Twenty-four pairs of eyes bore through me as the colts and fillies waited expectantly.
I opened my mouth to speak, when a wave of deja vu hit me. I couldn’t quite place its source, though. Suddenly remembering that I was dealing with the judgment of children, I quickly composed myself. It was more awkward than intimidating, as I had had no idea what to say when the teacher mare prompted me to tell the class about myself. The silence quickly got to me, though, and I offered the cover story I was provided.
“I’m River Glade. I’m from Neighbraska, where my parents are police ponies. I’m currently staying at the castle as part of an exchange program,” I stated with confidence.
I glanced around the room and found my reception was wanting.
Are they expecting more?
“Do you have anything else you want to say about yourself?” The unicorn teacher asked patiently.
“No,” I answered after a moment of indecision.
She smiled broadly. “All right, you’re a bit shy. That’s okay.”
Shy?
“No, not really. There just isn’t much to say about me,” I responded.
I looked to the colts and fillies in the class, noticing that they seemed unusually interested in their new classmate. The exception was a small unicorn filly with a meticulously coiffured, rust-red, short mane and a light bronze coat. She was tapping her hooves on the desk, clearly bored.
“Oh, don’t be so modest,” the teacher said cheerfully. “Everypony is special in many, many ways. But if you can’t think of anything I’m sure somepony in the class has something she or he would like to know.”
At this, half a dozen hooves shot into the air.
“Zap,” the mare chose, pointing.
The familiar pegasus filly stood up in her desk behind the bored unicorn, which did little to elevate her.
“Where’d you get your cutie mark? You didn’t have it at the Junior Royal Guard exercises two days ago.”
“Oh, you just got your cutie mark? Congratulations, River!” the teacher cheered.
I glanced unfeelingly at the simple shield mark that now adorned my bum. I had been worried that it was a bit too similar to Bulwark’s, but I supposed Celestia knew what she was doing in creating this fake. These marks were so important culturally that I felt a little guilty for deceiving them like this, and the spell that created it struck me as a tool for liars, thieves and spies. While Celestia didn’t deny such uses, she had assured me that it had been developed for the honest purpose of permitting actors to have a mark individualized for each role.
“After spending my first day at the Junior Royal Guard, I realized that what I wanted to do was uphold the law in Equestria. I had done so well in the sparring and the field exercise that I thought that maybe I could do it, and then my mark appeared.”
I still avoided saying a phrase as fluffy as “cutie mark,” but otherwise, I delivered the story Star Chart had created for me perfectly. According to her, it was a question I would be getting a lot.
“That’s so cool!” Zap squeed. “You deserve it! We’re all happy that you took down Bulwark a peg or two. She’s way too stuffy.”
“That’s not very nice,” the teacher lightly scolded. “Anypony else?”
She called on the next pony.
“What’s your favorite color?” a small colt asked.
Is that even a question?
“Gray,” I answered, picking the first color that came to mind.
“Are some of your favorite things gray?” the teacher asked, trying to prompt me into elaborating.
“Yeah, I like rocks,” I said, bored.
Seven hooves were still in the air.
Thankfully, the teacher said, “We only have time for one more… yes, Pestle!”
The unicorn filly was staring at me intensely, as if trying to dissect me with her eyes.
“Do you know Sapphire Luster?”
“What!?” I burst out, recoiling.
“He’s a unicorn colt I met in Canterlot a few weeks ago. He was also an exchange student living in
the castle. Surely you’ve met him at some point since you are both in the same program. Come to think of it, his mane looks just like yours… I’d almost think you were related.”
“I—no—I don’t know what you are talking about..” I laughed nervously, rubbing the back of my head.
“River, are you shaking?” the teacher asked.
“No,” I lied, immediately stopping myself.
Man, this filly gives me the chills. She’s sharp!
“Okay, that’s enough for now. It’s time to start now. You can all catch up with River during recess.”
A wave of groans and disappointment swept through the room.
“There’s an open desk behind Zap. How about you sit there, River.”
I nodded in relief and cantered to the open seat. It took me a moment to figure out how to get up into the one-armed desk and eventually I settled on hopping up. I didn’t get any weird looks, so apparently this was how it was done. I took stock of my surroundings and started with the room itself. Like the interior of most buildings, the classroom was brightly colored. Being for children, the saccharine quality was maximized by hand-painted art of clouds, rainbows, flowers, balloons and stick ponies. Contrasting sharply with the three other walls, the front of the room was dominated by a large chalkboard and lectern.
