//------------------------------// // Ash vs. Neighsay // Story: Ash vs. Equestria: School Blaze // by CTVulpin //------------------------------// Ashen Blaze marched through the halls of the school, muttering darkly to himself. “‘Maybe just leave baking to Pinkie Pie,’ she says. Skvetchte rolls came out just fine, Rarity; not my fault you don’t have the palate to appreciate the flavor of stinim. Why can nobody outside the Shadowstar territories appreciate...” He slowed as he passed by Twilight’s office and noticed the doors were ajar, then stopped when he caught sight of something moving inside. “She’s not here today and Spike’s supposed to be helping Dash with a thing,” Ash muttered as he peered through the crack. He saw Chancellor Neighsay walking around Twilight’s desk and looking grimly at the papers stacked in the “To Do” tray. “Well,” Ash said, grinning evilly, “just when I needed an outlet for my frustration.” Ash carefully focused magic into his horn, gave one of the doors a light telekinetic push to gauge if he could accomplish his goal without exceeding the safety limits of his cast, and then thrust both doors open and strode into the office while loudly saying, “I hope you brought your swimming suit, Chancellor.” Neighsay flinched back with a startled sound, but quickly regained his condescending composure. “What are you talking about, Ashen Blaze?” he asked. “Ah,” Ash said, approaching the desk, “that’s right, you wouldn’t actually know. I made a promise that if I ever caught you on this property without good reason, I’d dunk you in the moat.” He reared up, propped one elbow on the desk, and glared at the Chancellor through half-lidded eyes. “And I have to say, finding you here, in the Headmare’s office, while she’s gone does not speak well for your continued dryness.” Chancellor Neighsay bristled. “You dare to threaten a member of the EEA-” “The EEA has no authority here,” Ash snapped. “You made it quite clear you and yours didn’t want any part of Twilight’s School of Friendship. That makes you a trespasser, until you convince me otherwise.” Neighsay scowled at Ash for a second, and then schooled his features again. “This may not be an EEA-approved school,” he said calmly, “but it is still a school operating within Equestria, and I feel that as the head of the EEA I have a moral obligation to at least keep an eye on things here.” He glanced over to the empty chair behind the desk and frowned. “I wanted to inform Princess Twilight of that fact and try to get her to see reason, but she’s not here.” “No, she’s not,” Ash confirmed. “She’s on her way to Mount Aeris at the moment.” “Where?” Neighsay asked. “Mount Aeris,” Ash repeated. “The Hippogriff homeland.” “I see,” Neighsay said, narrowing his eyes. “I should have known; not even two months since reopening the school on her own prerogative and Twilight has already abandoned it in favor of haring off on adventures again.” “She’s going there on school business, actually,” Ash said sharply. “There’s a field trip planned in the next few days, and the permission slip for our Hippogriff student, Silverstream, somehow got lost in transit to her parents. Twilight decided to head out there personally to get the new slip signed because it’d be faster than the mail. And she hardly left the school abandoned,” he added. “I’m here, after all. Our Guidance Counselor is still here, as are the two teachers on duty for the day, and the Headmare’s assistant.” “Neighsay had the decency to look slightly chastened. “Well,” he said, “I would think that following up on a single student’s missing paperwork would be beneath a Headmare’s attention.” “That’s Twilight for you,” Ash said with a shrug. “Clerical mishaps like that are a personal bugbear to her; she has to fix them personally whenever possible. And if you’re so concerned about the staff going off on ‘adventures...’” He went over to the bookshelf to the right of the desk and lit up his horn briefly. After a second, though, he cut off his magic with a frown and pointed to a particularly large volume. “Would you mind grabbing that for me?” he asked. “It might be too heavy for my horn at the moment.” Neighsay obliged, settling himself into Twilight’s chair as he levitated the book off the shelf and over to the desk. “Those adventures are a concern,” he said. “I’m well aware that Princess Twilight and her friends are the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony and that has obligated them to act in Equestria’s defense in the past. Now, however, they’ve chosen to take on the responsibility of teaching without retiring from their previous commitments, and I worry where their true priorities lie.” He looked down at the massive volume on the desk and asked, “What is this?” “That,” Ash said, coming back to the desk, “is the current edition of the School’s rules and guidelines for operation. I recall Twilight providing you a copy when she reopened the school, but I don’t think you actually took it. Anyhow,” he turned the book around and flipped through it, “if I can find… Ah, here we go.” He turned the book back around so Neighsay could read. Pointing to a section of page, Ash said, “There are detailed provisions for what to do in the case of one or more of the teachers being called upon for Friendship Missions – the adventures you’re concerned about – on the days they’re supposed to be teaching. It’s a complex network of who will sub for who based on the day of the week, expected time needed for the mission, and distance, but it boils down to always having enough faculty on the grounds during school hours to keep classes going and students properly supervised so long as no more than the usual two Bearers are called upon.” Chancellor Neighsay raised an eyebrow. “And what if all six Bearers are needed at once?” he asked. Ash shut the book and looked the Chancellor square in the eye. “If full force of the Elements of Harmony is needed,” he said, “then we’d have ourselves a situation where the students – not to mention anypony else in the area – would likely be better off seeking shelter than attending classes. Things like attacks by a foreign power, or yet another evil monster arising from a thousand-year nap. And while that may happen with annoying frequency, it’s far from an everyday concern. The priority should be obvious: we keep this School running unless or until Equestria as a whole is under threat, in which case we step up to protect everyone. Is that a problem for you, Chancellor?” Neighsay was stunned speechless by Ash’s intensity. He took another look at the book, mentally compared it to the size of the EEA guidelines, and pushed his chair back enough to allow him to get out of it easily. “To be perfectly clear,” he said, hefting the book up in his magic and returning it to the shelf, “I still do not approve of this School, and will not so long as you insist on permitting foreign interests to attend. However, it’s clear that Twilight Sparkle has put an exceptional amount of work into codifying the school’s standards procedures, and you, Ashen Blaze, are clearly not a unicorn to be crossed even with a damaged horn. Perhaps this school isn’t quite the impending disaster I thought it was.” “Glad to hear we’ve risen in your estimation,” Ash deadpanned. “Now, if that’s all you want to discuss...” He gave the Chancellor a challenging look. “It will do for now,” Neighsay replied calmly. “Although, I would appreciate it if you would inform the Princess of my… interest in the state of her school going forward.” “I’ll tell her,” Ash promised, “but I doubt she’ll see it as news. Now, shall I escort you to the door, Chancellor?” he asked with a cold smile. “No need,” Neighsay replied, tapping his badge and opening a portal. “I can see myself out.” As Neighsay stepped through the portal, Ash heaved a sigh. “Fine,” he muttered, rolling his eyes, “I’ll just dunk you next time, then.”