, a single speck of consciousness suspended in everlasting darkness, until I too become part of the void? I try to speak. I want to scream. Not because I’m in pain, I don’t really feel at all, but I just want to hear something—anything. But no noise can be heard. Is this really death?

“You are not dead yet, Anthony Grimm.”

The voice catches me by surprise. It surrounds me, wrapping me in warmth. The tone is gentle and feminine.

“Who are you? Where am I?”

“I suppose you could call me God. But I prefer Faust if you don’t mind. Less formal, I think.”

I turn, or at least I try to. The concept of turning, of rotation itself, doesn’t exist in the void. Still, I vainly search for the owner of the voice.

“God? Where are you?”

“I am here with you. Please, it’s just Faust.”

“Faust, then. Where are you? I can’t see you. I can’t see anything.”

“Of course you can’t. You are simply a consciousness now. Your body is back on Earth in Wilken’s General Hospital. The doctors there are still trying to revive you. Their efforts, though valiant, are in vain.”

Her words take a moment to sink in.

“So I’m dead? That’s it?”

“You are not dead. Not yet.”

“But you said my body is gone. That the doctors can’t revive me.”

“I did say that. But that is your body. Bodies are temporary things, they come and go. Your soul however, is still whole and healthy. A bit undernourished for my liking, but I hope to help with that.”

“My soul… I don’t get it. Isn’t this just death then? Your body dies and your soul continues on to the afterlife. I go to heaven or hell, right?”

For a moment, I try to take stock of all the actions of my life—all the good deeds and bad deeds—trying to weigh them against each other. I was a good person, wasn’t I? Boring and inoffensive, but more or less good, right? I hope I go to heaven or just remain here. Burning for eternity does not sound like a better option.

“You will go to neither. It’s true that something like the afterlife you describe is real, but only for fully mature souls. Yours is still underdeveloped.”

Underdeveloped? Guess I can’t argue with that. I can’t say I really lived life to its fullest. On a scale of experience and activity, I’m probably only a little past a sloth.

“So where do I go? Do I just stay here? Where even is here?”

“Right now, you are in a space between universes. Others of my kind sometimes refer to it as the Realm of Potential. In this space anything is possible. A new soul may come into existence or even a new universe. But those events happen very seldom. Mostly, this space is filled with passing souls such as yourself.”

“I don’t see anything here.”

“As I said, you have no body, no eyes, to see with.”

“But I don’t have any ears either, so how come I can hear you?”

“You are not hearing my voice, but rather my thoughts.”

“I’m reading your mind?”

Faust giggled. I felt it in some way, but it was definitely a laugh.

“In a manner of speaking, yes. At least, you’re reading the thoughts I send to you. If you stay here long enough you too may learn to project your thoughts. You’d then be able to see all of the potentiality around us.”

“I see…”

I really don’t get it at all, but who am I to argue with God?

“But you said if I stay here. So if I’m not staying, where am I going?”

“Well, that is up to you. I am here to give you a choice and you are here to choose. But first, let me do this so you’re not left in total darkness. I know how uncomfortable that can be.”

“Do what?”

Before me a light appears. It is distant like a star, but any light in the void feels like the Sun. From out of the light, walks a figure. At first, it looks like two people, but as it approaches I realize it’s one figure with four legs.

The person is not a person at all. If I had to pick a creature to compare them to, the closest I can picture is a horse. Their body is covered in white fur. On their head is a mane of dark red hair matching their tail and their eyes are a deep emerald green.

But this horse is definitely not a horse. Their proportions are too different; the head is much bigger and rounder, the body is more compact, and the face is too humanoid. But overall, they don’t appear to be real, more like a character from a cartoon. All of their colors pop too vividly.

“Good to meet you, Anthony. I am Faust.”

She offers one of her hooves as if going for a handshake. I reach out, fully aware I have nothing to reach with and shake her hoof. I don’t know how, but I definitely felt contact. Her hoof is very soft.

“Yeah… Same to you.”

Faust smiles a warm, motherly smile, beaming at me like I was her favorite son. I honestly don’t know where to go from here.

“Uh… don’t take this the wrong way, but what are you?”

“Hmm? What am I?”

She looks down at herself, studying her body.

“I am myself. What do you think I am?”

“You kind of look like a horse. But not really? I don’t know.”

“A horse? Interesting… I am never sure what form I will take when I appear before a soul like this. As I said, bodies are temporary things. But you see me as a horse, or what you surmise is a horse. Curious.”

“Yeah. Um, what do I look like to you?”

Faust stares at me with her emerald eyes. They are deep like the ocean, perhaps deeper.

“You look like you. To me, you look like Anthony.”

“Huh, cool, I guess.”

I really have no idea what that means. Again, I’m not going to question the cartoon horse god.

“So you said I had a choice. You were going to give me a choice on where to go?”

“I am. Walk with me.”

We start walking through the void. It feels much less cosmically terrifying than it did before when I was on my own. Instead of total darkness, there are now vague hints of color and shape. It makes me picture a very dim lava lamp.

“Do you live here, Faust? In this Realm of Potential or whatever you called it?”

“You could say I’m a frequent visitor, but no I don’t live here.”

“Yeah, I guess it’s not exactly beachside property…”

Faust giggles again. It’s a very warm sound.

“So where do you come from?”

“Oh, beyond.”

The word has a certain weight to it the way she says it. I keep my silence, expecting her to elaborate, but she simply continues walking. Actually, I think I hear her humming something like a song.

“So, where are we going now?”

“Nowhere in particular. It just seems a shame to not enjoy another’s company for a bit. You agree, don’t you?”

“I- yeah, I guess that’s true. I haven’t been for a good walk in a while. And I can't even remember the last time I had company when I did.”

“You see?”

Faust smiles at me and we share a laugh. It really does feel nice to be with someone. To share a moment with them. For some time now it’s mostly just been me and my ever darkening thoughts.

The comfortable silence continues as we stroll through the void. The colors and shapes are definitely getting more vivid now. I see points of light, triangles, squares and other geometric forms in every size and color. They spin and slide and flip past us like a laser light show. Maybe this was always here and my mind is just now starting to expand enough to appreciate it.

Distantly, I can hear voices. At least, they sound like voices. At the moment they are just mumbles and murmurs, too indistinct to make out proper words. Imagine hearing music in a passing car where you only get a vague impression of the bassline and drums. That’s what it sounds like to me.

This place gives a different feeling now. I’m filled with a sense of wonder and awe. Things that felt impossible before seem very possible, even probable now.

“Hmm, I think we’ll stop here for now.”

I turn to see Faust still smiling, but there is a hint of sadness—a sort of melancholy there too.

“This is as far as we can go. It always seems to come so fast…”

“What does?”

“Your awakening. But you are still too young for that, too immature.”

“I mean, I can go to the bar now and hardly ever get carded. I even have a 401k.”

Faust fully faces me, one last giggle escaping before she speaks.

“Anthony, you are a funny one. I hope you keep that with you when you go.”

“So it’s time to choose then.”

“Yes. When I send you on you may return to Earth. When you return you will be reborn. All of your memories of your previous life will be erased. You will be an infant human and you will live out your days just as any other human.”

“Okay.”

That option didn’t sound too bad. Reincarnation. I guess religion got something right there.

“You may also choose to be reborn in another part of your own universe. You may be a Martian living before the Great Cataclysm. Or as a €£¥^€ living on a small world in the Andromeda galaxy.”

“A what? You mean I could be reborn as an alien? You can send me back in time?!”

Faust nods.

“Woah…”

“Of course, your situation will be similar to being reborn as a human. Your memories of your previous life will be erased and you will live out your life the same as any other creature on that planet would.”

Becoming an alien sounds pretty amazing. Though, I suppose I won’t have the memories to appreciate just how cool that would be.

“So in either scenario I’m a blank slate it seems.”

“That is accurate.”

“So why give me a choice at all? I mean, I won’t remember I even had a choice to begin with.”

“Because choosing is very important. It defines who we are. You are Anthony, you are you because of your choices.”

“That makes a sort of sense, I guess.”

“But you did not let me finish. You see, recently, though perhaps not very recently from your perspective, I have created a separate universe. One I am quite fond of to be honest.”

“You created a whole universe?”

“I have. It’s nothing too special. Most of my kind have created one or two universes in their time. This is actually my first one. I want to make sure it turns out well.”

“You really are God.”

“Just Faust, please. You see, I have another option for you. I can send you to my own universe. And since it is my own universe, I can do something special for you.”

“Which is?”

“You will be reborn with all the memories you have now.”

“Wow. But why would you do this for me? It seems like a pretty special gig. I’m no one important.”

“You are a good person, Anthony. You even took a bullet for a perfect stranger.”

“Well, that was just in the heat of the moment.”

Faust shook her head.

“No, you are a good man and I am quite selfish, you see. I wish for my universe to be full of good people. By sending you there, I hope that you will act as a sort of guide for everyone. I hope that you will improve the world just that much more.”

“Geez, it feels like I’m gonna be the messiah.”

“I am not sending you there to be a savior. Just to live your life fully with all the experiences that you’ve gained so far. How you want to live your life there will be up to you and you alone. That is, if you take my offer. The choice is yours.”

Standing there in the shifting space of eternity, I weigh my options. Being reborn as a human sounds pretty standard, but also pretty comfortable. It will be a familiar existence even if I don’t remember the last time I was there. Of course, my last time there wasn’t anything to write home about.

If I’m reborn as an alien on some distant planet in some far away galaxy that doesn’t necessarily mean it will be all Star Trek and laser beams from then on out. I could end up as some worm parasite living out my days in the intestines of a space whale for all I know.

I look at Faust. Her form; the form that appears to me as some cartoon horse.

“Faust, can you tell me where I’ll end up in your universe? What are the beings like there?”

Faust seems to consider whether or not to tell me for a moment. She puts a hoof to her chin, thinking.

“I will send you to a land called Equestria. The beings there, well, I suppose they’ll be much like I appear to you now.”

“They’re all strange horse things? Er… no offense.”

“Some of them. They are good and kind beings, maybe a bit too naive.”

“Huh.”

I look around at the shapes once more. Now they are starting to gain form and solidity. They tumble over one another endlessly. Looking down at where my body should be I start to see the faintest trace of an outline of a figure. My figure.

“And staying here with you isn’t an option?”

“Technically it is. But I will not allow it and neither will the rest of my kind. It is too soon for you.”

“I see…. I’ve made up my mind. Send me to your world, Faust.”

“You are certain?”

“I am. I’ve had my time as a human. And being an alien sounds cool, but I’d hate to end up in a scary place. Plus, I want to thank you.”

“Thank me? How is that?”

“Well, it sounds like you don’t hand out this deal to every soul who passes through here. I don’t know, it makes me feel kind of special. Like somebody wants me. Like I matter. I haven’t felt that in a long time. Maybe, like you said, I can do some good there.”

I face Faust, smiling.

“And who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth?”

Faust laughs and raises a hoof up. I feel myself being lifted. Far away, but approaching quickly is the light where Faust emerged from earlier. The light shines brighter and brighter as it nears until it fills all of my senses.

“Thank you, Anthony. Please, live a good life and come back to me. I want to hear all about it when you do! Goodbye for now!”

My last thought is that I never asked her if we’ve met before. Oh well, guess that can wait until next time.

The light engulfs me and finally, I lose consciousness.

Chapter 1: Speak like a Child

The world is dark. Not total infinite darkness like the void; more like when you're hiding under the covers on a Monday morning because you don’t want to go to work. It’s a cozy darkness. There’s a sort of red glow surrounding me and I hear a thumping sound.

The thumping is in time with my heartbeat. Am I hearing my own pulse? That’s a little worrying because it’s never been that loud before. And far away, like I’m underwater, I can hear people talking.

Around me, the walls of my dark world contract. I feel them squeezing against me, pushing me upward to an even tighter space. The voices grow louder. I think someone is screaming.

What is going on?

Being squeezed is starting to get uncomfortable when I feel a new sensation. Someone is grabbing my head. I don’t know how or where, but someone is grabbing me and pulling me further into the tight space.

Then suddenly, the darkness is gone and a bright light forces my eyes shut. I feel cold. My head is cold and wet. The shouting is now clear and sharp. It stings my ears. It sounds like a woman in pain.

The force pulling me gives another tug and I feel the rest of my body slide out of the warm tight place. I’m drenched in something thick and slimy. I can’t open my eyes all the way so I can only catch fleeting, flickering images of red and white and pale green.

Coughing, I spit up some viscous fluid and I start screaming. This is crazy! Someone is lifting me up to the light. Shadows pass back and forth in front of it.

The woman’s screams stop. Now all I hear are the whimpering cries of a baby. Wait, the cries are in time with my own screaming. Weird.

Something warm and fuzzy is being wrapped around me. That helps with the cold, thankfully.

“Khi’so oi-no wiro!”

Strange, foreign sounding words reach my ears. The voice is male and close. I think it is whoever is holding me. They rub the slime from my face with some cloth and pass me to someone else. With the slime gone, I think I can finally open my eyes properly. The light doesn’t seem so bright anymore.

When I open my eyes I’m greeted by two smiling faces; one masculine, one feminine. They remind me of Faust.

The male has dark brown fur and his mane is an even darker brown. On his face is a small amount of stubble which is odd considering he’s already covered in fur. His eyes are golden and even though he’s smiling, he’s clearly holding back tears.

“Heiyo, leudo-kulte.”

His voice is strong and low. He shifts closer to the female and kisses her forehead.

“Thondyu.”

I notice then, unlike the male, she has a periwinkle blue horn poking out of her head. It matches her fur. Disheveled white hair frames her face and though her eyes have tired, dark bags underneath, they still smile happily down at me. They twinkle with magenta irises.

“Khi’so bellpello… Eg’sa blithy-swa yu’motten.”

Her voice is soft and gentle like a summer breeze. Both of them stare down at me with eyes of adoration. Something clicks in me.

These two are my parents. I’m not sure how I know that, but I feel strongly that it’s true. I try raising my hand to touch my mother. I want to feel her fur.

A tiny cream-colored hoof extends from out of my wrapping. That little hoof is mine. God! I’m an infant. I’m a baby version of the two horse-like figures before me. Those last few bizarre minutes… was I just born? Faust said I’d be reborn in her world and well, it appears that wasn’t just her being figurative.

The male horse reaches out and takes hold of my hoof like it was a treasure.

“Myné noma’so Brembé-Elmer. Eg’so sui patr.”

He, my father, gives my hoof a little squeeze. It’s weird that he's even able to. Our hooves have no digits, and yet I can definitely feel something squeezing around mine. It is a comforting grasp telling me, “I’m here for you.”

“Ed thes’sa sui matr, Estari-Bella. Wes’se sui perendé.”

I wish I understood what he was saying. The impression of the words comes across though. My mother holds me close, nuzzling me against her nape. She is very soft. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and her scent soothes my thoughts.

More voices start talking. Opening my eyes again I see a whole group of these horse-like beings gathered around the bed my mother rests on. Some of them, females by my guess, wear nurse caps and have coverings over their forelimbs, almost like gloves.

A male horse is speaking with my father by the bed. This one wears half-moon spectacles and a stethoscope hangs from his neck. In his hoof is a clipboard he is showing my father. I guess this is a hospital room.

Medical equipment lines the walls of the room. Pale green covers lay over my mother, matching the color of the drapes hanging around the bed. Some of the female horses, those with the nurse caps, gather up dirty rags into a bucket and leave the room. Only two females are left in the room now and the male one with the clipboard. I figure he must be a doctor.

My mother is humming something. Maybe it’s a lullaby? Lethargy seeps into me. It’s getting hard to keep my eyes open. The earlier ordeal didn’t seem like much, but it took a lot out of me it seems.

I hear the doctor ask my father what sounds like a question.

“Yus thenkus oi-no noma?”

My father looks at my mother; they both nod. Taking the clipboard from the doctor, my father starts to write something down as he speaks.

“Sé, khi noma’so Leithester.”

Leithester. Lodestar. For some reason the word comes to me. I don’t know how exactly, but I know it is my name. My name is Lodestar.

With that revelation, my eyes droop close once more and I fall asleep. My mother’s lullaby guides me into a deep slumber.

My dreams are filled with many things; flying horses, unicorns, bright shining starlight, the Sun and the Moon, and a huge rainbow. I can’t make much sense of it. Rather than dreams though, they feel more like visions, like they hold some sort of prophetic importance. Most of the images fade quickly once I wake however.