“Good day, my good filly!” an immature, yet refined voice said.
I looked to my left and to my surprise the speaker was a griffin child. His feathers were of a green complexion much like my own fur. I did a double-take, but a second look left no doubt that he was speaking to me.
“I am Beakington the Third. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Filly? Can he see my magical signature? Th—this isn’t good… how should I respond?
“Beaky, that’s obviously a colt,” the unicorn two desks in front of me said in the most uppity way possible. "Although his girlish mane obviously belongs on a filly, how could you not realize something so obvious?”
At this, the griffin blushed profusely and turned away shyly. “M—my apologies,” he stammered. “It can still be hard for me to tell everywing apart, and I guess I still haven’t quite grown accustomed to it. Sorry.”
I might have been as embarrassed as he was, over my mane, but having considered the worse alternative of my secret being blown, I was relieved.
“Okay, everypony!” the teacher said giddily. “Today is Wednesday, so that means it’s time for math class!”
She paused for a moment as if waiting for her enthusiasm to be reciprocated, but aside from a beige filly with an abacus cutie mark scooting forward, the lack of cheer seemed to drain all the sound from the room.
“Today we’ll be starting ALGEBRA!”
Miss Abacus the unicorn did a backflip of joy.
“River, is this level appropriate for you?”
I nodded confidently.
Celestia had prepared me for this as well. Every school had its own curriculum and pace. As home to many ambassadors’ children, Canterlot First took a more diverse look at pony culture. The subjects that were actually relevant to me, like history and civics, would be presented in a way conducive to an outsider’s understanding. On the other hand, there was no getting around that a universal subject like math would be overly simplistic.
“Great!” the teacher said. “Now, let’s start with some review.” She started writing basic math on the board, mostly multiplication and division problems. “Does anypony want to volunteer?”
A predictable hoof shot up.
“Anypony other than Clever Theorem?”she asked expectantly.
“Mrs. Fizzle?” the bronze filly said.
“Yes, Annuity?”
Where have I heard that before?
“Why don’t we have River solve them? That way we’ll know if he’s up to speed or if he’ll need extra tutoring.”
For some reason, the Citrus siblings turned to face me with expressions of sympathy, which were shared by a few other ponies as well.
“An excellent suggestion! River, don’t be shy. Come on up!”
Fizzle pushed a small stool in front of the blackboard, and I took the hint and climbed it. I wasn’t nervous in the slightest despite all eyes being on me. On the contrary, I was pleased that I could make a first impression of competence in the one subject I knew I had a handle on. Examining the piece of chalk presented to me, I realized my first dilemma. I knew from watching the court reporter that ponies could write with their hooves. On the other hand, Star had made me practice my mouthwriting, so I wasn’t total newbie. I held slight concerns that I would be expected to write with my hooves, but fortunately nopony batted an eye when I took the chalk in my mouth. Still, this didn’t detract at all from the acute chalk taste I was forced to endure.
20 / 2 =
I quickly wrote in 10 and moved on.
3 x 3 =
I carefully sketched a 9.
13 / 6
I wrote in 13/6, imitating the question with my answer. After all, I didn’t know their stance on non-terminating decimals.
“While that is correct, River, here, we usually put it in its simplest form,” Fizzle said.
I lifted my hoof to erase, unsure what she was talking about.
“But your other school may have taught you differently. Go on.”
I moved to the next problem.
2 x 4
8. Simple enough.
5 x 5
I wrote 25
A pair of fillies in the front row started snickering. The teacher and I looked to the source simultaneously, but they had already stopped.
“River?”
“If I gave five apples to five friends, do you really think I would need fifty-one apples?”
“Of course not,”I said.
The teacher cocked her head, curious.
“How about these?”
She wrote 5+5, 5+5+5 and 12/5
Naively, I wrote 10, 15 and 2.4. Thinking back on my earlier my mistake, I tentatively turned to face the class. My heart jumped when a realization struck me.
Could their math be different? How is that possible?
The snickering of fillies was even louder this time.
