At the incessant clanging of the school bell, Starlight sprang up, stretched out a hoof, and frantically called after her departing students, “Wait! I need—Oh, what’s the point?” She snorted. They had already fled. What point was there in chasing them? She could just assign them the history lessons when they got back. After all, who didn’t like digging into family trees?
With a sigh, she rested on her seat as she watched a few more students saunter out of the room. All in all, there were about half a dozen left that were cleaning out their desks and neatly packing away their books.
She huffed. The fiery troublemakers from earlier had managed to bolt in the initial rush. There’d be no way she’d get them now. Of course, it would probably be a nice gift to those three unicorns to let them off the hook. In the New Year, she could get a bit more strict.
Suddenly, her chest tightened, and she glanced around at the empty desks. Pangs of pain ran up and down her sternum, and she heaved a couple of times as the edges of her vision grew black. She rested her gaze at the window, which showcased steady snow falling from the sky.
The sunlight had grown dark, and while there were still a few pegasi darting about, they were less than before. Most were just checking on the state of the weather before they dove for the ground to find shelter.
For a brief moment, Starlight felt her brain buzz. The sound of crashing snow reached her ears. Clumps of white smacked against the window, and she blinked. As her vision cleared, she saw that it was her imagination. There was no overwhelming pile of snow headed toward her.
Afterwards, she started to breathe again. Her breaths came in short gasps, and there was still some ringing in her ears. A deep pit formed in her stomach, and another lump grew in her throat. Was she getting sick?
Blinking, Starlight shook her head. It wasn’t that. Now she remembered. Inwardly she punched herself a few times. How could she have forgotten? Was she just too busy? Did she think she’d be happy and ignore it all?
A single sniff escaping her muzzle, she choked out, “Mom…”
Some tears started to trickle down her nose, smearing a few bits of mascara into her fur. She snatched a handkerchief from her desk and dabbed at her eyes.
Pulling the handkerchief back, she sniffed and sighed. Some of the make-up had smudged into her hoof, but thankfully it didn’t smear into her uniform. For a second she stared at it, then she muttered, “I suppose I could just dunk it in snow…”
She sighed. Another cough racked her body as she sniffled and soaked up more of her tears. Slowly they started to dry up, and she whimpered to herself. “How could I almost forget, after twenty-three years?”
Heaving a couple of times, she rummaged through one of the drawers in the desk. Glancing from left to right, she didn’t spot any other students, and she groaned. She pulled out a small bottle of cider, which she had found Trixie stashing for “emergency purposes.”
There were even a couple of glasses in there, which she clinked onto the desk.
Before she could pour, she jumped when she heard a voice ask, “Sorry! I forgot a book in here!” Starlight squeaked and slid the bottle and shot glasses back into the drawer, then she glanced up.
A charcoal-colored mare with a faded cyan and blue mane was standing there, blushing profusely. She slid her glasses up her nose to rest in front of her deep red eyes.
They locked gazes for a second, and the student finally asked as she tilted her head, “Are you okay, Headmare Glimmer?” She arched a brow and bit her lip. “Shouldn’t you, uh, be cleaning the chalkboard, or something?”
Slamming the desk drawer shut, Starlight winced when she heard some clinks of glass. With a nervous chuckle, she started to wave a forehoof back and forth. “Just, uh, having, uh, hot flashes! No alcohol consumption here!” She tittered again when the student stared at her.
“Hot flashes?” the mare asked, turning her head even further to the side. She nickered and started to trot toward a desk near the front. With a swish of her tail, she bent down and snatched a book with her magic.
“Yep! Hot flashes!” Starlight replied with a nod. She avoided the student’s stare. “Good lie, Starlight. Definitely doesn’t sound weird!”
“Hot flashes?” was the deadpan inquiry.
“Uh-huh!” An awkward beat permeated the room, and Starlight winced internally as she blurted out, “Hot flashes!”
Slowly spreading her muzzle into a worried grin, the mare stated, “Uh, I’m not an expert on biology, but aren’t you twenty-seven? Sorry! I heard Counselor Lulamoon mention your birthday a while ago and—” She squeaked when Starlight glared at her.
Slamming a hoof on the desk, and a vein bulging in her neck, Starlight snapped, “Hot flashes!” For a second, she shot her a razor-thin, maniacal sneer. She cackled under her breath.
