//------------------------------// // 1. Trade Day // Story: Out of Love // by Carapace //------------------------------// The young mare staring back at her in the mirror had changed much over the past several years. For the better, Sure Stroke should like to think. Gone was the foal fat which once filled her cheeks. The little pudge in her belly had shrunken, chased away by years of running and playing in the forest with her friends and boyfriend when they managed to convince her to put away her sketchpad and tug her out from under her favorite tree. She stood head and shoulders over her dresser, enough that she could simply reach over and pluck one of her mane ties out of the waiting cup rather than having to rear up on her hind legs to peer over the edge. Or, she recalled, a tiny smile tugging at her lips as the memory played before her eyes, flying up because I’d pushed it back somehow. With practiced ease, she took a blue mane tie in hoof while gathering her purple mane up in the other, deftly stretching the tie to encircle her long, flowing locks. The tip of her tongue poked through her lips, her sky blue eyes were wide, alight with the same focus she put into her beautiful paintings and awe-inspiring sketches. A quick twist and push of her mane through locked it all in place. Sure Stroke tugged her hooves away, beaming at her reflection as she took in her typical high ponytail and fluffed her violet feathers. Perfect! She was ready at long last. Ready for Trade Day. By happenstance, it fell on the same day as the Summer Sun Celebration this year. Which meant the villagers of Respite, changeling and pony alike, would take it as opportunity to host a double celebration. One for the Princess of Day, Celestia. The other for the young mares, stallions, and changelings taking their first step into adulthood by declaring their trades. She trotted over to her wooden desk, built by the Wood brothers’ careful hooves, where a stack of about forty-odd pages rested, gathered together within a lime green folder. A color which brought a smile to her face as she idly traced the edge with her hoof. Lime green. The color of changeling slime. How fitting for the subject she’d chosen to write on over the past several years. If only some of her notes hadn’t been so sloppy. A rueful grin played upon her lips. All those drafts she’d tossed away, even without Regale and Gale’s advice, could have been fashioned into a veritable flock of paper cranes by hooves more nimble than hers. If a certain Nimble Hooves could be pried away from her dance stage or newly-minted fiance, Peppermint, long enough to do so without tickling permissions in return. That changeling would be tickling and dancing as long as she drew breath. The phantom touch of warm sunlight upon her back was like a gentle reminder. There were places to be today, no time to linger and reminisce over how her life had changed during the past three years. Sure Stroke picked up her folder and slipped it into her beaten, tattered old messenger bag, which still bore the image of her cutie mark, a sketching pencil and paintbrush crossed over one another, stitched onto the side. It was coming up on time to find a replacement bag, really. The strap, she noticed as she slung it over her shoulders, looked as though it might be about ready to give out. Perhaps she could arrange a little trip to Manehattan after things got settled. Yes, that would be just lovely. A trip with Aspire, both for a new bag and for pleasure. Or maybe they could go somewhere new, like Baltimare. Or Canterlot. Or Cloudsdale. Something to consider for later. With a merry swish of her tail, Sure Stroke swept from her room and tugged the door closed behind her before she continued on down the hall. She hung a left around the corner, walking into the kitchen where her mother, Skydancer, was putting the finishing touches on a lovely breakfast of sliced apples, pears, and blueberry muffins. At the table sat her father, Drizzly Day, with his nose buried in what looked to be the monthly weather projections, the tiniest of frowns played upon his lips. Sure Stroke withheld a chuckle. Looks like we might be in for some storms. It is getting to be about that time of year. She trotted over to the table, leaning in to lay her chin on her father’s gray-blue shoulder and gently nuzzle his cheek. “Good morning, dad,” she greeted softly. Drizzly Day turned his attention away from his weather reports and tilted his head so his limp, dark gray bangs shifted out of his eyes. A warm smile spread across his face as he returned the gesture. “Morning, sweetie,” he murmured. “Sleep well?” “Like I just fed Aspire and Esalen a full meal.” Snorting, he shook his head and planted a kiss upon her forehead. “Good to hear.” His gaze flitted to her messenger back, he tilted one ear back, the other up. “You ready for the big day?” Was she ready? She’d been ready for years. Everyone in her class, those who hadn’t been called up last year—like Nimble, Vector, and Zephyr—had been waiting impatiently for their time to declare a trade. It was their time, their way of finally entering adulthood. The most important