“Twenty-eight? How can he get twenty-eight?”
“The next one is even better. How does he get it that wrong? Two point four? He must be joking.”
“Even Iron Jill knows that five plus five is ten!”
That’s what I wrote!
Fizzle glared at the chattering front row, which immediately went silent. She then lowered her muzzle towards me to condescend. “That’s okay, River, everypony learns at different speeds. We’ll get you caught up in no time. You can sit back down now,” she coddled.
I should have been horribly embarrassed at flunking basic math, but I was occupied with other surging emotions as I trotted back to my desk: indignity at being humiliated in front of children juxtaposed with unbridled confusion.
“Does anyone want to—yes, Annuity.”
The teacher hadn’t said one word before the unicorn filly’s hand shot up.
As soon as she was called, she galloped to the board, hopped on the stool and lit up her magic to manipulate three pieces of chalk at once.
5+5=A
5+5+5=F
12/5=5
I smirked. I had no idea what the symbols she had written in answer to the first two were, and she may well be right, but there was no way twelve divided by five was five.
“Correct!” the teacher praised.
Annuity looked smugly back at me.
I hate this world…
“The Treaty of Quebeak marked the effective end of the Griffin empire. Although, Griffonia continued to nominally be a nation state for four more years, tensions between the griffin clans soon reached a fever pitch. Their pride, which had so dominated the national identity, couldn’t stomach a military defeat. Soon, relations between the largest clans—the Barbeaks, the Featherven, and the Eggnostics—deteriorated, marking the beginning of the rapid disintegration of a continuous griffin settlement,” Raspberry Citrus recited from our textbook.
History had been a welcome change of pace. The class was characterized by the students reading from the text. Occasionally Mrs. Fizzle would chime in with further elaboration or ask prepared questions to check the reader’s understanding. She would even direct some of her questions at anypony who looked like they were slacking off. My experience with school had ingrained in me the necessity of remaining alert at all times, so fortunately this wasn’t a problem for me.
“Thank you, Raspberry, who wants to read next?”
A few hoofs rose and at least one paw.
“Yes, Bubble Bauble, go ahead.”
A blue and blue unicorn filly in the back row took her turn at reading: “Per the terms of the treaty, many of the emerging independent territories, began opening their borders to other races; some were more accommodating than others in that respect. While the griffins ceded most of their lands on the Equestrian continent to the pony diarchy, some traditional griffin holdings, such as Griffinstone were allowed to remain under their traditional rule.”
So even the pretty pony princess of the sun lowered herself to land grab through war? Maybe she’s not completely soft after all.
I felt my opinion of her rise somewhat..
“Okay, that’s good, Bubble, thank you,” the teacher said. “Now, let’s review some of our new vocabulary. Who can tell me what the word nascent means?”
I rose my hoof in the air.
“Yes, River!” the mare designated, clearly pleased at my participation.
“It means emerging, developing or new,” I answered.
“Very good.”
I smiled. I learned a long time ago to grab the low-hanging fruit in school: if you volunteer for the easy questions, you’re far less likely to be picked on when you’re completely stumped. The class then went through a few more vocabulary words: diarchy, to cede and nation-state. At that point the bell rang and the ponies cheered audibly and dashed out the door for “recess”. In theory, it was a rule that everypony was supposed to wait until they were dismissed, but it seemed like Fizzle had long since given up on enforcing that particular rule.
“Pretty interesting stuff, huh, River?” Beakington III asked.
“Yeah,”I answered, not completely lying. It would have been nice to learn about the conflict itself, but it seemed like they had already covered that. As it stood, it was still quite illuminating.
Why exactly is he talking to me, though?
Right as Fizzle trotted out the door to supervise recess, Annuity and Bubble accosted us.
“Is learning about how the ponies kicked your flank that fascinating to you, Beaky?” Annuity chided. “I suppose there’s not much choice for griffin history. All you griffins do is lose.”
“That’s not true!” Beakington objected. “The griffins won at Saddlehead, Bridle Beach and—and…”
“I’ll save you the trouble of trying to recall. That’s it.”
Beakington III blushed.
“Having your empire broken up serves you griffins right, though. After all, you birdbrains started the war.”
