I spent most of the afternoon in bed, claiming I needed to rest. I did need rest, but I was still trying to recover from my meeting with Professor Newman. I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling, trying to enjoy the feel of sunshine through the window. That was hard because I was troubled.
Professor Newman treated me like an idiot, and honestly, I felt like one after she pointed out how easily she saw through my forgery and pointed out that my plan would have fallen apart without her intervention. It made me feel small, and I was ashamed to face my friends. Sooner or later, they'd ask me what I was talking about with the professor. What was I going to tell them? I could lie, but lying felt particularly bad at the moment. Telling them the truth revealed me as a liar, at least someone who had tried to lie to the school to attend, and it could turn into people asking if I lied about other things to get admitted. I hadn't, but the suspicion would be there.
I also wondered how much of the faculty knew what I had done. Was this something Professor Newman had kept to herself, or had she told the other professors? Headmaster probably knew, and there seemed to be at least one more mystery person who knew, based on that dragonfire message she had sent. Who could that be? Twilight Sparkle had given Professor Newman the dragonfire. The stories said Twilight Sparkle had sent Princess Celestia messages by Spike's dragonfire, so it could be Princess Celestia—this was her school, after all. It could be to her old employer. She said she had been her old employer's spymaster; maybe she hadn't stopped doing her job and was still sending reports, even if she wasn't sure if her old employer still lived—that showed some serious dedication if it were true. The last possible option I could think of was whoever told her Hannah and I had some additional value.
That was a puzzling new mystery. Why just me and Hannah? Summer, Bright, and Prim had been impacted by the rainboom as well. She hadn't said anything about the pegasus colt that caused the rainboom either. Maybe it was because Hannah and I were both from Earth; that was the only other thing that the two of us shared that the others didn't, but why would that matter? Aside from the crystal ponies, in which the Earthling versions had completely different magic from the Equestrian versions, there wasn't anything really that different between Equestrian and Earthling ponies.
Maybe her source was from Earth, and she didn't know about the others as a result. That was a possibility, but what had either of us ever done on Earth that would have attracted the attention of whoever this source was? My town didn't get that many visitors, and aside from studying what I could about magic, I never really did anything special. There had to be hundreds of unicorn foals in Hannah's hometown that she'd have to stand out from, and she was likely not the only one who had shown any magic skill. There had to have been thousands of Earthling foals who had applied to go to this school. The chance to apply hadn't been a secret. This school had very strong standards; everyone here was smart, even if they spoke more rustically like Bright did or were bullies like Prim, or seemed to be primarily jocks like Rocky and Onyx; they were all very intelligent; otherwise, they wouldn't be here. I hardly stood out in that, nor did Hannah. I doubted we were even among the smartest here. We hadn't even seen the other students in the first-year class beyond the ten of us in our hall. There might be even stronger or more intelligent students among them. No, being smart and gifted didn't work as a reason.
Assuming that it was the case, it was an Earthling source that had informed Professor Newman about us, and that source hadn't known about the others because they weren't on the right planet to notice them, that still left what was so special about all of us. Hannah's initial theory about us being tied to the Elements of Harmony actually felt tempting to take seriously, especially since there were now six foals confirmed. However, there was still one glaring issue wrong with that, Prim. Nothing would make me believe Prim was tied to any Element of Harmony. She was a stuck-up bully who looked down on everyone else. Then there was me. I certainly didn't feel very tied to an Element of Harmony, especially after being called out on my deception. How would someone on Earth even know something like that anyway? It was an attractive theory, but only attractive to our egos. It didn't hold up to scrutiny.
Maybe it was something genetic? There could be something genetic that would make us all react to a rainboom, and it could be just a side effect this mysterious person wasn't aware would happen. That also had problems. How would this person even know that much about my genetics or Hannah's? I hadn't ever actually gone to a hospital, not even to be born. We had a local doctor who made house calls, and while I assumed he was a good doctor, he wasn't anything special. He wouldn't have ever come in contact with Hannah either. He really was strictly local, and the chances of him being part of a secret cabal of mad doctors trying to engineer super ponies were pretty much zero.