day of the year, perhaps only surpassed by Sharers’ Day itself. “More ready than you know,” Sure Stroke answered with a waggle of her ears. “And excited, no doubt,” her mother added. Sure Stroke looked over her shoulder just in time to catch a soft kiss on her nose before one of her mother’s sunny yellow wings was draped over her shoulders, carefully so not to disturb the plates balanced upon her back. Her eyes shone with pride. “Speaking of which, Faith has been positively buzzing with excitement for months. Won’t stop talking about you joining her.” A dusty pink filled her cheeks. Sure Stroke ducked her head, her feathers fluffing beneath the praise. An incomprehensible mumble spilled forth from her lips as she slipped out from under her mother’s wing and found her seat at the table. Their shared mirth made her ears burn to the very tips. They weren’t supposed to be teasing her today! Today was Trade Day, darn it! This was supposed to be the day she and all the foals and nymphs finally became adults in the eyes of all the villagers, not the usual teasing and knowing looks! The young mare heaved a sigh and allowed a fond smile to spread across her muzzle as Skydancer set a plate of fruit and blueberry muffin down before her. Who was she kidding? They were her parents, and they all lived in a village with a race of tricksters. The teasing had only just begun. Sure Stroke quickly devoured her breakfast and downed a glass of cool milk. Once she finished, she rose to put her dishes in the sink, then returned to the table to collect her messenger bag and dot a kiss on her parents’ foreheads. “Bye mom, bye dad!” she called as she dashed out the door and into the living room. “By Celestia, filly! Where’s the fire?” Her father teased in between chuckles. She stopped, turning to stick her head back around the door jamb. Her feathers twitched, she bounced lightly on the tips off her hooves. “Meeting Aspire and Esalen on the way!” she explained in a rush. “They want to get there early so we can get to the front of the line!” Before either could reply, Sure Stroke flared her wings and took off in a rustle of air and swirling violet feathers, hurrying out the door and into the warm morning sunlight. Awaiting her on the dirt path leading up to her parents’ home, their forehooves raised as if to mount the first step onto the porch, were a pair of very familiar changelings. Sunlight shone from carapaces as black as coal, caressing their every muscle and curve as if to accentuate their lithe bodies. Holes seemed to dot their legs at random, much the same as their manes of sugar pink and deep, ocean blue. They both stood nearly a head and shoulders taller than her, twin fangs poked from behind their upper lips and stopped just before the end of their chin, the tips gleaming in the sun as the tips of their forked tongues sneaked out to taste the air—to taste for her emotions. And their eyes … Well, one could hardly overstate the changelings’ love for their mischief and tricks, especially the pair before her. “Heya, Doodle!” they greeted in that creepy, near-perfect unison every changeling seemed to love, and waggled their chitinous ears. Aspire and Esalen were known throughout the village as the Terrible Twins for good reason. That she was dating the former said more about her than anything. But something was off about them. Or, rather, there was something amiss with her favorite smugling. Her Aspire. That smug smirk spread across his muzzle was right, no doubt about that. But the way his eyes glittered, it wasn’t his way. Odd though it was to say. Adding to her suspicion, Sure Stroke noticed the corners of Esalen’s mouth twitching every several seconds. As if she was struggling not to burst into a fit of chitters. And her eyes did gleam like the night sky full of twinkling stars. The very same way Aspire’s did whenever he was scheming, or in the middle of a good trick. Sure Stroke’s ears perked up, she had to fight to keep her tail from swishing gaily. Ah, so that’s their game today. Without uttering a word, she trotted over to Esalen and planted a lingering kiss upon her lips. The young changeling blinked twice, but didn’t flinch or so much as draw in a breath. Rather, her eyelids slowly fell to fix Sure Stroke with a hooded, smoldering look, Sure Stroke could feel a smile tugging at her lips and the vibrations of an approving purr rumbling in the back of her throat as she surrendered to the kiss. One of her hooves drifted up to cup the young mare’s cheek, the tips of her forked tongue teased and probed along her lips in silent asking for entrance. Permission Sure Stroke was quite happy to grant. A contented hum sounded in the back of her throat, muffled by Esalen’s mouth as her thick, dextrous tongue began its sensuous assault. To her left, Aspire sputtered and gaped. “E-Excuse me!” he cried indignantly. “Are you seriously gonna slight me like this while I’m watching?” This time, Sure Stroke couldn’t help herself. She laughed into the kiss, breaking it after another second and turned to fix the aghast changeling with a winning smile as she licked the lingering strand of saliva from her