With a shake, she grunted and steadied herself. She nodded one last time and asked, “So, if you’ve, uh, gotten your book, then I guess I’ll see you in the New Year?”
Ignoring her change of subject, the mare asked again, “Are you sure you’re okay? You seemed kinda, well, sad.” She pouted, and her eyes dilated a bit.
“Yep, completely fine,” Starlight replied in an overly chipper tone. Just to make sure, she swung a hoof in front of her chest, to make it appear she was happy as could be. Inwardly, her stomach was doing somersaults.
“Well, it’s just that you taught us to try and be everycreature’s friend, so I thought that’d mean you too?” the mare brushed back some of her unkempt mane, and she chuckled nervously to herself.
Starlight smiled. A faint warmth filled her chest, shooing away much of the sadness that had taken hold. It was still there, but for the moment the pride of a student actually taking initiative like that overwhelmed her.
Sighing, she pressed a hoof against her temple and admitted, “You’re right. Thanks for asking me.” She gazed at the pony, a slightly morose grin on her muzzle. “I’m fine, thanks for asking…?” She arched a brow.
Blinking once, the pony declared, “Oh, I’m Nebula Flare!” She waved awkwardly. “That’s introductions, right?”
With a chuckle, Starlight nodded her head before she stated, “Well, thanks for asking me, Nebula. I won’t keep you.” She motioned with a flick of her tail for the door.
Getting the hint, Nebula winced a bit and readjusted her glasses before she strode toward the exit. She paused in the doorframe, giving Starlight one final look before she stated, “Happy Hearth’s Warming, Headmare Glimmer!”
Starlight smirked. “Happy Hearth’s Warming.” With that, she watched as Nebula trotted out of the classroom. Hanging her head, Starlight sighed and pushed back on her desk. She grabbed the chalk eraser and hastily cleaned off the blackboard.
Giving the room a onceover, she snatched her keys from inside her blouse’s pocket and made for the exit. As she approached the door, she stopped and stared at the glass. It wasn’t an overly good mirror, but it did allow for some reflection of her visage.
From what she could see, she was clearly frazzled. Some strands of her mane were bouncing around lazily, and she could see a couple of faint streaks of mascara. However, the former wasn’t anything that couldn’t be fixed with a quick brush of a hoof. And the latter was barely noticeable.
About the only thing that was obvious were the two large bags under her eyes. She looked like she had aged thirty years.
Furrowing her brow, she huffed and shook herself. While the bags were still there, she thought she didn’t look quite as haggard. Just tired, more than anything. To be fair, she probably was.
With a final inspection, she jangled her keys, snatched the door with her magic, and trotted out into the hallway. She hastily locked the door with a click and sighed. No more school—for her students, anyway—until the beginning of January. In 1010 ALB, no less! A whole new decade!
The slight excitement soon faded as she moaned to herself. In her gut, the pit had returned. It felt like her throat was swelling, and a thick, tacky ball of phlegm lodged itself in her trachea. Gulping it down, she tried to breathe, and the sensation slowly faded. A soft whimper escaped her throat before she turned around and grunted. It appeared she’d have a new problem to solve.
The hallways themselves were already a mass of students. That much she was prepared for. Her class wasn’t the only one that let out a half-hour before the end of the school day. While it was already packed, there were still small gaps in the sea of bodies that a pony could thread through.
What caught her attention, and her ire, were a pair of yaks that were currently climbing on top of the lockers along the right wall. The metal shivered and rattled as their weight compressed it.
Furrowing her brow, Starlight momentarily ignored the storm in her gut and bared her teeth. Some of the students in the passageway were cheering the two on. Others, probably the ones that actually had their possessions in the lockers, stared with wide-eyed horror.
When the first yak reached the top of his locker, he roared an incoherent cry before he screamed, “Yak! Smash!” With that, he hopped high, nearly impaling his horns on the ceiling, and then shot down with all his bulk.
There was a loud crunch as the first locker bent inwards, and Starlight held back a wince. Almost immediately, she powered her horn and snatched the second yak before he could even land.
Grinding to a halt mere inches from the top of the locker, he looked around as her electric-blue magic formed around his fur. He struggled to free himself, paddling his arms as if he was swimming mid-air.
