The tidy office that was his sanctuary was now feeling more like a cage. The previous day had been long, tiring, and more than a little unnerving. The attention his little school had garnered was as unwelcomed as it was understandable. For Headmaster Smith, it was proving to be a headache. He had spent the day in meetings with people he would have otherwise been lucky to have been given a cursory introduction. All the scrutiny was due to having been lucky enough to have two known ponies as students. The eyes of the government were firmly on his tiny domain. He could now empathize with his primitive cousins' preference for putrid projectiles.
There had been warnings for him not to pry too deeply. Those warnings did not seem to extend to the officious observers that plagued the campus. Despite the apparently open nature of the dimensional travelers, the higher ups were positive they were keeping secrets. After all, it was only to be expected. Their ambassador had stated that human-pony relations were relatively new; the confirmation of at least six young pony children raised on Earth was evidence that their definition of "new" included at least a decade of interaction. That was logical since their leaders were rumored to be immortal, and, unlike the past emperors of China, they seemed to have the years to back up that claim.
Due to the uncertainties and unreliability of records, the children were to be the main focus of the scrutiny. After all, the ponies were allies of the wizards, people who had been proven to not be above changing physical records and memories to suit their purposes. The paperwork showing the long residence of the elder ponies was not only suspect; it was almost certainly a forgery. This deduction was supported by the fact that one group of ponies officially had no living relatives, despite their well-documented history.
As for the family that had children in his school, expert opinion was that it was the result of a mixed marriage. The mother was indisputably a pony, despite never showing her true form. After all, all three of her children were at least half pony. Furthermore, documentation on her first husband was sparse, to say the least. That and the fact that her parents were officially deceased pointed toward her being injected into human society rather than being a native.
The husband, on the other hand, was almost certainly human. His parents were still alive; in fact, they had recently moved into their son’s home. It was assumed they would be taking over the eldest child's bedroom since he would be away at boarding school for the majority of the year. The home would be small for the family, but manageable. There were already plans in place to obtain better-paying jobs for the parents and thoughts towards providing a larger residence, a task that would take time simply because the alternatives would reveal the government's involvement. Thus, a contest with a new house as the main prize was being arranged; the winners predetermined.
After a long bout of meetings in which he had primarily been an observer, the headmaster had headed home for a relaxing evening. The next day would come when it came. However, his wife had had other ideas. Several teachers from his school were her friends, and they had informed her that there were ponies attending. As soon as he had entered their home, his wife had started the interrogation, making the night pass at an antagonizing crawl. She had continued her questioning at the breakfast table, undeterred by the fact that she already knew everything he did.
It was almost a relief to arrive at the school the next day, a comfort that was quelled by the presence of the specialists awaiting his arrival. The teacher overseeing the youngest would have an assistant with more qualifications than he himself could claim. And what were they thinking, assigning a nutritionist to the cafeteria? At least the entire school population would be benefiting from that addition, even if no one liked alfalfa sprouts.
The headmaster had been anticipating an eventful day, but he had his expectations blown out of the water when the children of the hour finally arrived. They and their grandmother were promptly escorted into his office, and they had a new student with them.
“Good morning Headmaster . . .” the elderly woman said, trailing off on the last word.
The headmaster stared at the newest addition for a few seconds before shaking himself out of the trance and answering. “Smith,” he said, pointing at the nameplate on his desk. “Headmaster Smith. Good morning, Mrs. Thomas, Miss Thomas, and Miss Thomas, and who is our new friend here?”
“Licenta,” stated the curiosity.
“Good morning, Licenta,” the headmaster greeted, offering a genuine smile.
“Good morning,” said the strange child.
“How may I be of assistance today?” the headmaster asked, keeping his eyes on the newcomer.
“I’m here for Dean’s broom,” the old lady said. “Eva should not have taken it from his trunk, and she will not be flying it to school anymore.” There was a frown directed at the older Thomas girl. “Also, I believe Licenta is here to attend primary.”
“She is now?” asked the headmaster.