lips. “Slight Aspire? Never,” she replied. “But if you’re going to say my figuring out your trick because you can never match the look in his eyes when he’s pulling a trick, then yes, Essy, I’m slighting you. While you watch.” The faux Esalen burst into a fit of chittering laughter and tugged her in close for a hug and playful tussling of her mane. “Told ya she’d figure it out!” she said, though in another voice, one which didn’t quite belong. Or rather, it was her looks which didn’t belong on him. Twin plumes of green fire washed over the twins’ bodies as they shapeshifted. Long, sugar pink mane and twin braids receded and became short, shaggy blue as deep as the ocean, shimmering pink eyes bled out and were filled with a lovely azure that must’ve been stolen straight from the sky. Then Sure Stroke found herself squeezed tight against her loving boyfriend’s chest plate. She could feel his lips stretching into a victorious grin, and the tips of his fangs teasing against her coat as he kissed her cheek then leaned up to nuzzle her ear. “You,” he whispered huskily, the rumbling purr in his chest sent shivers down her spine, “have just earned more affection than you could possibly fathom for that, Sure Stroke.” With a playful wink, he turned to aim a smug smirk at his fuming sister. “And you owe me twenty bits. I told you she’d learned.” An annoyed growl rolled about in the back of Esalen’s throat. She blew her sugar pink bangs out of her eyes and glared at the pair. “What gave me away?” she demanded. Sure Stroke tossed her mane and gave the tiniest shrug of her shoulders, a calm, languid smile spread across her muzzle. “After kissing this face and all the others he’s worn for three years—” she drew back to rear up and licked his nose “—I know when it’s him or someone trying to imitate that look in his eyes. No one can match the way they gleam when he’s up to something.” Aspire’s smirk grew. He threw out his chest, pressing his nose against hers. “See? My eyes are special, Essy.” He turned and blew a raspberry at her, still very much a nymph in a changeling’s body. “You just aren’t there yet!” “Oh, do go on, little brother!” she hissed sweetly. “Please! Tell me more!” Unable to resist, Sure Stroke glanced at her out of the corner of her eye and waggled her ears. “If you wanted a kiss so badly, you only had to ask,” she teased, fluffing her feathers. “Then Toola and I could really say we’d tamed the terrible twins and brought you both under wing!” The instant the words slipped from her lips, she knew she’d pressed her luck too far. With a squeak, Sure Stroke clapped a hoof over her mouth as if to snatch them back before they reached the twins’ ears. Their heads snapped around to fix her with matching stares, their eyes glowed green. “Oh, really?” they hissed in unison, their lips stretched into vulpine grins. Aspire tightened his embrace, effectively trapping her. His fangs pressed against her cheek. “How quickly we go from reward to trouble, sweetheart! I think she needs remedial lessons—care to assist, Essy? I’ll wash out our bet.” “Keep the bits, you won them fair and square,” Esalen crooned as she sauntered over to nuzzle Sure Stroke’s opposite cheek. “I’m always happy to help remind our loves what happens when they get too big for their bed wraps!” “Mmm, and this one has gotten awful mouthy. Remember how shy and sweet she was when we first met her?” “Oh, she was so deliciously adorable! I could’ve just eaten her right up! Whoever got to her and changed her so?” Sure Stroke huffed a breath through her nose. With a grunt, she shoved the pair away, their merry chittering filled her ears, her cheeks tinged a dusty pink. “You two are incorrigible!” Grinning, Aspire cantered back to her side and kissed her forehead. “You love us, though.” His eyes twinkled, he threw a hoof over her shoulders and added, “We’ll forget that little slight of yours.” “Call it even for us betting on you?” Esalen said. “Even if you lost me twenty bits, you perceptive little pegasus.” She couldn’t help but let out a sheepish giggle, the perfect way to disguise her relieved sigh. Absolved of a challenge because she’d been the subject of their games. The scales were balanced once more. Such was the life of a pony among changelings. Sure Stroke nuzzled her friend and boyfriend before taking up her usual position between them, unfurling her wings to lay them gently across their backs and tug them in close by her side while they walked into town. Each of the three wore grins bigger and brighter than ever before. The twins were positively buzzing with excitement, and Sure Stroke felt as though she could walk on sunshine! Today was the day at last! Sure Stroke and the twins were hardly the only ones eager for Trade Day’s arrival. A simple fact which made itself known almost as soon as they entered Respite proper and crossed into the square. Their classmates stood, scattered about the well-trodden dirt path, all chattering, laughing, and chittering with one another as they’d done for years. Sure Stroke let her bright blue eyes flit here and there, smiling with wonder as she ticked off all the names in her head