//------------------------------// // Kettle Meadow // Story: The Little Curiosities // by Comma Typer //------------------------------// “All I’m saying is that it would be both fun and educational if you came over for the first day of classes, Miss Meadowbrook.” The esteemed mage from Equestria sits across the table. The Celestia in this world, this principal in her rather mundane if very modern uniform, is a world of difference from the Celestia she is familiar with, the princess in all her present-day and millenium-old regality and formality. “I will try, Miss Celestia,” says Meadowbrook kindly. “My specialty is medicine and healing, though. I hold no ill will towards you, but I don’t think I’d be willing to get animals sick just for a demonstration.” “Oh, I am not asking you to do such a thing. Still, there must be something you do know of that is… how shall I put it?… flashy.” Meadowbrook ponders on the thought for a moment. “I know a few.” “So, will you?” A bit of desperation in her voice: in a world teeming with the real-life fantasies of fairy tales, children have retained that uncanny disdain against organized and regimented education. This has remained true even for the newly-added and supposedly stimulating subject of alchemy. Meadowbrook hums along. “No guarantees if it’ll be a success, ma’am, but I’ll be there….” “Oh, that’s good! And….” The principal’s wide smile twitches as she stares past the shoulder of her guest. The sorcerer looks swiftly behind her. There is nothing now, though she swears she could’ve seen some sort of hat passing by the door’s window. “What was that?” Meadowbrook asks, still on the alert. She could hear a sigh from the principal. “Snoopers. They always try to stay a step ahead of me with pranks and other surprises.” “Even during summer vacation?” Celestia taps her chin before taking a deep breath of relaxation. “Not really… but I would like to put it all under the benefit of the doubt. There are a couple students and alumni here, as you’ve seen, but it’s to set up the clubs for the coming school year. Not even the class clowns would try their tricks this time of year. Now, where were we?…” When Mage Meadowbrook returned from limbo, seeing modern-day Equestria was already a big enough surprise. Seeing modern-day Earth, then, was enough to knock her socks off: all the glories of Manehattan were somehow set even further into the future with Canterlot City’s televisions, smartphones, computers, and Internet, among other non-magic marvels. She even wondered if she could replicate their functions with her own sorcery back home. But the thoughts are banished from her mind as she notices the teacher in the classroom giving the cue. Having stayed outside in the empty school hallway for the past ten minutes or so, Miss Hibiscus is wrapping up the orientation for Alchemy with the announcement of a surprise guest. Once she hears her name muffled through the door, Mage Meadowbrook steps in. The classroom looks like a study right out of a book series centered around wizards, magic schools, and the occasional villain killing the protagonist’s parents while the hero was yet a baby. To a former human, it looks like a science lab but with less monochrome metals and plastics and with more brown timber and scrolls, furnished with spell books, magic ingredients, and containers ranging from test tubes to full-on cauldrons. A few students look bored; it is enough to worry the mage, but she keeps that worry from expressing itself on her face. “Good morning!” she declares to all her temporary teenage scholars. “Miss Hisbiscus here introduced me to you all, but, in case you haven’t known—“ “You’re one of them old Pillar ponies, aren’t you?” asks a pegasus raising his wing. Meadowbrook nods. “Why, yes.” The whole class gasps and cries out in astonishment, gazing upon her. Now, she is classified as one of the cool teachers; a shame, then, that she is only a guest teacher, but they already start hoping for her return. “Is it true that you’re over a thousand years old?!” pips up another student, scrutnizing the mage’s face which certainly fits the range of late twenties to early thirties. “Not necessarily,” she replies with a giggle, “especially when limbo was more like being transported forward in time, but enough of myself. I’m here to show you what alchemy can do in your hooves!” And at that, she steps up to the big cauldron by the teacher’s desk, and as much as Miss Hibiscus is concerned about the students probably stampeding the Equestrian visitor, Meadowbrook welcomes them. The mage brings out a couple of leaves and a few pouches of powder, putting them up on the desk for the students to see and touch and ask about but not to ingest, of course. “What are you going to do?” inquires a griffon. “Why… well—“ she turns to the rest of the class with a sweeping view of the room “—is there anyone here that is sick among you?” There is none among them. No raised hoof, wing, or other appendage. Disappointment rises up within her, but she keeps that smile on. “That’s good! No one is sick today, though you may know me as more of a healing sorcerer. However, as you know, potions can do more than healing: they can poison someone or cure them of said poison; they can be lethal in one sip or be used to bring life even to inanimate objects; they can change how you look like how a changeling does or give you powers for a limited time… ah, but we’ll make something whimsical today: Who wants to float around in the air for a few minutes?” More gasps surround her, especially among the wingless students. The opportunity to fly despite getting a flightless species in the transformation dice roll excites their imaginations. “Alright!” Meadowbrook says. ”Now you… high schoolers, as they say these days, should stand back. This could get explosive.” With that, Meadowbrook brings out the first flower in her arsenal, already putting it over the bubbling cauldron, happy that Miss Hibiscus remembered to heat the pot beforehoof. “So, the first thing that we’re going to put in is this—“ “Teacup!” A magic beam strikes Meadowbrook. She turns into a teacup and falls to the floor, fortunately not breaking into pieces. After screaming in horror, the pupils turn to the unicorn who has just opened the door, decked out in her typical wizard garb, pointed hat and all. “And that is how magic should be done, mares and gentlestallion!” proclaims Trixie. “I learned that spell while I trained under Equestrian mages, by the way.” “She’s an Equestrian mage too, you dolt!” Miss Hibiscus yells. “Tomato, to-mah-to! Same diff.” Trixie crosses her forelegs and bows before her impromptu audience. “Also, if you didn’t know, kids, I used to study here. Just graduated last school year and now I’m a part of a traveling magic show slash band. Plus, I would like to thank my spy network for shadowing Principal Celestia so I can do this trick!”—never revealing that she was the only spy in that so-called spy network. “Can you turn her back?!” demands the teacher. Trixie blinks at that. “You mean… turn her back… into a pony, right?” “Yes!” The great and powerful magician furrows her brows at this conundrum. A sweat breaks out here and there, and she scratches the mane under her hat. “I’ll get back to you on that in… say, twenty-four hours! I’ll just, um… heh-heh, pick up this Equestrian mage of a teacup and bring her back home! All would be swell, right?” “Trixie, you—“ She smoke bombs out of the place, galloping her way to the portal in downtown Canterlot while holding on to the teacup for dear life.