Starlight didn’t manage to catch the first yak before he bounced again on the locker, which caused it to start to tilt. With a creaking groan, the locker teetered forward, and Starlight sighed as she sent more energy through her horn.
A few screams from the students were silenced when her magic solidified around the locker, stopping it from flattening them. For a few seconds, the entire hallway grew quiet as Starlight righted the locker and held the two perpetrators in her grip.
Slowly, she trotted forward and glared at the yaks. Some decorations from the rafters fluttered down, sending a few bits of glitter onto the floor. There were a couple of coughs, and the tension in the air could have been cut with a knife.
Her eye twitching, Starlight glanced from student to student before she tapped her forehoof on the ground. The clicking sound caused a pony near the back to nicker and flick her ears before galloping off. In her wake, more started to dissipate.
Soon the only students left were the yaks, who both shot Starlight uneasy grins. The slightly older one on the left pressed his bangs back and gazed at her. His pupils were nearly the size of pinpricks.
Quivering, the other yak whimpered as Starlight continued to approach. He didn’t dare to look her in the eye, and she did her best to refrain from snarling too loudly.
Starlight clicked her tongue. “What were you thinking?” she inquired, fixing both of them with a stern glare. A bit of her mane flopped in front of her face, which she quickly brushed back. While she loved her swoop, there were times it irritated her. Her old style from Our Town was admittedly much more practical. Made her look more intimidating, to boot.
Both yaks stammered, pointing forehooves at the other. For a second, they attempted to form plausible sentences before they fell back on, “Other yak’s idea!”
Starlight sighed. Resisting the urge to facehoof, she shook her head and started to trot back and forth. As more classes released their students, she and the yaks were given a wide berth. The only ones that dared approach hastily dug in their lockers before bolting.
“I understand that smashing is a wonderful—” Starlight winced. It was wonderful to nobody but the yaks, if one were to ask her. “A wonderful tradition that Yakyakistan follows. In fact, I heard you have special smashing trees for Hearth’s Warming.” She leveled both of them with another glower.
“But this is not Yakyakistan.” Her statement got a couple of nods from them. It was obvious, but apparently not incredibly obvious to them. “This is Equestria. We don’t smash random objects.” Pursing her lips, she snapped,” Understand?”
“Scary boss pony make her point,” the first yak declared, rapidly bobbing his head up and down. His helmet jostled a bit before falling off and going through Starlight’s magic field.
Clattering on the ground, it rolled to Starlight’s hoof. She swiftly snatched it and inspected her reflection in the iron. Floating it over to the yak, she snugly fit it on his head before she released the duo.
The yaks slammed onto the ground with heavy thuds, staggering to keep themselves upright. Fixating them with a hard stare, she crinkled her brow and stated, “Good. I’d hate to hold you back over Hearth’s Warming. Just imagine all the smashing and food, and family you’d be missing.” She blinked and perked her ears forward. In a sing-song voice, she added, “Oh, and I’d have you write a hundred thousand times about smashing school property, and just to be safe, you’d be a part of Counsellor Trixie’s selflessness course, where you get to listen to her brag about herself and not talk about you.”
Fluttering her eyelashes, she giggled. “So, it’s really good you stopped.” She flicked her gaze momentarily to the lockers. There was a large dent on the top of one, and part of the second was crumpled in at the side.
With a sigh, she quipped, “Oh, and the lockers are being added to your tuition.” She tapped a forehoof on her chin. Softly humming, she tittered, “It’s only a few hundred bits to get new ones. You shouldn’t have any problem paying it off.”
One of the yaks dabbed at his forehead, soaking his fetlock with sweat. A small, uneasy smile grew on his muzzle, and he whined, “Boss teacher pony is too kind!”
“I know,” Starlight declared. She smirked and stated, “This is one of my better days.”
Glancing between each other, the two yaks grunted and hastily took off, their trundling gait vibrating the entire way down the hall. A few streamers from the walls flapped after them, and as the second turned the corner, he nearly slid into the wall. He shook his head and galloped after his friend.
Starlight sighed, lowering her shoulders and glancing to the floor. The initial rush of adrenaline had shoved it from her mind, but now the unease and pit in her stomach had come zooming back.
