//------------------------------// // 8. A Trip to the Schoolhouse (rw) // Story: Tales of the Oppressed // by Terran34 //------------------------------// A short time after dawn’s first light creeps over the horizon, Vinyl knocks at my door loudly, waking me from my slumber. I lurch up into a sitting position, remnants of last night’s unsettling dream still lingering in my mind. I can still see the fading image of my university juxtaposed with the decrepit and decaying remnant that it had become. “I’m awake,” I respond to Vinyl tiredly as the knock comes once again. She doesn’t respond, but I do hear the sound of her hooves retreating in the hallway. I heave a sigh and attempt to rub the sleep out of my eyes. While sleeping in a bed is leagues more comfortable than shivering beneath the bridge, I don’t feel nearly as rested as I’d hoped. I climb out of bed and slap my cheeks sharply, the pain serving to help wake me up further. A quick glance around the room reminds me of the events that took place at last night’s party. I let out a soft groan; I made a fool of myself by losing my temper not just once, but twice. I wish I’d have the sense to keep my cool, or at the very least, do a better job of avoiding the ponies at that party. I’ll never get out of this blasted town if I can’t even keep a level head. The first thing I do is locate what’s left of my clothes. Although my jeans had been washed by Zecora, they’re wrinkled, stained with dirt, and smell faintly of sweat. That’s without counting the rips and tears accumulated from the punishment I’ve taken since arriving in this era. I grab them and quickly dress, deciding that I don’t need to bathe, as I’d done so the previous night. After taking a moment to tidy my hair as best I can, I pocket my wallet and phone, tie the bag of bits around my belt, and grab my rifle from the dresser. Once I’ve gathered everything, I make my way into the hallway. I can already detect the odor of cooking food wafting up the stairwell. I can’t tell exactly what Vinyl is making, but the scent of frying eggs is at least evident. I assume it’ll become more clear once I descend the stairs into the kitchen. Vinyl stands at the stove in the midst of the mess that is her kitchen. The stovetop as well as the countertops immediately surrounding her appear to have been recently cleaned, but everywhere else is just as cluttered as it had been the previous night. As for Vinyl herself...well, I think it’s safe to say she’s not a morning person in the slightest. The mare is leaning on the counter, using her magic to telekinetically slide the pan beneath the eggs within as she slowly fries them. Her mane is a complete unbrushed mess, hanging limply on both sides of her neck, and her eyes are half-shut. When she notices my presence, she gives a faint grunt of acknowledgement. “You’re a sight. How often do you get up this early?” I question her curiously after a quick glance in the pan. “Never,” Vinyl groans, the mare looking as though she’ll fall asleep where she stands. She shoots a glare towards a coffee machine that chugged softly in the corner of the room. “Why is the coffee not done yet!?” “You can go back to sleep if you want. I can cook,” I point out.  I choose to leave out the fact that I greatly dislike having to cook for myself. “Nah, I already said I’d make breakfast,” Vinyl returns. A moment later, the coffee machine beeped. Briefly setting down the pan, Vinyl snatches the coffee pot out of the machine and pours some of it directly into her mouth, despite the fact that it is probably scalding. Her eyes widen, and she then downs a glass of ice water equally quickly. “Hhhuah! I’m awake! I’m awake!” “You seriously plan to get up at dawn every day, seven days a week, just to make breakfast for me? I don’t intend to take days off,” I remind her with a hint of incredulity in my voice. Vinyl blanches. “Yeeah, maybe not every morning,” Vinyl reconsiders with a wince, earning a brief snort from me. She pours herself a more conventional cup of coffee, and then offers the pot to me. “Want some coffee? You’ll probably need it.” “No, I don’t drink caffeine.” I decline her offer with a shake of my head. She looks at me skeptically, noting how my eyelids are also drooping. “Suit yourself,” Vinyl remarks with a shrug, setting the pot back on the counter. As much as a boost would be nice, I suspect that the cold will be a more effective pick up than any drug. Vinyl returns to the counter just in time to flip the eggs with a satisfying sizzle. Every so often, as she cooks, she gulps down her coffee. “It’s gonna be pretty cold out there. You gonna be alright?” “I’ll be fine. Farm work will keep me active,” I return, my gaze falling to the table, feeling somewhat uncomfortable. Her question reminds me that my first priority needs to be warmer clothes. It’s cold enough here in Ponyville; I don’t even want to imagine how cold it’ll be in the north. I only know of one pony that for sure makes clothing, but I don’t believe she can make human clothing. Nor do I think she’d want to, given how our previous meeting ended. “I guess. I don’t envy you though. Can I get you to take a scarf at least?” Vinyl asks as she finishes frying the eggs. She turns to see my reaction, only to be