as if she’d only now realized how they’d all grown. Rock Solid, the big, stoic earth pony of slate gray coat and pewter mane who’d seemingly been crafted out of solid mountain with his burly chest, strong legs, and sharp jaw, towered over Allegretto, Peppermint, and Nimble Hooves. Nimble, of course, had grown up to be a genuine beauty, with her delicate shoulders, long lashes, and polished carapace which seemed to accentuate her every curve. Her violet mane was pulled back and tied into a neat bun, her eyes alight as she slyly snaked her hoof around Peppermint’s foreleg and stole a kiss to his cheek, grinning wickedly as a reddish hue spread throughout his face and neck. Up ahead, there were Vector and Zephyr, the latter garbed in the forest green armor of the village guard. Vector had finally done away with his old mohawk style, instead growing out his teal and charcoal striped mane until it nearly touched his shoulders and letting the wind sweep it back as he flew to give him a look that had all the pegasus fillies fluttering their wings. Even Sure Stroke had to admit, it suited him quite well. Had she not been otherwise spoken for, she might see about doing the same, or taking it a step further and trailing the tips beneath his chin. But she had Aspire. And he was quite happy to appraise her feathers and powerful wings. What more could she ask? Zephyr still had his silvery mane nice and long, and just a bit wild when it wasn’t matted down by his helmet. He wore a small smile, his eyes drooped lazily but gleaming alertly as he chatted with his old friend, then turned to address a young mare floating a clipboard along in her magic who never failed to ruin a good time. Sure Stroke had to groan. Of course I’d have to deal with her snippy little self today. With a roll of her eyes, she turned her gaze away from her longtime nuisance and began scanning the crowd. They were all there, every foal and nymph from their class—all grown up and either in the midst of or about to enter into their trades. Each of them wearing smiles and bursting with energy and poorly hidden glee. All of them save for one. Sure Stroke blinked twice, tilting her head as she searched high and low for any sign of bright magenta coat or aquamarine and purple mane. Her ears perked up to listen for even the slightest hint of a bubbly giggle. None came. Where in love’s name was Toola Roola? The young mare flicked her tail. Biting her lip, she turned, the question ready on the tip of her tongue. It was never given voice. Everything happened in an instant, yet time seemed to slow to allow her to behold it all. Esalen’s eyes flitted this way and that, her brows furrowed as her lips slowly tugged into the smallest of frowns. Her nostrils flared, Sure Stroke could hear her draw in a deep snuffling breath to catch the scent. Then, her tongue flicked out to taste the air and her ears went rigid. Her frown gave way to a knowing smirk. Sure Stroke could almost read “aha” right off her forehead. Pink eyes flashed with glee, Esalen spun around so quickly Sure Stroke felt the air shift against her feathers. She reared up, her chitinous hooves spread wide, ready to catch and entrap the magenta missile that hit her full in the chest and made her stagger backward a step. A low purr rumbled in the back of her throat, she pressed her snout against the sheepishly grinning mare’s and nipped at her nose, murmuring, “Good morning, treasure.” Toola Roola squeaked and ducked her head between her shoulders, her cheeks aflame. “Caught me again,” she replied in a whisper. “Always do, always will.” Chuckling, Esalen leaned in and planted a deep kiss on Toola’s lips that made her curly tail swish. “You can’t hide your mischief and love from me, gigglebox. You know that better than anyone.” Sure Stroke shook her head and shared a knowing look with Aspire. With fond smiles and waggling ears, they shared a quick kiss, then turned away to allow the pair some modicum of privacy. A sense of warmth, completion, filled the young mare’s chest. The gang was all there. And in short order, so too came the adults. Or, rather, those who were long-since professionals in their trade, some ready to mentor, others merely happy to watch the tradition play out. From her parents to Warm Welcome and Faith—who met her eye and beamed—to big, burly Mantis and little Ladybug, to the Wood brothers, and even some curious pony guests who came peeking out of other ponies’ houses and wandered over to investigate this strange happening at such an early hour. Purely by instinct, she made to look for Gale and Regale, but stopped short, her heart sinking. Where were they? Surely they hadn’t forgotten. One by one, the rest came forth, surrounding the younger ponies and changelings in a loose semicircle. All of them except Abacus, Façade, Clanger, and a few of the other teachers. Off at school, no doubt, Sure Stroke thought. They’ll be getting everything sorted with the little ones. Clanger will be ringing the bell any minute. She leaned to her left, brushing her shoulder against Aspire’s leg and teasing the tips of her feathers against his side. A quick glance up at him, just