There were mysterious powerful ponies like the Queen of Nightmares and her five siblings, whom Princess Luna had granted power. They supposedly knew everything about every pony on Earth, but the stories said that Luna bound them with special magic rules, kinda like genies in the old stories were bound by special magic rules, and one of those rules everyone agreed about being an absolute rule was that they couldn't reveal information that they knew about ponies. If they knew anything special about me or Hannah, they wouldn't be able to tell Professor Newman about it. Even if the stories about them having to keep that information secret weren't true, it still didn't make much sense. Neither Hannah nor I had ever been visited by the Queen of Nightmares or her siblings. Heck, they'd probably not be too thrilled about us leaving Earth if they thought we were that special. They supposedly used powerful ponies to act as their agents since they were bound by so many rules about what they could personally do. They'd want us for themselves, to use as their tools. No, they didn't make sense to be her source.
There was one other possibility. There were these people called Storytellers back on Earth. They knew things that nobody else knew. They were the closest thing to seers that there was. They were called Storytellers because they'd describe events like telling or showing a story, and it could seem like that was all they were doing, telling you a story. What they were really doing was giving you secret knowledge about things that had happened, were currently happening, or could happen. A lot of people claimed to be Storytellers, but they usually were rather quickly caught in their lies. All it took was one false story. The preacher back home said the word for Storyteller used to be a prophet, and false Storytellers should be called false prophets. I figured any true Storyteller probably wouldn't advertise it. They'd never get a break from people trying to learn things from them. I wasn't even sure they really existed or if they were just something people made up, and it caught on as a widespread belief that made zero sense when you thought about it—like the belief that forests around Skytree were filled with zombies or that everyone in that city was a ninja assassin. Plus, if there was an honest-to-goodness real Storyteller who had seen something special about me and Hannah, why would a Storyteller tell Professor Newman about it?
Considering all these options, I wondered if I read too many comic books or not enough—heirs of magic doohickies, experiments by mad scientists, genetic deviants, magic gods’ chosen, and prophesied ponies, I think I had checked off all the big boxes for comic book origins. Oh, I hadn't covered aliens yet! Was there some alien interference I could dream up to fit this situation? No, not at this time, other than the fact I was technically an alien in Equestria, but that applied to every Earthling, not just me and Hannah, and there were some terrifyingly powerful ponies back on Earth that neither of us would ever have a fraction a the power of. Given how many millions of foals were on Earth, there had to be some equally powerful foals out there that put even Summer to shame. Whoever told Professor Newman about us didn't care about those powerful foals.
This was hopeless. I didn't have enough information. I'd love to know what was in those files the professor kept, but I certainly wasn't going to go breaking into Professor Newman's office to find out. She made it clear that I was one wrong step away from being sent home, and I wouldn't risk that. After today, I had serious doubts about my being clever enough to pull something like that off undetected. I'd thought I was good at gathering information and being sneaky, and it was frightening how easily she could see through me. She said I was like her. I wasn't sure I could ever go to the lengths she described when it came to gathering information. Today was a day to make me feel outclassed and small.
There was a knock at my door. Bright wouldn't knock. He would just come in.
“Yes? You can enter,” I called out as I turned over and sat up.
The door opened, and Professor Inkwell entered. She looked around the room and sighed. “Hello, Turnip Jones. I'm just checking in on you. I saw you leaving Professor Newman's office earlier, and you looked rather down. I asked her about it, and she said you are like her, so I came over here.”
I blinked. “I don't understand.”
She walked over to the window and looked out it. “She didn't give me details about what was discussed, but she said you are like her, and I know her well, and I know why she ends up looking dejected like that. You messed up, probably big time, given how you looked. I don't know what you messed up on since she is keeping that confidential, and I don't need to know, but I do need you to snap out of it. Your friends aren't confining themselves to their rooms…aside from Prim Tape, who I will visit next. However, you're my priority at the moment. You need to relax, but you also need to be around others. Socialization is important to pony mental health, especially Earthling ponies. That spell did a number on all of you when it came to that.”
“Being alone for a few hours isn't that bad,” I replied.