met with a very telling expression. Vinyl sighs and turns back to the pan. A couple of plates fly out of the cupboards with telekinesis, and before long, there are two plates of fried eggs and toast on the table. “That reminds me. I owe you a strap.” I scowl at that, but I don’t stop her as she walks into the sitting room, where she starts rummaging through the mess. As she starts moving everything around and muttering to herself, I eat my breakfast, using the fork provided to me. The toast isn’t anything special, but the eggs are pretty good. If I had to guess, they came from the farm. After a short moment of throwing myriad objects about, Vinyl lifts up what appears to be a black electric guitar, though there aren’t any inputs for the amplifier. She blinks at it, as though she hadn’t expected to find it. “She’s probably gonna want this back,” Vinyl commented, setting the instrument aside. It only took her a moment longer to find the strap of which she’d spoken. She returned to the table, floating the trap over to me. “Aha! I knew it was hiding in here somewhere.” “It only took you about five minutes,” I comment wryly as I finish up the last of my meal. I grab the strap when it reaches me. A quick glance reveals it to be a simple black guitar strap, with holes on either end where it would be fastened to a guitar. I’m not certain how I’d affix it to my rifle. “I really need to clean this room,” Vinyl laments in response to my comment. She plops down on the seat across from me and starts to eat. “Take the strap to the boutique after you get off work. She’s probably got some Liquid Rock laying around.” “‘Liquid Rock?’” I echo, perplexed. “Yeah, it’s basically a really sweet glue that’s like rock when you magic it,” Vinyl explained. I raise an eyebrow. That sound suspiciously like super glue, but there must be more to it if there’s magic involved. “Two dabs of that, and you won’t have to lug your stick around with your hands anymore.” “I see. I’ll get it taken care of,” I reply curtly. I can’t be carrying this around while I’m working, so I tie it around my waist like a belt. There’s nothing more for me to do here, so I pick up my rifle and head for the door. Then I remember something important. “When are we going to make this housing contract official?” “That’s right, we still gotta do that,” Vinyl looked as though she’d just remembered about it. She groans, covering her snout with a hoof. “Aw, I hope there’re not a lot of hoops for us to jump through. You never know with the mayor.” “That doesn’t bode well,” I grumble, already not looking forward to it. “I already had a bad feeling about meeting her.” “What? Why? She’s not that bad,” Vinyl gives me a confused look. I think about explaining to her, but I decide against it. There’s no doubt that she’d argue with my reasoning. “Nevermind. I don’t have time to talk about it anyway. I’m heading out,” I dismiss with a sigh. I turn back towards the door and leave the house without another word, shutting the door firmly behind me. I immediately wince and shiver as the cold air impacts my bare chest. The thought of enduring this for the time it would take me to get some warm clothes is enough to make me want to walk back inside. While I walk, I ponder about the cost of such clothing. All I know about the worth of bits is that one bit will buy me about ten apples, and that fifteen bits will get me a room at the bar for a night. I suppose that’s one more thing to ask when I get to the boutique. That name sounds familiar. I recall the overdressed pony at the party - Rarity, I think her name was - attempting to persuade me to visit her boutique for free clothing. I scowl somewhat, remembering how our first meeting had gone. While free clothing would be nice, an offer like that is too good to be true. This goes especially for someone like Rarity; judging by that dress she wore, she’s rather well off. I cut through the side roads as often as possible, avoiding the square in my attempt to avoid ponies as much as possible. Thankfully, it’s very early, and very few are out and about. Due to this, I make my way to the farm unhindered. It appears Applejack is already getting ready for the day’s work. I find her at the front of the barn, a cart set before her filled with all manner of foodstuffs. There are apples in barrels, freshly wrapped pies, and other pastries that I can’t quite make out. Beside her is Big MacIntosh, the larger stallion strapped into a second cart filled with empty apple baskets. Also with the two of them is the young filly, Apple Bloom. Unlike the last time I saw her, she’s now wearing a pair of saddlebags hanging down either side of her flank, each packed with books and notebooks. