The morning sun was already well over the horizon and climbing into the sky as Starlight Glimmer lay dozing in its warmth. She drifted in a wonderful place between sleep and waking, where thoughts would half form before spinning away back to oblivion. The place where dreams lingered, before daylight finally chased them away. It felt comfortable and safe, where even monsters from the past could not reach her. There was nothing she wanted more at that moment than to be left to dream the day away, but a gentle hoof upon her shoulder finally shook her awake.
“Starlight…” she heard Twilight calling, softly. “Starlight, wake up.”
Starlight stirred, then yawned and sat up, blinking her eyes as they adjusted to the golden light. Twilight stood by her bedside, looming over her. There was a smile on her face that was odd in a way that Starlight couldn’t quite put her nose on, as if she was hiding some private joke that was fairly bursting to get out. “Good morning,” she said brightly.
“Morning.” Confusion crept onto Starlight’s face. “Why do you look so big?”
Twilight chuckled. “Probably because you’re so little now.” She playfully tapped Starlight’s forehead with her hoof. “And you’re clearly not totally awake yet, are you?”
Shaking the sleep from her head, the previous day’s events came back to her. Starlight held up her own forelegs and saw her now tiny hooves. That’s right, she thought. Nine years old for the next couple of days. Which meant today was Field Day. Today, they’d see if Twilight and Trixie’s plan would work. Then she remembered what else had happened the night before. She turned to look at her friend, still blissfully asleep next to her.
Not Trixie, thought Starlight. Lulamoon. She’d glimpsed something heretofore unseen in her friend. She’d be spending the day with someone who was both familiar and new to her. Someone who apparently shared Trixie’s sleeping habits, because she showed no signs of waking, even now. Starlight shook her gently.
“Hey,” she said softly. “Time to get up, sleepyhead.” Lula grumbled and burrowed deeper into her pillow. Starlight shook her a bit harder. “Come on, we need to get ready!” The tiny blue unicorn shrugged her away and kicked at her.
“I don’t wanna go to school!” she whined.
Twilight brought her hoof to her mouth to stifle a giggle. Losing patience, Starlight leaned over and spoke into her companion’s ear. “Okay, but then you won’t get any cupcakes when it’s over.” Lulamoon’s eyes snapped open as she sat bolt upright, nearly knocking Starlight off the bed.
“I want cupcakes!” she blurted out, then looked around. “Wait… What’s going on, again?” she asked.
“Field Day,” Starlight replied, barely hoisting herself back to safety with Twilight’s help. “Time to spend the day with the local grade schoolers.” She poked Lula in the side. “You are nearly impossible to wake up, you know that?”
“I had a long day yesterday,” Lula protested. She finally noticed Twilight. “Good morning. Are we late?”
“No,” replied Twilight. “It’s almost seven. We need to report to the school field by eight-thirty, so there’s plenty of time.” Twilight walked to the door, then looked back. “Get washed up and meet me in the kitchen. Spike’s getting breakfast ready.” She brought her hoof to her mouth as if trying to hide the broad smile she wore, then to her breast as she sighed. Shaking her head, she trotted out to the hall as the two little unicorns watched.
There was a long silence before Lulamoon spoke. “Okay,” she said. “What was that all about?”
“What?” Starlight replied.
“The smile, the hoof on the heart thing. She looks like…” Lula searched for the words. “Like she just found a book called The Ten Most Heartwarming Stories Ever and then read every one.” She paused. “Twice.”
“I dunno,” said Starlight as she climbed down to the floor. “It’s Twilight. She gets emotional over everything.” She laughed to herself. “I once saw her shopping for greeting cards and she started crying while reading them.”
Lula’s eyes widened. “No!” she said in disbelief. Starlight nodded her head vigorously, holding her right foreleg over her heart.
“Filly Guides honor, I swear it’s true.”
“Wow…” Lula looked at the door where Twilight had stood. “Stupidly sincere doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
“What was that?” asked Starlight.
“Nothing.” Lulamoon climbed down to the floor. “We’d better get ready. I’ll go to my room for my stuff.”
“Okay, meet you back here in a few minutes.”
The now shrunken stage magician trotted out the door, leaving Starlight alone for the first time since the previous night. Everything in the room seemed too big for her now. The bed. The bureau. She could barely even see herself in the mirror on top of it. Not for the first time, she wondered if they weren’t about to make a terrible mistake.