She frowned. “If you were an Equestrian, I would agree, but you aren't. Isolation is a form of torture for those of your origin. I have a dear friend from Earth who does that to herself sometimes. She thinks it is her way of paying penance. I say it's utter nonsense. I don't know if you see it that way, but I won't tolerate you doing whatever this is to yourself. I care too much about my students, all my students, to allow that.”
“It isn't that bad. I mean it,” I insisted. “It takes a couple of days for that kind of thing to take a toll. I just needed to process things.”
“And have you done so?” she asked as she looked Bright's family photos over. “It has been hours since your talk with her.”
“Not really,” I answered, then decided to dig. “You said you know Professor Newman well. Is she always so thorough in her research?”
Inkwell chuckled. “She is very thorough, yet never satisfied that she has been through enough. I hope you don't share that trait, though I see you share the trait of always trying to get more info. Trying to find out all you can is all well and good, but when it gets to the point of obsession, it isn't good. You've pondered over whatever this is for long enough with no progress. Take a break and have some fun. You can get fresh perspectives when you aren't tied up in your thoughts and only your thoughts. If you stick to yourself, you can never bring anything new to the equation.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” I replied.
She giggled. “Of course it does. I'm a smart mare. Not to brag…well, maybe a little. I've personally had to give many an important pony a dressing down for being too hard on themselves, even Princess Celestia. You've tarried long enough in here. Go spend time with your friends.”
I got out of my bed. “Good luck with Prim. She's not been very nice with any of us.”
Inkwell sighed. “Look, I understand you don't get along, but don't dismiss her. Yes, her family paid a lot of money to get her in here, but she still wouldn't have been admitted if Professor Newman saw nothing worth recommending to Headmaster, and I trust Professor Newman's judgment. Prim's much rougher around the edges than some of you others—she’s a spoiled, entitled brat, to be honest—but I have seen plenty of those over the years. Still, despite that, it doesn't mean there isn't anything worthwhile in her. It just takes time and effort to hammer away the rough edges. That may or may not happen. I have seen my share of failures, too. That doesn't mean I won't try my darndest to help her be her better self rather than her worse self. With luck, I've got four years to accomplish that. With even more luck, it won't take four years. At the very least, she seems to be a hard worker. She's impressed all of us with how dedicated she is to doing well rather than being given a free pass because she's rich. I suspect she'll have risen out of the bottom of the cellar when the next rankings are announced, if only for that display of effort.”
“And I'm not going to stay number one,” I replied, a little discouraged.
“I disagree with Headmaster for seemingly opening a competition for that top rank. It never mattered so much before. All I can say is don't stress the rankings too much beyond keeping in that top two-thirds of the class,” she gently said. “Being number one isn't the goal. Getting a good four-year education in magic is. Trying to be number one all the time never ends well, and even some who seem mediocre can go on to do great things—like Sunburst, who flunked out because he couldn't cast the majority of spells he was required to learn but is now one of Equestria's greatest mages, or Starlight Glimmer, who never even had formal magic education. I can't think of who the last first-ranked student was who went on to be notable.”
“Twilight Sparkle?” I guessed.
The professor shook her head. “She might have been if she had graduated, but she took off to Ponyville in her final year. Our current librarian ended up graduating first in that class. There's nothing wrong with being a librarian, and she's highly knowledgeable about a wide range of fields, more knowledgeable than me, but it isn't a field that we tend to celebrate the greats of—unless you’re a librarian, I suppose. I graduated first in my class, but I'll go down as but a background character in the annals of history, not that I mind. Don't fret about being first. It's not all that it's cracked up to be.”
“Why is the librarian not teaching if she's so knowledgeable?” I asked in confusion.
“A job has been offered by multiple administrations, but she prefers to study rather than teach, and she prefers self-study. Being in a library gives her access to all the books she could want,” Inkwell explained. “Still, if you ever need to research something, which I'm sure you will, she wouldn't be the worst pony to ask for help.”
I smiled. “Thank you l, professor. You've been very nice and made me feel a little better.”
She nodded. “Just looking out for my students, and I hope I have half as much success lifting the spirits with your wealthy classmate and don't end up having to add to her woes by giving her additional detention for disrespecting me—I may give her a pass on it if she does, given this isn't a classroom setting. Now go spend time with your friends.”