It’s now been a few weeks since I was born. Most of my time is spent in a cradle staring up at a mobile of stars. Sometimes one or both of my parents come to fawn over me. But yeah, being an infant is horribly boring, if I do say so myself.

Sometimes I cry just to make my father or mother come running over to see if I’m okay. They fuss about making sure my diaper is clean and I’ve been fed enough formula. Once they’re satisfied I’m okay they leave to another part of the house and I cry again to make them dash back over and start the routine once again. Maybe it’s cruel, but it’s my one joy in life right now, okay?

My parents must be fairly well off. When they brought me home I got a glimpse of our house. It is on a street corner in a bustling town. Far behind the house is a mountain with what looks like a white castle perched on the cliffs. It gives me some serious fantasy vibes whatever it is.

Our house marks the end of a line of picturesque town houses, all of which are three-stories high or taller. I think I’m on the top floor of our house; the fourth floor. My room has a sort of penthouse feel to it.

I’m pretty sure there are more horses than just my mother and father living here. Nearly everyday I see other horses, some male, but mostly female walking through my room. Some mornings they’ll open the drapes of the great bay window in my room to let in the sunlight. Some nights one of them will join my mother in reading me a bedtime story or singing me a lullaby. I must say, these horses have some great singing voices. They know how to blend in harmony perfectly.

My favorite time is when they read me stories. Picture books are the best. I can make associations with the pictures they point at and the words they say and start to pick out some meanings.

For instance, I’m fairly certain my mother’s name, Estari-Bella, is something like Star Flower. I get the feeling it’s not quite right, but I’m definitely in the ballpark. At the very least, I can confirm she is my mother. She always points to herself while saying matr or mamma. That one was pretty easy to figure out.

Which also confirms the one I’m calling father is indeed my dear old dad. Patr or papa aren’t too difficult to make sense of. His name though, is more of a puzzle. Brembé-Elmer. My mother is able to point at the stars on my mobile and then to herself when saying her name to help me associate the stars with Estari. But my father hasn’t found a good analog yet. I think Elmer has something to do with a head, since he always seems to point there when he says it.

Understanding their language will come in time which I have plenty of, but actually saying the words is much more difficult I’m finding. Every time I open my mouth to speak all that comes out are the mewlings and mumbles of an infant.

Maybe even if I’m used to speaking properly, it will still take a while for this body to understand what I want it to do. That would also explain my total lack of motor skills currently. Well, I was never much of an athlete to begin with, but I figure I should at least be able to crawl around my crib if I want. Oh well…

So the weeks pass by and turn into months. Another oddity I notice thanks to my big bedroom window is the plethora of horses flying by our house. That’s right. Horses. Flying.

And if that isn’t enough of a head trip, yesterday I saw something even more incredible. My mother fed me my formula like she does every morning, but getting sick of drinking the same mush day in and day out, I threw the bottle out of my cradle. Instead of bending over and picking it off the floor, my mother levitated it back up to me. Her horn glowed in a magenta-colored aura, the same aura encased the bottle, and she magicked it back into my gaping mouth. Now that was some trick!

The really cool thing is that once, when my father was bathing me, I got a good look of myself in the mirror. I am a little tannish cream colored guy with light purple hair. I also have a little nub of a horn sticking out of my head. Does this mean I’ll be able to do magic as well one day? Time will tell, I suppose.

In other news, my language comprehension is coming along. I now know what to call these beings. The word is poni. So yeah, not horse, but pony. It’s true the word fits better as they are a lot cuter than horses. It’s odd that it sounds so close to my own word for it though. In fact, a lot of their language is eerily familiar to English, like it belongs in the same linguistic family.

I figured out the word from one of my mom’s picture books. The book showed three types of ponies: Oinacern, Pfedewan, and Erda-pon. I translate these as Unicorn, Pegasus and Earth Pony. The second one, Pfedewan, is a little off though. I think more literally it’s something closer to “feathered one,” but the only analogous creature I can think of is a Pegasus so that’s what I’m calling them.

It’s surprising how quick I can pick up on these words now. Perhaps my infant brain is better suited to learning new concepts. Certainly, I was never this good back when I was taking Spanish in college. I hope I can keep it up though. But hey, que sera sera.

My most major language accomplishment, at least as far as mom and dad are concerned, is my first actual spoken word; Mamma. A round of applause is not necessary, but is appreciated. Honestly, I tried to say the more formal term matr. It came out as mamma, but no matter, we take the small victories here.

Today, mom has me in a pram. I actually get to go outside and see something besides cradle bars! With us is one of the mares, mera, that sometimes visit my cradle. I wonder if she is a friend of the family or perhaps some relative, like an aunt. She couldn’t be my sister as I’m pretty sure I’m an only child. She looks of age with my mom, though that’s only speculation on my part. I don’t really know how these ponies age exactly, but I’m guessing it’s similar to humans.

Mom calls her Esterstrig. I call her Starstruck in my head. Her fur is dark mauve and like my mom she has a horn. Her mane and tail are alabaster with stripes of blue and purple. But what catches my attention is a sunburst tattoo on her flank.

I remember glimpsing one on both my mom and dad whenever they picked me up out of my crib. Their tattoos are different though. Dad’s looks like a spiked helmet and mom’s is a six-pointed star overlapping a flower. It reminds me of her name which I’ve since updated my translation; instead of Star Flower it’s Stellar Blossom. That could be totally wrong, but my gut tells me I pinned the tail on the pony. Maybe it is just the fashion of these ponies to get a tattoo that symbolizes their name? Except for the little ones, every pony I see has one.

It occurs to me now what dad’s name might be. Brembé-Elmer. A spiked helmet. That could be Bramble Helm. Cool.

Mom and Starstruck push me along the cobbled streets of our neighborhood. Townhouses line the curbs in bright pastel hues. Ponies, mostly Unicorns, pass by heading this way and that. Some poke their heads in my pram to admire my cuteness. I play my part, sucking innocently on my pacifier with a couple of “goo-goos” and “gah-gahs” thrown in for good measure. That’ll fool them!

The weather is perfect. It usually is, so much as what I can see from my window. Every so often I see a Pegasus pony fly overhead. Once, I even saw one pushing a cloud with them… sure, why not? If ponies can fly it stands to reason that they can push clouds around like they are solid, tangible objects. I’m willing to accept anything at this point.

In a few minutes we reach what looks to be a town square. A patch of grass rests in the middle surrounded by more buildings. Carts and tents are set up around the square with food and textiles and other goods on display. This could be a market, I suppose.

The buildings around the square aren’t houses, but stores. I see pony mannequins through some of the windows modeling expensive looking clothes. Other buildings have dining tables set up outside and I watch as ponies sit and order food and drink. Those must be restaurants.

We reach a bench and mom levitates me out of the pram and onto her lap. Starstruck takes a seat next to us. In her hooves is a plate full of biscuits. She must’ve gotten them from one of the food vendors when I wasn’t looking. They look really good, but unfortunately for me, mom produces my bottle and urges me to drink. Sigh, I guess I am a baby after all.

At first I found it odd that these ponies would even need a clothing shop. Mom and dad are always in the nude as far as I can tell, not that I’m judging. Starstruck too is wearing nothing but a smile. But as I sit sipping on my bottle I see all sorts of ponies in various states of dress.

An Earth pony in a top hat and cape walks by shuffling his cane to and fro in front of him. A Unicorn carrying a parasol sashays through the square showing off her lacy purple and gold dress. Some Pegasus ponies zip by in blue skin tight uniforms. It seems that ponies do like to dress up. Just not all of them all the time.

Starstruck says something to mom I don’t quite catch, but mom looks to agree with her because she smiles and nods her head.

“Sé, thes deg’sa bellpella.”

Yes, it is beautiful today. I can understand that much. I wish I knew what to call this language, though. For now, “pony talk” will have to do.

In the distance I hear a noise. It sounds like trumpets. Everyone in the square looks toward the road that leads further up the mountain toward the white castle. The fanfare grows louder and the ponies closest to the noise clear a path in the street to let someone through.

Both mom and Starstruck stand up. Mom puts me back in my pram and then bows her head with Starstruck.

A Unicorn dressed in golden armor canters down the street, his snout pompously facing the sky. He calls out to the crowd as he passes.

“Alle hylé, Pri-regia di Kallista!”

All hail, the first ruler of the Heavenly Sky. Or something like that. I think I got the first bit right, but I’m not really sure if the second part is meant to be a title or a name. Either way it sounds important.

A column of ponies dressed in shining armor march forth into the square. The sharp polished pikes they hold gleam brightly in the daylight. Behind them is a golden litter and on the litter sits the biggest pony I’ve seen yet.

She is pure white like the faraway castle. Her mane and tail flow behind her in an ethereal mantle of colors. On her head rests a golden crown and a long spear-like horn juts out from it.

Another new thing about this pony is that she has wings. It’s the first time I’ve seen a Unicorn with wings before.

She smiles serenely at the crowd as the litter passes. It is in stark contrast to the stoic gazes of the rest of her entourage.

Mom and Starstruck are nearly groveling on the street when the litter comes near. Mom loses her grip on my bottle and it rolls out along the cobbles only to stop directly in front of the litter.

Poor mom goes into a quiet panic when she notices her faux-pas. Starstruck is also living up to her name. They both start to crawl over to grab the bottle when they stop. An aura surrounds the bottle and levitates back over to them. The color of the aura doesn’t belong to either mom or Starstruck. It’s then I notice the long white horn of the winged Unicorn on the litter is also glowing.

The litter and the armored ponies stop and the winged Unicorn steps down to the street, carrying the bottle beside her.

“Heiyo, myné leuda-pones. Eg thenka thes’se sui’sen.”

The bottle settles down next to me in the pram. She stares down at me with a warm smile. There’s definitely something different about her compared to the rest of the ponies. Her whole vibe reminds me of Faust in a way, except not as potent.

“Th-thondyu, Pri-regia.”

Mom is doing her best to hold it together in front of the winged Unicorn.

“Khi’so oi-no kuud wan. Mekha ais’sa khi noma?”

“Leithester, Pri-regia. Khi noma’so Leithester.”

The words come out as a breathless whisper as my mom bows once more. I’m not certain how I feel about this clearly powerful being knowing my name. I try to remember where I’ve seen this pony before.

I think it was in one of my vision dreams. There was a pony just like her standing in front of the Sun facing another darker pony standing before the Moon. And those images are similar to one of the picture books mom read to me. It is the same one where I learned the names of the different types of ponies.

The two of them are circling one another; the Sun chasing the Moon. Mom called them swessora. Sisters. Sisters of the Sun and Moon. They are Pri-regara. First rulers. No, that’s not it. It’s close, but something different. It’s more like… Princesses.

How about that? My first day out and I meet a princess. I’m starting to think cosmic coincidences are just attracted to me and I’ve yet to decide if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. I hope it’s the former.

The Princess and mom exchange a few more words. Mom calms down when she realizes there’s no trouble. Starstruck can only manage a few nervous shakes and nods. All told, our little meet and greet with royalty goes fairly well.

After some more pleasantries courtesy of mom, the Princess bids us farewell and returns to the litter. The trumpeters sound another fanfare and the royal parade continues down the street. Once the last pike slips out of view, Starstruck falls back onto the bench. Yeah, she totally just feints like an anemic grandma. I definitely picked the right name for her.

It takes a bit for mom to get Starstruck back on her hooves again. By then, the hustle and bustle of the town is back in full gear. Ponies talk excitedly to one another, probably about receiving a visit from the Princess.

The three of us head back home by midafternoon. Mom carries some groceries she bought at the market in her shroud of aura. Starstruck also bought some things; some cloth and sewing needles. They float beside her as we reach our house.

Mom takes me back up to my room and leaves me in my crib. Starstruck stays with me while mom goes back downstairs, probably to prepare supper. She takes a seat by the window and starts pulling out the cloth and sewing supplies from her bag. I watch her take the needles in her aura and thread together different cloth into an intricate pattern.

Lacy weaves of stars and crescent moons take shape as she works her needles. Clearly, she’s had a lot of practice with using her magic like that. I’ve seen mom trying to knit with her magic and it never looks as clean as this.

I wonder if I’ll be able to do things like that with my horn? I’ve already tried—in the long hours lying in my crib—to make some kind of magic happen. It never does. The trouble is, unlike language, I have no analog to base it off. Back on Earth, magic is just a parlor trick. The wackos who claim they can bend spoons and float objects with their minds are just charlatans.

When I’m older, perhaps I’ll get a teacher?

A knock comes from the door and Starstruck looks up from her work to see who it is. Dad enters, fresh off from work it seems. I can tell because he’s always sweaty after work. I don’t know what he does, but it must involve a lot of physical activity.

“Heiyo! Eg’so heim.”

He trots over to my crib and gives me a kiss on the head.

“Wilgonen heim.”

Starstruck gets up to greet him. He turns and pulls her into a deep kiss. Uh… what?

Now to be entirely fair I’m the alien here. Perhaps this is just a local custom? The thought immediately sounds ridiculous. What kind of husband full-on French kisses another woman, er mare, besides his wife?!

The two of them break apart a little breathless. Bramble beams at Starstruck like she’s the love of his life. Another knock sounds at the door and in walks mom. She greets Bramble, promising supper in a few minutes, and he pulls her into an identical kiss to the one he just gave Starstruck.

Great, my dad is a total sleezeball. I wonder if mom has any idea that her husband is cheating on her in her own house? I can’t even fill her in because, oh yeah, I'm a baby pony! Faust, what have you gotten me into?

Chapter 2: A Loving Family

Being a baby gives you a lot of spare time. For instance, in the corner of my room hangs a calendar that I’ve spent quite some time studying. I’m fairly certain it is a calendar because it’s a booklet of paper with little squares drawn on each page. The squares have little scribbles in the corners where normally the dates would be. Why am I telling you about a possible calendar you may ask?

Well, see this calendar is different from the ones I used on Earth. For one, there are too many days for each month. The current month shows thirty-six days divided into six weeks of six days each. The month before had thirty-seven days, again divided into six-weeks with one day left over.

Since being born, I’ve kept track of the days. It's a leftover from working in an accounting office for years where meeting billing deadlines is do or die. Anyway, my count of days is at two-hundred fifty-five.

Assuming the alternating count of days per month remains constant, that makes me seven months old.

Neat, right? Well, listen if you don’t think so, just remember that the usual highlight of my day is playing with my rubber ducky in the bathtub. And don’t judge. I love my ducky.

The good news today is that Mom is taking me out again. I guess I’m at an age now where she feels more comfortable bringing me out in public. It's better than soiling my diaper in a crib all day, I’ll tell you that.

This morning we are heading to a bookshop a few blocks from our house. It seems Mom is quite an avid reader. I’m pretty sure my room used to be where she stored her book collection as there are still a few bookshelves lining the walls, though they’re mostly filled with picture books and baby toys now.

She is always reading to me. Mostly at night before bedtime, but sometimes she’ll take me to the park down the street and read to me under this big oak tree. I wonder if she’s one of those parents who thinks that constantly reading and playing music to babies ups their intelligence? I suppose in my case it’s helped me get a good grasp on pony talk. Not that she realizes, of course.

Of course, being able to better understand what everyone's saying has expanded my view of their ways and culture. For example, I learned that Dad isn’t cheating on Mom (thank goodness)! The two of them and Starstruck are in a polygamous relationship.

Their word for it is kerda, meaning “group” or “herd.” It has a homophone, kerda, which means “heart” so I’m always mixing the two up. The ponies seem to use the two meanings interchangeably too which makes it even more confusing. Maybe it’s akin to someone saying you are “my love” or “my heart” the way we do on Earth?

I learned all of this thanks to a story Mom read me the other day. The tale is similar to Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, but Snow White is a Unicorn prince and the seven dwarves are six mares who live in a magical tree in someplace called the Always-Free Wood. I find it funny that fairy tales are even a thing in a world already full of magic.

But, I digress. The main point is that polygamy and polyamorous relationships seem to be the norm here. Starstruck isn’t the only other mare in the herd. There are two others; a Pegasus named Éosari-Skei and an Earth Pony called Boán e’Petari. There’s also another stallion, Seuthe-Kuerdo. He’s a Unicorn.

Their true names are still mostly a mystery to me. In my head I call the Pegasus “Easter Sky,” the female Unicorn is “Good Desire,” and the male is “True Hearts.” I apologize now for bastardizing what I’m sure are very nice names. My only excuse is that I’m a baby and yes, I will fall back on that whenever it’s convenient!