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that she’s likely about to leave for school. “Morning, Seth!” Applejack calls to me with a tip of her hat and a bright smile when she spots my approach. Apple Bloom also calls to me, and even Big MacIntosh gives me a terse greeting when I reach them. I choose not to respond to any of them with anything other than a wordless nod. “You ready to get to work?” “As I’ll ever be. Will I be working with Big MacIntosh with the apple trees, like I did yesterday with you?” I respond politely, dreading the hard work that was soon to follow. “Maybe later, but now, I actually got something different for you to do,” Applejack decides. She indicates her younger sister with a slight hoof motion. “Would you mind terribly taking Apple Bloom to school?” I raise an eyebrow at the rather odd request, suppressing the sigh that threatens to emerge. The last thing I want to do is spend time with a kid; I find them more intolerable than adults at times. “Wait what?” Even Apple Bloom seems surprised by this, her confused gaze switching between her sister and me. “I suppose I can, but isn’t she old enough to get to school on her own?” I ask, doing my best to hide my annoyance. “Yeah, I ain’t a baby! It ain’t that far from here to school!” Apple Bloom protests, the filly readily taking my side. Unfortunately it doesn’t make a difference in the end. “I ain’t taking any chances. Other than Fluttershy, we’re the closest to the Everfree,” Applejack expresses. I glance over to the fringes of the Everfree far in the distance. It’s quite a distance from here...a fact that Apple Bloom knows well; she immediately protests that logic. “No buts, Apple Bloom. Besides, there’s another reason I’m sending him with you.” “And that would be?” I prompt her expectantly, already accepting the unpleasant task to come. “I got a few deliveries for miss Cheerilee, the schoolteacher. She was at the party last night. Have you met her yet?” Applejack reveals. I search my memory, and then shake my head. “She’s a nice enough sort. I think you’ll like her.” A rather bitter retort comes to mind concerning my experiences with teachers, but I choose not to voice it. Looking at the bright side, I’m getting out of heavy labor for roughly an hour, counting the walk there and back. Choosing not to comment on her last statement, I nod. “Okay. I can do that. Which of these packages am I bringing to her?” My acceptance of the task earns a satisfied smile from Applejack and a sigh from Apple Bloom. Applejack takes a few moments to fish out the food, using her mouth and forehoof to collect them all. “Do you often deliver to the school?” “Every now and then. Sometimes Cheerilee likes to give out some of Granny’s cooking to all them foals for lunch. Usually I go deliver them myself, but…” Applejack looks rather pleased with herself. “Now I don’t have to. Thanks for doing this.” “It’s my job,” I say simply, taking the packages from her, carefully avoiding wherever Applejack’s mouth touched. There’s quite a few of them. Between the rifle and the stack of pastries, my hands are thoroughly full. Despite this, it’s nothing I can’t handle. I glance down at Apple Bloom, briefly meeting her gaze. “Let’s go.” “Have a good day at school!” Applejack calls after Apple Bloom and I as the two of us walk back towards the entrance of the school. A silence falls between the two of us once we’re out of earshot of the two older ponies. Apart from our initial meeting, the two of us have never been alone together, and it’s about as awkward as one would expect. She switches between looking around at her surroundings, and looking shyly at me. Eventually, she works up the courage to talk to me. “Um...Mr. Seth, I…” Apple Bloom begins. “I don’t know the way to your school,” I cut across her, pretending as though I didn’t hear her. I’m worried about being alone with her, purely because I know that I can’t handle kids very well. These ponies appear to be like humans in the way that they think, speak, and act, so it stands to reason that I’ll have the same problems with them as I did with humans. “I’ll need you to direct me.” “Oh, the schoolhouse? It ain’t hard to find, I can show you,” Apple Bloom responded readily, only surprised for a moment by my interruption. “Maybe I can show you around Ponyville too?” “I’ll pass. You’ll be late for school if you do that.” Unfortunately, that’s little more than a guess;  I don’t know for sure when school begins for her. “Besides, your sister isn’t paying me to walk around town idly.” “I guess so,” Apple Bloom concedes. The silence falls between us again, persisting until we reach Ponyville proper. I suppress a groan at the sight of the town waking up for the day. Although I was able to avoid them on the way out, it seems I won’t be so lucky this time. With Apple Bloom giving me small directions here and there, I follow the streets, doing my best to ignore the attention I’m garnering just by walking. To avoid losing my patience, I take in my surroundings as I walk, attempting to memorize their features in case I need to find my way to the schoolhouse later. All in all, it’s turning out to be a rather uneventful walk. “Apple Bloom! Wait up!” A high-pitched voice squeaks after us. Without slowing my pace, I turn  my head to see a second filly about the same age as Apple Bloom cantering towards us. She’s a unicorn with a soft white coat and a head covered with pink and lavender curls. Like Apple Bloom, there’s no cutie mark on her flank. She inevitably notices me and skids to a stop beside Apple Bloom, kicking up dust in the process. “Whoa! Uh...hi! I saw you at the party!” “Don’t mind me. Talk to your friend,” I say with a sigh, recognizing the filly for what she was. Due to her age and familiarity with Apple Bloom, I’d say that she’s