in time to catch that lovely twinkle in his eyes as he leaned down to slowly nuzzle a circle around her cheek, spurred a happy sigh. “Why did you have to get taller than me?” she accused, her tone thick with humor. Aspire chittered. “So I could do this,” he murmured as he laid his chin atop her head and flicked the forked tips of his tongue against her ear, his mirth redoubled with the squeak it prompted. He leaned in closer, his breath visited a delightful tickling touch upon the outer edge. “And so you can’t wrap me under wing or stop me from lavishing all my affection on you, silly Doodle.” Her cheeks flushed a rosy pink. Sure Stroke buried her face in his shoulder. “Charmer.” “Only if you ask. Only how you ask it.” Before she could voice her retort, all chatter around them ceased. Her ears flicked. Sure Stroke lifted her head from his shoulder to scan the path leading toward Queen Euphoria’s house. Her face lit up at the sight of the tall, slender changeling Queen, her teal and pink mane bound by long circlets of golden hearts, trotting toward the crowd with her husband, Cool Breeze, at her side. Their entourage followed close behind. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of her friends who’d already chosen their trades all stepping away to join the others in the semicircle, leaving her class to stand in the middle, awaiting their Queen. It was time. Queen Euphoria and Cool Breeze split off, pausing a moment to share a nuzzle with one another before he moved to join the others in the semicircle. She did the same for each of her entourage, smiling fondly as she watched them take their places beside her husband. Then, she made the last leg of her approach, stopping but a length or two from the gathering of young ponies. A smile as warm as the midsummer sun spread across her gorgeous features. “Good morning, everyone,” she greeted. A chorus of replies swept through the crowd, drawing a merry chitter and swish of her tail. “My, we’re quite awake this morning! Though, with a day so special finally upon us, I should think it justified.” The Queen of the Caretakers let her gaze sweep over those gathered in a semicircle, lingering a moment on some of the village guests. “To those of you unfamiliar with our ways, this is a most special day in our village. Today, those who stand before us will make choose the trades they will train and study for so that someday, they might offer their care to visitors, just like you.” She paused a moment, drawing in a deep breath. “And some may choose to pursue their trades outside our village, offering a helping hoof to those around them as the Sainted Ones taught us so many years ago.” The atmosphere seemed to shift, a heavy weight settled over those in the clearing. Sure Stroke blinked, her brow beginning to arch as she felt Aspire shiver against her side. She turned to find both he and Esalen squeezing their eyes shut and shaking their heads, their faces creased with matching grimaces. The long moment passed. The twins released a deep sigh as if they were one being, their eyes slowly blinked open. Sure Stroke furrowed her brows and managed to catch Aspire’s eye. She perked on ear up and laid the other flat against her scalp, silently prompting an explanation. He shook his head. “Later,” he mouthed, before nodding toward Queen Euphoria. A question for another time, apparently. “Whatever they choose,” Queen Euphoria continued on, “whatever path they take, we gather here today to support these young ones as they take their first step out of foalhood or nymphood and become young ponies and changelings. Today, we who have come before offer our knowledge and skills to train this, the next generation of Caretakers, and remind them that whether their trades keep them here or draw them across the great seas, there is always a place for them in Respite.” A polite rumble followed her speech, several among the crowd chimed their approval on all counts. All around Sure Stroke, there were smiles—the villagers’ full of eagerness and pride in their younger members, the visitors’ full of a sort of wondrous confusion and curiosity, especially the little foals. Sure Stroke smiled, the memory of her first days in the village played out in her head. She knew those feelings quite well. Such days were still quite present in her life. But, to her delight, those days were becoming less frequent as time passed. A blessing, if she did say so. Queen Euphoria buzzed her wings, then turned to walk down the line. “I’m aware that each of you have already spoken with some of the villagers, some have also volunteered your time to learn from them.” She stopped just before the twins, her gaze lingering upon them a moment, before flitting between Toola Roola and Sure Stroke. The young mare tried to keep her wings from fluttering once more. “Today, you will meet with each of them again and confirm your trade with my household and me. Most, as you can see, are here with us.” Queen Euphoria gestured to the villagers gathered around them. “Others are already hard at work, some as guards, some fishing, others teaching. For those who you don’t see here, come speak with