The Princess Will Save Us
Cheerilee could already hear the turmoil as she approached the school house. Something tells me I picked the wrong day to skip the coffee, she thought, but with a sigh and smile, she shouldered through the door. Inside, she found little more than she’d expected: half the class out of their seats, clustering into their usual groups.
But today their voices sounded different. She caught no snarks of gossip but instead squeals of worry. She could guess at the subject, but clung to the hope that they were beyond such superstitions.
Cheerilee made her way to her podium at the front of the room and gave it a stomp with her hoof. "Alright, foals, settle down and take your seats," she called as sweetly as she could. The clamor slowly died with the scooting of desks. "It's time we all got started. Now, did everypony do their reading of Steinbuck's Of Mice and Mares last night?"
The talking had stopped, but their thoughts surely hadn’t ended. "Miss Cheerilee," asked Snails, raising his hoof, "is Nightmare Moon going to come back?"
Cheerilee cringed. I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this. But putting on her best smile, she said, "Come now, what is this?"
"The Summer Sun Celebration’s next week," Snips backed his friend. "And this is the year she's supposed to come back and take the sun away!"
"No she’s not! That's just an old pony's tale, stupid."
"Diamond Tiara! We don't speak to our classmates that way!"
"It's true, though!" Apple Bloom turned to Tiara. "The Princess banished 'er to the moon. You can ask her yerself. It happened, an' the stories are true."
Cheerilee had to raise her voice to stifle the ensuing squabble. "Now, although it is true the Princess banished away Nightmare Moon a thousand years ago, there is no reason to believe any such legend of—"
"The nightht's gonna latht forevur!" Twist wailed, pulling at her wild curls. "We're never gonna thee the sun agaaaaain!"
And with that, the previous panic was rekindled from its embers. Everywhere shouts were shot, theories thrown, insults issued, and findings freshly founded. Students stood and shuffled, starting a stampede. Fillies were fools and colts uncontrolled. Desks were tipped and toppled, books flung and flew—science was slashed and history hashed.
"Foals, foals, foals!" Cherilee's pounding hoof finally quieted the uproar. When the dust settled, paper sheets and pencils dotted the floor. Shot staples lay strewn about. Torn, crumpled pages cluttered the ground. "There is simply no need for any of this! Snips, Snails," she said, containing her temper, "put those desks back up. Featherweight, straighten that map. Archer, move the mouse's cage away from the snake's before the snake gets any ideas!"
"Those were always like that."
"What do you mean?"
"We had to move the snake because it was scared of the fish, remember?"
"We couldn't put the mouse with the fish instead?"
"No, the fish is friends with the hamster, and the hamster's a bully."
"Alright, alright. Never mind, then." Cheerilee gave a seething sigh, hoof pressed to her forehead. "Doesn't some unicorn know a tidying spell or something? No? Somepony grab a broom, then." She massaged her throbbing temple as order and structure gradually returned to the room. Every year, if it's not one thing, it's another, she sighed to herself. Just remember, it's not about the money.
Once the desks were in neat array and the posters in alignment, Miss Cheerilee again addressed her class. "Take your seats, children," she said, cradling her head with her forelegs perched on the podium. "We will not be going over our usual lessons today."
The class was rendered silent. Their eyes were held steady, their bodies tense and rigid. They were quiet, but far from calm.
"Today's lesson,” Cheerilee continued, “will instead be in common sense." She lowered herself and felt her strength returning. Why can't they pay this much attention during algebra? she sighed, but not without a smile.
"I assure you, Nightmare Moon will not be coming back." She paced the front of the room. "Not next week at the festival, not next year, not tomorrow—never."
The class gave a unanimous gasp. "But how can you be so sure?" asked Snips.
"Yeah, how do you know that?" followed Snails.
"Because, why would she?" This only drew in the children all the more. "Why would she come back next week and not tomorrow? Why didn't she yesterday? If she could come back at all, why would she wait for a thousand years to do so? Why hasn't she done it already?"
Eyes slowly drifted to meet each other, each pair bright with new understanding. Heads then started to nod, and smiles began to show.
It made sense—if it could be done, why wait? Why a thousand years and not five hundred? Why not just one? Why not the same afternoon?
"And, more importantly," Miss Cheerilee continued, "even if she were to come back, she wouldn't be anything to worry about. The Princess banished her to the moon herself, didn't she? If she defeated her once, she can do it again. There is nothing to fear. Don't you see? As long as the Princess is here, we're all completely safe. She'll take care of everything in case of any emergency."
And with that, the tension in the room eased as spirits lifted. Miss Cheerilee gave another sigh and smile, satisfied. Her class was in sweet concordance at last.
"And, speaking of emergencies," she continued, her tone remarkably brighter, "it is Safety Week, isn't it?" All eyes were on her. My, today is just going so well! "Yesterday was the fire drill, so that makes today Earthquake Day! Now, who can tell me what we do when there's an earthquake?"
It was a moment before anypony raised a hoof. "Duck and cover?"
"Yes, yes, Bert, that's it! You just huddle yourself under your desk like... like so, and your desk will protect you if the ceiling falls during an earthquake! Come on, everypony, try it! Duck and cover!" she repeated playfully. "Careful, Dinky, be sure to get all the way under it. Hey, look, Bert's got it! Everypony follow him! Duck and cover!"
Author's Note
Unrelated to my One is Silver story or its world-build.
(Guilty of having to use some filler to get it up to the 1000-word minimum. Those who know my other story might find some irony in that.)
This actually is a testament to a rather dark chapter in American history. If you "get it," you either found the dark undertone humorous or (and?) unsettling.
It sure scared the crap out of me.