With little else to do, she started to trot after the fleeing yaks. She could still barely make out the sound of their hooves thundering on the floor. Coughing out a sad chuckle, she weaved her way through the crowd of students.
The hallway itself was filled with life. Almost instantly the student body returned to their chatter like nothing had happened. Griffons, pegasi, changelings, and dragons all soared around in the air.
On the ground, the terrestrial species flocked and mingled, eventually forming their friendship circles. Although Starlight couldn’t make out any one conversation, the gist that she could pick up were the plans for Hearth’s Warming.
To that end, the hallways themselves were decorated with various ornaments, banners, and other things. Glimmering orbs of glass and crystal were suspended from the rafters. Some of the corridor’s lights twinkled and bounced through them in a dazzling display. They almost looked like stars..
Occasional banners of cloth or plastic dangled from every few girders. The plastic ones were cut and sliced into various shapes, some appearing like streams of snowflakes strung together. Still others were shaped into tiny Hearth’s Warming trees, with tiny, iridescent dots for ornaments and duller spots of color for sugarplums and other fruits of the season. Fake snow, mostly made out of cotton balls or other similarly fluffy items, was splattered here and there.
Every so often, there would be a mural painted along a blank section of wall, usually above a classroom. They depicted various parts of the Equestrian Hearth’s Warming tale.
As she walked, Starlight paused to gaze at one of them: Clover the Clever and the other ponies fighting off the Windigos. Clover was in the center, along with Private Pansy and Smart Cookie, all huddled together. A long beam of energy shot out from their midst and impaled one of the Windigos.
The other two were rearing on their hind legs, clearly panicked at their compatriot’s demise. Vicious winds whipped trails of snow around the group, but the sun had started to poke through. As the storm was dying, the Windigos, too, were clinging to dear life. One was in the midst of galloping away in fear as it faded out of existence.
For a few seconds, she stared directly into Clover’s eyes and smirked. She knew, along with a few others, Clover’s secret. Perhaps she’d get next year’s students to paint Clover as a mare. Or she’d let it stay. Better to keep tradition, even if it wasn’t accurate.
She shivered as she turned back into the crowd, nearly bumping into a couple of students. A low blast of cold air shot underneath the bodies and tickled at her hooves. Whatever creature had left in a blizzard was a bit crazy. She paused for a second. It could have been those two yaks. Perhaps she had instilled a bit too much fear into them.
Whatever the case, she sighed and pushed on, her chest slowly tightening as the lump in her throat grew larger. In her ears, the din of the halls began to evaporate and a faint ringing started instead. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, sniffling and wiping at her face before she exclaimed in surprise as she bumped into a student.
Both clattered to the floor, and Starlight blinked. Splattered on the floor, there were different utensils that a griffon was hastily scooping back in. Groggily, Starlight got to her hooves and tilted her head, as the black griffon with orange speckles chittered something under her breath before taking off.
She let out a single cackle. “You’ll never get my precious!”
Starlight huffed. There had been a utensil thief as of late. It appeared she found them. Of course it had to be while she was dazed.
Shrugging, Starlight sighed and shook her head. It wouldn’t be hard to remember a griffon like that. She’d turn up again, sooner or later. She made a mental note to leave some time-freeze spell matrices around the kitchen in the new year. They would snatch the culprit real quick.
Starlight brushed down her blouse and skirt before she gave a single snort. There was a faint creak and slam as the utensil thief took off into the courtyard. Why the griffon thought she needed all those, who knew. Probably because she couldn’t hoard gold or bits instead.
Whatever the case, she strutted forward, nearly slamming into a door that swung open at the last second. She jumped and halted, furrowing her brow as another throng of students emptied into the hallway. They chortled and laughed, occasionally elbowing one another.
Some were dressed in traditional garb for Hearth’s Warming, others just wore warm clothing. In all, they were a menagerie of assorted shades of greens, reds, and golds.
Tapping her hoof against the floor, Starlight blew back some of her mane and waited. In the back of her mind, she felt like she was being watched. It was a soft, tingly sensation. It was a bit like she sensed somepony watching her, but she knew it was impossible. A weak humming in her ears grew a bit louder, and she strained when she thought she heard a mare’s voice in the crowd.