“You said all of our equine friends were welcome,” Eva pointedly said.
“So, I did,” agreed Headmaster Smith. Today was already proving to be more memorable than the day before.
It was a lazy winter morning. Nature, for the most part, slept soundly beneath a chilled white blanket. The only real activity was from the ponies. Mild cold did not stop them from going about their business, and despite the hour, there were a good number out and about. Many were planning on purchasing a tasty breakfast; Pinkie had recently introduced several new items to the menu, all featuring a secret ingredient. The only way to even have a chance at tasting the delights was to get there early, before they were all gone.
It was mute testimony to the general mindset of the townsponies when a fireball flared up in the middle of the street; the reaction was not a mass exodus peppered with terror. Rather, there was a uniform turning of heads to get a closer look. The scene had become so commonplace that there wasn’t even a single sigh of relief when the cause turned out to be a familiar bird of fire. It was who she had brought with her that garnered their undivided attention.
“Well helloooooo there.” Cherry Berry was the first to speak as she and several other mares rapidly trotted up to greet the stranger.
“Er . . . Hello,” said the slightly dazed muggle studies professor. “What just happened?”
“Traveling with Philomena is disorientating, so I hear,” said Taro Root. “Welcome to Ponyville.” She nudged a little closer.
“Um . . . Thank you,” said the human. “I wasn’t exactly planning on this visit.”
“Well, it’s a happy surprise then,” said Hallowed Candle. “You certainly are most welcome.”
“Are you male?” piped up Umber Shine, cutting through the small talk.
“I think he is,” said Cherry Berry. “He doesn’t have those bumps on his barrel like Applejack does when she’s human.”
“Rainbow Dash doesn’t have them either,” Umber Shine countered.
“Is that really saying much?” asked Banana Fluff.
“So,” Umber Shine directed at the human. “Are you male?”
“That’s what my mother tells me,” the human responded. “Does anyone know how I’m supposed to get back?”
A murmur rustled through the growing crowd and several mares inched closer.
“What’s the rush?” Lily Valley asked. “Wouldn’t you rather stay for breakfast? They have some new delights at Sugarcube Corner; my treat.”
“I’m afraid I already have plans for breakfast.” The human was starting to feel claustrophobic. “Besides, I don’t want to be late on the first day.”
“Pfft,” said Roseluck. “I’m sure there’s plenty of time, time best used to get to know each other.” She batted her eyelashes.
“Yes,” said Vanilla Cream hungrily. “You certainly look tastier than cake. Don’t you want to stick around? You should be able to do that.”
“I really must be going,” said the human, realizing that he was surrounded and wasn’t going to be able to run like the young man with messy black hair had suggested. Was the bird on his shoulder laughing? Birds don’t do that. Do they?
“But you just got here,” said Daisy. “I’m sure we could make it worth your while.”
“Er,” said the human. “I do have responsibilities to attend to.” That bird was definitely laughing.
“There’s a time for responsibility, and then there’s a time for fun,” said Banana Fluff. “I’d say now is the time for fun.”
“Did you bring pepper-up potions?” asked Umber Shine out of the blue. “I hear good things about pepper-up potions.”
“Um,” said the human. “Madam Pomfrey has forbidden their use for at least the next month.” The purple-haired girl hadn’t been joking; there were at least four unicorns in the crowd, not to mention the six pegasus mares hovering in closer.
“What a killjoy.” Ember Glow said with a pout. “I’m sure we could make do without, though.”
The bird fell off his shoulder and started rolling on the ground, holding her sides, all the while making peculiar squawking noises.
“Um,” said the muggle studies professor. “I really need to get going. I’m not dressed for this weather.” The sweat starting to bead on his forehead belied his implications.
“We can keep you warm,” offered Indigo Tinge. “There’s nice hot cocoa waiting at Sugarcube.” She blushed as the next words came out. “Not to mention the other ways of warming up.”
The bird was throwing off sparks as she rolled around.