“That’s not true!” Beakington said. “It was precipitated by a variety of multi-faceted factors including competition over resources, mutual toxic nationalism, frayed trade relations, excessive tariffs on weather services, Princess Luna’s bad mane day, the battle magic lobby, Blood Hackle Clan proving rituals, the death of Emperor Wizened Wing without progeny, and most importantly of all a fundamental disagreement of the place of carnivores in the Age of Enlightenment.”
However, his powerful argument was refuted by an equally compelling response.
“Nerd!” Bubble teased.
“I am not!” Beakington III protested.
I turned to leave, figuring I had already stayed so long. It would make sense that griffins would be jeered at for coming out on the losing side. I would not be surprised if my people were living as second class citizens among those heinous bears. The least the victors owe the defeated is a noble death. The fact that griffins were even allowed to exist among ponies was another example of their intolerable softness. It would have been a kindness to destroy the Griffin Empire totally rather than to cruelly allow it to limp along as directionless shards of a civilization. Perhaps Beakington III was kept around as a trophy to remind the ponies of their triumph? It would promote unity and make sense. Yes, I was sure I had figured it out now.
“What’s wrong, New Colt? Aren’t you going to defend your friend?” Bubble mocked.
“Friend?” I asked, confused. Beakington slumped at this for some reason.
“I figured you two newbies would herd together in a flash—the two outcasts, the nerd and the dunce,” Annuity mocked.
The words of a mere filly did not bother me in the slightest. I had shown my weakness, so she was right to berate me for it. I was actually glad that someone understood that law of my home.
I left and didn’t look back. The joviality of the playing foals contrasted sharply with the scene I had just witnessed. Fillies were jumping rope, Spectacle and a few of the colts were examining a grasshopper with a magnifying glass, and a large group was playing some game I did not understand.
“Hey, River, want to play hide n’ go seek with us?” Zap asked, flying to close the distance between us.
“He can’t,” a colt I recognized as Daybreak said. “We’re in the middle of a game.”
“Oh,” Zap said. “Sorry, River. Maybe next time!”
And she made her exit just as quickly as she appeared. That left me stumped as to exactly what I was supposed to be doing, but I didn’t want to admit my confusion to the teacher and further expose myself as a patsy. Observing for a few minutes I concluded that this was some sort of time for physical activity. It made sense: none of the other classes were physically-based.
Satisfied with my conclusion, I spent the rest of the half-hour running methodically around the fenced field. The foals looked at me somewhat strangely, but what I was doing didn’t seem too out of the ordinary.
“Run, Glade, run!” One filly called after me, smiling, pleased with herself, as if she had made a joke.
The first thing that I noticed was that my apparently boundless child energy did not translate well into stamina. Within two minutes I was already panting and had to stop. Nonetheless, I pressed on and continued running laps around the pony playground. The directionless class period seemed to drag on extra long, but fortunately my training allowed me to counteract the boredom somewhat.
“All right, everpony, recess is over!” Fizzle called.
I slowed down to a canter from full gallop and gradually decreased my speed further. My muscles ached, but I was pleased with what I had done. Still, I was ready for the next class.
Once the class had gathered in its entirety, Fizzle clapped her hooves together in what must have been a signature gesture of hers.
“Okay, everypony, it’s time for music class!”
I cringed.
From the class there were genuine cheers, which cut beneath my skin like an icy wind. I noticed Annuity taking account of this; she smirked. Although an unpleasant pony, I did have to give her credit for being aware of her surroundings. Once more I cursed this childish form. My emotions seemed to have grown with me shrinking and were much more difficult to conceal.
“Okay, who wants the leading role in today’s performance? Today’s topic is how everypony is special.”
Almost every hoof rose into the air. Notable exceptions were the she-minotaur and griffin.
“Annuity! You haven’t done it in a while,” the teacher announced.
Smiling sinisterly, the filly proposed, “Actually, Mrs. Fizzle, since this is River’s first day here I thought he could have the honor.”
The mare beamed at the suggestion.
“That’s an excellent idea, Annuity, but River didn’t raise his hoof.” She winked at me. ‘But I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to volunteer once he gets accustomed to how we practice. Why don’t you do it?”
The bronze filly wasn’t displeased with this outcome. She looked back at me, silently broadcasting, “you got lucky” to me. I appreciated her challenging me to confront my weaknesses, but her motives were clearly less-than-pure.