She jerked her head left and right, trying to pinpoint the noise. However, it soon drifted away, leaving her feeling more uneasy than before. Her stomach roiled and gurgled once, which made her a tad queasy.
She bit her lip. With a sniff, she wiped at her nose and coughed into a hoof as the last few students filtered out of the classroom. She snatched the door with her magic and swung it shut, a dull thud reaching her ears.
Grimacing, she trotted forward a couple of steps and spotted one of her teachers splayed on the floor. It was Mistmane. Momentarily freezing, she gulped as she saw the old unicorn twitch a few times. She breathed an inward sigh as Mismane rubbed her head and got to her hooves, wobbling slightly.
With a shake of her head, she glanced around and muttered something, although Starlight couldn’t hear it. “At least she’s okay,” Starlight mused as she pulled back before Mistmane could spot her.
Blushing faintly, Starlight scratched the back of her head before she slipped away from the door. Some of the students parted when they saw her, and she trotted away, wiping a bit of sweat from her brow.
She shot one pony a faint smile as he trudged back. In return, she got a nod and a soft happy Hearth’s Warming from him. His sentiments were echoed by the rest of his friend group, who in one way or another all paid their respect to their headmare.
Very briefly, Starlight felt a bit of pride swell up. These were her students, and they were going to turn out to be the best of their generation. With the teachings of harmony and friendship in their heads, they could accomplish anything.
She sighed. That was, of course, if they finished. Some days it felt like they did everything in their power to not learn. The thought caused her expression to sour, and she lowered her shoulders to push through the rest of the group.
As she walked, the cacophony of random conversations filled her hearing. It was hard to make out a single topic, but the general energy was abuzz with excitement.
Overhead, the decorations on the rafters transitioned from banners depicting Hearth’s Warming scenes to fake snowflakes. Every so often, some crystal bulbs in the shapes of fruits or stars gently rocked from side to side. Buried in nooks between lockers, green shrubs decked out in tinsel and lights glittered like they were covered in a thin sheet of ice. Small toppers in the shape of stars refracted lights from the classrooms. The multicolored reflections played off some of the students, painting their faces in reds, greens, and golds.
Starlight frowned. Why they had those, she never quite knew. It wasn’t like they had any particular reason to have them. If it was a sun, it’d make more sense, but even then, neither Celestia or Luna were involved with the original Hearth’s Warming.
Maybe the star signified their birth, all those millennia ago?
A weak chuckle escaped Starlight’s lips. Perhaps they were born in some barn or something, like in that one holiday tale that Sunset had told her about. Christmas, if she remembered the name correctly. From what Sunset described, it was a nice time, just as friendly, if not more so, than Hearth’s Warming.
As she thought about it, she envisioned Celestia and Luna in a cow trough, like Sunset said the human’s Jesus was. That, or in another animal feeding device. Probably the animals would be just as confused as the newborn Celestia and Luna.
With that, she trundled along, her mane bobbing with her light prance. Perhaps next year she’d visit Sunset in the human world. It’d be a nice change of pace. She groaned. As soon as her mind even drifted toward spending time alone at Hearth’s Warming, the lump in her throat returned.
If she visited Sunset for Christmas, then she’d maybe be distracted long enough to not think about everything else. Or, at least, only ponder it in passing.
She winced and wiped a tear that formed near the rim of her eye. She sniffed. “Why of all years has it hit me this hard?” she murmured internally. It wasn’t like she had an answer, all she had was the growing sinking feeling in her stomach.
Approaching the corner of the hall, Starlight stopped when she spotted out of her periphery a dark grey puff of smoke. It blasted against the classroom door’s window.
Although she was still learning all the intricate details, she could at least recognize that one kind of smoke. It was from only one dragon she knew: Smolder.
As it cleared, she snickered and cantered closer to the window. She peeked in, spotting that the room was far fuller than hers before she ended the lesson. Her eyelids drooped, forming a half-lidded glare. “Of course, Flash can keep them there. But will they stick around for their headmare? No!” She snorted.
From what she could see, Flash was currently reaming out Smolder—or one of her friends. While he was still behind his desk, he was beginning to grow a bit flushed as he barked an order. Behind him, his co-teacher, Somnambula, entered from the neighboring classroom and shook her head. She heaved a sigh and blushed slightly, her Neighgyptian garb fluttering lightly with her movement.