“Maybe another time.” That had been the wrong response, judging by all of the ears perking up. “I really must be going now.” The human reached down and scooped up the bird.
“Is that a promise?” asked Vanilla Cream.
“You wouldn’t lie to us?” asked Taro Root. “That would be mean.”
“How does this thing work?” the muggle studies Professor gave the bird an experimental squeeze, resulting in more squawks and a few tears of laughter.
“Wait! Girls!” Cherry Berry exclaimed. “Remember, we have to ask. The mayor will be mad if we don’t, after that incident at the Rat’s Nest.”
“Oh right!”
“I forgot.”
“It would be a good idea.”
“We don’t want to poach.”
The human shook the bird, vigorously, trying to get the desired response.
“So,” asked Cherry Berry, “are you married?”
“Why yes,” the muggle studies professor lied, proving that he had two brain cells to rub together. “Yes, I am.” The briskness of his response verified that he well exceeded that minimum requirement.
The ball of flames behind the head table and the subsequent arrival of a professor drew cheers and applause from the muggle-born table and a few curious glances from the rest of the student body.
“That was quick,” Professor Vector said, looking over her shoulder as the phoenix launched herself from the man’s shoulder and glided over toward the Gryffindors’ table.
“There is entirely too much kidnapping of professors going on around here,” stated the muggle studies professor. “It needs to be put in the job description for all future hires.”
“So,” asked Professor Babbling, “are congratulations in order?”
“He wasn’t gone that long,” commented Berrytwist. “There wasn’t time for a bath or shower, let alone drying off afterwards.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Professor Goodman asked.
Berrytwist tapped a hoof on the side of her muzzle. “Humans have an abysmal sense of smell.”
“That’s how you knew!” Professor Marcy Weiss blurted.
“These ears aren’t just for show, either,” Berrytwist stated as she angled them toward the history professor.
“Knew what?” Professor Sprout asked.
“Um, me and Richard were having a discussion last night.” Marcy blushed. “She decided to join in despite the closed door.”
“That’s a new definition for the word 'discussion'.” Berrytwist smirked.
“Pay up!” commanded Trelawney.
“Wait!” said Professor Sprout. “Weren’t you banned?”
“This is from before that travesty.” Trelawney responded smugly.
Heavy gold coins slid across the table toward the divination professor, accompanied by much grumbling.
“Does she have any more outstanding bets?” Professor Goodman asked.
“Just that Minerva would hook up with a pony before the end of the term,” Professor Sprout noted.
“I keep telling you, I’m too old,” Professor McGonagall protested, looking up from her meal with wide eyes.
“It’s past time you moved on.” Trelawney shrugged.
“By the way,” Professor Flitwick said, addressing the new couple . . . ménage a trois . . . herd. “You were given the rest of the term to sort this out. Couldn’t you have waited at least a week?”
“Why wait?” asked Berrytwist. “Everypony else already saw something there that we missed.”
“You do know what this means?” Professor Vector asked. “You are aware of the consequences?”
“They weren’t exactly on the forefront of our minds at the time,” Marcy admitted.
“No regrets here,” added Professor Goodman.
“You say consequences; I say perks,” Berrytwist said, attacking her toast.
“Wait,” Professor Sprout said. “I thought you were still restricted to your pony form.”
“Human hands can remove the ring from around my horn,” Berrytwist said around a mouthful. “And another ring can be passed around.”
“The details can wait until after there aren’t children within earshot,” Professor McGonagall firmly said.
“Hello,” said the muggle studies professor. “I was just abducted against my will over here.”
“That’s old news,” said Professor Vector.
Fay was used to a lot of unusual sights; thus, when she entered her common room, the flying cake of soap wasn’t a surprise. The parrot frantically flapping its wings being chased by the beauty product was new, though.
“What’s with the bird?” Fay asked of the group watching the two do laps around the room.
“No idea,” said Angelina. “He just appeared, complaining about being blown off course, using some very colorful language.”
“Colorful language?” Fay queried.
