//------------------------------// // Chapter 2 // Story: The String of the Stars // by computerneek //------------------------------// At first, I thought that our daughter learning to talk so soon, despite being an amazing development, would only torture us more during the night.  When I asked my husband in private, he agreed- though he also mentioned her being able to talk should take the guessing out of the equation. So that night, we had gone to bed, expecting to be awoken shortly by her yells. Then, when I woke up, Celestia’s Sun was shining.  I figured my husband had tended to Lyra each time, and trotted over to check on her; he was still asleep.  I found her playing with some of her toys. When asked, she didn’t speak- she just smiled innocently and pointed a hoof at the short row of empty milk bottles lined up against the inside of her crib.  Apparently, she’d gotten them herself. Not too long later, I decided, with my husband, that it was a blessing in disguise.  Not only could she talk, but she could tend to herself. As a matter of fact, she seemed to enjoy tending to herself- and still does.  I actually caught her using the toilet once, even though she hasn’t been potty trained; it was shortly after that that I talked to her…  and she stopped wearing diapers, because she didn’t- and still doesn’t- need them. Our next problem came, less than a week later, in that she enjoys playing with us far more than she enjoys playing with herself- and as much as we like playing with her, we’re not available nearly as much as we’d like.  So, we started trying to find somepony more her age to play with. She’s almost three years old now, and we’ve been searching for most of that time.  We still haven’t found anypony, mostly because their parents are all afraid she’s contagious.  Even after I reminded them that not only is SLS non-contagious, it’s also non-communicable. …  They never seem to care. Neither did she, honestly- when we gave her the news, she’d shrugged and asked to go to the park.  That was a year ago and now, she’s allowed to go to the park whenever she wants, as long as she lets us know where she’s going and is back in time for dinner. Our latest problem is staring at me in the face, in her hoof:  An acceptance letter from the local magic kindergarten. The problem with that is that she’s never shown any magical capability whatsoever.  Well, aside from her hoofgrip- but she’s shown absolutely no sign of being able to use her horn.  No magic surges, no nothing. Yet, they wouldn’t have accepted her without at least some capability. I stare at the page for another several seconds, trying to make sense of it. “So…  You’ve been accepted to Magic Kindergarten.” “Yes,” she states calmly.  She’s a very patient child. “Even though you’ve never…?”  I look up at her horn. She sighs, before closing her eyes. I almost hit my head on the ceiling with my jump when a spray of sparks emerges suddenly from the tip of her horn.  My wings instinctively flash out to arrest my fall, and I land rather gracelessly. “Uh…” She smiles at me.  “I did experience magic surges,” she states.  “Just… they were never very big, and always easy to control.  At the time, I thought it was something all unicorns dealt with all the time, so I never brought it up.”  She sighs. “Never thought to, after they went away.” “...  Oh. Um, sure, we can do this.”  I take the letter, opening it. Won’t Hamstrings be amazed. I step slowly in the front door, amongst all these strangers.  Sure, they’re all unicorn fillies my age, all here to start magic kindergarten, but there’s so many.  There’s, like, twenty-eight of them- no, twenty-nine, that green one looks to have been early.  That makes a total count, including myself, of thirty. I sidle over to the wall rather quickly; without my parents, I don’t know how to talk to anypony.  They’re just…  I don’t get them.  I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and resume walking to the classroom.  At least I know where to go, and how to read, and how to follow instructions.  That’s all I should need to get started. I can’t shake the nagging feeling that I’m forgetting something.  I mean, I have that notebook my mom gave me, so it’s not like I can’t- Wait.  It is like I can’t; I don’t know how to write.  I have forgotten something. I’m vaguely aware that my walking has come to a stop, my breathing intensifying, as I try to process my dilemma and find a solution.  I’ve never written before. I don’t even know how to hold a quill- Mom always floats it in her magic, but I don’t have anywhere near that fine a level of control over my levitation yet!  How am I gonna- Something hard pokes my shoulder.  I let out a gasp, jumping slightly and looking.  It’s a hoof. “You okay?” the green filly, the one that was early, asks. I glance around the entrance hall; we’re alone, save for the two teachers still chatting over there.  Class doesn’t start for another… There’s the clock. Uh, six minutes. I blink at her. “Weren’t you early?” She sighs.  “Early is boring,” she states.  “Besides, you look lonely. Are you okay?” I blink.  “Oh, uh… I don’t know what I’m going to do.” “You make it sound like you don’t know how to walk.” I snort.  “I can walk just fine!  It’s just… I can’t write.  I don’t even know how to hold the quill!” She smiles.  “You’re worried about nothing,” she states.  “Most of the students here can’t write.” “What?  