True, she’d been the one to start all this by writing this age illusion spell, but that had been for Sunburst to see. She’d hoped that he’d be impressed by her technique, as well as overcome by nostalgia for the childhood they’d shared. But that would have been for the two of them alone. This… This was different. This would be going out and facing the world as a child.
She sighed. Deep down, she suspected that Twilight was right. That, at her core, she still faced the world as a child, and had simply gotten very good at hiding it. No wonder Trixie had seen the truth first; she and Starlight both wore masks with which they hid themselves from others. Well, Lulamoon had taken off her mask, and now it was time for her to follow suit.
She needed to face her fears and finally free herself from her past. Only then would she ever be able to find peace. First, though, she needed to wash up and fix her hair.
Fifteen minutes later, Lulamoon stood next to Starlight in her room in front of a full length mirror as Starlight carefully parted her mane into bunches and tied them back with her magic. She was utterly absorbed in the task, having long since fallen out of practice. She bit her lip in concentration as she finished up, the hair ties knotted into pretty little bows, then stepped back to admire her work. Lula, meanwhile, simply brushed her mane into her usual curly flip, then floated her hairbrush to the top of the now oversized bureau. The two adults turned children sat down on their haunches and gazed at their reflections in silence. It was Starlight who finally spoke first.
“So, there we are. The new kids in town.”
“Yeah,” Lula replied. “It almost doesn’t seem like it’s really me in there.” She turned to her friend. “Starlight, this spell of yours… It only changes how we look, right? Not how we think?”
“That’s the whole idea behind it. Why?”
“Well…” Lulamoon turned back to her reflection, a shadow of concern crossing her face. “Ever since you cast it yesterday, I’ve been thinking things that I never normally would. I feel like…” She trailed off, not wanting to complete the thought, but Starlight suspected what she meant.
“Like you really are a little kid?” Starlight asked.
“Exactly!” Lula exclaimed. “Just being this small again is making me feel things I haven’t felt since I actually was nine. And now I feel like…” She turned back to the mirror and studied the tiny unicorn looking back at her. “Like I’m about to go to a new school, and the teacher’s going to make me stand up in front and introduce myself.”
Starlight winced at the thought. “Oh, I hated that!” she said. “It’s like everyone in the room is judging you.”
Lulamoon nodded. “And you’re all alone up there and don’t know what to say, and you just know that no one will ever want to sit with you at lunch!”
“Yeah, that’s the worst.” Starlight looked through the mirror and far back through the years. “No one ever really sat with me,” she said. She lapsed back into silence, then let out a surprised yelp as Lula suddenly grabbed onto her from behind, throwing her forelegs around Starlight and pressing her head over her friend’s shoulder and next to hers.
“Well!” she declared with loud confidence, “you won’t be alone in front of the kids this time! I’m your wingpony! I’m here to help you fly!” She leaned in against Starlight’s back, held out her forelegs to each side and began flapping them. “See? I’m giving you wings!”
“I don’t think that’s what ‘wingpony’ means—”
“Wi-i-ings…” Lula stage whispered, flapping even harder. “And super spe-e-ed…”
Starlight snorted with laughter, and soon Lulamoon joined in as well, bringing her waving forelegs back down to hang onto Starlight’s back as the two fillies collapsed into helpless giggling. She still held on after they’d regained their composure, the two friends looking at their reflections, their faces cheek to cheek.
“You know what I see in there?” Lula softly asked.
“What?”
“The two most popular new kids in school,” she said with a smile. “The ones all the fillies will want to sit with at lunch.”
Starlight chuckled. “And I suppose all the little colts will want to be our boyfriends?”
“Oh, naturally! We’re irresistible, after all. And we’ll be the first they pick for teams at recess!”
Starlight’s expression turned distant as she imagined the sort of life Lula was describing. A childhood full of friends and popularity, as fantastic to her as something from a fairy tale. “And after school, we’ll be invited over everyone’s houses to play,” she murmured to herself. “And on our birthdays, every kid in town will want to come…”
Lulamoon laughed, imagining their imminent takeover of the elementary school social scene, then realized that her friend wasn’t laughing at all. She climbed down from Starlight’s back, then gently brought a forehoof to her companion’s chin and turned her head to face her. “Hey,” she said gently. “It’s going to be fine. Just playing with some kids for the day.”
Starlight answered with a crooked smile. “I know it shouldn’t matter,” she said. “I know it’s just some games, but still…” She looked at the floor a moment, sighed, then faced Lula again. “I just hope the other kids will like me.”