Angelina narrowed her eyes slightly. “Do I look like I want to be Brown’s pet’s next target?”
“I need someone to cast reparo on my pocket.” Brown sighed. “Again.”
“Are you %$^%%$s going to $%%$@#$ help me?” demanded the fleeing bird.
“He seems rather intelligent,” Fay noted as another lap was completed.
“He can’t be that smart,” Patil noted. “He hasn’t stopped cursing yet.”
“I don’t $%&%#$% believe this!”
“See?” said Patil
“Does he have a peg leg?” Fay asked.
“And an eye patch.” Potter nodded his head.
“That’s almost too cliché to comment on,” Granger said.
“I better be getting a &#$%#@% cracker for this!” the parrot screamed. “Do you $%%#$# hear me? Polly wants a #$#@%$#$$# cracker!”
“You’re right,” Fay said. “He isn’t that smart after all.”
In an amazing show of dexterity, the bird gave her the bird, despite the obvious lack of required digits and the abysmal aerodynamics.
“That little bugger can move,” said Finnigan.
“The parrot or the soap?” Thomas asked.
“Yes,” replied Finnigan.
“This isn’t $%@$%#$ funny!” cried the bird, performing a sharp bank.
“I wonder how long he can keep this up,” commented Potter.
“I wonder if he’s got Tourette's,” mused Lovegood.
“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work that way,” countered Granger.
“Stop with the $@#%#$# commentary and get this ^#^#%# thing off my $@&*!”
“He does seem incapable of learning,” Fay said.
“I’d #@$# on your head if I wasn’t %$@$# busy!”
“He’s got to be tiring,” Fay noted. “How’d you say he got in again?”
“He just appeared,” Longbottom said.
“^%$@ me! I $#$%@@# forgot!” The parrot screamed before disappearing into an orthogonal dimension, followed closely by his pursuer.
“My soap!” Brown called out in alarm.
“Good $#$%@@# riddance,” said Angelina.
“But it’s so good at cleaning those hard to reach places.” Brown pouted.
“Really?” asked Alicia.
“Too much information,” added Angelina.
“And it doesn’t seem to be getting any smaller with use.” Brown nodded.
“Still, I don’t think its benefits outweigh its faults,” Said Angelina.
“Well, that was odd,” Fay said, before continuing on her way to the girls’ dorms.
The youngest Weasley said, "You should see Tuesdays in Ponyville."
Professor McGonagall sighed as she looked across her desk. “Miss Belle, I was under the impression I asked for you to come alone. I just have a few questions for you.”
“Actually, ma’am, the message we got was to not bring the entire herd.” Sweetie Belle lowered her head slightly in embarrassment. “That’s why I only brought Apple Bloom, Abagail, and Scootaloo.”
“Magah!” said the other occupant of the office.
“And Magah, of course,” finished Sweetie Belle.
“And where is Philomena?” asked Professor McGonagall.
“I sent her with Spike to get his new wand. We figured it would be a good idea for her to be out of the castle for a while after that incident this morning,” Sweetie Belle said.
“I can see the wisdom in that,” Professor McGonagall said. “However, I was hoping that you could shed some light on the owl I received a little while ago. It would seem that your phoenix flamed in, yanked several hairs from your sister’s tail before flaming out again. Would you care to enlighten me as to why Philomena might do this? Judging by the letter, your sister is quite miffed.”
“I have no idea why Philomena would have done that.” Sweetie Belle sweated, suddenly very glad that she wouldn’t be home for a few months.
Olivander looked down across the counter after ringing up the order. “Mr. Black, your custom order shall be finished in a week. Getting the curl out of the tail hairs will not be an issue. Are you positive I cannot interest you in a better suited temporary wand for the duration?”
The boy with green hair and the bird on his shoulder both looked back defiantly. “I don’t care if it is better suited. I am not using a wand filled with a dragon’s heart string.”