True Hearts is with Mom and me today. He and her chat happily about this and that. It seems there is a party happening tomorrow and True Hearts will be going to perform a song. He motions strumming an instrument with his hoof.

On his flank there’s a tattoo of a guitar-like instrument. I think it might be a lute, but I’m not sure. All I know is that up in my crib I hear him playing music sometimes. I’ve never actually seen him play, but from what I can hear in my room he’s very good. He must play with his magic because hooves seem wholly unfit for fingering stringed instruments.

I like True Hearts. He comes up to my room often to play with me. He uses my baby rattle as a sort of maraca and taps out beats with his hooves while he sings songs. As an entertainer, he’s the best I’ve seen since coming to this world, not that I have a lot to compare him to.

Like most Unicorns, he styles his chocolate mane around his cream-colored horn. His fur reminds me of French vanilla ice cream; white with dotted flecks of dark brown here and there on his coat. His amethyst eyes sparkle with enthusiasm as he explains his upcoming performance to Mom.

The three of us—me in a stroller—enjoy the walk through town. This place really is very beautiful. Birds chirp down from the eaves of the houses. Ponies greet one another with smiles as they pass on the street. A soothing breeze brings scents of pastries and sweets and perfumes from the market square. I’m grateful that I’ll get to grow up in such a warm neighborhood.

After a few blocks, True Hearts bids us adieu and continues down a different street further into town. Mom waves him off with a big smile. Looks like she really loves him. When I see that it makes me understand a little how the whole polygamy situation can work out. “All you need is love.”

Now it’s just me and Mom and we soon arrive at the bookstore. The front facade has a relief of a large elm tree climbing from the cobblestone street up to a mansard roof. A wooden sign hangs over the front door with an image of a book carved into it. Beneath the book are symbols spelling out “Ald-almé Libersta.” The Elder Elm Bookstore.

A bell chimes as we enter. Inside, shelves upon shelves of books creep up the walls of every room. Metal steps in the center of the shop spiral up three floors worth of novels, encyclopedias, scriptures, scrolls, tomes, atlases and more. Some look fresh off the printing press, while others are worn and dusty with age.

An older looking pony, gray with a balding mane, balances precariously on a step-ladder behind the front desk. His wizened ears perk up at the sound of the bell ringing.

“Oi-né monemen! Eg’sillo oi-né—ahhh!!”

Rather predictably, the poor old pony slips and falls back in a shower of parchment. Mom rushes over to help him back up. I get a better look at him as she brushes dust and cobwebs from his head with her magic. Luckily, the fall looked more dramatic than it actually was.

He wears a red sweater vest and round reading glasses that sit low on his snout. Smile lines adorn his cheeks and the sides of his green eyes. Most interesting is his horn, or rather, his lack of one.

On his forehead is a small bump where a normal Unicorn’s horn stands proudly. It reminds me of my own little nub. Maybe it stopped growing properly when he was young? It couldn’t have been cut off…

The old bookkeeper shoos my mom off with a few halfhearted “I’m fines” and “no reallys.” He speaks at a calm, measured pace which makes it easy to understand.

“Thank you, myné meran, but I am fine. Yes, really. I have lost count of how many times I have fallen off that old coseré.”

“I keep telling you that you need more help around here, Liber-Wiss. You’re getting too old to take care of all this yourself.”

“Rideress! I do just fine on my own, thank you. Now what is it that I may help you with today, Miss Blossom? Buying, renderi, selling?”

It’s obvious Mom has more to say on the matter, but she bites her tongue allowing the change of subject. Seems this isn’t the first time they’ve had this argument.

“I’m buying today. I’d like to see if you have any children’s books in stock. I think Lodestar is getting a little bored with picture books.”

I guess Mom has noticed some things. It’s true that picture books aren’t giving me much new material nowadays. I’ve more or less grasped basic vocabulary and grammar. Getting to read or listening to someone read something more robust would help push my language learning to the next step.

“Ah yes. Your newborn, I see. Curious that a foal that young would even compredari anything past a pop-up book.”

“Yes, I think so too! I don’t know why, but it really looks like he compriedo the words I read him. There’s a light in his eye I tell you. I even saw him out of his crib playing with my old glossaria book from school the other day.”

Maybe I should tone down on the baby genius act for a bit. Seems even in a world of magic ponies, a newborn reading a dictionary is a bit much. It is a shame though, that Mom caught me before I could start to make heads or tails of the contents.

Liber-Wiss—Book Wise, or maybe Book Smart—settles himself behind the desk and pulls a large notebook from a drawer underneath. Adjusting his spectacles, he flips through the pages as he speaks.

“Curious though it may be, I never turn away a hungry mind. Let us see… Yes, I do have some in the back. May I ask you to wait here for a moment?”

Mom nods and Book Smart disappears behind a bookcase in the back of the shop. He carries his large notebook on his back rather than floating it with him. With his horn like that, it could be that he can’t use magic well.

While waiting on his return, I hear the doorbell chime and another Unicorn enters. Like my mom, she is pushing a stroller with a baby Unicorn.

“Stellar Blossom! I haven’t seen you for ages. How are you? Is your herd doing well?”

“Duwa-li Vella! I could say the same! How are things? You must tell me. Are you still with Nakta-Li? My, is this little one yours?”

The two of them are all over each other the way only longtime girlfriends can be. I lose track of their conversation as I peer over at the baby Unicorn.

His coat is pure white, but interestingly, his hooves are a different color. I rarely see ponies with that feature. They are dark blue matching his mane which is actually striped with a whole gradient of blue tones. His big blue eyes stare back at me with the vacant wonder of an infant. I’m guessing there’s no reincarnation trapped in there.

Seeing as this is the only other baby I’ve met here I decide to initiate contact.

“Goo-gah~”

Take that!

He stares at me for a moment. His eyes study me with great fascination, pondering his reply. Opening his little mouth, a spit bubble forms and pops.

“A-goo—“

A decisive rebuttal. Ah yes, yes, I see. Very astute observation, my fellow baby. Thank you for that much needed insight. I hope we can again combine our mighty intellects and engage in more thought-provoking dialog someday.

“Yes, he is mine. His name is Gellaré-Armo.”

A snippet of the adults’ conversation catches my attention. Gellaré-Armo? That could be Gleaming Armor, perhaps. His mother, Duwa-li Vella, is something like Half-lit Fleece. And yes, I realize I’m probably way off with that second one, but I remind you Faust didn’t exactly offer a crash course in pony talk before she sent me here. So Half-lit it is for now.

Half-lit looks similar to her son. She is light gray with a mane of purple and white stripes. Her flank is tattooed with three five-pointed purple stars of varying size. Her eyes are the same shade of blue as Gleaming Armor’s.

“We are planning to have another, yes.”

“Really? Taking care of Lodestar keeps my hooves busy all day. I can’t imagine having another right away.”

“I know what you mean, but Nakta-li can hardly keep his hooves off of me now I’m not pregenum. Not that I’m complaining. He certainly knows how to use them.”

The two mares share a bashful giggle. I roll my eyes. Please, my virgin ears can’t handle any pony sex gossip at the moment.

I wonder what it would be like to have a sibling though. Back on Earth I was an only child so I never got the experience of looking after a little brother or sister. I did have a hamster named Hambone, but that’s a bit different I suppose. I doubt any future siblings I get would run themselves to death on a hamster wheel.

“We should get together soon. Maybe we can set up a little playdate with Armor and your boy. I’d love it if they became friends!”

“We should! How does next week sound? We could have lunch on Leifdeg.1”

“It’s a date!”

Book Smart reappears balancing even more books on his back as he makes his way back to the front desk. He must have some practice at it because he has a stack of at least eight books on top of his big notebook from earlier. There’s even some scrolls resting on top. It reminds me of a circus performer stacking chairs and whatnot on their nose.

“Good day, Ms. Fleece. I will be with you in a moment. Ms. Blossom, I found an assortaré of books that I think will suit you and your foal. Please, take your time choosing.”

He spreads the books out over the desk so mom can look over them. Their covers come in all different colors, but only a few of them have full illustrations. I can read bits and pieces of their titles. There’s “The triaré of Sun Dancer,” “An Apple too Far,” “Starry Eyes in the Chocolate Castellan,”and “Keuthé Flowers.” I can’t make out all the covers from my stroller seat. All of them are about as thick as a chapter book.

“Goodness, will he even compredari most of these. He’s still just a baby, no?”

Mom gives Half-lit the same spiel she told Book Smart about how I’m a little baby genius who needs to be feared by all lest you suffer my future pony wrath. Or something like that. I don’t know, I’m too enamored with the thought of hearing some actual full length stories for once. It’s the little things I tell you.

Half-lit seems amazed in any case. She asks my mom some more questions about me and my reading abilities. Mom answers enthusiastically. Clearly, she’s very proud of me. It’s a little embarrassing, but also feels good.

The old shopkeeper smiles as Mom prattles on to Half-lit. His green eyes twinkle and he gives me a small wink. I don’t really know what to make of that. I seriously doubt he knows what I am, but there is something knowing about his smile.

Clearing his throat, Book Smart politely catches the other two’s attention.

“I also brought the music kata-logen Mr. Hearts ordered the other day. Would you be kind enough to deliver them to him on my behalf?”

“Oh, of course. Thank you very much. And as for the books… I think I’ll take these then.”

A magenta aura surrounds three of the books as Mom makes her selection. She floats them over to an old mechanical register on the desk while pulling out her purse from my stroller. Book Smart taps out the order into the register. It makes some satisfying clicking and clacking sounds as a scroll wheel on top displays the price.

“That will be two-hundred forty bits2, myné meran.”

From out of Mom’s purse, several gold coins—some large, some small—float over to a tray by the register. Book Smart quickly separates and counts the coins, nodding as he dumps them into the register.

It’s funny. When I was an online accountant I used to keep track of electronic currencies like bitcoin. Now it looks like I’ll still be using bit-coins in this world… Ahem. That was a joke if you’re not laughing.

“Thank you for your boánficeré, Ms. Blossom. Will that be all for today?”

“Yes, mestro Smart. We should be heading on now. Still have some coseri to get from the market today. Thank you for your help.”

Mom turns to Half-lit.

“So Leifdeg then. Noon?”

“We’ll see you then. Wave bye-bye, little Armor.”

Half-lit helps poor little Armor wave goodbye with her blue-colored magic as we exit the shop. Thankfully, mom lets me keep my dignity.

We continue further into town. Mom has more of a skip in her step now. I guess since having me most of her free time is taken up by childcare so she hasn’t seen her friends a lot.

“How does that sound, Lodie? You made a new friend today. Your first friend! Oh, that sounds so wonderful!”

Well, if it will get me out of the house more I can’t complain much. Hanging out with an infant is a small price to pay. I never had to deal with kids much back on Earth, but it’s not like I’ll be expected to entertain the rugrat.

I spot the market up ahead. It’s just as busy as every other time we go. Ponies of all races—most of them Unicorns—mill about and barter down prices with the shopkeepers. Mom takes her time perusing the stalls and their goods. She haggles back and forth with a produce vendor on the price of a bushel of carrots.

As the carrot vendor makes his final offer, an unfortunate lettuce seller across the street loses a wheel on his wagon and several heads of the stuff roll out into the square.

“Myné galegi!”

Ponies shake their heads in sympathy as the lettuce seller scrabbles after his vegetables. I hear some of the more haughty-looking ones snicker after him. Jerks.

“Oh deura.”

An Earth Pony walking up to us notices the kerfuffle and puts a hoof to her cheek. It’s Good Desire, one of Mom and Dad’s herd mates.

For most ponies, I can usually appreciate their cuteness, but Good Desire is one of the few ponies I’ve seen that I would consider beautiful.

She’s slender and taller than Mom. Her fur is a dark gun-metal gray. Curled silver locks of mane drape over one of her red eyes giving her a sultry appearance. Her tattoo is a pair of smiling red lips with a little tongue sticking out the side.

“Heiyo, Boán. What brings you here?”

Mom greets Desire with a kiss on the cheek. She also spares a sympathetic glance for the lettuce seller.

“Poor stallion…”

“Hylé, Stellar. Yes, that is unlucky. Perhaps someone should watch his cart for him while he picks up his verdeni?”

Desire tends to slur her words. I think she has some kind of accent compared to the rest of the ponies, but of what, I can’t say. If I had to pick an analogy I’d say it’s similar to a French person trying to speak English. In any case, it makes it a little more difficult to understand her sometimes. Luckily, I’m around her enough that it’s not too much of an issue.

“I came here to help with buying groceries. I also had an idea for supper tonight. Cheese keeshé with rausten esperagi.”

She looks over to the tilted lettuce cart. There’s a group of younger looking Unicorn colts inching nearer to the abandoned stall. They glance shiftily back and forth across the crowd, trying to seem inconspicuous. A frown settles on Desire’s face.

“But that will have to wait.”

“Boán, wait a moment—“

Mom calls after her, but Desire’s jaw is set in determination. The crowd parts for her as she marches over to the stall and the colts.

“Pardoneré, jentile-kulti. May I ask what you are doing? The good vendor of that stall is busy at the moment. I’m sure if you wait for him to return he will be happy to help you, no?”

The colts are clearly taken aback at the sudden confrontation. They take turns shuffling their hooves and mumbling amongst themselves before one of them—probably the leader—steps forth.

“We saw. We’re just watching over the fella’s shop ‘til he gets back. Isn’t that right, boys?”

The rest of the colts regain a little more confidence at the leader’s words. They nod their heads in agreement. Desire takes the measure of them and is unimpressed. Her smokey eyes study each of their faces in turn and each one of them shifts uncomfortably under her gaze.

“I see. You need not trouble yourselves any longer. I shall watch over the cart in his stead. You may all of you go about your day.”

The leader isn’t so quick to back down.

“Tch. And who, may I ask, are you? You supposed to be the galegi guard or something? We’ll be fine just where we are, thanks. You can move along now, Miss.”

Desire stands her ground. Mom is hopping hoof to hoof in nervous jitters wondering whether to leave and go get help or run to Desire’s side.

“You don’t want to make more of a scene of this than it needs to be, do ya?”

The leader’s horn starts to glow as he takes a step toward Desire.

“What is going on here?”

The leader colt stops short and both he and Desire turn to see a stallion clad in silver armor approach from out of the crowd. He carries a short spear and on his flank is a tattoo of a spiked helmet. Dad?

Bramble Helm stands beside Desire, giving her a short nod. He strikes an intimidating figure; his polished armor gleams in the sunlight, the sigil of the Sun emblazoned on his helmet. The tip of his spear looks sharp enough to shave with.

“I’m secuán-louteneré Bramble Helm of her megestari, Princess Kallista, city guard. Is there a problem here?”

Sweat beads on the leader colt’s brow as he considers his situation. When it was just an Earth Pony challenging them he had nothing to fear. He had his magic. But a city-guard, even an Earth Pony city-guard, is not someone he can mess with easily.

“There’s no problem here. We were just trying to be good citizens and watch over the poor ol’ galegi-seller’s stall. This one comes over and starts accusing us of something. If there’s a problem, it’s her.”

“You and the rest of your conpatreoti will remember that I never accused you of anything. I simply said that I will watch the stall and you all should move on. No pony has made any accusations, unless… Is there something you should feel guilty about?”

“No more than you, dirt-lover3!”

A few gasps come from the crowd, and ponies—both Earth Ponies and the other races—give disgusted, disapproving looks to the leader colt. I guess “dirt-lover” is some kind of slur here judging by the reaction. I hear Mom snort in anger and stomp her hoof on the street as if readying herself to charge the leader.

Dad steps closer to the leader colt, his large shadow dwarfing the smaller Unicorn.

“I suggest you watch your mouth, sir. I remember seeing a flash of light coming from your horn just before that cart lost its wheel. Would you care to come with me and explain why that would be the case?”

The leader finally backs down. He shies away from Dad, his tail curling up between his legs like a scared puppy. His reply comes as a chagrined mumble.

“Just a coincidence…”

“I see. Then kindly go about your day, citizen.”

The leader and the rest of his posse trot away in defeat. Dad gives Desire another quick nod before turning and telling the crowd to disperse. Desire smiles and politely curtsies as Dad leaves, presumably to return to his post.

At home, Dad is always full of kisses and hugs for me and the rest of the family. He often picks me up and tosses me up and down the way that fathers do to their kids. On the job, it appears he likes to keep things strictly professional.