Lulamoon touched her hoof to Starlight’s chest. She understood that fear. It was the prayer that every new kid whispered to herself just before standing in front of the class. “Of course they’ll like you,” she replied. “How could they not?”
The aroma of cinnamon and brown sugar had begun wafting up from downstairs. “Are you two ready yet?” Twilight called from the bottom of the stairs. “Your breakfast is getting cold!”
“Come on,” said Lulamoon as she turned toward the door. “Before Mom starts yelling at us.” Starlight snorted a laugh and followed behind.
Twilight and Spike were already waiting in their seats as the girls took their places at the kitchen table. Spike couldn’t help but giggle when he saw that Lulamoon’s head was now nose-level with the tabletop, drawing a hurt look from her in response. Twilight only smiled, then turned to her scaly assistant.
“Spike, could you run to the library and get my Unabridged Tales of Maretonia, please?”
“Um, sure,” he replied, looking puzzled as he left his seat. “What do you need that for?”
“It’s for Trixie.”
Spike raised a brow ridge questioningly and turned to leave when Lula cleared her throat. “Twilight,” she began. “May I ask a favor?”
“Of course. What is it?”
“Well,” she said as she stood, bracing her forelegs onto the tabletop in order to face the princess, “while I’m like this, could you not call me Trixie, please?”
Twilight frowned. “You’re not still worried about others recognizing you, are you?”
“It’s not really that, just… Call me Lulamoon instead, okay? Or just Lula, for short.”
Twilight looked at Spike, who simply shrugged and departed to fetch the requested book. “Okay, fine with me, I guess,” she said, turning back to the little unicorn. “Lulamoon, huh?” She repeated the name as though tasting a new food. “That’s cute. I like it.”
“Thanks,” Lula replied. Twilight began levitating bowls of steaming hot oatmeal in front of them while they waited for Spike. He returned only a few moments later, struggling with an enormous tome. “I’ve got the book, Twilight,” he wheezed as he staggered back toward the table. “Where do you want it?”
“Put it where Lulamoon is sitting. Lula, could you move, please?”
Spike heaved the heavy book into Lula’s place as she stepped away, then returned to his own. She eyed the thick volume suspiciously. “Am I supposed to read something in this to give me advice for the coming day?” she asked.
“No,” replied Twilight. “You’re supposed to sit on it so that you can eat your breakfast.”
“Oh.” Lula sighed as she climbed onto her makeshift booster seat. She began eating her meal, grumbling to herself for needing special treatment at the table. Starlight leaned over. “It’s not so bad,” she whispered. “At least it’s not a high chair.” Glaring, Lula shoved her away, then pouted.
They ate silently for a few moments before Twilight spoke. “So, excited about today?”
“Excited. Nervous. Kind of scared,” Starlight replied. She levitated a spoon dripping with the hot cereal into her mouth, then returned it to her bowl and looked for the bowl of brown sugar on the table. She floated it over and began measuring out a few spoonfuls into her oatmeal. “Lula and I were just wondering if the other kids will like us.” She replaced the sugar on the table and began idly stirring her bowl. “It’s silly how worried I am about that.”
“It’s not silly at all. It’s totally normal.” Twilight paused to spoon some of her own food into her mouth. “It’s also exactly why we’re doing this. And I think you’ll both do fine.” As she returned to eating, she again looked across the table at her young companions, and brought her hoof to her mouth to cover her smile. Lulamoon noticed it, frowned, then could finally stand it no longer.
“What’s going on?” she demanded.
Twilight tried to play innocent. “What do you mean?”
“You!” said Lula, standing atop the book to bring herself eye level with her. “You keep looking at us and grinning like a fool! What gives?!”
Twilight wiped the smile from her face. “Nothing gives,” she replied, making herself stony-faced. The effort collapsed after only a moment, drawing laughter from Starlight. Twilight was a genius at many things, she thought, but she carried her heart on her forehead. Hiding her feelings was nearly impossible for her. Twilight’s huge grin returned as she blushed.
“It’s you two,” she explained. “It’s what I saw when I came to wake you up.”
“What did you see?” Starlight asked, tilting her head.
Twilight bit her lip, looking as though she was about to burst with glee. “I came in and saw you two asleep together,” she began. “So, I thought ‘Oh, that’s convenient. I can wake them both up at the same time.’ And then when I got closer, I saw it.” She paused, almost squealing to herself at the memory. Starlight and Lula looked nervously at each other.