Momentarily all of the students in the classroom stared between each other, then back at Flash. After a second, a single griffon hopped up and shouted something back at him. The griffon beamed triumphantly as Flash furrowed his brow and smacked his face into his desk. He rubbed his forehead before taking off and flitting between the desks.
Observing it all, Somnambula pouted as Flash shouted something else, and she sashayed up behind him. She reached up, rubbed him on the back, and muttered something that made the rest of the class snicker. At that, Flash settled onto the ground and crossed his forehooves, a light blush on his cheeks. Somnambula just made a more playful, petulant look.
She stared at him for a few seconds, and although Starlight couldn’t make out the full expression, she could assume that she was flashing him with the biggest puppy dog eyes she could muster. As time passed, Flash grew more flustered.
Rustling his wings, he nickered and reared back. With a grimace, he removed his helmet and rested it on Smolder’s desk. He rubbed at his temples and snarled wider.
He darted his gaze between Somnambula and the students, finally shouting, “Class! Dismissed!” loud enough for even Starlight to hear.
At that, the mass of creatures sprung to their hooves or talons and rapidly grabbed their things. As a wave, they moved toward the door.
That was Starlight’s cue to leave. Taking a small gulp, she backpedaled and slammed into a yak, who didn’t even notice the sudden impact. She gagged. The yak stunk, to say the least.
Between the stench of unwashed fur and the grease from the said dirty hair, the smell of extra-digested wheat rose into her nostrils. She coughed and held her breath, quickly breaking away and readjusting her mane. She shuddered and heaved once she was far enough away. At least the rancid smell wouldn’t stay much longer in her nose. Hopefully.
She stuck out her tongue, blowing a faint raspberry as she shook herself and tried to remain steady. The aroma of the yak caused her head to buzz a bit, and she wobbled on her hooves as the door to the classroom opened.
In a flash, the students were figuratively and literally flying out into the hallway. Starlight yelped when a griffon, not watching where they were running, smacked into her and made her stagger a couple of feet forward.
Before she had time to react, another student bumped into her and nearly fell to the floor. Both of them gave a quick apology, and Starlight felt her face grow a bit warmer. She was going to be trampled at the rate the bodies were filling the passage.
There was thankfully a small break in the crowd, and she was able to dive through and breathe a sigh. She wiped at her forehead, getting a few beads of sweat off. In an instant, however, she was pushed forward by a couple of yaks that were chatting between each other, and she nearly collided with a group of kirin ahead.
As she bounced off the male kirin in front of her, she chuckled and called out, “Sorry! Uh, lots of traffic!” She glanced behind her and huffed when she saw the yaks were loitering near a pair of lockers. Of course they would bump into her at the last second of their trip.
In response, the kirin turned and flashed Starlight a sultry smile, a loud purr coming from his throat. “Of course,” she huffed to herself as she pushed him tiredly out of the way and powered her horn. She disappeared a second later in a flash of cyan.
Seconds later, she teleported closer to the turn in the hall, exhaling loudly as she shot her gaze around. She nearly landed on a changeling, but he hopped out of her way in the nick of time. His buzzing wings and clicking mandibles indicated his irritation.
Weakly firing him a grin, Starlight laughed softly and scratched the back of her neck before she trotted forward. Ahead of her, a large mural along the wall was painted. It was just before the last stretch toward the exit of the school into the courtyard.
Beams of muted sunlight shone through the corners of the windows around the doors. Sheets of snow, almost like a flowing blanket at points, fell from the grey sky and smacked against the glass. They quickly melted into streaks of water and dribbled down, forming pools at the base of the window sills. A couple of dragons stared in awe at the weather display.
The mural itself was a combination of various creatures’ Hearth’s Warming celebrations and traditions. Most of it was dedicated to the Equestrian holiday, but each country represented by the student body had something, too.
In the center of the mural, the depictions of the founding members of Equestria were drawn. Unsurprisingly, they were huddled in a group and a trio of Windigos swirled above. To round out the motif of the first Hearth’s Warming, Clover’s eyes glowed bright white as light began to pour out from the three ponies.