But- But how am I going to take notes if I can’t write?” She sighs again.  “If you’re that worried about it, I can help.” “Huh?  But the teacher-!” She shakes her head.  “The entire first week is about getting to know our classmates.  Especially if we hang out after school- might have to ask your parents, I know mine will be okay with it- I can have you writing novels by the time we hit any real schoolwork…  Which, I understand, starts with how to read.” I blink.  “Really? Novels?” She chuckles.  “Probably not really, but you’ll certainly be able to write at least legibly…  Uh, my way, that is.  Pretty sure hornwriting is easier, but I can’t do that- and it sure beats mouthwriting.” “Huh?  Then-!” She shakes her head.  “I can’t even lift the quill off the desk with my horn,” she states, “unless I poke it.  And even then.” She chuckles, whipping a quill out of her saddlebags to twirl around her hoof.  “I never could figure out why everypony seems satisfied with using their mouths when we’ve got these perfectly usable hooves.” I nod slowly.  “... Ahh.” “Anyways, we’ve got, like, two minutes left.”  She glances up at the clock. “Two and a half. But anyways- wanna get started?” “Uh…  maybe?  I’m not very good at, um…” She smiles.  “Neither am I!  Fun fact, you’ll never get better if you never try.  Come on- I can help. Sometimes.” I let out a snort of laughter as we turn towards the classroom.  “Right then. So, to whom do I owe the pleasure?” She breaks out in a grin, hopping slightly away from me to turn face-on and bow.  “It is I, Lyra Heartstrings, who will be your escort today, Princess…?” She trails off, raising one eyebrow slightly as one hoof rises slightly. I blink, blush, and give her my name. She completes her show, then jumps right back next to me, resuming the path into the classroom. “I’m not a princess, though,” I mutter, as we reach the door. She gasps comedically.  “Not a Princess? Oh no!  I guess we’ll just have to make you one!  All you need is, what, a crown?  Oh, and wings. But no worries, we can get those!” I can only start laughing as we enter the room.  Especially when a white filly inside the room, overhearing the latter half of Lyra’s statement, pitches in instantly. “Shoot, I forgot to bring the wings!  By the way, the name’s Vinyl Scratch. Hey Glamour, did you remember the crown?” The named filly, with what I think is a bright blue coat under her dress and an excessively shiny golden mane, blinks, and nods.  “Yes, absolutely!” She promptly pulls a folded plastic crown out of her saddlebags and, before I have time to fully process what’s happening, unfolds it and sticks it on my head.  “Name’s Glamour Strings, by the way. How about you?” I give her my name too.  I think I’m in a bit of a trance right now. A third filly trots up; I notice we’re catching the attention of everypony in the room.  She’s got a deep blue coat, with a gentler blue mane, and there’s something purple on her back.  “Hi Princess!” she states, before glancing at Vinyl. “Don’t worry, I got the wings for you,” she states, before levitating the purple thing on her back to mine…  and unfolding it along the way. It’s a set of plastic wings. “I’m Blue Chime, by the way.” I can only stand for a few more seconds, before I look back at the wings she put on my back.  After a couple seconds of examination, I light my own horn. I hear a collective moan from the rest of the room as I do so- but then I straighten my head, holding it high, while I use my magic to flare the wings.  “Sure,” I state, “I’ll be a Princess when I grow up.” Most of the room breaks out into either cheers or giggles, save only for five ponies, myself included…  No, six- the teacher entered while I wasn’t looking… No, five. She’s cheering too. The other four are Lyra, Vinyl, Glamour, and Blue. “Score!” Glamour cries, before sharing a hoofclap with the other three. I let out a little giggle, before turning to Lyra.  “I thought you said you were bad at…?” She nods.  “I am,” she states.  “These three are my only friends.”  She smiles, her eye sparkling. “So far.” I let out a giggle.  “Would you like another?” She glances at the other three, then all four speak together.  “Absolutely!” Then Lyra speaks alone.  “Welcome to the Cutie Mark Crusaders, Princess!” I blush, smile spreading.  Then the teacher talks. “That was probably the best icebreaker I’ve ever seen,” she states.  “Congratulations, Crusaders!” All four of them look at each other again, then at Twilight. Lyra leans in real quick.  “This is where we say ‘Woohoo, Hall of Fame!’ and hoofclap again,” she states quietly, before returning to her original position. “Uh,” I begin, and fill my lungs.  The rest follow suit. We yell together.  “Woohoo, Hall of Fame!”  The hoofclap stings a little- and what looks like fireworks fly out of Glamour’s horn to burst and sparkle in the air.  Woohoo, perfectly synchronized, too! Lyra whips out a notebook and quill, scribbles something down with her hoof, and returns them to her saddlebags. I never thought I’d say this, but it’s fun to be with these ponies.  We mingle with the rest of the class, as instructed; however, I never get the feeling that I’m really going to get along with many of them.  I get the feeling the rest of the Crusaders are experiencing similar results, so by the end of the class, the room has split into three groups:  Us, and two others that don’t have either names or organization.