Next, Annuity picked Bubble Bauble from among the volunteers to sing the duet part with her. Even in Equestria, it was good to see cronyism was live and well. The teacher then sorted us into groups. I was put into the background chorus along will Jill, Beakington, Pestle Mix, Thaumaturgical Spectacle and more than half-a-dozen others. From there we were instructed to get with our groups and brainstorm some themes. Seeing my only recourse, I seized my opportunity. It was a dishonorable gambit I wasn’t fond of, but the situation warranted it.
“Mrs Fizzle?”
“Yes, River, how can I help you?”
“I am feeling sick currently. Although I regret having to miss class, I would recommend you dismiss me to see the campus physician.”
To my surprise she didn’t turn me down. Even worse: she instead opted to embrace me, bringing me close to her barrel in a tight hug.
“I know you’re a bit shy, My Little Pony, but this will be a good opportunity to come out of your shell at your new school. When something looks intimidating, instead of running away, you should face it. That’s the best way to learn and grow.” She gave a knowing look. “Besides your guardian told me you might try to wiggle our way out of music class.”
Darn you, Celestia…
“Why do we even need music class anyway?” I complained.
“Spontaneous musical numbers are a national treasure. Surely you’ve been enthralled with the ability of adult ponies to create and improvise songs?”
“Yes?”.
“Well, some ponies may tell you otherwise, but nopony is born knowing how to do synchronized singing all on their own; it takes practice. You’ve got to keep working, and someday, participating in spontaneous song sequences will be second-nature to you.”
“But I don’t want to…” I said in token objection.
She hugged me even tighter.
“I know it was difficult at your old school. Being enrolled in a failing school and having seven different teachers in two years is no way to learn. It’s no wonder you’re so behind in reading, music and math.”
I was speechless. This mare was so warm and genuine that her pony essence threatened to overflow and seep into me via osmosis.
She finally put me down.
“Don’t worry. We’ll meet these challenges one step at a time. I understand where you are and won’t ask too much of you all at once. But for now, you should rejoin your group. I’m sure you have some great ideas!”
I sulked and walked away.
Ponyfeathers? Yeah, that was how those guards cursed. It’s warranted here regardless, so ponyfeathers…
Thankfully, the group discussion was wrapping up and I only needed to wait two more minutes before we were directed to go to our places.
Out of the blue, a chipper woodwind tune swept through the school grounds. I swallowed hard. There was going to be no way of getting out of this one. The whimsical tune was enchanting; I felt like it had a grip on me, holding my sanity hostage until I joined in. Annuity nodded her head in time for about thirty seconds before it gave her the natural indication to begin.
“Everypony has joy to bring, you need only look inside you. Everypony’s got their own special skill to make their grand debut.”
“At level forty when they unlock their prestige class,” Spectacle murmured, earning him a hoof-bump from Pestle.
Annuity started walking in rhythm and I mimicked my section in following her in formation at about half-speed. Fortunately, the simple formation took no time at all to grasp. The tempo of the music then rose and we all picked up our pace in response.
“Walking along the street each day, I see reams and reams of ponies. Manes and coats colorful and diverse, tails wavy, long, and terse. They say a pony’s color comes from within. I know it as a matter of fact. Everypony offers a friend to meet—with whom to interact.
She stopped and waved to Zephyr Zap.
“Good morning, Zap.”
“Good morning, Annuity!”
“Good morning, Blueberry!”
“Oh, good morning, Annuity…” Blueberry said weakly.
“What’s the matter?” the unicorn filly asked, approaching him in carefully blocked movement.
“Oh, nothing… somepony made me feel bad about myself. I’m a no-good pony.”
Annuity smiled for a moment before putting on a sympathetic smile. “Don’t be silly!” she said wrapping one hoof around him and starting to march again. On the next verse, the front section of the class started following the designated leader in a v-formation.
“Always remember. Don’t forget! Nopony is more special than you, or more special than me.”
“Some ponies have money!” A colt to the right of annuity sang with a fake doubloon in hand.
“Some ponies are funny!” A filly in the front sang, deflating a whoopee cushion.
“Some ponies like honey!” A different filly sang, lifting up a honey pot in her mouth.
Where are they getting all of these props?
