Twilight galloped down the cobblestone walkway of the small campus. She grumbled and muttered under her breath as she examined and re-examined her class schedule.
“How could I have gone a whole semester and not attended even one class?” she cried. She reached an intersection in the path and stopped, looking around at the various buildings. Did she even know where she was going? What even was this class? She looked at her schedule again.
Equestrian Literature.
“A Ponish class?” she groaned, “My whole academic career hinges on a Ponish class?” More grumbling as she placed the paper back in her saddle bag.
Somehow, this didn't seem right. This would have been an elective course at Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns. How could she have completely forgotten about it? Surely, a class she would have taken on her own volition she would have remembered and looked forward to.
However, there was no time to think. She needed to move or risk being late.
She took off in the direction of the building that housed the classrooms for all the non-magic classes. It was much smaller than the main building and partially hidden off to the side.
Twilight barreled through the double doors, through the foyer and dashed down the hall. As she passed the doors, she glanced at each one, reading the room numbers.
Not seeing her classroom, she progressed onto the next level.
As she moved through the hall, it dawned upon her that she hadn't read any of the materials for the class. She wouldn't know what was going on. What if she walked in and they were having a test? Sure, she felt comfortable enough in her own knowledge of the subject and could probably wing it. But, even if she got a passing mark, what would that do to her overall grade? What would that do to her grade point average?
Twilight stopped, a cold bead of sweat slipped down her face. Either way, her perfect A average was ruined.
“No,” she gritted her teeth, “I can't let that happen. I'll do anything to prevent that from happening.” She looked down the hall with determination. It quickly melted to despair. She needed to find her classroom first.
She looked at her schedule again for the room number. 207.
She looked up at the door in front of her. 339.
“Hmm,” she frowned, walking toward the stairwell, “Thought for sure I was on the second floor...”
Twilight descended the stairs to the next level and trotted down the hallway. She didn't care if a teacher or hall monitor yelled at her—she just needed to get to class.
Eventually, it came into view. Sliding into the room, she took a seat at the nearest available desk.
Quite winded from her sprint, she took a while to catch her breath. Taking in deep breaths, she looked around at her fellow classmates. She glanced at the textbooks on their desks. Something about them seemed wrong. They didn't look like literature books.
“Excuse me,” Twilight said to a colt seated nearby, “is this Ms. Quill's class?”
The colt shook his head, “This is Mr. Diggs's history class.”
“But, my schedule says this is Ms. Quill's class.”
“We had to move the second week because of a leak in the ceiling,” the colt explained, “I don't know where Ms. Quill moved to.”
Twilight released a long sigh, thanked the colt, and returned to the hall more hopeless than before. She sat outside the door to think. “There has to be some way of figuring out where she moved to,” she reasoned. Simply wandering the halls was not a viable option.
Twilight jumped to her hooves. “Of course!” she said aloud, “The office has to know where they moved to!”
Before she could be yelled at for her outburst, Twilight galloped back to the stairs and to the building's offices on the first floor.
Extremely winded, she didn't see the scowls and glares the office staff were giving her.
“Can I help you, Miss Sparkle?” an elderly mare said sternly.
“Yes,” Twilight gasped, “I'm looking for Ms. Quill's classroom.”
“Well, let's see.” The mare pulled out a list from a drawer and slowly began to read down it. “Ah, yes,” she said at long last, “Ms. Quill is in room 413.”
Twilight nearly died at the prospect of running up eight flights of stairs. All the same, she thanked the secretary and left.
Looking up the bottom of the stairs, Twilight did everything to strengthen her resolve. “Okay,” she coached herself, “Don't think about it, just do it.” With a deep breath, she sprinted up the first flight. Stopping on the landing, she released her breath. That wasn't so bad. Just seven more. She pawed at the floor and grinned to herself, “I can do this!”
Twilight looked ahead. How many more stairs. She though for sure she would be at the top right now. The building only had four floors, so there was no way of overshooting her target.
