Aguamelon away from home

"You ruined it!"

"I didn’t ruin anything, I was just making it better!"

"That’s not true!"

"Enough!"

Seated at her elegant desk in the late hours of the afternoon, the illustrious Dayan Melody, head of the Golden Half Library, observed sternly the two fillies seated in detention before her.

On one side, a young filly with purple fur and a white mane averted her gaze toward a corner of the room with evident disdain. She adopted the nonchalant air typical of her age, but her gestures betrayed a clear refusal to reconcile with her companion.

Her companion, much younger, stood out with her light yellow coat, now tinged with a reddish hue from anger. Though she mimicked the other filly’s posture, her expression was noticeably more bitter and serious, reflecting the intensity of her emotions.

Dayan Melody sighed, though only inwardly. She knew both girls well, especially the younger one, whom she held in high regard. However, her duty at that moment demanded impartiality.

"Aguamelon, my dear, tell me: why did you throw a book at your classmate?" Dayan asked, her voice calm yet firm.

"I didn’t do that!" Aguamelon retorted, her fiery tone brimming with indignation.

"You did! It hit me on the head, and it still hurts!" corrected the other filly vehemently, touching a hoof to the small bump on her forehead. Her exaggerated movements underscored the pettiness of the injury.

"That’s not what happened! I threw a box of books at you! That’s completely different!"

"You could have killed me!"

"Silence, both of you!" Dayan Melody ordered, her sharp tone echoing through the room. The two fillies immediately quieted down, though their stubborn postures remained.

After a few moments of silence, Dayan rephrased her question.

"Aguamelon, why did you throw a box of books at your classmate?"

"Because she ruined my Hearth’s Warming Eve storybook!" Aguamelon protested without hesitation, her voice thick with fury.

"It’s not your book! It’s mine now..." the other filly began to reply but stopped short under the icy glare of the librarian.

Satisfied she had regained control, Dayan continued in a more measured tone.

"Aguamelon, I understand you participated in today’s anonymous gift exchange, fully aware of the rules. You personally gave this book as a gift to your classmate and told your peers—and me—how excited you were to take part in this activity for the first time. Tell me, is there something you didn’t like? Why are you claiming as yours something you willingly gave away?"

Aguamelon’s face darkened. Her usual melon-colored complexion deepened to a dark orange, reflecting her growing frustration.

"Gifts are meant to be cared for, not ruined! She doesn’t deserve such a great book; she’s a..."

"Aguamelon!" Dayan Melody interrupted firmly, cutting off the hurtful words about to escape. Though her face was stern, she was inwardly surprised; she had never seen Aguamelon lose control like this.

Across the desk, the rebellious young filly shrank in her seat, intimidated by the reprimand. Her delicate face displayed a mix of anger and fear as her ears drooped in nervousness.

A brief but heavy silence filled the room. The distance between teacher and student was palpable, and it pained Dayan deeply. After a tense moment, she turned her attention to the book at the center of the conflict, lying on the desk. She opened it and began leafing through it.

"This is a very old book..." she noted as she examined its contents. "A first edition, very well cared for, that has passed through many hooves and has... recently been altered on its final pages."

She paused, visibly uncomfortable, to point out some unusual pages that had been carelessly inserted into the book. The damage was undeniable.

"She defaced it!" exclaimed Aguamelon indignantly.

"That’s not true. I just added more pages with characters from the stories to make them more fun to read," the other filly replied proudly.

"Adding ugly doodles and stickers counts as adding characters?"

"Greenside isn’t an ugly doodle! He’s a monster with feelings! He has a deep story!"

"A deep story? Where is this story? Are you referring to those babyish dialogues you scribbled in?" Aguamelon retorted sharply, while Dayan Melody raised an eyebrow as she examined the nonsensical heart-shaped dialogues accompanying the book’s altered illustrations.

"They’re not babyish dialogues! They’re an original story... with an original language!" the accused filly tried to defend herself, her face flushing a deep red. "Greenside has a special way of speaking!"

Despite the intensity of her defense, it was clear she was improvising. Seated at her desk, Dayan Melody refrained from interrupting this time, observing her students carefully.

Noticing her teacher’s attention, Aguamelon seemed to gain confidence. A sly smile curved her lips.

"Oh, I see... so it’s an original story in a very special language? Very well. In that case, why don’t you share it with all the other girls at the next group reading session?" she suggested, a shadow of malice darkening her expression.

"You wouldn’t dare!" the accused filly responded, her voice betraying fear for the first time.