one of her classmates. I set my rifle aside and take a moment to brush the dust off of my jeans. “Remember we’re on a time table.” “Good morning, Sweetie Belle!” After giving me an appreciative look, Apple Bloom greets her friend with a loving nuzzle. “This is Mr. Seth! He’s taking me to school today instead of my sis.” The two of them start to catch up with one another, and through their conversation I confirm my previous assumption about their relationship. It also quickly becomes clear that the unicorn, Sweetie Belle, isn’t quite by herself either; she’s walking with her older sister, with whom I’m already acquainted. “Good morning. Seth, was it?” Rarity greets me, the older unicorn catching up to her sister at her own pace. Her words are clipped and her expression is completely neutral; it’s clear to me that she hasn’t forgotten our previous altercation. “Rarity,” I respond with a slight nod, keeping my voice clear of any inflection. Unlike last night, Rarity isn’t wearing any clothing, but her mane is just as meticulously styled as before. I note that her cutie mark, which I’m only now getting to see, is a set of three bluish diamonds. The meaning of such a mark isn’t readily apparent to me at first glance. “Taking your sister to school?” “That’s quite right,” Rarity answers. Her tone is polite, but I can’t deny the tension I feel between us. She seems every bit like the kind of woman who would take what I said then personally and hold it against me. Even though I know this, she carefully doesn’t let her face betray any positive or negative feelings. “Speaking of which, Sweetie Belle, we shouldn’t dally. You wouldn’t want to be late, would you?” “No, miss Cheerilee would get mad at us. C’mon, Apple Bloom,” Sweetie Belle beckons to her friend with a small hoof, and the two of them continue their conversation from before as they continue walking down the street. I can hear my name come up in their conversation, but it’s nothing more than Sweetie Belle’s curiosity. The two of them walking together ultimately means that I’m forced to walk beside Rarity, the silence making me wish I could leave Apple Bloom with them and make a hasty retreat. If I didn’t have deliveries to make to the school, Applejack likely wouldn’t have minded. I suppose letting Apple Bloom make the deliveries is an option, but its not a feasible one; there are too many of these for her to carry by herself. “Pardon me for asking, but I can’t help but notice that you’re walking with Apple Bloom.” Rarity deigned to break the silence between us herself. It seems that Sweetie Belle isn’t the only one curious. Her eyes fall to the packages I’m carrying. “Are you by chance, working with Applejack?” “That’s right. I’m making deliveries to the school. It was more convenient for her if I walked with Apple Bloom in the process,” I reply with just enough information to assuage her curiosity. When I look at Rarity, I see her eyeing me with a guarded expression. “I imagine it’s hard work. Do you like it there?” Rarity continues conversationally. Despite my expectations, I can’t find a trace of bitterness in her tone. “Depends on what you mean by ‘like.’ Are you asking if I enjoy working there?” There’s no getting out of this conversation, as we’re going the same direction. I’d rather avoid another argument, so I carefully watch my words. “I don’t understand. Is there another meaning?” Rarity presses, one eyebrow rising almost imperceptibly. “In my mind, there is. I’m doing what I have to. It’s necessary. There’s no enjoyment to be had in manual labor,” I explain shortly. I regret saying that almost immediately, noting how Apple Bloom slightly turns her head toward me. She’s still talking with Sweetie Belle, but I have to be doubly careful what I say. I don’t want her going to Applejack if I say something too negative. “I couldn’t agree more. It’s strenuous and difficult, and you feel so filthy afterward,” Rarity surprisingly concurs with my statement, brushing her coat with a hoof as if to brush away nonexistent dirt. “What about Applejack herself? Do you like working with her?” “Why do you ask?” I reply carefully, watching Rarity closely. Her expression betrays nothing of what she’s thinking. “Just making conversation,” she answers with a small smile. I exhale with some frustration. It’s impossible to read her, and I’m getting impatient. “There’s still some ways yet to go.” “That’s true, but considering the results of our last conversation, I’d think that I’d be the last person you’d want to talk to,” I retort, deciding to be direct. This back and forth between us has grown tiresome. Rarity’s expression finally changes into one of concern, her eyes widening slightly. “Oh, you’re referring to the party? No no, I must apologize for my behavior that night.” Rarity’s words nearly cause me to drop the packages I’m carrying. She struck me as the prissy type who would be full of herself, but she’s apologizing? “I didn’t take into account your feelings at all; no doubt there’d be some cultural differences between us.” “That’s not quite it, but...it’s close enough.” I don’t really know how to respond. In just a few short seconds, the image of her that I’d built up in my head no longer seemed to fit. I don't get it. I was rather rude