“I saw how you were both cuddling together in your sleep,” Twilight blurted out. “Starlight, you had your forelegs wrapped around her like you were trying to protect her from something, and Lula was burrowed into you, and you both had these sweet little smiles on your faces, and it was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my life, and… And…” Twilight paused her rambling. “And I just dropped dead right there and you’re talking to my ghost now.”
Twilight’s grin threatened to split her face in half as the two fillies looked uncomfortably around the room, trying not to look at her or each other. Lula blushed while Starlight rubbed the back of her head in embarrassment. A terrible, awkward silence fell across the table.
“I wish I’d had a camera,” Twilight finally said.
“I’m kinda glad you didn’t,” Starlight mumbled to herself.
Twilight’s eyes suddenly widened. “A camera!” she exclaimed. “We need a camera for today!”
“We really don’t,” replied Starlight, desperation in her voice.
“We do! Excuse me!” Twilight began shoveling oatmeal into her mouth in the most unprincesslike way imaginable, then wiped her face with her foreleg. “You two, finish up and meet me by the front door. Spike, you clear the dishes when you’re all done. I’ll be down in a little while!” Twilight dashed through the kitchen door, headed for the stairs.
“Honestly, you don’t have to bother—” Lula began.
“We can make a photo album from this!” Twilight gleefully called back.
The two fillies and baby dragon stared silently at the door, then resumed eating. After a few more spoonfuls, Lulamoon turned to Starlight. “Okay,” she said slowly. “Here’s the plan. If she tries dressing us up, we kick her in the shins and then run for it. Deal?”
Starlight swallowed another spoonful of oatmeal, keeping her gaze fixed on the doorway. “Deal,” she replied.
It was nearly 8 o’clock when Starlight and the others were all gathered in the castle entryway. Hooves had been washed, dishes cleared, and they were ready to leave for Ponyville elementary school. Twilight had made her reappearance, now sporting two fully-packed saddlebags and a camera bag that levitated in the air next to her. She passed it over to Spike.
“Here you go, Spike,” she said. “You get to be the official cameraman for today.”
“Yes!” he exclaimed, pumping the air with his clawed fist. His eyes suddenly widened. “Wait! I’ll need—”
“And here’s your reporter hat,” Twilight continued, floating a gray fedora onto his head, a card reading “press” held in its band.
Lulamoon leaned over to Starlight to whisper in her ear. “What’s with the hat?” she asked, nodding toward Spike.
Starlight leaned in to answer. “He really likes hats,” she explained. “He’s got a ton of them he likes to wear, for all occasions.” Lula snorted.
“Perfect!” Spike said, looking smug as he opened the bag and began loading the camera with film. As he fussed with it, Twilight removed the bags she was carrying and did a last minute check of their contents. Lula and Starlight moved closer, curious to see what she had.
“Do you really need so much stuff just to cheer for us?” Starlight asked as she peered into one.
Twilight nodded. “Cheerilee gave me a list of things parents are supposed to bring. That’s why I was up late last night. I was getting this all ready and packed up.”
Lula glanced sidelong at Starlight, an eyebrow arched. “Oh, she’s our parent now, huh?” she whispered. “Joy.” Starlight shushed her.
Twilight began ticking off the contents of one. “Lunches for all of us. I hope you like daisy and tomato sandwiches. I got some really nice nutty bread from the bakery on the way home yesterday.” Her horn flared as she rummaged a bit deeper down. “Bottles of apple juice, courtesy of Applejack. Fresh apples for snacks, also courtesy of Applejack.” She brought out a small jar. “Some honey, for dipping the apples in, because that’s what my mom always brought when she took snacks for me. A blanket to sit on. And… Oh! Almost forgot!”
Twilight floated a small bottle from the other bag and opened it, squeezing some cream onto her forehoof. She leaned forward and dabbed a bit on Starlight’s and Lula’s noses and began spreading it around. Lulamoon immediately wrinkled up her nose and pulled away, rubbing at it. “What did you just put on us?!” she demanded.
“Sunblock,” said Twilight. “You’re going to be out in the sun all day. You don’t want to get burned, do you?”
“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Lula growled. “Can we go now?”
Her tiny horn glowed as she opened the front door and scampered outside. Starlight began to follow, then stopped. There’d be no turning back once she stepped over the threshold, and she found herself once again filled with doubts. Her heart began to pound as her breathing quickened, and then as if by magic, Twilight was standing at her side.
“That last step’s the hardest one, huh?” she said.