It becomes clear to me why he’s always covered in sweat when he gets home from work. That armor didn’t look very breathable. And policing the city out in the Sun all day wearing that was bound to make you perspire.

Mom pushes me over to where Desire is standing by the lettuce stall.

“Oh my, Boán. Are you okay? Don’t ever do that again! You saw his horn, he was about to—“

“Peace, Stellar. I'm fine, see? Bramble had my flank.”

Desire smiles, mischievously.

“And he will have more of it tonight. Mmm, I love seeing him in his armor like that. What a stud!”

Mom sighs, exasperated.

“Ugh, why must you always be so—so you?”

Desire looks mildly affronted.

“Why if I was not myself, who would I be? In any case, we still have some shopping to do, no? Come along, Stellar. I doubt any pony will mess with this cart after all that.”

Damn. She is one cool customer. Way to go, Mama Boán!

With my newfound respect for Desire firmly set, we follow after her to complete our grocery shopping. Mom tells her about the new books she bought for me. Desire tickles my chin as she picks out the ingredients for her keeshé.

The rest of the day goes by without incident. Before long we are heading home, hooves full of grocery bags and new books.

That night the rest of the family returns home for supper and every pony agrees the food is perfect. Of course, I only get to enjoy a mashed up baby food version of it. Still, anything is better than formula.

True Hearts and Easter Sky listen to the whole tale of how Desire stood up to the market square bullies and how Dad came and chased them off.

“I would’ve picked that one up and dropped him like the dumb bag of rocks he is if I were there!”

Easter is very offended when she hears what the leader had called Desire. She bangs a hoof on the table rocking everyone’s drink glasses.

“A pity you weren’t there, myné deura. That would be a sight to see.”

Desire smiles warmly at Easter and pats her hoof soothingly.

“A pity if you were. I don’t want to think about how I’d explain that one to l’Caputé.”

Dad grabs his wine glass before the contents spill over. He doesn’t usually drink, but he told Mom that today had been a particularly long day
at work and he needed some good wine.

I can empathize with that. I lost track of how many days I came home from the office after being chewed out over this thing or the other by my boss just wanting nothing more than to sit down and crack open a cold one. It’s eerie sometimes how similar this place is to Earth.

Once dinner is done, Mom brings me back upstairs to my crib. She told the rest of the family over dessert how she set up my first playdate with Gleaming Armor and how she’s so excited that I’ll be making a friend.

I’m excited too, in a way. Maybe once little Armor grows up he really will be my first friend here. Time will tell, I suppose. For now, I’m just thankful for being born to such a loving family.

My dreams that night are full of more visions. The Sun and the Moon. A vast spreading rainbow. A white castle with stained glass windows. A strange stone statue. And six glowing orbs.

Faust, what does it all mean?

******************************************************

Hoofnotes

In this story, a week is divided up into six days. Suwendeg, Leifdeg, Erdeg, Skiedeg, Estadeg and Lundeg. You can think of Leifdeg as their equivalent to Monday.
In the show canon, the value of a bit tends to be quite volatile. For the sake of consistency, I’ve standardized a single bit to equal $ 0.25 USD. This means Stellar spent the equivalent of $60 USD for the books.
A slur specific to Earth Ponies. The Equish word is drither-slot.

Chapter 3: A Magic Block

“Lodie! Hey, suané, time to wake up.”

I open my eyes.

My room is different now. Where there was once a crib, now a small bed rests flush against the wall. The great bay window still lets in the morning Sun, but now there is a small writing desk before it with some unfinished drawings spread across the surface. A glass lamp resting on top sparkles in the light, casting a prism of colors on the opposite wall. A cedar bureau and shelves crammed with thick books take up the leftover space. I’ve gathered a lot more reading material in the past six years.

Turning over on my pillow, I see Mom peeking through my door giving me a warm smile.

“Good morning. Come on, brush your mane and teeth. You’ve got a big day today. Breakfast is downstairs.”

“Coming…”

Sadly, being reborn as a Unicorn didn’t make me more of a morning person. It doesn’t help that I was up late sketching in my notebook. Old habits die hard I suppose.

With a heavy sigh, I manage to force myself up from out of the cozy bed covers and down the hallway to the bathroom. Standing before the mirror over the sink, I see my mane has a serious case of bed-head. Brushing it thoroughly by hoof can be a real pain though.

I stare intently at the brush resting by the faucet, concentrating on its shape, its color and its form. A tingle grows in my chest and I direct it upward through my body to my head. In the mirror, I see a transparent teal aura slowly enveloping my horn. The same aura wraps around the brush and I feel its weight similar to if it was in my hoof.

Once I have a firm grasp on it, so to speak, I try lifting it up off the sink. This is always the difficult part; my success rate with levitating objects so far is around fifty percent.

The brush trembles, quivers and slides out of my magic onto the floor with a clatter. Grumbling, I reach down to grab it off the bathroom tiles when another aura surrounds it and floats it back up to me. I turn around to see Soothplayer—my Unicorn “uncle” of sorts.

His true name is Seuthe-Kuerdo1. I used to translate it as True Hearts, but after a few years of familiarizing myself with the language I settled on Soothplayer as a better translation. That’s still not fully accurate though.

The trouble is his name is a sort of pun. Lots of pony names work that way. Anyway, I won’t bore you with the details. The main point is that it’s complicated and Soothplayer works well enough.

“Thanks, Soothe.”

“Don’t mention it. And don’t worry about your magic. It takes practice for everypony when they’re first starting. You’ll get it and before you know it’ll be second nature.”

“I hope that happens before this afternoon…”

Soothplayer ruffles my already messy mane.

“It’ll happen when it happens. No use in worrying over it. You’re a smart colt, Lode. I could barely make a spark happen at your age.”

With that bit of encouragement and another mane ruffling, he leaves me, probably heading downstairs to get his breakfast. I take my time getting ready for the day.

By the time I make my way down to the kitchen, the rest of the family is settled and eating. A bowl of oatmeal is set at my usual spot.

Across from me, Bon Appetit is feeding Arabesque, my half-sister. She’s the daughter of my dad and Bon—the one I used to call Good Desire. When I was four years old, she and dad made Arabesque.

Unlike me, Arabesque is an Earth pony. She’s a lighter gray than her mother and has light pink stripes through her dark gray mane. The tips of her hooves are the same shade of pink. They remind me of ballerina shoes.

“Lodeeee! Lodeee!”

She calls my name and I give her a little wave. A big smile spreads over her cute little face. She’s adorable and she knows it.

Bon tries to get her to swallow another spoonful of mashed oats.

“Here comes the train, myné leuda-filla. Open up. Upaniné!”

Arabesque simply blows a raspberry and tosses the spoon across the table with a giggle. Dad deftly catches the spoon as though he was ready for it while taking a sip of his morning coffee.

Next to him sits Sunny Flare. She’s my other half-sister. Her parents are my mom and Soothplayer. She’s two years younger than I am, but seems so much more mature.

She neatly scoops her oats up and dabs her mouth politely with a napkin after swallowing. Her coat is bright magenta and her fiery mane curls down around her horn like a lick of flame.

“Good morning, Lode.”

“Morning, Sunny.”

“You and Mom and Bramble are going out today, right?”

“That’s right, deura. Me and Bram are taking Lodie to his entrance exam today. Isn’t that exciting?”

Mom sits down next to me with a wet comb and starts attacking my mane. Seems my own efforts aren’t up to her standards. Suddenly, I lose my appetite for oatmeal.

“Mom, it’s fine. I doubt the exam will be on how well styled my mane is.”

“Stellar, let the colt eat his breakfast in peace.”

“Oh, but doesn’t it ever just lie flat?”

“No.”

Dad skims through the morning paper while taking another sip of coffee. He looks up at me, studying my face.

“Something on your mind, Lode?”

“No, sir. Just—is it alright if I head over to Shining’s place now? We’re planning to go over together anyway. You guys can meet me there, right?”

“You’re not going to finish breakfast?”

“I’m full, Dad. Really.”

I think Dad can tell exactly what’s on my mind, but doesn’t question me further. He simply nods and goes back to his paper and coffee.

“We’ll meet you at Night Light’s then. Remember your manners.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you. Bye, Mom, Boán, Sunny.”

I kiss Arabesque on the cheek as I leave the kitchen. I get a cute little giggle for my troubles.

When I reach the front door, Aurora Sky is entering and hanging up her flying goggles. Aurora—formerly known as Easter Sky—works with the weather Pegasi over Canterlot. She tends to get the night shifts though.

“Morning, squirt. Heading out already? Thought your exam wasn’t until the afternoon?”

She lets loose a big yawn. Bags hang heavy under her emerald green eyes.

“Shame I can’t be there. I’d love to cheer you on.”

“Thanks, Sky. You look like you need a bed though.”

“Or a nice fluffy cloud.”

She stretches her purple feathers out as she heads for the stairs up to her room.

“Good luck, squirt. Haah, and good night.”

I head outside and down the street a few blocks until I see Shining’s house come into view. His place is much like my own, only not as many floors high.

We both live in Canterlot’s higher income residential district. This part of the city is called the Upper Crust. Most of the ponies who live here come from noble families or rich mercantile herds. Dad was able to land a spot here thanks to his job and rank in the city guard. I suppose it also helps to have multiple ponies in the herd bringing in the bits. I know Soothplayer gets big billing for his performances and Bon does really well with her cafe.

Shining’s family is well off too. Night Light, Shining’s father, works with the royal court mages. I think Twilight Velvet, his wife and Shining’s mom, also used to do something similar before she became a stay at home mother.

I ring the doorbell and Velvet ushers me in with a welcoming smile. She really is a nice mare and I feel kind of bad for referring to her as “Half-lit” before. I corrected her name around the same time I figured out Shining’s true name. At least I was pretty close with that one.

Shining is waiting in the living room playing with his little sister, Twilight Sparkle, on the floor. Twilight is the same age as Arabesque; two years old. She’s a little purple thing with a striped mane like her mother’s. She rolls around on the floor knocking over a tower of building blocks.

Shining gets up and greets me with a hoof bump.

“What’s up? You ready for today?”

“Totally. We’ll ace this exam and be back for dinner before you know it.”

“Heh, yeah…”

An awkward silence follows. Clearly, like me, Shining has his doubts and also like me, he doesn’t want to voice them lest they become a reality.

“Oh yeah! Dad got me a new Paladin figure for our campaign. Wanna see?”

“Bet!”

He takes me upstairs to his room where we pour over his figures. They are part of a game called Ogres and Oubliettes, think Dungeons and Dragons. Being the nerd I am, it proved easy to bond over the game with Shining. Of course, it was a big surprise when I learned that dragons are actually a thing here. I wonder if I’ll get to meet one someday?

Together, the two of us spend the morning coming up with plans for our campaign. My character is a bard while Shining prefers the paladin. Neither of us bring up the topic of the exam. It isn’t long though before Velvet knocks on the bedroom door and tells us it’s time to get going.

Shining and I exchange a look.

“Guess it’s time then.”

“Yeah, guess so.”

“I wonder if we’ll need that levitation spell you showed me the other day?”

“Hope not. I couldn’t even float a brush this morning. Heheh.”

“Heh, yeah…”

We head downstairs to find Mom, Dad, Velvet and Night Light waiting in the foyer. Bon is here too. Looks like she’s in charge of looking after the little ones while we’re gone.

“You colts ready?”

Dad searches both our faces like a sergeant inspecting his troops. Shining smiles excitedly as he does so. He likes Dad and the fact that he’s part of the city guard. Maybe because it reminds him of the paladin?

“We’re ready, Dad.”

Dad nods and our group heads out after saying our goodbyes to Bon and the little ones. We all stick to a tight group as we head uptown toward the school district.

Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. The name intrigues me and has done so ever since I heard it two years ago. A whole school dedicated to teaching magic. I wonder what it will be like?

The Sun is past its apex when we arrive at the school. I spot a few students heading inside through the great oak doors at the entrance. Above the doors is a motto; Oi-na kerdari kerna es’sa kerdari menda. “A heartful horn is a heartful mind.”

We enter after the students into a large antechamber. Paintings, friezes, and tapestries adorn every painted wall. Small vignettes of statues and furniture tuck themselves neatly into cozy nooks. To either side of the entryway, intricately carved wooden stairs swoop down from the upper floors, framing the hall ahead in rich mahogany. Our footsteps are muffled by an elegant carpet marking the pathway to the main hall.

I hear Mom and Velvet whispering excitedly to one another. Seems this is bringing back old memories for the two of them. Dad walks on stoically. Being in the city guard has made him used to such expensive settings and Night Light does his best to imitate the same air of quiet dignity. I do catch him sneaking glances at a marble bust of an ancient Unicorn general though.

Shining Armor and I drink in the sights like thirsty pilgrims. Everywhere and everything exude regalness and intellectual pride more so than any university or institute on Earth could hope to achieve. This truly is a place of higher learning.

We reach the receptionist’s desk at the front of the hall. An older looking Unicorn mare adjusts her reading glasses and magically straightens a stack of parchment as we approach.

“Good day. May I help you?”

“We are here for the entrance exam today. Could you direct us to the Starswirl lecture hall?”

Dad answers for our group. He stands at attention, back stiff and head held high. The mare studies him over her glasses. Her expression takes on a dismissive air when she notices his lack of a horn. At least, that’s how it appears to me.

“Yes, yes. New students here for testing, but not you, the Earth pony? It must be the two young colts hiding behind you and the two whom I assume must be their mothers. May I have their names? I need to check my registry for their appointed times and check them in if you don’t mind, sire?”

Shining and I exchange a look. We are definitely not hiding behind our moms like some scared little foals. Nodding, we silently agree that this mare is too stuck up for her own good. Dad plays off the slight as only a veteran guard can.

“Yes, ma’am. The two of them are the ones testing. My son, Lodestar, is the one on the right with my wife, Stellar Blossom, and Shining Armor is the one to the left with his mother, Twilight Velvet.”

“I am Night Light, Shining’s father. Pleased to meet you.”

Night Light offers a nervous hoof to the receptionist, but she is busy scribbling down our names in her registry and doesn’t seem to notice. After a minute, her eyes drift up from the book to Dad, a half-bored expression playing across her features.

“And you are?”

“Bramble Helm, first lieutenant of Her Majesty’s Royal City Guard. As stated, I am Lodestar’s father.”

“I see.”

Her tone is one of bemused disbelief. She sets aside the registry with her magic and rings a little bell next to her gilded reading lamp.

A younger mare comes trotting up to the desk at the sound of the bell. She’s also a Unicorn, but much less snooty-looking than the receptionist. Her light orange fur is accented by a black and yellow striped mane. On her flank is an image of an overflowing pot of honey.

“Yes, mistress Paper Pusher? Did you need me for something?”

“Honeypot, please escort these ponies down to the lounge by the lecture hall. They, by which I mean the two small colts, are here for the entrance exams today.”

“Of course, right away! Please, follow me everypony.”

Her chipper voice makes me think of an energetic honey bee zipping through a flower garden. She makes a beeline down the hallway and our group has to canter a few paces to catch up. As we head to the lounge, Honeypot gives us a small tour of the sights we see along the way.

“And this is a tapestry depicting the signing of the treaty at the Pasture of the Fleece of Gold. It’s very pretty… Actually, there’s a hidden passage behind it that leads out of the school to the Twisted Horn tavern downtown, but shh! Don’t let anyone know I told you that. It’s supposed to be a secret only the seniors know about, but hey, their secret is our secret.”

Mom and Velvet share a quiet giggle. It appears the secret hasn’t been much of one for a long time. Shining winks at me when Dad is looking the other way.

“Sounds like a good way to ditch class sometime. You in?”

“Definitely.”

My answer comes as a whisper when I notice Dad’s ear perk up. He turns to us with a stern look, but we put on our best masks of innocence and he goes back to listening to Honeypot’s tour seemingly none the wiser. It feels good to share secrets with a friend again. I can hardly remember doing it back on Earth.

Before long, we reach the lecture hall. A bronze placard above its closed doors reads, “Starswirl Lecture Gallery.” Across the hallway is a smaller room where I see other families seated and waiting. Presumably, they’re all here for the entrance exams like us.

“You can all wait here until they call you in. Shouldn’t be long now. Good luck!”

Honeypot waves goodbye as she turns back down the hall. I wonder how old she is? She looks only a few years older than Shining and me. Well, I suppose if I pass the exam I’ll get to see her again and ask her myself.