to her last night; she’d have every right to hold that against me. “That’s...rather surprising.” “What is?” Rarity prompts. “It’s nothing. Just thinking aloud,” I hastily recover, shifting my grip to keep a hold of both my rifle and the packages. “To answer your question, Applejack’s not a bad taskmaster. At the very least, she respects my boundaries.” “Glad to hear it. I couldn’t do what she does.” Rarity shudders a bit just thinking about it. “I can barely do what she does,” I mutter under my breath. A chill breeze brushes against my skin, causing goosebumps to form on my chest and arms. “You said you work at the boutique?” “Why, yes! The Carousel Boutique, to be specific,” Rarity lit up at the question, the mare seeming happy to talk about her workplace. “It’s less of ‘where I work’ and more ‘where I live.’” “I’ll be dropping by after work, if you’re not doing anything else. I have something I’d like you to take care of.” I decide to give her some prior warning about my upcoming visit. Rarity looked rather pleased at that, her smile growing. “But of course! I am in between major orders, so I’ll have the time. Are you coming for clothes? It’s getting colder, and without fur to keep warm, you’ll be miserable,” Rarity responds, her excitement visibly growing. “Ooh, I can already think of a few designs that would look simply marvelous on you! A lot of colors go with black, and although green is more difficult to work with, I’m confident that I can…” “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” I cut her off sharply before she can get too enthusiastic. “I will need warmer clothes eventually, but I’m not there yet. I need something simpler and hopefully cheaper.” “Oh, I see. I’m sorry for getting excited. I just think about all the designs I could try and get positively giddy,” Rarity looks a little annoyed at getting interrupted, but she doesn’t say anything further about it. She looks forward, slowing her pace. “Well, I do believe we’re here!” I turn my gaze forward as well, where I get my first look at the schoolhouse. I blink. I’m not sure what I expected when I heard ‘schoolhouse,’ but I didn’t expect a design this archaic. The structure ahead appeared to be something right out of the 1960s; it was a simple pentagonal building with a single room and a belltower just above the door, a lone brass bell hanging at its top. The walls were a bright red and were decorated with a heart motif around the tops of its tall windows and lining the white fringes of the scaled roof. The front porch consisted of a small set of steps and two white pillars supporting an overhang. Juxtaposed with the schoolhouse is a minimalistic fenced-in playground containing a slide, a set of swings, and an odd contraption consisting of a pair of rubber balls attached to two separate ropes. In this playground is an assortment of foals, both male and female, their colorful coats a stark contrast to surrounding field. I’m guessing they arrived here before us, and are waiting for school to start. “How quaint,” I observe. It’s hard for me to imagine what going to school in a place like that would be like; human schools are much larger. I’m guessing I’ll soon see what the inside looks like as well, because I don’t see many adult ponies. “Perhaps, but charmingly so,” Rarity agrees with a dip of her head. She leans down to nuzzle Sweetie Belle. “Have a good day at school, darling!” “We will! Bye, Rarity!” Sweetie Belle promises. The smaller white filly trots towards the field, beckoning to Apple Bloom. “C’mon, let’s go find Scootaloo!” “Just a sec.” Apple Bloom turned to face me. “Thanks for walking me to school, Mr. Seth.” “Just Seth is fine. Don’t mention it; I’m just doing my job,” I respond coolly in an attempt to remain aloof. I look beside me, noticing that Rarity is starting to leave. “Will you be walking back in this direction?” Rarity asked. I don’t miss the unspoken invitation to walk with her. “I’m going inside, so if you’re leaving, go on ahead. I’ll see you later this evening,” I reply, turning away from her. Rarity nods, and it isn’t long before she’s out of sight. I sigh and follow Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle towards the schoolhouse. I suppose that didn’t go nearly as poorly as I’d expected it would. I can’t believe that she doesn’t hold anything against me for last night, however. I suddenly hear another filly with a boyish voice calling out to Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle. From among the throng of foals emerges an orange pegasus with a scruffy purple mane. I squint a bit, finding the color combination somewhat difficult at which to look. “Hey crusaders! I just had the best idea of what to…” the third filly refers to the other two somewhat strangely, but she immediately cuts off when she spots me. I mentally prepare myself even as her eyes widen. “Whoa, what is that!? Is that the human thing everyone’s talking about?” “That’s Mr…” Apple Bloom begins. “My name is Seth, and I don’t appreciate being talked about like I’m not here,” I snap somewhat irritably at the filly, causing her to jump. Unfortunately, the filly’s words were loud enough to get the attention of some of the other foals, who begin to stare at me without even bothering to hide their interest. I sigh and move past the fillies. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a delivery to make.” “Wait up! I’m sorry, alright? It’s just we were all told there were no humans anymore!” the filly rushes to catch up with me, much to my annoyance. “So the fact you’re here is kinda cool!” “So I’ve been told. Frankly, I don’t see it,” I retort with a hint of self-deprecation in my voice. She doesn’t seem like she’s going to leave me alone, so I decide to risk being a little cold. “Go play with your friends. They at least, appear to welcome your presence.” “What? I just wanted to ask a few questions. You don’t need to be mean about it,” the filly protests hotly, her nose wrinkling up. “I’d suggest you save your breath. If you think I’m mean, that’s okay. Making friends is hardly my priority,” I recommend to her. While my intention was to stave her off, my words have the opposite effect, only making the filly angry. “Seriously? What kind of jerk…?” the filly begins, but fortunately Apple Bloom steps in, pulling her aside. “Apple Bloom, what…?” “Scootaloo, We don’t need to be fighting. He’s working for my sis, so we shouldn’t hold him up,” Apple Bloom explains. I don’t hear the rest of their conversation, as I’ve already reached the the front steps of the schoolhouse, leaving them behind in the process. I open the door and step inside, making sure to duck beneath the low door frame. The glossy wooden floor creaks beneath my feet with every step, causing me to question the age of the structure. As for the rest of the interior, it certainly looks like what I’d expect from a classroom in a building like this. There are several rows of desks accompanied by small stools, and at the front and center of the room is a podium, behind of which is a large chalkboard. “Oh? Welcome, visitor!” a mature woman’s voice calls to me once I’ve stepped inside. I spot an adult fuschia-colored mare sitting on her haunches behind a wooden desk, atop of which are multiple folders and writing utensils organized neatly into rows. Her mane is two shades of pink, and rests atop her head in neatly tended curls. For a cutie mark, she has three blooming flowers, each one smiling brightly. Like Rarity’s, I’m assuming that the meaning is symbolic rather than literal. She hardly even blinks at my appearance. “I remember seeing you at the party; I was hoping to talk to you myself.” “Is there anyone who hasn’t heard of me?” I grumble a bit to myself as I approach her. I gently lower the packages of food atop the desk and straighten back up, relieved of the rather bulky burden. “I’m guessing you’re Cheerilee?” “That’s right! I’m the one and only teacher here!” Cheerilee stands up and walks around the desk to approach me, her hoof stretching out as a greeting. I accept her hoof after a moment’s hesitation; as long as I’m on the clock, I’d best keep my attitude professional. She shakes my hand gently and briefly before releasing it. “You must be Seth. I see you brought my packages from the farm.” “That’s right. I’m working for Applejack right now. How do you know my name?” I ask curiously. It makes sense that news of my existence must have spread around the town, but I didn’t think even my name would be included in that. “You being in this town is a big deal. I’m sure you’ve heard, but a lot of our architecture and technology is based on the lost human civilization. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that ponies would be talking about you,” Cheerilee explained, confirming my earlier supposition. This means I shouldn’t be so surprised that ponies will know who I am. “I’d love to talk with you more, but no doubt Applejack will want you back, and I do have to get class started. Thank you for delivering these to me!” “Not at all. If you’ll excuse me,” I dip my head and retreat from the desk, my task complete. “Before you go, I don’t suppose I could could convince you to speak for my class at some point as a special presentation?” Cheerilee calls after me. I pause, glancing back at her. “I’ll be going over what we know of human history in the future, and I think seeing a live human would really drive my lesson home.” I consider the offer. As distasteful as I find both children and public speaking, her reasoning is sound, and I could possibly negotiate some bits out of it if I pressed hard enough. That being said, I’m uncertain where in her curriculum human history would fall. Considering I won’t be staying long in Ponyville, I’m not sure the opportunity would arise in time for it to be of use to me. “I’ll think about it,” is the best I can give her. There’s no use thinking about it now. “If you have further details later on, I’ll listen when I’m not working.” “That’s wonderful!” Despite my ambiguous answer, Cheerilee puts on a bright smile. She moves towards the door along with me, no doubt getting ready to gather all the students. “I’ll make sure to keep you posted. I’ll see you later, Seth.” “No doubt.” My job here done, I move past Cheerilee and head back towards the main road. In the process, I notice that my path will cross Apple Bloom and her two friends, who appear to be in the midst of an argument with two other students. I can’t help but overhear as I approach. “You take that