me, and I will direct you to where you may find them. If you have any other questions—” with a swish of her flowing, aquamarine tail, she gave her brightest smile to each of them in turn “—please speak now.” None took the invitation. Each stood quietly, bouncing eagerly on the tips of their hooves. Feathers rustles, ears waggled, chitinous wings buzzed, and eager grins began to spread across their faces. They’d waited plenty long. Not one of them wanted to wait another second. A feeling, judging by the knowing look in her eyes, which Queen Euphoria knew quite well. “Then let’s not waste any more time,” she said. “Let Trade Day begin now.” Aspire could scarcely withhold a merry chitter as Queen Euphoria spoke the words, let alone at the delicious blend of emotions dancing upon his tongue—the spice of excitement, sweet, fluffy joy and delight, the delectable nectar of Sure Stroke’s love for him, like cake and sweet white frosting. All of it would make for a wonderful meal for any changeling. It was enough to make him give his wings a little buzz before he turned to steal a kiss from his wonderful mare’s lips. A contented hum built in his chest and gave itself voice, reverberating in the back of his throat as her feathers fluffed and her beautiful blue eyes slowly fluttered shut. Unfortunately, it was hardly the place to lavish her as he wished. The young changeling broke the kiss, though not without quickly pecking her nose and smirking at the shuddering gasp it drew, then nuzzled a slow circle around her snout. “Going to see Euphoria and see what’s going on with those two?” he asked softly. “Or my mom?” Sure Stroke’s eyes blinked open. A dusty pink blush settled upon her delicate cheeks, she ducked her head, her feathers unfurled as if to try to hide her muzzle. But her eyes remained fixed upon his. Oh, how they always made his heart pound within his chest like a thundering herd. “I think your mom first,” she replied with a little cough and rustling of her wings. “I have a feeling talking to Regale will take a bit longer.” “Well, why not just take care of that right now?” His mother’s voice made Aspire’s ears twitch and spurred a tiny squeak forth from the back of Sure Stroke’s throat. He turned to glance over his shoulder, a small smile played upon his lips. “Sneaking up on your next helper?” Faith’s chitinous ears waggled. “One would think she was used to us doing that, what with your love for cuddle and kiss ambushes.” Turning her gaze upon Sure Stroke, she stepped closer, wrapping a hoof around the younger mare’s shoulders and pulling her into a warm embrace. “Any other pony would ask if you were as excited as I for today,” she murmured, “but … well, with our gifts—” “We can taste it,” Aspire and Esalen chimed in stereo. “Quite.” Shooting the pair a warning look, then one at Toola when a bubbly giggle escaped her lips, Faith returned her attention to Sure Stoke. “I’m ready to make it official if you are, dear.” The sunny smile that spread across his girlfriend’s gorgeous face could’ve warmed him through the deepest winter, and the pure joy which flowed forth from her nearly made him want to pull her off to the side for a long cuddle. But he restrained himself. There would be plenty of time for that afterward. Sure Stroke nodded so quickly her ponytail bobbed. “I’m ready!” she gleefully said, bouncing on lightly on the tips of her hooves. Chuckling, Faith released her embrace, then guided her toward Queen Euphoria. Always so excitable, Aspire thought, chuckling to himself as he followed in their wake alongside Esalen and a tittering Toola Roola. Though, really, who could blame her? The only thing keeping him from doing the same was the chance to tease his bouncy, doodly girlfriend for how she held herself before their Queen. And that just wouldn’t work if he showed any inkling of the same. Of course, the chance to watch her lovely purple tail lash and those downy feathers fluff like an eager griffon was also a perk. As they drew near, Queen Euphoria’s ears perked up. A knowing smile settled upon her lips. “Ah, yes,” she hummed, eying each of them in turn. “I thought I might be hearing from you four rather early this morning.” A sheepish chuckle escaped Aspire’s lips, he rubbed at the back of his already messy mane. “Well … I actually don’t have anything witty for that. It’s kinda expected, isn’t it?” His comment drew incredulous looks from all around him. It was Caress who voiced the their shared thought, “Aspire without a snarky comment? This is a red-letter day, indeed.” The slender changeling sauntered forward from her place on Cool Breeze’s left, her brow arched. “Surely this is a sign that Nightmare Moon is going to return, no?” Cool Breeze fixed her with a stern look. “Let’s not go there, dear,” he scolded, his tone one of warning. “No need to risk a jinx that size, don’t you think?” “Fair, fair. I’m only teasing.” “In any case,” Neat ’n Orderly cut in, shooting a sidelong glare at the pair before turning a small, professional smile to the younger group. “We’re all happy to see you, and that you’re ready to pick your trades.” Her horn lit, she floated a clipboard