Starlight kept her gaze fixed straight ahead, looking out the door. Lulamoon had dashed up the walkway leading toward town, and was now impatiently motioning for them to join her. “There is nothing for me to be scared of,” Starlight said quietly. “I’m just going to meet some children. I am an adult.” Even as she said it, Starlight wondered who she was trying to convince: Twilight, or herself. She turned and looked up at her mentor.
“Okay,” said Twilight. “That was big Starlight talking. What does little Starlight say?”
Starlight took a deep breath. “Little Starlight thinks I should turn around right now and run back upstairs. She wants to jump back in bed for the rest of the day and pull the blankets over her head.”
Twilight nodded, then sat down on her haunches, leaning down till she was eye level with the little purplish-pink unicorn. “Is she afraid of getting hurt?” Starlight opened her mouth to answer, but could only nod yes.
Twilight was silent, wondering how to break the stalemate, until the answer became clear. She sat up, then reached forward and hugged Starlight close. There was a moment of resistance, then Starlight relaxed, dropping to her haunches as well. Slowly, in her teacher’s warm embrace, the fear began to leave her.
“I know you’ve been hurt before,” Twilight said softly. “I know how scary it is to open yourself up to others. But you won’t be alone out there.” She gently brought a hoof to Starlight’s chin and tilted her head up. “You’ll have me and Spike, cheering for you.” Twilight then pointed out the door. “And you’ll have Trixie there, who I think is going to leave without us in another minute.”
“Lulamoon,” replied Starlight. “Call her Lulamoon.”
Twilight blushed. “Right. Sorry, I forgot.” She ruffled Starlight’s hair, then climbed to her feet. “Maybe, just for today and tomorrow, don’t think of yourself as big Starlight or little Starlight. Just be Starlight. Be scared, but be strong, too. Go out and face what you’re afraid of, and then you’ll see.”
Starlight tilted her head. “See what?” she asked as she stood.
“You’ll know it when you see it,” replied Twilight. She nudged her student forward. “Now, get going! You’ve got ponies to meet and races to run!” Starlight took a deep breath, then ran to join Lulamoon while Twilight and Spike locked the front door.
“What, did Mommy have to wipe your nose and help you go potty before we left?” Lulamoon smirked.
Starlight glared her. “Don’t be mean! This is hard for me!” she shot back.
Lula prepared to launch a retort, then reconsidered. “Sorry, it’s just… You both are just…” She finally let out an exasperated sigh. “C’mon, let’s just get going!” She began trotting out to the street as Starlight hurried after her. She looked back to make sure that Twilight and Spike were following them, then ran to catch up with Lula.
“We’re just what?” Starlight demanded as she fell into a trot at her friend’s side.
“Nothing! Never mind,” Lula replied. They were approaching the northern edge of Ponyville, and the town’s wood beam and plaster buildings grew more numerous. The school lay on the southwest edge of town, but Ponyville was small, and the walk wouldn’t take long. The streets were already filling with adults headed to work, but Starlight noticed that a great many school age foals and their families were also headed in the same general direction. Ponyville’s First Annual Field Day looked like it was attracting quite a crowd.
Starlight and Lulamoon walked on in silence before Lula turned to speak. “If I hadn’t come over yesterday and set this ball rolling, what would you be doing today?”
“Probably just our usual routine,” Starlight replied. “Twilight would be doing her princess stuff, I’d be studying magic. Spike would probably be helping Twilight.”
Lulamoon cocked her head. “Princess stuff?” she asked. “Like what?”
“Well…” Starlight considered the question as they made a right turn and headed toward Sugarcube Corner. What did Twilight do all day? “It seems to involve writing lots of paperwork. There is a surprising amount of paperwork involved with being a princess, apparently.”
Lula raised an eyebrow. “Really? Doesn’t she have… You know, other ponies to do that?”
“Not her,” Starlight replied. “She seems to be sending letters off to everyone these days. After that whole attempted invasion a couple of moons back, she’s gotten it into her head that Equestrian diplomacy needs to step up its game. She wants to make sure that no more Storm Kings show up out of nowhere.”
Lulamoon shuddered at his mention. She and Starlight had barely managed to avoid getting caught up in that mess, when Canterlot had been occupied for several days. Fortunately, Twilight and her friends had managed to save the day. It was all over by the time she and Starlight had emerged from hiding. As Starlight described their day, something occurred to Lula.
“So, wait,” she broke in. “You’re saying that Twilight just dropped everything to do this for you?”
Starlight shrugged. “I guess,” she replied. “I never thought about it. She just thinks this is really important.”
“No,” said Lula with an impish grin. “She thinks you’re really important.”