back!” Scootaloo snaps. “Yeah, there ain’t nothing wrong with the farm!” Apple Bloom shoots back. “Please, we all know that he chose you out of ignorance,” one of the two unfamiliar students returns with an irritating air of smugness about her. This one is a filly with a coat of a soft pink and a lavender mane stripped with white. On her head is an expensive looking tiara encrusted with clear gems, and on her flank is a cutie mark identical to the tiara. “I agree, such work is demeaning, especially to someone like him!” the other student, which is also a filly, concurs. This one is colored a delicate silver, with her mane and tail being an even lighter shade of gray. Additionally, she’s wearing a set of bright blue glasses and a necklace made of pearls. She turns and her mouth slightly opens as she catches sight of me. “In fact, Diamond, why don’t you ask him?” “Wait, no! He’s…!” Apple Bloom attempts to warn them. It suddenly dawns on me that their argument involved me in some form or fashion. “What an excellent idea!” Diamond exclaims as she spots me as well. She steps out in front of me, clearly intending to speak with me. I’m forced to come to a halt to avoid tripping over her, an annoyed sigh escaping me. “Excuse me! Can I talk to you for a moment?” “I’d rather you didn’t. I need to get back to work,” I protest, but this only serves to encourage the innocently smiling filly. “That’s convenient! I was actually wanting to talk to you about that!” Diamond revealed. “I’m Diamond Tiara, and this is Silver Spoon. We’ve learned that you’re working on the farm of all places.” “I am. What’s my work have to do with you? What do I have to do with you for that matter?” I grit out. These two rub me the wrong way, and I’ve barely spoken with them for more than a few moments. I can tell from their attitudes and their attire that they’re rather wealthy, and their tone suggests a healthy disdain for both these three fillies and the concept of farmwork. “Don’t you think it’s such a waste for a human such as yourself to work there?” Diamond asks in a voice that reminds me of a salesman attempting to sell their product. “Why not work for my daddy and his company? Being a human and all, I bet he’d take you on immediately. You wouldn’t have to get all dirty, and we’d certainly pay you a lot more.” “Yeah, and you wouldn’t have to hang around with those losers anymore,” Silver Spoon adds. “But...Seth…” Apple Bloom pleads weakly. “Don’t listen to them! They’re…” Scootaloo interjects. “Quiet. I can make my own decisions,” I cut across them firmly. I realize that these two rich fillies are serious, judging from the way that they’re looking at me. I don’t doubt that Diamond Tiara is telling the truth; if I was willing to use my status as a human, I could likely land the job she’s talking about. The option of earning more money does appeal to me as well. Yet, there are two problems with her offer. “Thanks, but I’m fine where I am.” My refusal causes Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon’s jaws to drop in surprise; they must have genuinely believed their offer to be the better one. “I gave my word to Applejack that I would be working until the harvest ended. I don’t make a habit of lying.” Apple Bloom looks at me with wide eyes, surprise evident in her expression as well. A look of relief passes over her, and she gives me an appreciative smile. As for the two rich fillies… “But...how could you turn us down? Why should a human be forced to do simple farmwork?! They can’t possibly afford to pay you as much as we can!” Diamond Tiara demands in shock. “Who cares about your word? Everything would be so much better for you if you worked for my daddy!” “The answer is still no.” Despite my repeated refusals,  I feel a pit forming in my stomach. I believe wholeheartedly in my decision, but the opportunity she’s offering may well be a good one; I’d be able to leave much sooner. That being said...if her family is anything like Diamond, I absolutely will not work for them. Not even if they were to offer me all the bits in the world. “If you’ll excuse me.” I turn and continue on my way out of the schoolyard. Yet, it doesn’t seem like Diamond is willing to let this go. The filly takes one look at the snickering Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle, and her face contorts with rage. “Don’t think I’ll forget this insult! When my daddy hears about this, you bet your tail he’ll make you regret it!” Diamond calls scathingly after me. Her word choice causes me to freeze in place. Her tone of voice and her threats...a sense of deja vu comes over me. A rush of anger overtakes me; I’ve met people like her before… “Is that right?” I turn my head, gazing at her from the corner of one eye. My tone is low and dangerously soft. Diamond’s eyes widen at the sudden change in my demeanor, and she takes a step back when I storm back towards her. “Let me just tell you a little something, brat. I’m not half as stupid as you think I am. It’s obvious that all you want is to be able to say that the world’s only human is working for your dad’s company.” “That’s…” Diamond stammers, but I don’t let her finish. “While that would no doubt be beneficial for your company image, there’s no way in hell I’d work for people