It was a wobbly pony who exited the school's infirmary. Whoever heard of warning magic that knocked you off your hooves for twenty-four hours? And there were supposed to be stronger dissuasions after that one. Whatever was behind that door could stay there as far as she was concerned -- with the sole exception of the stallion. She swore, if they were letting that other human beat on her ward again, she’d introduce them to her hooves.
“I see it was no mistake. You are on your hooves and awake.”
Startled that somepony had managed to sneak up on her, the bat pony looked up at the human standing before her. “Hello? Yes, I am awake. May I help you?” This human was one of the rare ones with a darker hide. The black and white striped mohawk she wore was worryingly familiar.
“Now is not the time to be charming.” The human frowned down at her. “I find your presence most alarming.”
“Alarming? Me?” The bat pony looked confused. “Oh, no, I wasn’t really hurt by that door yesterday. That’s no reason for you to worry.”
“My worry lies not with any mysterious door.” The human was still frowning. “My fear is your threat to our stallion, now and before.”
“Your stallion?” The bat pony’s ears laid back on her head when the realization struck. “You’re that zebra . . . Of course, you’re that zebra. Who else goes around rhyming all the time?”
“A zebra I am; nose, mane, and ear. The question is why are you over here?”
“I knew we were going to have this conversation sooner or later.” The bat pony looked up steadily. “But I have got to say, your timing is terrible. I just spent the night twitching constantly on a hospital bed. I don’t suppose you’d give a pony a break and come back tomorrow?”
“I say quite firmly; your request is one I find I must deny. Unless you want my wife here serving you up with ketchup on rye.”
“You do know, all that rhyming coupled with being human makes you hard to read.” The bat pony sighed. “I can’t tell if you are being facetious, threatening, or conversational.”
The zebra took a breath to answer, but the pony raised a hoof to stop her. “Look, I understand your point of view. We didn’t exactly get off to a good start. My coven and I covered some sky that is pretty much unforgivable.” She placed her hoof back on the ground. “Be that as it may, the elders sent me to keep your stallion safe. I am not to interfere with your relationship. I am not to force my way into your herd. I am not to raise my hoof against you in any way. I am to be a submissive little minion with only your herd’s safety as a goal.”
She sat down on her haunches to make the room more stable. “You have every right to be both wary and angry, but please understand how important your stallion and his offspring are to my people. There is little we wouldn’t give for an influx of new blood. Do you want one of our stallions as an addition to your herd? You can have one if you let two of our mares join as well. Do you want my blood for my transgressions against you? I’ll spill it for you myself. I am at your mercy. My race is at your mercy. We are desperate and you have us by the short hairs of our tails.”
“You come bearing promises and guilt. Before this barrage I will not wilt.”
“What do you want from us?”
“I’ve nothing up my sleeve. My wish is for you to leave.”
“I cannot do that.” The pony shook her head. “Even if you claim my life as payment, another will be sent in my stead.”
“There is no need to be morbid, your life we will not claim. Such a choice would result in a long and tiring shell game.” The frown did not leave the zebra-turned-human’s face. “You shall be given the chance to show your true worth. Tell me, do the princesses know you are on Earth?”
“Did you swallow a rhyming dictionary? I'm sorry, but the whole rhyming thing is more than a little impressive.”
“Enough with your attempts to deflect. Tell me was my assumption correct?”
The pony shrugged. “It’s not like anypony is guarding all those owls they have at the palace.”
The zebra-turned-human huffed and crossed her arms.
From the confines of her comfortably-furnished room, the unicorn mare realized it was pathetic how much she needed this job. While she was careful to live within her means, the seasonal nature of her work generally meant that at the end of each year, she had to scramble to ensure that she had a position at the beginning of the next. All it had taken to upend her world was one finicky noble family deciding that they were moving to one of their vacation homes for an indefinite period and opting for local labor. Fortunately, the termination clause had left her with enough money to live comfortably for another year.
Deprived of her duties, she had resigned herself to a solitary existence in a tiny apartment. Just as quickly as she had been plunged into the depths of depression, she had been rocketed to the heights of ecstasy. All it had taken was a recommendation from the school that had sent her to the palace with the promise of a new contract. She had smiled at the prospect of moving into the servants' quarters; there, she could count on the company of other ponies. Such highs and lows were all part of the life of a live-in tutor.