At last, she saw it—the top of the stairs!
She dragged herself up the final steps and onto the last landing. No time to breath, she pushed onward through the double doors and into the hall.
Her goal within sight, Twilight found a new burst of energy. She whizzed down the hall, taking careful note of the room numbers, till finally she chanced upon room 413. A high sigh of relief, she plunged through the door and dropped into a seat just in time for Ms. Quill to call roll.
Twilight couldn't believe her luck. Not only did she finally make it to her class, but she was also on time! She listened intently as students' names were read from the list, paying close attention for hers to be called.
“Ah, Lighthoof,” Ms. Quill said, looking up from her paper, “so good of you to finally come to class.”
Giggles and snickers erupted from the students. The colt in question just shrugged.
“I hope you don't miss anymore,” continued the professor, “Otherwise, I will have to drop you.” She continued down the list. Roll complete, she instructed the students to turn to their last reading assignment.
Twilight found it odd how her name wasn't called. Could she have missed too many classes? Maybe, Ms. Quill accidentally missed her.
Twilight had to know. She stood up from her seat and raised her hoof. “Ms. Quill?”
Ms. Quill seemed a bit surprised by the call, but answered kindly.
“You didn't call my name,” Twilight said.
The professor looked slightly confused. “I didn't?” She reviewed her list again. “No, I called everypony.”
“You sure?” Twilight pressed, “'Twilight Sparkle' is not on that list?”
The named seemed to be familiar to Ms. Quill. She muttered it over and over as she dug through her various stacks of papers. “Ah, here we go,” she said, pulling out a sheet of paper, “But, you're not in this class.”
A lump jumped into Twilight's throat, “I'm not?”
Ms. Quill shook her head.
“But, isn't this Equestrian Literature?”
“You're in the Monday, Wednesday class,” said Ms. Quill, “Today is Tuesday.”
Twilight froze. Tuesday? How could she have messed that up? Her heart started pounding. If she wasn't supposed to be here, then where was she supposed to be?
She frantically pulled out her schedule and searched it for the correct class. She was supposed to be in Theory of Magical Spells and Enchantments—in the other building.
Twilight let out a groan and banged her head upon the desk. “Just throw me out the window,” she whimpered, “Please.”
Of course, the professor was about to do no such thing. So, Twilight was relegated to go back down the stairs.
---
Twilight woke up before she could reach the bottom of the stairs. She rubbed her eyes as reality slowly made itself known to her.
A chuckle passed her lips. “It was all a dream,” she sighed, greatly relieved, “I was asleep this whole time.” She paused. “I was asleep this whole time... What time is it?”
She forced herself to glance at her clock before jumping out of bed and galloping out the bedroom door and down the hall. Halfway, she passed Spike.
“Morning, Twilight!” smiled the dragon. He waved to her and was a little disappointed when she passed him by. Perplexed, he flew after her, “What's the rush?”
“I'm late, Spike!” Twilight said without slowing down, “Where's my saddlebag?”
“Late?” Spike frowned, “Late for what?”
“Class!” She skid to a halt when Spike landed right in front of her.
“You don't have class,”
“What?”
“You haven't gone to school in years,” Spike explained, “And you handed off all your teaching duties months ago.” He gave Twilight a good look-over, “Are you okay?”
Twilight collapsed onto the stone castle floor. “I—I think so.”
Spike gently patted her head. “Okay... You need a little more time to wake up. How about some breakfast?”
“Yeah,” Twilight nodded, “that sounds good.” She watched as Spike walked off to fetch her some food. Slowly, everything started coming back to her.
She wasn't a student.
There were no assignments to write; no subjects to research.
She didn't have to worry about professors, lessons, scores, or grades.
Instead, she had deliberations and meetings.
She had ponies waiting on her to abrogate their problems.
And she didn't quite know how to feel about that.