A unicorn colt pulled out of cards “Some ponies play gin rumm—“ He blushed and looked side to side, clearly stumped as his planned rhyme failed. “Uhh… I gotta go—my nose is runny.” And he ran off.
Unfortunately, Annuity saved the musical sequence flawlessly.
“None of that matters!” She then sang in a rapidfire style I couldn’t recognize. “A pony’s worth comes from within, not from kind of kin. If a pony doesn’t like you, don’t let it get under your skin. Everypony’s special that’s the word. Let me tell ya’ll ‘bout what I heard!”
In unison the entire class sung, “Everypony has something special to bring. Come on everypony! Everypony has a song to sing! Get up everypony!”
I hummed and hawed along, not knowing this song. The lyrics were simple, so I had them ready for the next outing of the chorus. They had said this was improvised, but surely the other students weren’t psychic; they had to know this song.
“When I was a filly my mother used to ask me, “Annuity what do you want to be when you’re a fine young mare?” I told her all I want is to be my own pony. Even now this is what I want—this and this only. I will be the best mare I can be—this I surely swear.”
As if on cue, Bubble Bauble stepped to the center of the line and put her muzzle close to Annuity’s, and they sang together.
“Earth ponies till the earth and bring life’s berth. Pegasi bring the rain for everypony’s gain. Unicorns have magic touch; they’re quite handy as such. Equestria’s brighter with all three—a harmonic trinity.”
“But I’m not that good at magic,” the unicorn colt from earlier griped.
“And the weather is boring,” Zap added.
“And I have a higher calling than farmwork,” A snooty-looking earth filly said.
“Don’t worry,” Annuity said cheerily. “Because—“
“Everypony has something special to bring. Come on everypony! Everypony has a song to sing! Get up everypony!”
“Everytaur too,” Jill added awkwardly.
“And every Griffin three,” Beakington III sang.
From there, a few more awkwardly rhymed verses continued. It was obvious that everyone present was more interested in this than I was, including the other non-ponies. I sang along during my insignificant part in the chorus until finally the musical number came to an end with one last iteration of the chorus.
“All right, everypony, very good job!” Fizzle said with a look of pride. You’re all getting better every day. Very good use of rap, Annuity.”
The bronze filly beamed.
“You all get full points for the message of the song, too.”
I raised an eyebrow at that. Wasn’t that all Annuity—and the assigned theme no less?
“I liked your additions to the song, Jill and Beakington III. But remember that chorus members usually don’t have individual lines. Still, we shouldn’t forget our non-pony friends.”
From there she made a few more comments directed at various individuals. She even critiqued the performance of some of the background chorus members! Assuming she wasn’t putting on airs, it was amazing that this mare could distinguish one voice among around two-dozen. For a tense moment it looked as if she had something to say to me, but thankfully she abruptly dismissed class to the cheers of everypony. It was only noon, but I certainly couldn’t muster any objection.
“Hey, River, I have an experiment I need help with and—“
I pretended not to hear Pestle as I made a beeline towards the gate.
I made it about a hundred yards outside the premises before I was accosted yet again.
“There you are, River!” Zap said, flying to catch up to me. “We’re playing hide n’ seek again if you want to join us. What’s your hurry anyway?”
“I’m sorry, I have to get back to the castle,” I answered. In truth I had had more than enough pony glee for the day. A playdate with an energetic filly was the last thing I wanted.
“Oh, maybe next time then…”
And so, I walked alone along the bustling Canterlot quarter, meeting with Star Chart at the prearranged rendezvous point.
“You know you could have played with them, right? It would have been good for you.”
“I am aware,” I replied curtly.
Twilight sat at the side of Celestia’s throne, waiting for Aron’s return. It was a bit strange for Celestia to be seated while she was on the floor, but it would be weird for her to have a throne in Celestia’s castle anyway. Her wings were buzzing with excitement. She hadn’t planned to come back to Canterlot so soon, but hearing firsthoof impressions from another being about Equestrian schools was too fascinating to pass up.
Without warning, a sober thought passed through her head.
“Umm…. Princess Celestia?”
“Yes, my favorite student?”
“D—did we ever tell Aron our number system is base twenty-three?”
In response, Celestia’s regal mask drooped into a slight frown.
“I—I may have forgotten to mention that.”