with a list of names written in neat, flowing cursive up to bear. “Sure Stroke, you’ll be down as …” “Helping Faith with her patients,” Sure Stroke supplied. “Art therapy.” “And I accept, of course,” Faith added. Neat ’n Orderly’s pencil scribbled a note across the page. “Good, good. Well, we now have that all set up so you two can get organized with how your trade partnership will work.” “Excellent!” Beaming, Faith patted Sure Stroke on the shoulder. “Now that that’s, I think we can organize together over lunch. Say, this afternoon?” Aspire’s ears twitched. He’d almost forgotten about Moving Day. Once he declared his trade, he, like Esalen and all their friends, would be adults. It would be time to move out of their parents’ houses and into their own. Fortunately, there had been some prior discussion. His home would be made with Esalen, Toola, and Sure Stroke. Not a bad mix, in his opinion. He was tugged out of his brief lapse by Sure Stroke eagerly bobbing her head. “Sounds good to me!” the young mare replied. Then I’ll expect you then. Now—” with a playful grin, Faith gave her a gentle shove toward Sweet Treat’s shop “—big smile and enjoy your first day as an adult! We’ll talk later today.” “And step over to my home,” Queen Euphoria added. “I may have … a proposition. And someone who might offer a bit of an explanation for its necessity. Feel free to make tea, if you like. Breezy?” “Of course. And I’ll fill her in as well. ” “Thank you, dear.” “You’re welcome.” Her husband kissed her chin. “Come along, Sure Stroke.” Aspire chittered as he watched Sure Stroke catch his mother in a tight hug which drew a yelp from the elder changeling before dashing off. Her messenger bag thumped a steady rhythm against her side as trotted alongside Cool Breeze. Deliciously excitable and so full of joy and love for the world around her. Just a couple of the many things about his silly, doodly girlfriend he loved all the more. Caress coughed. “Well, with little Doodle out of the way,” she said with a sly smile. “You may as well put these two—” she waved a hole-ridden hoof at Esalen and Toola “—down for me, Neaty. With all the time they’ve spent helping out on weekends, I’m quite happy to make it official right here, right now.” “If they choose it,” Neat replied smoothly. Neither of them missed a beat. “We do!” Esalen and Toola chimed together, the latter happily pressing up against her. Caress’s smile nearly touched her cream-colored mane, her eyes glittered like diamonds, full of a playful, smug light. “They do.” With a long-suffering sigh and roll of her eyes, Neat muttered, “No one appreciates the formalities these days.” All the same, her pencil darted across the page, filling out their trades as quick as a flash. Once finished, she aimed a smile at Esalen and Toola and said, “You two are all set.” “Wonderful. Thank you, dear.” Caress pecked Neat ’n Orderly’s lips, then motioned for the girls to follow. “Come along, you two. Let’s see about getting things set for you to do some work on actual ponies. In fact, Dewy, you’re not doing anything but bouncing and looking beautiful. How about a massage and some yoga?” The clumsy mare’s wings rustled eagerly. “Oooh! Free therapy?” “For today, yes. I’ll pay bits in exchange.” “I’m in!” With a flap of her wings, Morning Dew took to the air, quickly dotting Cool Breeze, Neat ’n Orderly, and Queen Euphoria with a kiss each before she hurried to Caress’s side. Aspire managed to catch Esalen’s eye just before they headed out. She nodded and gave him a little wave before turning to follow her new mentor, shoulder to shoulder with her loving girlfriend. Leaving him to declare his trade. As if there was any doubt. He’d been ready for this day for years. Queen Euphoria offered a smile. Her tongue flicked out to taste. “Such excitement, Aspire. And for good reason. You’ve waited a long time for this day.” Bowing his head to hide a sheepish grin, Aspire chuckled. “Yeah. Sort of a long time coming.” “You’ve been very patient, yet diligent in practice,” the Queen praised. “But now, we can make it official. Neaty?” Neat ’n Orderly nodded once and met Aspire’s gaze. “Teaching?” she asked, her pencil already jotting it down. “Teaching,” he confirmed. Her pencil danced across the clipboard. “Done. Thank you, Aspire.” “Abacus is expecting me at the schoolhouse, I take it?” “That he is.” Queen Euphoria’s smile grew into a vulpine grin. “He specifically asked us to inform you that he expects you to be on time for Clanger to ring the bell.” Aspire’s jaw dropped. “What? But—how—I—that’s not—” He heard it, even across the village and over Cool Breeze’s snickering. Through the cool, early morning air, ringing out as clear as the sun peeking above the treetops, was the familiar sound of the brass school bell. His ears slowly drooped. A low, keening chitter escaped Aspire’s lips.  “Oh, come on!” he whined. “Abacus always said he’d find some way to pay you back for all your mischief,” Queen Euphoria drawled, her eyes glittering with naked glee. “You’d better get moving, young changeling.” Scarcely had the words left her mouth before he turned and dashed off, cursing under his breath as his hooves pounded against the dirt path. Why am I always the one running for the schoolhouse? Two years ago, Respite’s schoolhouse seemed so much bigger to Aspire. Oh, the path his hooves thundered down, every creaking floorboard upon which he tread as he hurried toward his destination, through the narrow hallway, then right passed the classroom full of wide-eyed foals and nymphs just out of their hatchling years, was familiar enough. But somewhere along the line, over the course of the last two years, the village seemed to shrink around him. Of course, it wasn’t too long ago that his parents towered above both he and Esalen. Now they stood at eye level with their father, and nearly half a head taller than their mother. Not to mention Sure Stroke. Aspire skidded around the corner, his momentum forcing him to hop on his right hooves as his weight nearly sent him into the far wall. Hissing a curse, he bounded forward, his eyes locked on the green-painted door up ahead which bore his old teacher’s name. There it was! With one last burst of speed, he sprinted down the hallway and threw the door open, diving into the classroom just as he had so many times before. “Made it!” he gasped between breaths. “That was … a dirty trick, but I made it!” Aspire expected they’d be in the midst of Abacus’s starting lecture. He expected that he’d come thundering in with all the subtlety and grace of a rampaging bugbear, drawing surprised stares and a stern glare from his new mentor. By love, an apology was already on the tips of his forked tongue. Oh, there were stares all right. Expectant stares of untold mirth, wide, mischievous grins, swishing tails, fluffing feathers, and buzzing wings greeted his arrival. Along with a smattering of foalish tittering and nymphs’ chitters. “‘A dirty trick’, he says,” a familiar voice teased. “All I had to do was ask Queen Euphoria nicely to draw out her speech a little. Didn’t even cost me a sip of love.” From his place reclined in his seat, Abacus glanced at the clock resting on his desk and sighed. “Darn. Ten more seconds, and you’d all have lost. Oh well, no homework tonight.” He shrugged, a slow, wicked smirk spread across his muzzle. “Class, what do we have to say to Mister Aspire?” In practiced unison, every foal and nymph threw their hooves out wide and waved them in time as they sang, “You’re late! You’re late! You’re oh so very late!” Aspire fixed them all with a stern glare, grumbling under his breath as they fell into peals of mirth and exchanged hoof bumps with one another. He made sure to make note of the ones who took a bit too much amusement in his folly—they would get special treatment in his next trick. Oh, yes. Slowly, the fuming changeling turned his gaze upon Abacus,his brow arching. “I guess you’ve finally gotten me back for all those tricks Essy and I used to pull, eh?” “Oh, Aspire.” Abacus chuckled darkly. “I haven’t begun to repay you.” The stallion rose from his seat, gaily waggling his ears, and walked over to wrap him in a warm embrace. After a moment, he drew back to hold Aspire at leg’s length. “All that aside, I’m glad you chose teaching as your trade, and honored that you chose me as your mentor. Even if it was just a formality.” Ducking his head to hide his flushing cheeks, Aspire gave a crooked smile. “You helped me a lot over the years. It was a no-brainer.” Abacus patted his shoulder. “All the same, I mean it. And I’m proud to see the little nymph I taught become the young changeling standing before me today.” Aspire felt his chest fill with pride. “Thank you,” he replied softly. “My pleasure.’ Turning to face the class, Abacus smiled and gestured to Aspire. “Well, class, you all know my new assistant teacher, Mister Aspire, from his time tutoring and all the tricks he loves to pull.” He paused to allow them another moment to laugh, then continued, “Since it’s his first official day teaching, I think we’ll let him start things off for us. Take it away, Aspire.” He couldn’t help it. His ears went ramrod straight, a wide, toothy grin nearly split his face. Aspire buzzed his wings as he hurried to stand behind the podium and let his gaze sweep out over the class. Finally. A thought came to him. He fixed them all with a half-lidded look and let a slow smile spread across his features, the sort he knew would send warning shivers down their spines, and ran his tongue along his lips. Oh, how the chance to pull a good trick could make apprehension and fear taste so sweet despite that rotting flavor. “So,” he began casually, “which of our little students came up with the terms for that bet?” Silence greeted him. Each foal and nymph folded their little hooves neatly on their desks, their faces the very picture of utmost innocence. Smart, he praised. But not out of the woods just yet. If one wouldn’t come forward, they’d all get a taste. Aspire lit his horn and snaked a tendril of shimmering green magic around one of the books resting on Abacus’s shelves, and floated it over to rest on the podium. “Why don’t we start off with my favorite subject—algebra.” The chorus of whines and groans was music to his ears. Sweet music.