The palace had turned out to be a red herring of the highest order; it was nothing more than a rendezvous point. Once there, the pony she had been instructed to contact had stuffed her into an owl's pouch. She still could not fathom how she could have fit into something so small. She suspected it had something to do with the rumors concerning the spirit of chaos being a constant visitor. If he wasn’t involved somehow, she’d eat her hat. Though, considering her favorite hat was made of straw, a little hot sauce would convert it into a tasty snack.
The owl had transported her to a passably nice mansion to meet the strange creatures who would be her clients. Apparently, their daughter would be attending the school and had the ability to change between their bizarre forms and a proper unicorn foal. Granted, the foal was a striking golden color, but otherwise, she was undistinguishable from any child of high birth.
This was going to be an interesting assignment.
Where was she? She looked around, trying to get her bearings. That’s right; this was the palace.
How had she gotten here?
She stopped to think. She couldn’t remember. No . . . wait . . . it was the party.
Had she passed out drunk at the party?
Shouldn’t she have a hangover?
She didn’t feel right.
She didn’t feel anything.
There were a couple of custodian ponies over there. Why only two? Did they clean up after the party all by themselves? She’d have to ask.
“Hello,” she said when she was in range.
He didn’t appear to hear her, so she coughed and tried again.
“Hello? Excuse me?”
“Yes ma’am?” he said, looking up from where he had been scrubbing the floor. As soon as he saw her, his eyes went wide and his pupils shrank to pinpricks.
“I’m sort of lost,” she said.
“Ga . . . Ga . . . Ga . . .” was his reply.
“Well, maybe lost is the wrong word.”
“Ga . . . Ga . . . Ga . . .”
“Confused would be a better description.”
“Ga . . . Ga . . . Ga . . .” The stallion was shaking now. What was his problem?
“Are you all right?” she asked, her voice filled with worry.
It was at that point that his partner also looked up. “Rinse, what’s the matter with you. Answer the m . . .” It was his turn to stare. “Oh . . .” he whispered. “That’s what you were trying to say.”
“Ga . . . Ga . . . Ga . . .” sputtered the first stallion.
Without another word, the second stallion broke into a gallop, stopped, came back to grab his friend by his tail then proceeded to leave as fast as his legs would carry them.
Well, that was rude.
She had no idea how long she stood there staring after them.
“Ahem.” A voice came from behind her after a while.
Shaking her head, she turned to address the speaker, only to find herself muzzle to muzzle with the Princess of the Night. That was funny; wasn’t the princess supposed to be taller?
“Thou art an unexpected visitor,” said Princess Luna.
She shuffled her hooves, embarrassed by the scrutiny. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be here. I don’t mean to cause any problems.”
The princess blinked, as if surprised by her response. “Nonetheless, we must proclaim our overwhelming pride for thy actions. Know that our sister has decreed thy name synonymous with honor. Know that the colt lives because of you.”
It was her turn to blink in surprise. “Um, thank you?"
“Dost thou intend on gracing these halls with thy presence for the foreseeable future?”
“I’m not exactly sure what’s happening here,” she replied.
“We see,” said Princess Luna. “Be not rushed. Thou art most welcome. Thy deed hast earned thou all the hospitality we may offer.”
“Um, thank you?”
“Please excuse us; we must inform our sister.”
“Don’t let me keep you, your highness,” she said, otherwise at a loss for words.
The princess bowed and backed away.
The princess had bowed to her!
She clumsily returned the gesture.
What was going on here?
She was once more left confused as the princess retreated.
What was going on here?
She happened to look down and noticed she was flying.
She was flying?
She loved to fly.
A forgotten joy filled her being as she started to flit around the room.
Something lost had been found.
Something beloved, returned.
She was complete!
This is what it meant to be alive!
“TIA! WE HAST A GHOST!”