Waiting in the lounge somehow manages to take forever while also seeming to pass by in a few minutes. Anxiety is the most prevalent emotion in the room. Would-be students sit jittering in their cushioned chairs while their parents pace back and forth over priceless carpets.

Each applicant gets called into the lecture hall one by one. The doors must be sealed with a silencing spell since I can’t hear anything once an applicant enters. Minutes pass until finally the pony exits either smiling ecstatically or loping away in a dismayed stupor. Usually it’s the latter. Sometimes they’ll enter and exit on their own and sometimes they’ll be with family like me.

All of the Unicorns besides Shining and me are older, maybe around ten or twelve. I remember Soothplayer saying how unusual it was that someone my age was applying at all. I wonder if that’s a good thing or not? Will they single us out because we’re so young? I’m grateful I’ll have my folks supporting me.

“Applicant Gellaré Armo. Please enter.”

Shining Armor swallows in trepidation. I can see sweat beading on his brow and when he stands his legs wobble like jelly.

“Guess that’s us.”

Night Light doesn’t look that great either, but is clearly doing his best to keep a calm demeanor for his son. Velvet is a rattle of nerves. Dad puts a reassuring hoof on Shining’s shoulder.

“I’m sure you know, but no matter what happens in there, everyone here is proud of you. Do your best and you’ll be fine.”

Shining looks from the hoof on his shoulder to Dad and then to his mother and father. Night Light and Velvet smile warmly back, eyes full of pride and adoration. He turns to me and nods, determination settling on his face. I nod back.

“Go get’em, Army.”

“Yeah, see you on the other side, Lode.”

They exit the lounge and I hear the doors to the lecture hall open and close decisively. Mom and Dad and I sit in silence while we wait. There’s only a few applicants left in the room besides me and there were only a handful to begin with.

I know Shining will be fine. His knack for magic is no joke. As long as the test is something reasonable, like levitation or basic transformation, he should pass with flying colors. Surely, they can’t expect much else from untrained Unicorns?

But what if they are? I remember all the spell books stacked on the shelves in my bedroom. Most of the formulas I could hardly wrap my head around; divination, transmodulation, hydromancy, pyromancy, allomancy and even chrono-teleportation. And here I am barely able to float a hair brush half the time. What am I even doing here?

I feel a pair of hooves wrap around me; one from my left, one from my right. Mom and Dad hold me close until their warmth spreads through me. I smell their scents, a floral bouquet from Mom, an earthy balm from Dad.

“What I said earlier. The same applies to you, Lode. We’re proud of you no matter what.”

“We love you, deuro. You’re our bright guiding star. You’ll be fine.”

Mom kisses my cheek and strokes my mane soothingly.

There’s a part of me—the old Anthony part—that’s envious. When I was a kid I can remember turning in my application to art school and telling my parents all about it. How excited I was about pursuing my dream. I vividly remember how my father told me I should start searching for back-up schools and how my mother asked her friends if they knew of any job openings around in case my application fell through.

Certainly, looking back on it as an adult, I can see they were just being practical and looking out for me in their own way. But I wonder sometimes how I would’ve turned out if I was given the same level of support that Mom and Dad show me now.

I guess I wouldn’t be here. And I never would’ve met Faust or Mom or Dad or the rest of the family. So maybe things were just meant to happen this way?

“Applicant Leitherster. Please enter.”

All three of us stand and head for the door. Being so caught up in my own thoughts, I didn’t notice Shining exiting the hall. By the time I spot him and his parents, he’s already rounding a corner further down the hallway and I can’t catch his attention. His face is turned away so I can’t even tell his expression. Did he pass?

I don’t have much time to worry though. The doors to the gallery open wide as we enter. Rows of long desks and benches flow downward in tiers before reaching a semi-circular stage at the bottom. A podium is placed toward the back of the stage and behind it is a massive modular blackboard.

There’s a piece of chalk magically writing my name in large script on the board. The yellow aura surrounding it belongs to one of the four ponies sitting at the bottom tier before the stage.
All four of them are Unicorns2—two stallions and two mares—and all of them hold clipboards with parchment attached for note-taking. One of the stallions is collecting more parchment into a neat stack from the other three. It’s probably the scores and notes of the previous applicant, Shining Armor. Already, they are making glances at me and my parents and scribbling down comments with levitated quills.

I don’t take much notice of them however. Most of my attention is on the large marble sphere in front of the blackboard. Pieces of rubble surround the sphere where it meets the wooden planks of the stage. It looks like someone carved it right on the spot.

As we step down the stairs leading to the bottom, I can appreciate just how justly formed the sphere is. It reminds me of a computer model; completely smooth with no signs of being worked by tools. It’s a perfect geometric form. Euclid would be proud.

“May we ask the parents to confirm the identity and details of birth and residence?”

Dad heads over to where the four are seated and reviews a piece of parchment. I notice one of the mares eyeing Dad with an even more snooty expression than the receptionist from before. Her face oozes contempt and she rolls her eyes when he points out a mistake as if wondering why she has to deal with this Earth pony. Equestria lacks a lot of the shortcomings of Earth, but it appears racism isn’t one of them.

The sight makes my blood boil and I look to Mom to see if she’s feeling the same. Mom, however, doesn’t appear angry, but rather sad. She has a look of pity, but whether it’s for Dad or the snooty mare, I can’t tell. Perhaps she’s seen this too many times to feel angry about it anymore? Sadness creeps up on me the more I think about it.

For his part, Dad ignores the mare’s looks and stares her down with his unflappable golden gaze. If stoicism had a face it would be Brembé-Elmer. The stallion doesn’t let anyone or anything disrupt his calm. I can picture a rock holding steady in a fast flowing stream.

After reading through the parchment a final time, Dad gives a curt nod and returns to my side.

“Applicant Lodestar, please step forth.”

I want to, but suddenly my legs feel like they’re made of lead. I take a moment trying to remember how to walk. A quick nudge and wink from Dad and a hug from Mom help to get me moving again.

“Boán na faustan.”

They whisper good luck to me as I take center stage in front of the marble sphere. In front of me, the judges stare down their snouts over their clipboards without sympathy. High above, I see portraits of past professors with austere expressions seeming to judge me as much as the four Unicorns.

“Another young one, it seems.”

The snooty mare’s voice is shrill and unwelcoming.

“Yes, just like the last. I wonder if these parents are making light of our school nowadays. Having a bit of talent doesn’t make you a shoe-in.”

One of the stallions answers her. His words come out as a bored drawl. On his cheek rests a monocle which he adjusts as he reads through my profile.

“Applicant Lodestar: age six. Born of a Unicorn mother and an—ahem—Earth pony father. When did you get your first spark, applicant?”

“It was half a year ago. I woke up one morning and my horn was glowing like a star. The books in my room were all floating around and so was I until Mom came in and settled me down.”

“Mmm, yes, I see. Nothing unusual as far as these things go.”

His tone isn’t as derisive as the snooty mare’s, but his aristocratic drawl doesn’t come off as amicable either. His orange eyes set against his dark blue fur give him a nocturnal appearance. The other stallion, gray-maned, brown-furred and bespectacled, looks to his colleague adding his own opinion.

“Come now, Gaslight, surely the boy's age factors into it? Half a year ago you say? Why, you would've been all of five years old then, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You see? Levitation doesn’t normally form at such a young age—especially at an awakening. Of course, it’s not unheard of, but still impressive nonetheless should it turn out to be true.”

The mare next to the brown stallion offers her agreement with his assessment.

“Professor Fullproof has a point. I’d be interested to see how our school will mold such a young mind full of potential.”

Like her snooty yellow counterpart, she has a gray mane pulled up into a tight bun, but her fur is a light sky blue. Her blue eyes, while stern, aren’t shooting daggers at me. Instead, they’re full of appraisal, like a jewel shop owner inspecting a rough cut gem. She puts a hoof to her chin in consideration.

“Have you been able to replicate the feat since then, young one?”

“Sometimes I can levitate books and other small things around my room, but no, it’s never like the first time.”

“Hmm. A magic block, perhaps? It can happen in untrained Unicorns. The solution tends to be getting the pony to surrender their inhibitions to the magic. I’ve dealt with it before. Nothing that can’t be corrected.”

She speaks more to herself than to the room at large. Her quill jots down her thoughts, whizzing across the clipboard in a blur.

“Hexa, the foal’s parentage must be considered as well. Rarely do we see Unicorns of mixed heredity succeed as those of pure-blood. I fear their potential is…diluted, so to speak?”

I feel my eyes flinch. I'm getting really tired of Miss Snooty’s attitude.

“Professor Scones, you know as well as I do that there have been multiple studies done that disprove your viewpoint. Magic is only ever as strong or weak as the individual. And with proper training, raw ability can be raised ten-fold.”

At least the one named Hexa has a solid head on her shoulders. She strikes me as the stern, but fair type.

“Actually, the studies were more or less inconclusive on the matter, Professor Lulamoon. The statistical variances showed no strong correlation either way. Granted, there were many outlying variables that I argued against including as they were bound to muddy the data. I hope the Board will allow me and my own team to redo the experiment at some point as—“

“Yes, yes, Professor. We can all agree that further study will be needed.”

Gaslight cuts off Fullproof’s ramblings with a wave of his hoof.

“Gathering a history of the colt’s magical feats and determining his raw potential is all very important, but we must stay focused on the task at hoof. For now, we must judge the applicant’s abilities by what he can show us today, here in this hall where so many great magical minds began their journey.”

Gaslight points his quill at me with his orange magic.

“Before we begin, may I ask why you’ve come to our prestigious institution? What do you hope to achieve by enrolling?”

I take a breath, settling my emotions before I answer.

“Professor, I want to learn all I can about magic. I want to know how far I can go as a Unicorn and I think this place will help me with that. That’s why I want to enroll. I don’t want to regret not taking my chance while I have it.”

“No regrets? I see. Very well we shall hold you to that and test your mettle, are you ready to begin?”

“I am, sir.”

“Good. Now, Professor Fullproof, please explain the test to our young friend here and do try to keep brevity in mind.”

“Yes, Professor Glamour.”

He shows a chagrined smile to Gaslight and gives me a wink before he continues. He reminds me of one of my uncles back on Earth; sort of good-natured yet slightly bumbling. I don’t mind it, though. It keeps the whole situation grounded in a way.

“Now, Lodestar, was it? Yes, well, if you’re not yet as blind as me you’ll have noticed the large marble sphere behind you.”

“I have, Professor. Does my exam involve it somehow?”

“Right on the horn, myné kulte. Yes, you see we would like you to sculpt us something today.”

“Sculpt?”

“Indeed! With your magic, of course. Here, let me prepare your material first.”

A silver aura—the same shade as Fullproof’s eyes—envelopes the sphere and the rubble on the floor. Like pieces in a jigsaw puzzle, the bits of debris fit themselves back together under the Professor’s magical influence. When the last piece is fitted snugly in place, the once perfect sphere is now a large rectangular slab of marble. There is no trace of the seams where the rubble reformed. It looks like it was cut fresh from the quarry this morning.

“Wow!”

The word escapes me as a breathless whisper. In my reading, I learned about repair spells. They require a very clear image of whatever object you’re hoping to reform in your mind’s eye. It’s a subset of transmutation magic.

I remember trying it out on a broken pencil once. After what must’ve been a hundred failed attempts, I managed to stitch the wood back together, though one look at it and it was obvious to anyone that it was once in two. Yet, the Professor managed a seamless reformation with brittle material separated into thousands of pieces. And he made it look easy.

“There we are. Now as I said, your task is quite a simple one in concept. We are not expecting perfect artistry from you. The last applicant chose a very simple form to shape. I’d advise on a similar strategy. A sphere, cube or pyramid should suffice, but I wouldn’t fault you for getting creative with it, eh?”

The good Professor’s words seem to come from some far away place as my mind kicks into overdrive. The first thought is relief. Shining Armor must’ve passed if he was the one who made that sphere. Way to go, Army!

Second comes disbelief. How in the world did he do it? With magic, of course, but I didn’t think he was that much beyond my own ability. In fact, I thought I was further ahead as far as magic was concerned… Reality is humbling no matter which universe you’re in it seems.

The third feeling is hopelessness. There’s no way I can do what Shining did. While it’s true that separating material is easier in theory than reforming it, making such a perfect shape on my first attempt is crazy. The most I could manage is maybe shearing off a piece of it using a slicing hex. I doubt that would impress them much.

Maybe my human mind isn’t cut out for magic? I always seem to have a hard time visualizing the outcome I want. The spell formulation becomes messy as a result and I get some half-baked version of what’s expected. I don’t blame my Earth pony genes. I know it’s a byproduct of being an old jaded human mind hiding in a young colt's body. But there isn't much I can do about it at this point.

“Don’t give up, Lodie!”

“You got this, son!”

I look up. I only just now realize I’ve been staring at the floor while having a small panic attack. I see Mom and Dad. Any doubt I’m feeling is absent in their eyes. They really believe I can do this…

I gather myself and take a deep breath. Maybe it’s not as impossible as it seems? Shining did it after all. Maybe there’s a trick to it?

“Do hurry up, applicant. We have more exams after this and I’d rather not be here all day, Celestia willing.”

Professor Scones is flipping her quill around with her sickly yellow magic as she stares disinterestedly down at me. I feel something light up in my chest. I’m not going to fail in front of this stuck-up mare!

Looking at the marble slab I think back to my spell books. All spells require on some level a basic visualization of the magic being performed. I have to see the form buried in the marble. It’s already there. I just have to bring it out.

Putting a hoof to one of its faces, I feel its smooth cut surface. It’s hard, but also brittle. Puffs of white dust flake off as I run my hoof over it. I need a full picture of it in my mind’s eye. I got to touch the marble, feel the marble, sniff the marble, date the marble… wait, what am I even saying?

Sighing, I turn back to face my judges. I see Professor Fullproof grinning eagerly, waiting to see what I’ll do. Simple forms will suffice, but I won’t fault you for getting creative.

Spheres, and cubes and pyramids are all easy images to conjure up, but they’re almost too generic. I can’t seem to hold any particular one in my head for long. Certainly not under this pressure. I need something more distinct.

I concentrate on my magic. The spark in my chest ignites and I channel the energy up to my horn. I need an image.

The magic pools at the base of my horn, shaping itself to my thoughts. Spell subset: transmutation. Base material: marmoré. Function: subtraction. Subset: sculparen. Product:____

An image coalesces in my head. It’s a memory. No, maybe a dream? There’s a statue. Some creature. A long undulating form with claws and talons and wings. It’s misshapen. Discordant. It’s face in agony. What is it?

I don’t know and don’t care. The vision is strong and vivid. This will work!

My magical potential strains at my horn. I can feel the surging energy reach out and take hold of the marble. I remember this power. It’s always been there. I just need to believe.

A swarm of colors crosses my vision. And then everything is white. I can hear my own breathing. I can feel my beating heart. It calms me. I sense the marble clearly as if I were hugging it. It vibrates. And then suddenly, it breaks apart and in its place a statue is formed.

My teal magic dissipates. I look round at the room. Mom and Dad are transfixed, staring at me as if I were someone they’d never met before. The four professors are all in various states of shock.

Gaslight lost his monocle at some point. Fullproof is about to fall out of his seat. Hexa is on her feet, eyes wide. And Scones is staring slack jawed, her bun starting to come undone.

“Meran Superiari!”

Fullproof adjusts the small bow tie around his neck trying to catch his breath.

“My stars, I’ve never seen the like! Such detail! But how do you know of it? Have you been to the royal gardens, young one?”

I turn to face my creation. It’s a perfect replica of my vision; a strange mismatched creature writhing in agony.

“I don’t know… I—it just sort of came to me. I’ve never seen it before. What is it?”

Gaslight takes a moment to collect himself before answering with one word.

“Dis-Kerda.”

Dis-Kerda? Torn Heart? No, it’s more specific. That’s too literal. I look up into the creature’s eyes searching for an answer and the word comes to me. Discord.

My parents run to me. Mom hugs me and I think I hear a small sob escape her. Dad puts a hoof on my shoulder, his normal stoic expression now a hodgepodge of confusion, pride and weariness. What did I just make?

The professors have more or less recovered by now. Hexa clears her throat before speaking.

“Well, that was certainly an impressive showing, Lodestar. Your subject, while unorthodox, shall we say, is nonetheless perfectly formed. In fact, it is the most impressive display of sculpture I have seen demonstrated today.”

“Uh, thank you, Professor.”

She looks to the rest of her colleagues. All three of them nod, even Miss Snooty.