"Why not? As the president of the Golden Half Library’s Youth Reading Club, it’s my duty to share 'serious' and 'deep' stories with all the members. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to hear it," Aguamelon said, reclining confidently in her seat, certain the argument was now resolved in her favor.

The blush on the accused filly's face deepened as her eyes desperately sought the one person who could either save or doom her.

"Drawing pictures is also a serious way to tell a story, isn’t it, Miss Melody?" she asked, her voice tinged with both pleading and doubt.

"It’s not in this library, is it, Miss Melody?" Aguamelon pressed firmly, convinced of the response she expected to hear.

But Dayan Melody, having heard enough, surprised both fillies with her answer.

"It is in this library," she stated resolutely.

The accused filly’s eyes sparkled with relief at those words. Meanwhile, Aguamelon’s face froze, as if still processing what she had just heard.

"Encouraging creativity in ponies seeking to learn and express themselves, whether through writing or drawing, is one of the Golden Half Library’s core values," Dayan Melody continued calmly.

"But, but..." stammered Aguamelon, incredulous, trying to regain her footing.

Dayan interrupted her without hesitation:

"We also promote respect among members, including recognizing each other's personal property."

"But the book isn’t..." Aguamelon attempted to protest, but her teacher’s words, now directed squarely at her, struck her like spears.

"Your classmate obtained this book fairly during the gift exchange, an activity with clear rules respected by everyone. From the moment she received it, its care and use became her responsibility. While I may question how she’s managing that responsibility, I see it as a valuable opportunity for her to express her ideas in her own way."

Aguamelon said nothing further, frozen in place as though her world had come crashing down around her.

"Aguamelon, you committed a serious violation by attacking your classmate in the library. As outlined in the rules of conduct, you will face consequences. However, I won’t determine the punishment now; first, we’ll have a meeting with your parents..."

Dayan Melody continued speaking, but her words seemed to fade into the background for Aguamelon. Suddenly, without warning, the young filly stood up from her seat and, in a fit of rage, yelled:

"You’re a stupid teacher!"

Without another word, she bolted for the exit, slamming the door behind her with a bang that left everyone in the room stunned.

The silence that followed was deafening.

After several seconds, still seated, Aguamelon’s classmate broke the tense moment with a snort.

"She has another book just like this one. And more. She has a ton of those books! I don’t get why she’s so upset about this one."

Dayan Melody, now alone with the other filly, kept her gaze fixed on the closed door. The fear that her cherished student might never walk through it again weighed on her like a silent shadow.

She felt a tingling sensation on her face. It wasn’t painful, but rather… refreshing.

Lying flat on her back on the ground, Aguamelon had opened her eyes and was now watching the snow falling over her.

It was snow; she recognized it immediately: the white sky above her, the pale specks drifting through the cold air, the vapor of her breath. All these sensations and clues convinced her mind that she was lying in the yard of her home, under a light snowfall.

"Tomorrow is the group reading meeting… I need to prepare a gift for Miss Melody and my classmates… chocolate cookies will do," she murmured, her gaze fixed on the sky.

The cold snow awakened nostalgic memories within her. Once again, she felt like a young filly enjoying the leisure of a winter afternoon. Just what she needed before diving into a deep night of reading.

At home. Comfortably at home, without any responsibilities. Was there anything better?

Or perhaps… was there anything worse?

Suddenly, Aguamelon’s adult mind stirred. Remembering everything at once, an intense wave of anxiety coursed through her body. Even without being fully aware of herself, she reacted instinctively and scrambled to her hooves, finding herself in an unfamiliar setting.

There was snow—lots of it—covering everything: vegetation, trees, and mountains…

"Haaa…" Aguamelon felt utterly lost. Memories of the mischievous young ponies at the library clashed with the confusion of the scene around her. Her unfocused gaze wandered in several directions until it finally landed on something unusual.

Amid the wild, wintry landscape, a massive red post stood out, its colorful sign pointing toward a nearby destination.

"Happy-Hugs Village?" she read aloud, so bewildered that she barely recognized her own voice.

Aguamelon’s quick mind went to work immediately. That single clue was all she had, but it was enough to prompt an internal search, and with some effort, she managed to reach a rapid conclusion about what might be happening.

After pondering several times to be certain, Aguamelon sighed. She recognized the name of the place and knew exactly where she was.

Or rather, where she wasn’t.

Surrounded by snow under a white sky, Aguamelon was entirely convinced: she was definitely away from home.