Starlight knew she was being teased. “What’s that supposed to mean?!” she sputtered.
Lulamoon stopped short, then looked her friend up and down. “Oh, my goodness,” she said in amazement. “You really don’t know what I mean, do you?” She resumed her trot, chuckling to herself as she shook her head. Confused and irritated, Starlight followed.
“So what if Twilight cares about me,” she said as she caught up with Lula. “She’s my teacher. And my friend.”
“I’ve had teachers before,” Lula replied. “I only had one that even came close to the way Twilight cares about you.”
“And my friend,” Starlight reminded her.
Lulamoon snorted. “Yeah, a friend. Tell me something: where do you live?”
“In the castle, of course,” Starlight replied, bewilderment in her voice.
“What does she charge you for rent?” Lula pressed as they rounded a corner.
They’d reached the smaller town square, with its fountain and cluster of shops. Starlight could just make out the gingerbread roof facade of Sugarcube Corner, the town’s cake shop, as they made a right and headed for the bridge leading to Ponyville Elementary. She looked back to see Twilight and Spike pausing a moment to look down one of the streets. She vaguely remembered hearing that this was near where the old town library had stood. It had been their home until it was destroyed in one of the many attacks the town had suffered, and they always seemed to get a little nostalgic around here.
Starlight turned back to Lulamoon. “She doesn’t charge me anything. She has lots of spare rooms.”
“Uh-huh,” nodded her friend. “Do you ever, I don’t know, buy food or anything for her?”
“Of course not,” Starlight replied. “She’s a princess. She gets money from Canterlot to maintain the castle.”
“And tell me, what do you do for a living, Starlight?”
“Nothing. I’m her student. She gives me a stipend every week.”
“Oh, a stipend,” Lula laughed. “That’s a fancy word for an allowance, isn’t it? And how are you still her student? I thought you graduated last year.”
The bridge was finally in sight. The crowd had grown fairly thick here, and a line of adults and foals were crossing the mill brook and headed for the school. As the pedestrian traffic snarled up, Starlight and Lulamoon waited for Twilight and Spike to rejoin them.
“What are you getting at?” demanded Starlight. “What, are you jealous or something?”
Lulamoon silently looked at her, and sighed. “Maybe I am,” she said. “And maybe I can’t believe that you won’t admit what she is to you.”
“And what’s that?!”
Lula rolled her eyes. “Okay, let’s go through this: she gives you free room and board, gives you a weekly allowance, hugs you when you’re scared, pats you on the head to make you feel better, and will clear her whole schedule just to take you to a kids’ sports day so she can cheer for you. What does that sound like to you?”
Starlight was silent a moment before she stammered out her answer.
“A really good teacher and friend?”
Lulamoon boggled at her. “Honestly, you can be the dumbest genius sometimes.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?!”
“Nothing, nothing,” Lula replied. “Oh, look!” she said brightly. “Here comes Mommy and Little Brother!”
Twilight and Spike made their way through the crowd, wishing passersby good morning. She was a longtime resident and most of the town knew her from when she was just the gawky young unicorn from Canterlot who liked to volunteer for everything. Still, she was royalty, and she had her fans. The town’s children loved her, and she enjoyed greeting them most of all. In a crowd of school kids, the going was slow. At last, they caught up with their small companions.
“Big crowd for this, huh?” said Twilight, wiping some sweat beading on her forehead as she looked up at the cloudless sky. “The pegasi really whipped up a nice summer day for us.” She surveyed the crowd in front of them as they slowly squeezed themselves across the narrow bridge over the mill brook. The next closest bridge was a few furlongs down river, further away from the school, and no one seemed willing to walk to it.
“This is taking forever,” Lula moaned. “We don’t have to wait, surely!”
“Oh, no,” said Twilight, annoyed at the implication. “I am not going to abuse my title and order anypony to move for us! That’s not how I do things! We can wait.”
“I didn’t mean that!” Lula replied. “Although that would probably be the easiest thing to do,” she grumbled. “No, I meant we can all teleport, right? And we’re outside now, so there’s no walls to worry about. Come on!” She bent her head down and closed her eyes as her horn began to glow. Starlight gasped as she realized what was happening. “Lula, no!” she shouted. Without even thinking, she raised a foreleg and smacked her friend’s horn.
Almost instantly, the mana field forming around it flickered and dissipated. Lulamoon staggered backwards onto her rump, grabbing her head in pain. “What’s the big idea?!” she gasped, massaging her forehead.
