On a cold autumn morning, in a suburban house in the wealthier section of Canterlot, a young man was tossing and turning in his bed. Eventually the sun’s light shone through a crack in the curtains and illuminated his face. He had pale, aquamarine skin that was almost grey, and a messy head of dark blue hair that was punctuated by light teal highlights. His eyes flickered open and he slowly sat up, stretching his right arm above his head; his left was immobilized in a white cast.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, the youth blearily took in his surroundings. A desk with a computer occupied one corner, while a wardrobe and bookshelf took up another. Posters hung on the walls, posters of motocross stars and of motorbikes. A trophy and a pair of yellow-tinted goggles lay on the floor as if they had been thrown there. There was a waste paper bin that was full of shredded purple paper; one of them still had the Crystal Prep Shadowbolt symbol visible on it.
“Good morning, Lightning Strike,” the boy said to himself as he sighed at the sight of his room. It was a far sight better than the hospital bed he had been in about a week ago, but the sight of it just made him feel surly. Not wanting to start his first day at his new school in a bad mood, Lightning Strike slid out of bed and swiped a towel from the end of his bed, then went off to have a shower.
Undressing quickly, Lightning wrapped the hospital-supplied plastic wrap around the cast on his left arm and stepped into the shower. The hot water crashed onto his head and made his hair stick to his scalp like a cap, but he knew it would spike back up once the water was removed.
After drying himself off, Lightning went back into his room and opened the wardrobe. His teeth gritted together as he saw the stack of Crystal Prep uniforms inside. Choosing to ignore them until he could deal with them at a later date, he instead picked out a plain pair of dark sweatpants and a green t-shirt with long sleeves that he rolled up for his left arm. He then topped off the outfit with one of his favorite articles of clothing, a dark indigo sleeveless jacket with a hood that had his symbol on its back: a stylized wing and a lightning bolt side by side. Putting it on made Lightning Strike feel a bit more confident, and as he laced up his shoes and went downstairs for breakfast, he was beginning to smile a little.
As usual, nobody was downstairs to greet him. This was something Lightning was used to, as his father was more often than not away on business trips around the world, and his mother had to get out of the house early to her job as a journalist. Lightning’s mother prided herself on being the first in office on the weekdays and the first to get the daily scoop, and usually only came home in time to make dinner and sleep.
As Lightning put two pieces of bread into the toaster, he took out his phone and went over the route he was going to take to school. He lived moderately far from the campus and wanted to get a head start on reaching it so that he wouldn’t be tagged as a troublemaker. Not like the school had given him much of a choice in the matter, nor was he entirely innocent. The memory brought back a scowl and Lightning Strike pushed it away in his mind, determined not to let it spoil his breakfast and morning walk.
Heading out of his house and locking the door, Lightning Strike hefted his backpack and began the trek to school. He would have preferred to take an alternative means of transport, but he couldn’t operate any kind of vehicle with a broken arm, and the buses didn’t often come to his district. Not that he had needed them before his arm had been fractured, but now school was so much further away.
Still, it was a good day to be out walking. The sun was shining, not too brightly, and there was a soft breeze to speed him along. The twenty minutes that it took to get to school seemed to fly by and before Lightning knew it, he was looking down the courtyard of a large building that had two wings and a dome on top. There was some kind of monument in the front that looked like it might have been a statue, but now all that was left was the pedestal.
“So this is Canterlot High…” Lightning said to himself. He had seen it briefly during the Friendship Games, but hadn’t much paid attention to the layout. It was definitely not as opulent as Crystal Prep, its rival school, but Lightning didn’t mind this. In fact, it was probably for the best that the place didn’t remind him of Crystal Prep.
There was a small trickle of students arriving at campus and hanging out outside the school while they waited for classes to start. Trying to look as unobtrusive as possible, Lightning Strike went over to an unoccupied section of wall and leaned back against it. It wasn’t that he was tired; he was used to getting up early for school. He watched the wind blow past, carrying a passel of orange and red leaves, and sighed. Lightning thought back to the reason he was here and frowned.
Letting his mind wander, he almost didn’t notice someone approaching him. It was, for want of a better description, an almost offensively pink girl with hair like cotton candy, and light blue eyes that were now watching him.
Lightning coughed and leaned back a bit. “Uh, can I help you?” he asked cautiously.
The pink girl smiled at him and said, “Hi! I don’t think I’ve seen you around CHS before. Are you a new student?”
“I… guess you could say that, yes,” Lightning replied slowly. He wasn’t sure how much he should give away to this girl, especially if she was into the rivalry between Canterlot High and Crystal Prep. “It’s my first day here.”
“Ooh, really?” The pink girl bounced on her heels. “Then let me be the first to welcome you! I’m Pinkie Pie, head of the party planning committee!” She spun on the spot and looked expectantly at Lightning.
“I’m Lightning Strike,” Lightning told Pinkie.
“Nice to meet you, Lightning Strike!” Pinkie reached out and took his right hand to shake. Her gaze lingered on his cast-encased arm. “So how’d that happen?” She pointed at the cast.