“It seems we are in agreement. Applicant Lodestar, you have passed your exam.”

Now Mom is really hugging me tight. Dad joins in as well and I think I feel a rib crack.

“Way to go, Lodie! Oh, I’m so happy for you!”

“Nice going, Lode! You showed’em all!”

“Guys, can’t breathe…”

It takes a moment for the words to sink in. I passed. I really did it. I passed! Laughter escapes my lips. I can’t help it. Have I ever felt this way before?

“Yes, congratulations. You may exit down the hall to your left when you leave. Miss Paper Pusher will provide you with details on the date of your orientation as well as any books and supplies you will need to purchase before the start of term. We hope to have you back here healthy and ready to learn.”

Professor Lulamoon puts a check next to my name on the blackboard and gives me a small smile.

“Until then, mister Star.”

“See you then, Professor.”

I take a final look at the odd statue before we leave. It’s hard to imagine I made that. The professors are also still examining it as well. Fullproof even comes down to the stage to inspect it, mumbling something to himself as he traces over it with his magic. Well, whatever, a pass is a pass.

Our party exits the lecture hall with a skip in our step. The spacious hallways echo with the sound of our laughs and cheers. When we finally get back to the reception area we find Shining Armor and his parents still showering him with praise.

Shining and I exchange a hoof bump.

“Guessing it went well then?”

“Pssh, piece of cake.”

“Are you two ready? We’re going to Bon Appetit's cafe to celebrate. She said she’s cooking your favorite pasta tonight, Lode. Shining, you and your parents are welcome to join us!”

“Nice!”

Later that evening, I find myself back upstairs in my room. After dinner, Shining decided he wanted to sleep over. He’s lying on a mattress pulled up beside my bed. We spent a while talking and making plans for the coming days; what books we are going to get, what kinds of spells we should practice before term starts and which clubs we should join at school.

The excitement of the day puts Shining to sleep quick enough though. I also feel my eyelids getting heavy. The last thought that crosses my mind before I fall asleep is the marble statue.

Discord.

*************************************************

Hoofnotes:

The first part, seuthe, is a portmanteau of seuthen—meaning “a soft truth”—and uthé—meaning “lute.” The second part kuerdo has a double meaning; it can mean “a string player,” but also has a homonym that means “heartstring.” So all together a literal translation might be, “a lute player who soothes hearts.”
The four professor’s names are Professor Gaslight Glamour, Professor Hexa Lulamoon, Professor Butter Scones and Professor Fullproof.

Chapter 4: New Lessons, New Friends

The castle is dark and quiet. A lonely hallway steers me to some unknown destination, my hooves following without my guidance. Echoes of my footfalls reverberate up and down the corridor, accentuating the otherwise stark silence.

As I travel, the impossibility of the castle’s layout puzzles my sense of direction. Where I should’ve gone in a circle and met a dead end, the corridors hurdle and sidestep one another, weaving into a twisted knot. Every new corner turns to reveal the same indistinct hallway as before. There’s no natural light, no windows to help reckon the passage of time. Torches mounted along the walls illuminate my path, but their distance from one another leave gaps of darkness. I hurry between the stepstones of light; a frog leaping between lily pads. They hold no warmth, only a cold white glow. Before long, my legs grow tired and the lights ahead dance in my vision. Chill sweat dampens my fur.

The corridors draw me deeper and deeper. Eventually, they lead me to a large, open chamber where great stained glass windows line the walls. The ceiling is high and vaulted. Moonlight pours in from a round portal up above acting as a spotlight and drawing my attention to a throne at the far side of the room. Dust motes hang suspended in the air overhead, emphasizing its vacancy.

Cautiously, I approach the throne. On its seat lies a crown enameled in a dark blue glaze like the night sky—a sky bereft of stars. My ears perk up at a strange noise emanating from where the crown rests. It’s high pitched; just on the edge of hearing. The noise draws me closer. I reach for the crown, but something tells me to let it be. An echo of a whisper. The message is clear though: this is not mine to take.

I turn away from it. A small door behind the throne catches my eye and I head for it. On the other side of the door, a short passageway leads outside to a cloister surrounding a large courtyard. Tall, thick hedges run the length of the courtyard and form the walls of a pathway leading me further in. A vision of a lab mouse running through a maze enters my mind. Some invisible hand is leading me, but to where I can’t say.

Along the path, flowers and trees of all shapes and colors are planted around marble benches and fountains. Bronze and marble statuettes of Unicorns, Pegasi and Earth ponies set in various poses are interspersed throughout the gardens. Some stand beneath carved archways and under shadowed green arbors. Some perch atop flowing fountains and others wait alone in small clearings, silent nymphs cavorting and frolicking through the still courtyard. Maybe in the daylight they’d feel friendly and welcoming, but in the gloom of night their joyous faces frozen in metal and stone give me an eerie vibe. I try not to look at them too hard as I continue down the pathway. It feels like they’re watching me.

Before long I sense my footsteps coming slower and slower. I’m close to my destination. That same strange noise from earlier catches my ear once more. It’s music—not just the trickling sound of water fountains, but real music. I hear it, distantly at first. It’s a far off choir—haunting voices singing long held chords. The voices crescendo, rising in pitch and fervor, and ascend, endlessly, into unearthly keening. The dissonance cuts like a blade drawn on glass causing my hackles to rise. It’s worse than screams, worse than dying things. It’s far more perverse and ugly. I close my eyes in anguish.

Make it stop. Please. I’m here. I’ve come, so please!

The choir cuts off abruptly. My ears still ring with its memory. Goosebumps riddle my forelimbs and my heavy breaths are the only thing to disturb the sudden silence. I wait a moment until the ringing subsides before opening my eyes.

I’m standing before a statue. The green grass grows bare around the column at its base, killed off by some unnatural energy. A marble creature stretches up above me. Its mismatched limbs and wide open mouth give it a grotesque appearance. I feel something crawling beneath my flesh, coiling around my muscles and sinew. It gnaws with sharp frozen teeth at my bones searching for the marrow within.

This is why I’m here. He’s calling me.

******

Yawning, I place a book on the shelf.

“Tired, myné kulte?”

“I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. Strange dream.”

“Ah, but the strangest of dreams hold the strongest of truths. My dear old mother told me something of the like when I was your age.”

“I’m fine with normal dreams. Maybe we should stick to books for the truth?”

“Or life. Never underestimate the power of a life lesson. I have had my share and you will too, in time.”

If you only knew. I place another book onto the shelf next to the last. Looking down, I see the basket at my feet is empty.

“Mr. Wiss, I’m done with this stack. Do you have any more you need sorted? I can sweep the floor while I’m here, too.”

“You have done plenty already, Lode. No need to trouble yourself.”

“Mom wouldn’t let me hear the end of it if I didn’t. I’ll go grab the broom.”

“Hmm, yes, well I suppose… Only the front room though. That’s all that’s needed. I’ll manage the rest on my own.”

Getting Book Smart to accept even a little bit of help is like pulling teeth. It’s best to just do it before he thinks about it too much. The stallion seems to have a bit of a complex, possibly from his lack of a horn and magic. On some level I can understand. I remember feeling uncomfortable asking for help back when I first started at my old company.

Growing up, my parents—my dad in particular—thought that showing vulnerability made you a burden to others and that was something a man should never do. I guess I inherited that line of thought. I don’t blame my father so much as the generational zeitgeist that forced those opinions into his head. Looking back now, the absurdity of that philosophy makes me cringe inwardly. Everyone needs help. Maybe if I’d been willing to open up and show my flaws I could’ve connected with people more?

I start sweeping the floor of the shop as Book Smart counts the bits in the register from today's sales. Instead of counting with magic as I’ve seen other Unicorns do, he empties them out into a small tray and sorts through the coins using an abacus-like device to keep track of the count. He really can’t do magic, huh?

“Mr. Wiss, can I ask you a question? I guess it’s a personal question…”

“Curiosity is a virtue, Lode. One that should be handled with care, but a virtue nonetheless. Especially for the young and open-minded. Ask away, myné kulte.”

“Erm, about your horn…”

“Ah yes, yes. I thought that might be it.”

“I’m sorry, nevermind. You don’t need to answer.”

“But I want to. My horn, or rather my lack of one, happened when I was a little older than you. I wanted to be a court mage, you see. So I applied for Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, same as you.”

“What happened? Did you pass the exam?”

“I never got the chance to take it. There was a filly I knew back then. We grew up in the same district, but I was of a lower class than her. But still, I thought we were friends. She saw it differently though…

My parents were enda-razar;1 myfather, a Unicorn and my mother, an Earth Pony. I am sure you have witnessed how some ponies treat your parents?”

I nod, sullenly. Remembering the slights and thinly veiled insults received by both Mom and Dad weighs down on my mood. It feels wrong that such cute and friendly beings as these ponies can still harbor contempt and hatred for others be it out of ignorance or fear or some combination of the two as is usually the case.

Book Smart offers his own sad smile in commiseration.

“Times have not changed much from when I was young, unfortunately. While ponies normally do not voice their… opinions as loudly as they once did, it is still a pity that you and your family are subject to these things.”

“It’s fine. Well, no, I guess it really isn’t, but I’m getting used to it.”

“It is a shame that you should even need to.”

“Yeah… but what about that filly? She thought that way too?”

“Certainly her parents did. And it tends to be the case that the child inherits their parent’s opinions. Before long we grew apart. Though I thought we might reconnect once I joined the school. She was as much a fan of magic as myself and was planning to enter the same year as I.

I remember it well even now. The exam was on a Skeideg afternoon. I went alone. I told my parents I would be fine on my own, and told myself I did not want them to face all those hateful eyes. They would be spared any more embarrassment should I fail. Truthfully, I was the one embarrassed. I wanted nothing to do with the scorn and tasteless remarks of those pfeur-eseri.2 By distancing myself from my parents I hoped to be accepted by those Unicorns.”

A bitter laugh escapes the old shopkeeper. He absentmindedly cleans his spectacles on his gray coat.

“I should have known I would never be accepted. Not by trying to hide who I am and where I come from. If acceptance hinges on that, then you are better off never being accepted—not by that sort. Better to remain true to yourself and those you love. But it was pride, Lode. I was far too proud to be thought of as less than by any pony.”

“Pride is the source of shame, Mr. Wiss.”

Book Smart blinks and gives me an appraising stare. He seems to look at me in a new light.

“Indeed. You hold much wisdom for one so young.”

“Umm… just something I read once… So what happened that day? You went alone to the exam.”

“Sé, I was alone. But I was prepared. The whole month prior, I studied all the spells I could find and grew proficient in as many as I could.

I reached the school gates and saw her; Botero. She was with some older students and all of them were blocking the front doors. I asked them to let me pass. My exam was to start soon.

They laughed. Why should they let a mele-brun3 like me into their prestigious school? They told me not to step above my class. Half-breeds don’t deserve the same status as pure Unicorns. If I wanted an education they meant to teach me a lesson I’d never forget…”

Sighing, Book Smart looks out the front window of the shop. A Unicorn family with two young fillies trots by. The foals laugh and run between their parents' legs. Their laughter is muffled by the thick glass of the window—-a barrier locking the joys of the world outside.

I hold the silence. Whatever Book Smart went through is clearly a difficult memory for him to relive. He needs a moment to gather his thoughts.

“Did you know, Lode? There is a spell to disperse another’s magic; essparen. It forcibly releases any magical potential within a certain radius.”

“One of the textbooks I got for school talks about it. It says it’s useful for dueling since you can catch your opponent off guard by releasing their magic before they’ve properly formed it into a spell. I’ve never tried it though.”

“Yes. That is for the best, I think. Thankfully, dueling is not as prevalent now as it was in my day. That day was my first and last magic bout.”

“Wait. Are you saying those ponies, the older students, challenged you to a duel?”

“For my right to enter and take the exam. Yes, and I accepted, foolishly.

Of course, I was no match for trained Unicorns. But I thought if I dueled and impressed them, they would accept me. Plus, I meant to show Botero how strong my magic was. Maybe we could be friends again?

But it was not a fair duel; six versus one. They said I needed to defeat all of them, all at once, to be worthy enough to enter. There was never any intention of letting me pass those gates.”

“Six of them?! Why did you accept that? Why not run away? No one can take on six opponents at once.”

“Indeed. Yet, I still tried. Such was the strength of my pride. I would not back down no matter what the odds.

At first, they came at me one at a time. I practiced shildaren, the barrier charm, for many weeks. It was one of my best spells and it blocked all of the hexes they shot at me. That is, when they fired separately.

They grew frustrated before long. Three of them powered up stinging hexes at once. My barrier could not withstand that volley and it shattered around me. But while they busied themselves with destroying my shield, I gathered my magic to perform friosaren, the freezing spell.”

“That’s an elemental spell, right? I’ve read they require a lot of magic.”

“It took every scrap of arcanum I could muster. I meant to freeze all of them in their tracks. But they broke through my shield too quickly and the spell formation was not complete. I was at my most vulnerable. All six aimed essparen spells at my horn. Perhaps if I was older the damage would not have been so severe, but as a colt with a growing horn, the dispersion proved too great.

My horn ruptured with magic, the blast forcing me to the ground. My memories of that moment are hazy now, but I remember the pain. It seared. Not just the physical pain, though that was plenty. I remember the pain of knowing my magic was ruined; gone forever. I will never forget.”

Book Smart falls silent, still staring out the front window. Whether he’s simply looking at the passersby on the street outside or peering into some far off memory I can’t say. My guess is the latter.

“Botero came to me—I can still remember her face as she looked down on me. At first, filled with concern, but as the others fled and called for her to follow, her eyes turned cold. Like ice. No freezing spell could match that.

She left me there. Alone. The groundskeeper found me some time later and I was taken to a kernavimad, Meder Rosebloom.4 She did what she could, but my horn could not be saved. The core was exposed for too long—my arcanum dispersed too rapidly—making it impossible for me to gather and retain magic. My dreams were cut short that day.

And that… that is what happened to my horn.”

I remain silent, not knowing what to say. What words of comfort can I offer? Everything I think of seems meaningless in the face of what I just heard. My thoughtless curiosity just put Book Smart through a horrible memory. God, I’m an idiot!

There’s dirt on the floor from where I swept it into a pile earlier. I study the dust searching for the right sentiment and shaky words start to pour out of me.

“M-Mr. Wiss, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that happened to you. I-I shouldn’t have asked about it. I made you remember something so terrible.”

There’s something stinging my eyes and a lump forms in my throat that I can’t seem to swallow down. I feel a pat on my mane. Looking up, Book Smart smiles down at me warmly.

“There are plenty of painful and sad things in this world. When one is able to share their experiences it helps lessen that pain. You helped me today, greatly, like a whole bookshelf has been lifted off my withers. Thank you for listening.”

I wipe the tears from my eyes, feeling my cheeks grow hot. What am I blubbering about? Jeez, Book Smart is the one who should be crying.

He walks over to the front door as I gather myself and flips the “open” sign to “closed.”

“It’s getting late, Lode. Your mother will want you home for dinner soon.”

I sweep the last of the floor dust into a pale before setting the broom aside. My little saddlebag hangs from a hook behind the front desk and I grab it as I head for the door. Inside of it are some of the textbooks I need for school. I’m not sure how many hours I’ve spent pouring over their contents, but a lot more spells have embedded themselves into my head since the exam. I made a promise to myself to not be underprepared again.

“I’m off then. Thanks for helping me find the books I need, Mr. Wiss.”

“Anytime, myné kulte.”

He winks as he flips a bit up in the air and catches it with a deft hoof. I grin. So long as I have the bits, huh? Before heading out I pause at the door. My stupid curiosity is getting the better of me again.

“…Did you ever see her again?”

Book Smart empties the tray of coins back into the register and answers without looking up. He doesn’t need to ask who I meant.

“No. No, I’m afraid not.”

“I see… Good evening, Mr. Wiss.”

“Good evening, Lode.”

The next day begins much the same as any other. Except, of course, after breakfast with the family I make my way to school.

Today marks my first day of classes at Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. I meet up with Shining at the front gates. Students, young and old, mill about the stairs leading to the front door.

“What’s wrong, Lode?”

Shining gives me a questioning look as we pass through the front gates. I stare up at them with a frown and then down at the flagstone walkway. An image of a young Unicorn, spread out on the ground, his horn blown away, invades my thoughts. I shake my head free of the vision.

“Nothing.”

“I had this dream last night. Well, I guess it was more of a nightmare, really. We got here and the gate was shut. Then you were able to pass through, but I wasn’t… It was a stupid dream.”