like you. You talk down to people, you don’t respect my word, and then you dare to threaten me?” I continue, coming to a stop just in front of her. I kneel down until I’m at eye level with her, the filly visibly quailing before my intense gaze. “Go ahead, tell your father. You’ll quickly find out that not everything will go your way simply because you cry.” Without another word, I straighten back up and at last start on the return trip to the farm, all five of the fillies watching me as I go. ~ On the upper level of the Golden Oaks Library, Twilight sits before a small table, upon which a piece of parchment and a half-filled inkwell rests. The quill with which she intends to write floats noiselessly in the air just in front of her muzzle, where she aimlessly sucks on the tip. Littered on the floor around her are several stacks of books, some of them open. Where there aren’t books are multiple crumpled up wads of parchment, each one containing failed attempts to write what she had thought was going to be a simple letter. “Are you still at it?” Spike emerges from the doorway leading to the lower level, carrying two cups filled to the brim with water. Twilight doesn’t answer, instead focusing on the slew of possible ways she can end this letter. She only notices Spike’s presence when he sets down one of the cups on the table beside her letter. “Twilight, you’ve been at this practically all day. You should take a break.” “Oh, thanks,” Twilight turns to look at him with a sheepish smile, spitting out the quill. She places it neatly on the table and drinks from the cup, finding its contents to be pleasantly cold. She heaves a sigh, replacing the cup. “I can’t, Spike. I’m in the midst of what could be my hardest friendship lesson yet. Nothing in my notes even comes close to this kind of problem.” “I know, that’s why you’ve been talking to the princess about it, right?” Spike restates. “You two still haven’t been able to figure it out?” “The princess is giving me very good advice, but I don’t think it applies here. All of her advice assumes that he innately wants to make friends, when he’s stated repeatedly that he doesn’t. Seth is a human; for all I know, he could be emotionally wired differently from the rest of us,” Twilight explains to her assistant. “Why don’t you tell her that?” Spike sensibly suggests. “I am now. I don’t think there’s any other choice here. I want to respect Seth’s privacy, but I want to help him, and I can’t do that without help,” Twilight responds in a resigned voice. She dips the quill into the inkwell and returns it to the parchment, neatly transcribing the remainder of her letter to the princess. “I hope he won’t be too angry with me.” “Well, he doesn’t need to find out,” Spike remarks uncomfortably. “You saw him at the party. I don’t want you to deal with that again.” “Aw, thanks,” Twilight kisses the little dragon’s head briefly before returning to the letter. She at last finishes the last line. With a quick signature, she rolls up the parchment and seals it, and then she floats it over to Spike, who obediently engulfs it in a gout of magical flame. “I really hope I didn’t just make a big mistake.” That very same letter, a few seconds later, materialized out of the air in front of a certain solar princess, who caught it in her magical grip instinctively. The large white mare with her multicolored, flowing mane, had been walking through the lavishly decorated hallways of her castle on her way to her next appointment. She slowly unrolled the parchment, her face taking on a concerned expression. This would mark the fifth letter Twilight had sent her on this subject; she is a bright student, so her seeming inability to grasp her advice made little sense to the Diarch...unless Twilight was hiding something from her. “Princess Celestia?” One of the guards that had been tasked to accompany her prompted her curiously, wondering why she is suddenly standing still. Celestia didn’t answer, the princess focusing on reading the letter in front of her. Her suspicions are soon confirmed; there was indeed something that Twilight had kept from her. Her eyes widened with shock. She blinked several times, just in case she had misread Twilight’s letter. Yet, it had been no mistake. Twilight’s letter reveals more about her problematic friend, including his species: human. “I have new orders for the two of you,” Celestia suddenly spoke, addressing the two guards that flanked her on either side. “Heed them well.” “We are at your disposal, your Highness,” the guards chorused in unison. “Firm Defense, run ahead to my former destination. Let the good duke know that I must unfortunately push back our meeting to a later date,” Celestia orders, and the named guard saluted and ran in the indicated direction. She turned to the other. “As for you, wake my sister and tell her to meet me in my chambers.” “What should I tell her?” the guard asks, unable to hide his curiosity. “Tell her… our precursors aren’t quite as extinct as we believed.” Celestia turned away from him, walking purposely in the opposite direction. Her expression was stern, her lips set into a firm line. Her next words were spoken in a whisper such that only she could hear. “This evening just got a lot more interesting.”