All in all, that section was most professionally done, and the piercing gaze of the ethereal Windigos bore right into Starlight’s soul. She shuddered as she locked eyes for a second with one of the painted creatures, its dead expression filling her with dread. The mere thought of the founders standing up to a creature like that was still impressive.
Additionally there were more scenes from beyond Equestria. Two pieces were from the hippogriffs, depicting how they celebrated the holiday in and out of water. The first was of Hippogriffia, where Queen Novo and the rest of the royal family were holding a feast. Hippogriffs danced and soared through the air, throwing ribbons and other decorations around in the shadow of Mount Aris.
Conversely, the Seaquestrian one was more thoughtful and reserved. Families were in their individual hovels, and the ornate palace of Queen Novo was decked in a few extra baubles. Nothing grand beyond its original design, but enough to indicate it was still celebrating Hearth’s Warming.
Alongside that, there were scenes from Yakyakistan and Griffonia. Compared to the artistry of the Equestrian and Hippogriffian contributions, the yaks were rather primitive. With simple, flat scenes, they showed their favorite pastime for every holiday: smashing things. What was special for them were the Hearth’s Warming trees. In the background, some of the older cows were stirring pots of food with help from younger calves.
And then the griffon section. It was blank, aside from a large sign that read, “Griffon holiday here.” Underneath that, in smaller text, it added, “Make sure to steal it from the ponies.”
Starlight blinked and chuckled morosely. She could spot Gallus’ snark from anywhere. Near the bottom corner of the griffon section, a crude depiction of a fat griff in a top hat was snatching tiny bags from another griffon. The small money symbols swiftly indicated what was being grabbed.
As the other griffon was reaching out, the fat griffon was taking off. In a small speech bubble next to it, it exclaimed, “Thanks for the donation!”
Starlight sighed and frowned. The image was clearly done by a different griffon, as Gallus really didn’t have the artistic skill even for that, but the sass in the text was all him. It worried her some days. What would he look forward to when he was done with school? More oppression from the Griffonian Empire’s elite?
Before she trotted off, she spotted one more mural. She frowned when she saw the familiar deep purple top hat and suit jacket of Snowfall Frost from that fable that Twilight told her years ago. Snowfall was in the middle of throwing some different elixirs into a bubbling pot, her mouth spread wide in an evil sneer.
In the light of the cauldron, her eyes sparkled with pure hatred, however, Starlight almost felt a bit of pain hidden beneath it. Whoever did up the painting of the unicorn captured the essence of her character perfectly.
Starlight held back a small shudder. While the depiction of Snowfall didn’t look exactly like her, the mural artist had decided to paint Snowfall in the same shade of purple as her own fur. Perhaps she was projecting, but it was like the anger and hurt in Snowfall’s eyes bore into her soul.
Starlight sighed and flattened her ears against her skull. At least Snowfall and she shared one trait at the moment.
Taking one final glance at Snowfall, Starlight shivered at the doppelganger’s appearance before hastily clopping down the hallway. A couple of yaks were in the middle of an official “friend-make,” bashing their heads together and stomping on the ground.
Small jets of dust and dirt shot up, and Starlight sighed as she saw bit signs floating away. Also, she could already hear Twilight’s protests. Starlight would have to expense things at some point, and Twilight would hound her for all of it.
“If only you knew, Twilight, if only you knew,” she huffed to herself and trotted through the hall. In front of her, over the crowd of students, she could make out the large courtyard doors.
For some reason, she felt the urge to leave. The lump in her throat was returning, and her legs wobbled a bit as tears formed in her eyes. The sound of the crowds was starting to get overwhelming, and she whimpered when she was bumped by a student.
Stumbling forward, she reached out a hoof and stopped herself before tiredly leaning against one of the windows. For a second, she gathered her breath and gazed out into the harsh conditions.
The blizzard had begun in force, with snow whipping around and trees bending in the gale. Splatters of white powder hit the window, occasionally obscuring her view and providing a better reflection of herself.
Tears trickled down her face, and she sniffled before taking a few quivering breaths. She winced as a soft ringing slowly built in her ears. A gust of wind blasted against the glass, startling her and making her stumble back into another student.
Before they could react, she yelped and galloped forward, bashing through some of the other creatures there. Without thinking, she barreled through the courtyard doors and out into the freezing cold.