“You got nothing to worry about, Army. You passed the exam before I did. I won’t leave you behind if you don’t leave me behind.”

His white cheeks redden as his mouth forms a chagrined smile.

“Thanks.”

Shining and I enter the front doors and make our way down the main hall searching for the corridor that branches off to the East Wing. A few students pass by, probably heading to their own classes. Some wave friendly hooves and greet us with smiles while others turn up their snouts, too prideful to show any favor toward us freshmen. All of them look older than us. Shining shrinks under most of their gazes. The poor colt hasn’t been out in the real world much, preferring to play with his figures and come up with stories for his campaigns in the safety of his house. I give him a small nudge of encouragement, reminding him that I’m here by his side. He gives me an appreciative smile and seems to perk up a bit.

I can’t say I’ve ever been much of an extrovert, but living as an adult hardened my shell enough that walking through strange places with strange people is only a slight discomfort now. It’s really more intriguing than anything. Watching all the students walking past and trying to think of what their stories might be harkens back to my days of people-watching on a park bench near work during my lunch breaks. I used to sit there quietly—sometimes with my sketchbook—and wonder what everyone’s mornings had been like to bring them to the park that day. It was one of the few respites I’d get from staring at worksheets in the office.

Before long, I spot a sign that reads, Éoser Reuveni. Eastern Rooms. We turn down the hallway and up ahead I see two ponies; one of them I recognize. Shining sees her too and calls out a greeting.

“Honeypot!”

The honey-themed filly looks around and sees him waving. She smiles brightly and trots back to us. The Unicorn who she’d been walking with continues on, only sparing a quick glance over her shoulder for Shining and me.

“Hey, I remember you two. Lodestar and Shining Armor, right? I’m glad you colts passed. Gotta say, I wasn’t expecting to see you again. Not that I’m unhappy I did!”

Shining’s grin falters and his eyes turn to the floor. He shuffles his hooves in a shy manner. It’s funny since he’s usually so animated around me when it’s just the two of us. Seeing as he’s at a loss for words I take up the conversation.

“We’re happy to see you too. Shining and I were just heading to our first lesson. This place is like a maze though and we don’t have a map.”

“Ah, no worries! I can point you in the right direction. What’s the class?”

“Intro to Transfiguration with Professor Glamour. Our schedule says it’s on the lower floors of the East Wing.”

“Oh, you’re nearly there then. There’s a stairwell up on the left here, by the old blood stained carpet (at least ponies say it’s blood, but I think it’s just some apple juice that the old caretaker Snitch spilled), that’ll take you down to the lower floors. Follow that down past the statue of Ser Willow the Weepy—you know, the one with the missing leg—and Professor Glamour’s classroom is the third door on the left by that creaky floor tile that always makes me jump!”

She really speaks a mile a minute and includes a lot more details than necessary, but I think I get the gist of it. Go downstairs. Third door on the left. I can see why she was assigned as the guide during the exams. Seems like the filly knows everything there is to know about the school.

“Thanks. I think we got it.”

I nudge Shining who’s still shuffling his hooves and avoiding eye contact with Honeypot.

“Right?”

“Uh, yeah, thanks… we should get going.”

I raise an eyebrow at Shining. The colt needs to learn to come out of his shell sooner or later. Well, not that I’m one to talk.

“Oh! You should hurry too! The morning bell is about to ring. Don’t be late for Professor Glamour, see ya!”

Honeypot buzzes down the corridor to parts unknown. Sure enough, a bell chimes off in the distance not long after she disappears. Shining’s ears perk up.

“We should hurry.”

He finds the stairs ahead and leaps down them two at a time with me hot on his hooves. Ser Willow’s three-legged statue passes in a bronze blur as we both reach the bottom floor panting.

The lower floors have no windows. Flame-filled sconces line the walls providing some light, but still the hallway remains dim. Shining pauses unsure of where to run to next. I guess he wasn’t listening that closely to Honeypot earlier.

“Come on. Third door on the left.”

I trot down the hallway and he follows after this time. There are no helpful labels on the doors we pass, but luckily my previous job as an accountant has left me with the ability to count to three. Amazing, right?

I reach the designated door and Shining draws level with me. The last echoes of the morning bell fade away in the distance.

“Well, this is us.”

“Yeah.”

We enter the room and confusion wells up inside me. It looks more like a storage room than a classroom. Shelves filled with glass bottles containing all sorts of solutions and powders take up most of the space. Cauldrons, vials, beakers and other alchemical equipment sit dusty along the far wall. A few beeswax candles are all that lights the room. Besides that, it’s empty. Shining and I are the only ones here.

“Uh, Lode, I don’t think this is right.”

I can just make out a worried expression on Shining’s face in the dim lighting.

“Yeah… looks like a storeroom for potion supplies.”

I counted right, didn’t I? Third door. Please, Faust, tell me I’m at least competent enough to count to three!

It’s possible that I just misheard Honeypot, though. My Equish is more or less fluent at this point, but I still translate things wrong from time to time. Especially when it’s from a pony speaking as fast as her. I doubt it’s a case of her giving the wrong directions considering she could probably walk the school blindfolded and still point out a coffee stain on some tapestry no one else would ever notice. Ah well, guess we’ll try the door across the hall.

We turn around to leave the room and are met with the cold glare of an older Unicorn mare. I recognize her; Professor Scones, the snooty judge from my exam. She looks Shining and me over, though her glare seems more focused on me than him.

“May I ask what the two of you think you’re doing?”

I feel Shining shift himself behind me, his nervous shivers vibrating against my fur. Great, guess I’m the one who’s doing all the talking again. Though, to be fair, I am technically the adult between the two of us.

“We’re trying to get to Professor Glamour’s class, Professor.”

“Professor Glamour’s class is on the opposite side of the hall, two doors up.”

“I see…”

I’m sorry. Did I say I was fluent in Equish? Yeah, that was bullshit. Turns out I can’t even follow simple directions.

“First period lessons have already started and you decide to sneak into my potion stores? Many students think they can swipe a few of my ingredients for their own use when I’m not looking. Tell me, colt, does this apply to you? First day of class and already looking to steal from your betters?”

“That’s not it, Professor. We’re just a little turned around.”

Miss Snooty is taking things way out of proportion. Who sees two young colts, clearly just lost, and immediately thinks foul play? Out of the corner of my eye, I see Shining shake his head.

“It’s true, Professor. We’re just trying to get to class…”

The professor’s cold glare softens as she looks past me to Shining.

“I remember you. Gelaré Armo, I believe it was? Son of Night Light and Twilight Velvet. Yes, you come from a good stock and it showed in your exam.”

“I-I guess?”

A good stock? Just how much of a eugenics freak is this mare? Shining clearly has some qualms about her wording as well, a mixture of bewilderment and trepidation dancing across his face. When he glances at me it’s almost apologetic. This is probably the first time he’s been in such a situation.

“Lodestar made a much cooler statue than me from what I heard.”

The smile on Miss Snooty’s face sours to a grimace. Her eyes turn icy as they drift back over to me.

“Yes, in terms of shock value it was quite the display. Some ponies sometimes make up for their shortcomings using those sorts of simple theatrics.”

Simple theatrics? Ha! I’m sure she didn’t think of it that way when she was staring slack jawed at my statue back in the exam. I bite my tongue, holding back the growing urge to give a big piece of my mind.

“You still passed me.”

“And I already regret it. I am giving you a demerit, Mr. Leitherster, for stepping out of bounds and conspiring to steal from my supplies. Don’t let me catch you here again or it will be detention. Hopefully expulsion if I have a word with the headmistress.”

“…Yes, Professor.”

I grit my teeth into some semblance of a smile as she shoos us back out into the hallway. The storeroom door slams behind our flanks with a resounding thud. For a moment, I try thinking of a spell that would trap her snooty face in there forever, but decide against it. We still need to get to class after all.

“I’m sorry, Lode. You got a demerit…”

“It’s nothing, Army. Thanks for having my back.”

“More like hiding behind your back… I left you hanging there. You’re so brave. Standing up to her and talking to all these ponies like it’s nothing. I don’t know how you do it.”

Well, I have like fifteen years of office life and dealing with angry managers from hell to fall back on, kid. You’ll get there too, eventually, unfortunately. Of course, I don’t tell him that. I just smile, a genuine one this time, and give him a little nudge.

“Come on. Let’s get to class.”

We head further down the hall to the correct door this time and I give a little knock before entering.

“Come.”

Despite only hearing a single word, I immediately recognize that drawling accent from my exam.

Professor Glamour stands behind a wooden desk at the head of a small lecture hall. With the low lighting and his dark fur, he blends easily into the large blackboard behind him. Except his eyes—bright orange like two glowing gas lamps—which examine Shining and me, scrutinizing us latecomers.

“You are…?”

“I’m Lodestar and this is Shining Armor, Professor. I apologize for being tardy. We got a little lost on our way here.”

“As is to be expected, of course.”

I raise a questioning eyebrow at him, unsure of his meaning. It’s then that I notice how empty the classroom is. Besides Shining, Professor Glamour and me, there are only four other ponies here; three fillies and one colt.

Since the entrance exams are so intense, I sort of figured there wouldn’t be many students in each class—particularly introductory classes, but I thought there’d be more than this.

Professor Glamour picks up on my confusion.

“Yes, there aren’t many of you this year. Perhaps my little test was a bit too difficult for you newcomers?”

“T-test, Professor?”

Shining’s voice is a little unsteady, but it’s good that he’s joining the conversation on his own this time. He looks between the professor and me as if I have any better idea of what he means,

“Yes, the conceal spell, kulte. I cast it on the doors? Well done on seeing through it, though next time I expect you to be on time regardless. I was about to lock the door before you two solved it. You made it by the skin of your teeth, it seems.”

“Conceal spell… but we didn’t—“

“Yes, Professor, we understand.”

I shush Shining before he can say anymore as a realization of what is happening strikes me. The reason the doors outside have no labels and look identical to each other is due to kelaren, the concealment spell. The Professor must’ve cast it sometime before the students started arriving this morning in order to test our ability to detect magic and release active spells. Of course, that’s not how we got here, but he doesn’t need to know that. Sometimes it’s better to hold your silence—makes it seem like you know more than you really do. But I wonder why all the smoke-and-mirrors is necessary?

“Hmm, good. To your seats then.”

At a somewhat dismissive wave of the Professor’s hoof, Shining and I find our spots. An aisle running the length of the classroom separates two columns of desks, each three rows deep. The desks themselves are wide enough to seat three ponies comfortably so all together there’s enough room for eighteen students. Only the first row is needed though at the moment.

I sit down next to one of the fillies on the far side of the room and Shining takes the end seat next to me. The two other fillies and the colt sit opposite the aisle from us three.

The filly next to me looks familiar. Maybe I saw her at the exam the other day? Thinking about it some more, I realize that it was actually much more recent. Just a few minutes ago, in fact. She’s the one Honeypot was walking with upstairs. I guess she made it down here while we were busy getting directions.

By my estimate, she must be at least a year or two older than me (my pony self, that is). Her mane is purple and poofy with a turquoise ribbon tied off just behind her horn in a neat bow. Strawberry milk comes to mind when I notice the color of her fur; a pleasant light pink. Amethyst irises—similar to Papa Soothplayer’s eyes—glance sideways at me in a friendly manner.

“Heiyo. My name’s Sugar Belle. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Lodestar and this is Shining Armor next to me.”

“You sure cut it close there. Looks like the professor is locking the door now. It’s a shame for any pony who didn’t make it in time.”

“Yeah…”

I don’t want to think about what would’ve happened if we got stuck outside. An image of Miss Snooty handing me twenty demerits and telling me I’m expelled comes to mind, but there are times when you just have to count yourself as lucky and move on. A soft click sounds as Professor Glamour locks the door with his orange magic.

“Best not to delay any further. Now I see six of you managed to pass my first test. Six out of sixteen. Unfortunately for the rest, if you do not make it to my first lesson you will not be taking my class at all. All of them will receive failing marks for this term.”

An oppressive air fills the room at the professor’s proclamation. He’s failing over half the class on the first day?! Talk about harsh. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Shining staring wide-eyed at the professor like a deer caught in the headlights. A gasp escapes Sugar Belle next to me and I hear some shocked murmurs coming from the others.

“You may be wondering why I set up this little test in the first place. You all of course passed the entrance exams, some of you with flying colors, some of you in more unorthodox ways than others.”

His orange gaze pauses on me at that last part before scanning over the rest of the class. He reminds me of an owl surveying an open field at night, waiting for the mice in the underbrush to make a move. The class remains starkly silent as he continues.

“While the school may accept you all as students based on the exams, I need a little more convincing. Only those I deem worthy may enter into their studies of transfiguration; the most intricate and elegant of arts. So I needed to cull the flock, so to speak. Congratulations. You all have conquered that first step. Pray you do not disappoint me.

Now I will take a moment to learn your names and faces. Raise a hoof when I call on you… better yet, light your horn for me instead. Show me your auras.”

A teal glow surrounds my horn as the professor calls on me first. Once again, he studies my face. The intensity of his gaze makes me want to look away, but I hold eye contact with him. I’m not sure why exactly, but it feels like looking away first would be losing somehow.

Off to my side I hear one of the fillies whisper to another how young I am. I suppose that’s true from their perspective, though like Sugar Belle beside me, they only appear to have a few years on Shining and me at most.

“I wonder if you’ll have any more surprises to show me, Mr. Leitherster.”

“I’ll do my best, Professor.”

What I’ll do my best at exactly, I’m not sure. Clearly, he has some expectations for me, but if I can make it through the term without failing that’ll be a win enough for me.

Melosoidé-Kweber, one of the fillies across the aisle, is the next to be called. Golden light emanates from her horn in response. Her coat is a similar creamy color to mine with a touch more yellow in it. A gradient of light blue straight cut bangs frames her face while the back of mane is cut short around her ears. She wears a bright smile and her golden eyes beam around at the class.

“Nice to meet you all! Most ponies just call me Mel. I hope we can all be friends.”

Professor Glamour actually smiles at her. It’s a bit uncanny, but when he speaks his tone sounds genuine.

“Friends are important for everyone. I hope you all will grow closer and help one another in your journeys. I find that a healthy rivalry and comradery is necessary for students to reach their full potential.”

I blink. Jeez, he almost sounds reasonable now. Maybe he’s just one of those people who is strict when you first meet, but will lighten up once you get to know him? One can only hope.

Mel nods her head in agreement at the professor’s words. Her smile is pretty infectious and the mood in the room improves as everyone seems to let out a breath we didn’t know we were holding.

After a moment of quiet consideration, I decide Melody Quaver is a decent translation of her name. It preserves the “Mel” part anyway. I wonder if she’s into music?

After Melody comes Margenkapf. This filly actually has an akuudé-krisos—a cutie mark. On her flank is a picture of a rainbow-themed coffee mug (not that I’m staring at her flank or anything, I just happen to notice is all, ahem). From this, I settle on Morning Roast as a suitable equivalent for her name.

Margen has a long, thick mane somewhat messily pulled back into a loose bun. Stripes of darker magenta and pink accentuate her pale red locks. A purple aura, matching her eye color, surrounds her beige horn when the professor reads off her name.

“Hylé, efre-poni. We’ll be studying a lot and probably have some all-nighters so if you ever need a pick-me-up come see me.”

From out of her saddlebag, she pulls out several small packets of ground coffee.

“I’ve got Dodge Junction Blend, Prench Vanilla, Everfree Whole Bean and even Somnambula Dark Roast.”

The colt next to her perks up on seeing the last packet.

“You have the good taste.”

“Heheh, thanks.”

Furry, caterpillar-esque eyebrows curve up in slight embarrassment on Margen’s face. She notices the professor staring at her though, his expression inscrutable, and quietly puts away her coffee beans.

“Feel free to have some too, Professor…”

“…I may, though I prefer tea.”

“Oh.”

Personally, I love coffee. There are worse addictions to have. I can’t count how many long work hours it got me through back in my accounting days. The little artisan shop by my office knew my order by heart; French vanilla twist with an espresso shot. Sorry, Army, but Morning Roast might end up being my new best friend. Or my dealer. However you want to see it.