“Lula, whatever you do, don’t try to teleport!” Starlight exclaimed. “We’ve got an illusion and a transfiguration spell cast on us both!”
“So?!” she groaned. “What’s that got to do with smacking me in the face?!”
Twilight sat down to examine her. “It means you don’t have a real sense of your own body right now,” she explained. “Teleportation depends on you knowing where all your parts are, so you bring everything with you when you do it.” She reached down and moved Lula’s hooves a bit wider apart. “Try rubbing these spots here, okay?”
Lula did as instructed. “Oh, that’s much better,” she said as the pain began to fade. She looked up at Twilight. “What would have happened if I’d done it?”
“Well, you might have gotten across the bridge, but left pieces of yourself on this side,” Twilight explained.
Lula shivered, then looked at Starlight. “Is there any part of teleportation that doesn’t involve the risk of cutting myself in half or ripping myself apart?” Starlight and Twilight both turned to each other, then back to Lulamoon and shook their heads. The tiny blue unicorn groaned. “Fine!” she said. “I’ll wait my turn!”
The wait wasn’t too long, and soon they were across the brook. Turning left, they followed the crowd to the red schoolhouse that lay on the edge of town. The school’s field was fairly small, but neighbors had helpfully allowed the use of their land for the day. Starlight and the others could see children and adults milling about in the confusion that typically preceded large events like this. Twilight glanced around, searching for something.
“Ah!” she exclaimed. “There’s the check-in table. We need to go there first.”
At one of the schoolyard picnic tables stood a magenta earth pony with green eyes. Cheerilee was the town’s only elementary school teacher, and Twilight’s twin loves of school and volunteering had led to a fast friendship with her soon after the young unicorn had moved to Ponyville. She was pretty and an enthusiastic teacher. Her students all loved her.
Catching sight of the princess and her entourage, Cheerilee waved them over. “Good morning, Twilight,” she said brightly as they approached. She looked down at Starlight and Lulamoon. “And these are the, um, new girls, I take it?”
“Yes,” Twilight replied, indicating each as she introduced them. “Starlight and Lulamoon.”
Cheerilee frowned. “I thought you said it was Starlight and Trixie—”
Twilight cleared her throat as she nervously interrupted. “Little mix-up on one of the names.” She nodded toward Lula. “It’s Lulamoon.”
Cheerilee shrugged, made a correction on her list, then turned to the girls.
“Okay, glad to have to both joining us today. Before you go off to your team, I need to go over something with you.” She leaned closer and motioned for them to huddle in. “Now,” she said quietly. “I realize that you aren’t like the other children who will be competing, so I need to make something extra clear.” She looked around the make certain no one was eavesdropping, then continued. “To make these games fair, we’re restricting everyone to legs only. No wings for pegasi, and no magic for unicorns. Everyone’s an earth pony for today, all right?”
The girls both nodded. Cheerilee continued.
“This is important, especially for you two, because your magic is much stronger than any of the other children here. If either one of you tries to use it to help your team win, you’re going to get your team disqualified.” She glanced at Twilight. “Now, Twilight assured me that there’d be no trouble, so please… Please, for the sake of the other children you’ll be playing with, be careful. Okay?”
“I promise,” said Starlight. She looked over at Lula, who seemed to be eyeing the snack table. Twilight cleared her throat loudly, several times, until the little blue eating machine finally noticed.
“I promise, too. I’m here for the free cupcakes, not to win,” she said.
“Oh,” said Cheerilee as she walked back to the table, “I’m sure the rest of your team will appreciate your enthusiasm.” She bent down and began rummaging through a cardboard box under the table, emerging with two yellow ball caps in her mouth. She trotted over and placed them on their heads. “There you go, you are both now officially on Cherry Team.”
Starlight peered at Lula’s cap, seeing a patch with two cherries sewn onto it. Spike eyed the cap enviously. “You get hats, too?” he said. “Lucky!”
Twilight bent down to whisper in his ear. “I’ll see if they have any extras.”
“There are six teams total,” Cheerilee explained. “Nine children per team. Just look for the sign with your fruit on it and meet your teammates. Once you’ve all settled in, you’ll meet your team coach, and they’ll explain all the details.” She looked over at Twilight. “You’re sure this will be all right?”
“It’ll be fine, I promise,” Twilight replied. “And thanks. I owe you for this.”
Cheerilee laughed. “And I’ve lost count of what I owe to you.” She turned back to the girls. “I hope you both have lots of fun. To be honest, I’m a little jealous. Maybe when this is over, I’ll want to try this out for a weekend, too.”