“Uh…” Lightning’s mind raced to find an answer that would be satisfactory but not give away too much about himself. “Traffic accident. Yeah.”
“Oh,” Pinkie looked surprised. “Well, I’m happy you didn’t break anything else. Can I sign your cast?” She reached into her mass of fluffy hair and pulled out a marker. Without stopping to hear Lightning’s answer, she bent down and signed her name, ‘Pinkie Pie’ on the cast and topped it off with a little doodle of three balloons. An image that only now did Lightning notice was imprinted on her skirt in shades of blue and yellow.
Pinkie was just finishing the flourish on the last ‘E’ in her name when another student joined her. This one was a boy with cyan skin and short, jet black hair. He wore a hoodie and blue jeans.
“What are you doing, Pinkie?” he asked, putting his hand on her shoulder.
“Just saying hi to the CHS’s newest student,” Pinkie chirped. “Oh, lemme introduce you two! This is Swift Justice, one of my best friends! Swift, this is Lightning Strike. Lightning, Swift.”
“Nice to meet you,” Swift said with a smile. “First day, huh? Must be tough transferring here mid-semester.”
“Yeah, well,” Lightning shrugged. “It couldn’t be avoided.” He gestured vaguely at the two others. “So, best friend. You’ve known each other for a long time then?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Swift smiled as Pinkie hugged his arm. He blushed and patted Pinkie back. “She’s the greatest.”
Lightning nodded. He had to agree, they didn’t seem like they would ostracize him for his previous school allegiances, but he didn’t want to risk it unless he absolutely had to.
“Well, I am looking forward to, uh, attending,” Lightning said in what he hoped was a casual tone of voice. “I’ll need to go to the principal’s office to get my timetable. Could you help a guy out and tell me where that is?”
Swift nodded. “Sure. Principal Celestia’s office is down the main hallway, second door on the left. Do you want me to take you there?”
“No, I reckon I can find my way there,” Lightning replied.
Swift didn’t seem bothered by being turned down. “Alright. If you need directions to anywhere else, just ask any of us. CHS Wondercolts are always eager to help.”
“Good to know…” Lightning watched Swift and Pinkie retreat back to a larger group of people who were presumably their friends.
With nothing else to do but wait for the bell to ring, Lightning’s gaze roved around the groups of students who were also waiting for class. Back at Crystal Prep, there had been cliques that each student had belonged to that they rarely ever left. He had been in one of them, until… well. But here, it seemed like everyone was intermingled with everyone, with no real pattern to the groups that might signal what kind of gang they were a part of.
Interesting. Lightning noted to himself. He shifted himself so that his left arm had a bit more support and took out his phone to see if there were any messages from anyone he knew. There were none. Putting away his phone, Lightning settled into a brooding quiet.
A short while later, the bell rang to herald the beginning of class. Two adults who Lightning assumed were teachers or custodians opened the front doors to the building and the students began to pour inside.
With his cast, Lightning Strike attracted some curious looks, but he tried not to pay attention to them and followed Swift Justice’s directions to the principal’s office. He found it easily enough; even without prior instructions on how to get there, someone had placed helpful signs on the walls to guide people to their destinations, including the principal’s office.
Lightning took a moment to breathe in and out, then he raised his fist and knocked three times on the door.
“Come in,” a woman’s voice beckoned.
Lightning reached out and turned the doorknob, pushing the door in. The interior of the office was brightly lit, and there was a pale-skinned, smartly dressed woman with spectral hair sitting behind the desk. She wore an insignia of a bright sun and an equally warm smile on her face.
“Good morning,” she said. “My name is Principal Celestia. You must be our newest student, Mr. Lightning Strike, is that correct?”
“Yes, ma’am. That’s me.”
The principal’s smile grew wider. “You can just call me Principal Celestia. Everyone here does.”
“Oh. Okay then,” Lightning said. “I’m here for my schedule, Principal Celestia.”
“Certainly,” Principal Celestia pulled open a drawer on her desk and shuffled through its contents. After a few moments, she retrieved a single sheet of paper and held it out. “Here you are.”
Lightning Strike stepped forward and took it. It seemed like a normal timetable, although he wasn’t sure where each classroom was.
“Oh, how careless of me,” Principal Celestia added, holding out another sheet of paper. “Do you need me to walk you to your next class? Have you had a chance to explore the campus yet?”
Lightning flashed Principal Celestia a small smile. “It’s okay. I’ll make do on my own.”
“Are you sure? I understand that changing schools can be difficult, so if there’s anything I can do…”
Lightning Strike shook his head, holding back a grimace at the mention that he had changed schools. “Really, it’s fine. I’ll find my own way.”
Principal Celestia looked hesitant, but eventually nodded in agreement. “Alright. Just remember, you’re one of us now, a Canterlot High Wondercolt. We look after our own here.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
And with those gruff parting words, Lightning turned and left the office, leaving behind a somewhat deflated Principal Celestia in his wake.