The professor calls out “Gelaré Armo” next and Shining lights up his horn in a pink glow. For whatever reason, Shining bucks the trend of magic aura matching the Unicorn’s eye color. The books I’ve read on the subject don’t have any clear explanation as to what determines a pony’s aura other than to say it “generally matches the hue of the iris, but sometimes may not.” How insightful…

“H-heiyo. It’s good to meet you all. I like Paladins—“

Shining stops short, a sheepish smile and blush appearing on his face. The professor raises an eyebrow while the rest of the class gives him a bewildering look. Yeah, best not to reveal your power level right away there, champ. Take it from a fellow nerd.

“Ahem. Yes, I see. I suppose they are quite honorable figures.”

Professor Glamour’s words only deepen Shining’s blush. Poor colt. With a wink and nudge of encouragement from me, he seems to regain himself a little though.

After Shining comes Sugar Bell—Shukarbellé. The Equish is similar to English in this case so it’s easy enough to translate. Instead of an accountant, maybe I should’ve been a translator in my previous life? Seems I have a knack for it anyway.

I hear the soft, sleighbell-like jingle of magical energy next to me when she lights up her horn. Her aura does match her eyes; a light amethyst. She also has a cutie mark like Morning Roast. It’s an image of a cupcake topped with purple frosting and a cherry. Coffee and cupcakes. Am I the only one craving a snack now?

“Hi, everypony! Sounds like it’ll be a tough year with a lot of work for us. If you ever need a study buddy, I’m your mare.”

“Study well, Ms. Belle. I hope you show results as good as your exam. The torus you sculpted was quite impressive.”

She turns to me and giggles under her breath.

“It was supposed to be a doughnut.”

I smile back.

“Close enough.”

There’s only the colt left now. His horn glows green when the professor calls on him. Yah Xhemut ebn Ahten. The name sounds odd even by pony standards. It’s impressive the professor manages to roll it off his tongue as well as he does. Likely it isn’t Equish at all, but some other language I don’t know.

“Merh’laan. It is good that we should meet. The saying my name may be difficult, so please, freely call me Lundeus, if you would.”

Lundeus, huh? Moondust. Yeah, I think I’ll stick with that. There are only so many languages I’m willing to butcher in one lifetime, thanks.

The name suits him though. With a gray coat spotted with white flecks, he, like Professor Glamour, blends in well with the dim lighting of the classroom. Though while the professor is a chasm hiding two gas lamps, Lundeus appears more like an ethereal moon shadow. His emerald green eyes have thick black outlines as if he’s using eyeliner, but it’s probably just the natural pattern of his fur. Candlelight reflects off his shiny black mane making me think he must use some good conditioner.

“Lundeus will do then. Let me know if I need to repeat anything for you during the lesson.”

Moondust nods with an appreciative smile at the professor.

“And I am Professor Gaslight Glamour as well you all should know by this point. I’ve taught at this school for twelve years and have never let a student pass that fails to impress me. Studying, making friends. These things are important, but each of you should strive beyond that. To uphold the legacy of this school is to become the best of the best. Now…”

Professor Glamour levitates a piece of chalk up to the blackboard and begins writing out what look to be formulas as he addresses the class.

“With introductions out of the way, let us begin our first lesson. Open your textbooks to page three hundred and ninety-four and copy down the following formulae.”

Straight to business with this one. I take out my copy of The Art of Transfiguration: An Introduction to Basic Formulations and Spells and open it to the designated page number. Shining and the rest follow suit and before long the classroom is filled with the sound of scratching quills on parchment. It’s hilarious that an over four hundred page long beast of a book like this can be considered “an introduction.” I find that a lot of authors, especially Unicorns, can be long-winded to a fault when it comes to the subject of magic, but I’ll just take it as a sign of how much I have to learn.

The back of the book is an appendix full of different transformation spells. Professor Glamour has us copy out a few and explains the proper ideation to enact each spell. After about an hour of lecturing, the class is asked to practice a simple variant of the concealment spell on some knucklebones laid out on our desks.

“Use kelaren tekso to make me some dice, would you?”

Bones are a bit of a macabre choice. My knowledge of history makes me wonder if these are made from equine bones as they are on Earth. I’m probably just reading too much into it though. Nobody else seems to care so I guess it’s fine, but sometimes it just skeeves me out knowing there’s a spooky scary skeleton inside all of us.

Next to me, Shining smiles as his horn starts gathering arcanum. Looks like someone’s eager to play with new dice. Shining, you know this isn’t a campaign session? You know that, right?

Staring down at my own set of bones, I take a moment to fully envision the proper formulation. Spell subset: transfiguration. Base material: ostené. Function: concealment. Subset: kelaren tekso. Product: dadoré. Seems simple enough and it doesn’t require much magical input. A tip from the professor is to imagine your magic is like a cloth you’re draping over the material.

Gently, I channel my teal aura over the bones all the while envisioning the final result. The bones blur momentarily as if a mist passes over them and they resolve back into focus as a pair of six-sided dice. Picking up one of the dice, I can still feel the rough, bumpy surface of the bone hidden inside, but to the naked eye it’s a perfect illusion. Professor Glamour stands before my desk to examine my work.

“Well done, Mr. Leitherster. You made the dots blue?”

“Just a little something I thought of while channeling, Professor.”

To my side, I see a flash of aura. Shining’s knucklebones blur and settle into focus as mine did, but his choice of illusion is slightly different. His dice are clear like glass with a blue tint. One of them is six-sided and the other has ten faces.

“Nice one, Army!”

I can’t help but be impressed. Looks like the professor agrees with me because a small smile appears on his face as he examines the ten-sided die.

“Good visualization, Mr. Armor. Did you base your ideation on a real model perhaps?”

“Something like that.”

Shining hides a smile as I shoot him a knowing wink. The dice are a match for his set at home. A real model indeed.

“Wow, those are pretty! Way better than mine.”

Sugar Belle leans over to get a better view of Shining’s dice. In doing so, I catch a whiff of her mane. It smells sweet like cake frosting. After a moment, she notices how she’s almost on top of me, blushes and quickly sits back in her seat. If I didn’t know any better the look she gives me…

“Shining, roll a charisma check for me.”

“These aren’t real dice, you know. It's just an illusion.”

“Just do it.”

Shining rolls the die.

“Natural one…”

“…”

Dammit. I’m a reincarnated human in the body of a magical Unicorn. Does that not count for anything!?

While she’s busy collecting herself, I peer over at Sugar’s dice and see they are very similar to mine. She opts for purple dots on hers though. Across the aisle, the others receive their inspections from the professor.

Margen has a pair of pink fuzzy dice connected by a short string in front of her. They remind me of her eyebrows. Next to hers, Melody’s pair appears rather plain, but looking closer I see the dots on the faces are actually little music notes.

Lundeus has the strangest of all of us. Instead of dice, they look more like wooden spinning tops. On each of their four sides are small pictographs; a snake, a horseshoe, a set of scales and an eye. I’m not sure what it means, but it does remind me of Hanukkah. Oh dreidel, dreidel, dreidel~

Professor Glamour nods in approval at each one in turn, offering criticism and compliments where he deems necessary. Overall, the class gives a good showing for our first lesson and he seems pleased enough. Of course, that doesn’t stop him from assigning homework to practice the spell on other household objects and record the outcomes in our notebooks.

We’re also expected to read chapters one through four of our textbook in preparation for the next lecture. That’s fine by me. I’ve already read up to chapter ten like the little overachiever I am.

Off in the distance, the school bell chimes signaling the end of class. All together, the lesson lasted about an hour and a half. I grab my book and return it to my saddlebag as the rest of the class gathers up their own belongings. Making sure to wait for Shining before heading out, I notice him sweep his knucklebone dice into his bag when the professor’s back is turned. He must be pretty proud of them, but I hope he doesn’t become a kleptomaniac while I’m not paying attention. How would I explain that to Ms. Velvet?

“That went pretty well. At least we didn’t fail the first lesson. Stinks for the ones who didn’t make it though. What do you think, Army?”

“Yeah, it’s sad. But the others in class seem nice. And Professor Glamour wasn’t too scary once the lesson got going.”

It’s true that he wasn’t that bad. Honestly, just going off his teaching ability, he’s great. I’m not a fan of how dismissive he was of Dad during the exams, but at least he wasn’t as outwardly hostile as Professor Snooty. I do have the feeling that he was watching me a lot more than the others during class though. His gaslit gaze is hard to shake.

Together, Shining and I head to our next class; Introductory Charms with Professor Fullproof. Thankfully, there isn’t any hidden test for his class and we make it there in plenty of time with help from Sugar Belle who gave us a spare map she had.

“Thanks, Sugar Belle. Can I ask where you got this? The receptionist out front pretty much ignored us.”

“Oh, an upperclassmare gave it to me. Her name’s Kahoni-Vas. She’s very nice, maybe a little scatterbrained. She gave me two in case I lose one. Kind of silly, but it’s thanks to her that I made it to class on time. It was a little tricky seeing through the Professor’s illusion, but luckily his spell doesn’t affect the map.”

Kahoni-Vas. She means Honeypot, huh? I guess she gave Sugar her last maps. Or maybe she just forgot about it in the heat of the moment when she gave us directions earlier. That pony gives me the impression that she’s got a whole hive of thoughts and ideas buzzing around her head all at once. Well, whatever, we get a map in the end anyway.

When the three of us get to the classroom, the other three freshman ponies meet up with us. None of the other ten students turn up though. He really did fail all of them…

Professor Fullproof opens the door when the class bell fades away and greets us one at a time as we enter. I like him and his jolly uncle mannerisms. The textbook for the class
—Beginner Charms and Enchantments—is actually authored by the good professor. Having read through a bit of the book already, I can testify that his joviality comes through in the written word too.

Once the class is settled, the professor uses most of the time for introductions, going over the course syllabus and laying out his expectations for the term. Typical first day matters. The whole atmosphere is brighter than the previous class, both figuratively and literally; the charms room is on the third floor with plenty of natural light. Throughout the lesson, Professor Fullproof breaks the ice with a few well-timed bad jokes and gives nicknames to each of us. He calls me Maremano.5 Apparently, my sculpture for the exam made quite the impression on him. In the end, he does assign us some reading homework, but it’s only the first chapter of the textbook. On our way out, he gives us each a piece of candy from a jar he has on his desk. It makes me wonder if he does that for all of his students on the first day or if it’s just because we’re little first years. I’ll take it either way.

After Charms we all head back down to the ground floor for Equestrian History I with Professor Milquetoast who stammers and stutters his way through our lesson plan without much incident. Moondust says he finds it hard to understand the meek professor, but Sugar Belle promises to share her notes with him afterwards. Finally, the lunch bell rings and we find a table in the cafeteria big enough to seat all six of us.

Shining goes to stand in the lunch line for his meal while I unpack a lunchbox Mom made for me. Melody eyes my food with envious eyes.

“Ooh, a hay and cheese sandwich! Wanna trade? Dad knows I can’t stand them, but insists on making tomato rolls for me anyway.”

She juts out her chin and puts on a gruff voice.

“Tomatoes are fruit and I know you love fruit. They’re good for a growing young filly. Don’t whinny at me, missy!”

Sugar Belle looks disbelieving at her.

“Tomatoes are fruit? Who decided that?”

“I don’t know, but whoever they are, they need a good slap on the snout. Whaddya say, Lode?”

I shrug and pass my sandwich over to Mel.

“I like tomatoes, fruit or not.”

She tosses me her roll in return, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

“Ugh, colts…”

“I am never eating these fruits before. Are they so awful, truly?”

Moondust studies the rolls curiously. He’s already chewing on his crepe so I doubt he wants to trade for it. Mel puts a hoof on his shoulder.

“Trust me, Lun, you’re better off never knowing.”

“Oh, but you two should try some of this.”

Morning Roast holds up a steaming hot mug of coffee. The aroma wafting out makes my mouth water in anticipation. Mom says I’m still too young to drink coffee so the only tastes I’ve had lately are the rare occasions Dad sneaks me a sip from his morning cup. But oh Margen, you ground bean temptress, you!

“I made enough for everyone so drink up. It’s freshly brewed.”

I happily accept a mug from her, noticing the steaming water flask and coffee bags she has set up in front of her. A question pops into my mind.

“You heated that up with your magic?”

“Sé. It’s a simple fire spell, but it was one of the first things I learned after awakening my magic. It’s really useful for brewing on the go.”

Elemental magic is probably my weakest area at the moment. I haven’t had a chance to read up on it much and generally the spells require excellent arcanum control.

“Maybe you can teach me sometime?”

Margen smiles, her eyebrows climbing up to touch her horn.

“Of course! Like I said, it’s a fairly simple spell.”

“Thanks.”

“Umm ahdehrni, friends, is that not little Armor over there with those mares of the upper class?”

My eyes follow Lundeus’s hoof as he points over to the food line. There, Shining stands in the center of a circle of older students, none of whom look very friendly. The look on his face says he’d rather be anywhere else at the moment.

Without thinking, I’m out of my seat and trotting over to his side. As I get closer, I hear the older students saying something to him.

“What makes you think you can just cut in front of us like that?”

“Didn’t they teach you any manners before you came here?”

“This is why I can’t stand freshmen.”

“Umm… but I was already waiting in line…”

“Tch. Now he’s even talking back to us.”

“What a mouth this foal has.”

“Hey, it’s his first day here. So I say we teach him a lesson or two. Something extracurricular.”

“If there’s someone here who needs to learn a lesson, it’s you guys!”

Seven pairs of eyes turn to face me; the six older students and Army. I push through two of the bullies to stand in the center with him. His worried expression doesn’t disappear entirely, but he seems to find his ground and digs in his hooves next to me. The six upperclassmen size me up with leering stares.

“And who’s this?”

“Another freshman foal by the size of him.”

“Come to protect your friend? Hahaha!”

I scan around the cafeteria. None of the teachers have taken their seats yet and everyone else looks determined to ignore the situation and keep their snouts in their lunch trays. Fine, then. Time to bluff.

“I suggest you all get your lunches and go. Fighting us isn’t in your best interest. We may be young, but there’s a reason they accepted us into the school. We’re strong.”

“You hear that? Not in our best interest. Girls, I think we’re supposed to be scared now. Hahahaha—Hey! Don’t go shining your horn at us!”

Teal aura surrounds my horn as I draw in more and more magic. I glance at Shining. After a moment he takes the hint and starts drawing in magic as well. If we show how powerful we are they might think a fight’s not worth it and back off.

Or not. The six ponies start gathering their own magical potential. Air within the circle becomes turbulent with arcanum, purple locks of my mane and tail float in the wind. Sparks shoot off from my horn and bounce along the floor tiles. It’s incredible holding this much magic. Within my mind, I feel oddly calm. I hope this works, Mr. Wiss. A spell begins taking shape under my influence.

My senses heighten. A vision of six horns firing off six separate hexes floods my head. It’s already happened. No. It will happen. Right… NOW!

As the bullies let loose their spells at point blank range, a barrier forms over Shining and me. The hexes hit the barrier with thunderous force and rebound upon their casters. With no way to dodge, the six older students take the full brunt of their own spells and crumple to the floor with a satisfying thud.

I hold the barrier for a few seconds longer before releasing the spell. Sugar Belle and the others come running over to Shining and me.

“Ohmigosh, ohmigosh! Are you two okay?!”

I let out a panting breath and sweat covers my face. That took a lot out of me it seems.

“Hah. I’m okay. Are you good, Army?”

“Yeah… I’m okay. Thanks for the save.”

Mel pats my shoulder. Her eyes are full of concern despite her smile.

“Nice one, Lode. Can you walk? What was that anyway?”

“Shilderan, the barrier charm. Hah. And yeah, I can walk, I just need to catch my breath. Hah.”

“Catch it quick because we need to get out of here. Like now.”

I shoot a questioning look at Mel. What does she mean? The answer becomes clear once I follow her gaze to the far end of the cafeteria. The teachers finally decided to take their lunch… And leading the group is Professor Snooty.

Oh Faust me…

********************************************************************

Hoofnotes

Enda-razar -definition: interracial, a somewhat outdated term used to refer to mixed couples, usually carries negative connotations - “meler” meaning “mixed” is the more common term used colloquially
Pfeur-eseri - definition: pure blood, can be used in reference to any pony race, though it is most commonly used by Unicorns
Mele-brun - definition: mixed breed, a term meant for dogs and cats, a slur when used in reference to another pony
Kernavimad, doctors specializing in the treatment of magic related injuries. The title meder can be translated as “healer.”
Maremano is the name of the famous Unicorn sculptor and architect who lived during the reign of Discord. Famed for designing the original royal Castle of the Two Sisters

Author's Note

Hopefully the length of this chapter makes up for the long wait!