“Oh,” said Lulamoon, “do you also have a whole bunch of unresolved issues from your childhood?”
“Okay, hey! Why don’t we find your team now?” said Twilight as she hustled them away, a bead of nervous sweat forming on her forehead. As they walked toward the waiting areas for the various teams, Twilight lowered her head and motioned to the girls to come closer. “I may not have told Cheerilee all the details about why we’re doing this,” she said quietly. “It seemed like the prudent thing to do.”
“Good call,” Starlight whispered to Lula. “I’d be nervous about having me participate, too.”
“You stop that talk right now!” Lula shot back. “We are both great, powerful, irresistible, and adorable! Just you watch!”
Starlight laughed and then looked at the others: Twilight, over prepared as usual and fretting over details. Lulamoon, determined to keep her positive. And Spike, ready to document it all while offering counsel to the neurotic unicorns in his life. Whatever happened today, she was glad this group was with her.
They walked along through the crowd of adults and children, past signs painted with different fruits. Apple. Pear. Peach. Berry. Orange. And finally a sign with two cherries. They had found their team. Starlight and the others stood on the fringe of the area, surveying the small group that were already waiting. Taking a deep breath, she turned to Twilight.
“I think this is where we go in alone,” she said.
Twilight nodded, then caressed Starlight’s cheek. “Have fun,” she said. “And just try to help your team as best you can.” She gazed at her little student, then suddenly opened her saddlebag and brought out the little bottle from before, dabbing a bit more of the sunscreen on Starlight’s nose. “Just to be safe,” she said. She then looked questioningly at Lula, who sighed and stepped forward, offering her nose as well.
“I suppose it couldn’t hurt,” she mumbled as Twilight dabbed a bit on.
“Good luck, you two,” said Twilight as she put the bottle away. “I’ll be cheering for you both.”
“And I’ll be taking pictures!” added Spike. He suddenly stopped and held a up a claw finger, as though motioning for the others to give him a moment. As they watched, he let loose an enormous belch of green flame, which resolved itself into a ribbon-tied scroll. Spike caught the scroll neatly as it fell and presented it to Twilight. “You’ve got mail,” he said.
Twilight’s horn glowed as she took the scroll from the little dragon and opened it to read. She nodded to herself, then rolled it back up. “Well, I know what I’m doing tomorrow,” she said as she tucked it into one of her bags.
“Anything wrong?” Starlight asked.
“No, just an answer to a letter I sent yesterday. I’ll need to pop over to Canterlot tomorrow for a little while, though. Anyway, we’d better get going.”
With a final glance, Twilight and Spike walked away to stand with the parents. The girls looked at each other, nodded, then turned and entered the team area.
“So,” said Lulamoon as she looked around, “know anyone here, Starlight?”
“Why would you think I’d know anyone?”
“I don’t know,” Lula replied. “You live here. You’re more likely to know the local kids than me. Aside from those two idiot colts that always follow me around.”
“Yeah, well, believe it or not, I don’t normally socialize with school kids.” As Starlight looked around, her stomach began to knot. There seemed to be children everywhere, shouting, laughing, a few crying. They all belonged here. They all had a place. All except her.
And why would she have a place, a voice whispered inside her brain. She would always be the new kid, forever the outsider. Why would they ever accept a freak like her? No one ever had, not even her own—
Starlight pushed the thought away, stuffing it deep back down inside her. Deep in the past, where the monsters were all locked away. You’re wrong, she thought. I have Twilight and Lulamoon and Spike. They accept me, they care about me. But even as she desperately fought to hold the monsters at bay, a familiar sensation began to take hold.
Stories will sometimes talk about going numb with fear. What most ponies lucky enough to never experience it don’t realize is how accurate a description it is. Panic isn’t simply a state of mind. It is a raw, visceral, physical sickness. She felt her heart racing, her breathing growing shallow and quick, and a dull tingling in her chest that began to spread. She felt like she was going to die.
“This was a mistake,” she said as she felt the attack take control. “This is crazy. I don’t belong here! I should go. I think… I think…!”
And then suddenly she saw them. Two young earth pony fillies, one pink with a round, friendly face, the other white with a fluorescent-striped mane. Starlight froze, then shook her head as if to clear her eyes. The panic began to subside, replaced by a sudden feeling of relief. Could anypony possibly be as lucky as she was at that moment?
“Those two girls over there...” Starlight turned to her friend. “I think I know them.”