//------------------------------// // Chapter 47 // Story: Borrowed Time // by Gambit Prawn //------------------------------// I blinked awake. A vague weight of pressing importance settled onto my mind as I was quickly reminded that I was not in my own bed. It was just before dawn—I could apparently sense that now—add that to the collection, right next to the donut card.  Beakington was preening in the corner. I’d have asked him to teach me if it weren’t completely awkward to do so. Asking anyone was awkward; I’d hoped that Star would start that conversation for me.   For the rest, Gilded Acres was yawning to my left, and Stardust was combing her mane. Notably absent from the wakened was our chaperone. He lay in a bigger sleeping bag by the front of the tent—as if he would be able to do something if a bear came around. Gossip had informed me that he was a young widower who wanted to find the perfect stepmother for his son. The foal had been placed with us despite being younger than most of the group (except me). Sorta like Rough Rider, but for dating. Actually… was it Brass Ring that had that issue?  “Gah, it’s too early to keep them straight,” I murmured. I had my activity schedule set, but the morning wasn’t anything that hard. First, I had the activity Jill had picked for me. After lunch was Variety Sports. I was thankful that I didn’t have to play the part of Lua, but I still had that ridiculous competition with Blue Horizon going.  What was I supposed to be doing again for my challenge? There were a couple of things she “ordered” me to do…I think I scratched my head. What was after that? Oh, yes, it was something with animals. It’s probably with Fluttershy; that would be predictable.  I felt the psychic nagging of obligation again. What’s with this? It’s kinda like when you forget what you were going to say, in spite of still wanting to say it.. It was quiet. I then noticed some of the alicorn starting up again as more ponies woke. I felt a sort of helplessness, as no reasonable (or unreasonable) action would remedy the fact that I was “special” wherever I went. The stallion groaned as he stretched himself awake. “All right, everypony, it’s time for breakfast, so let’s make our way in an orderl—” “Yay!” A few foals cheered, dashing past our appointed guardian, as he desperately tried to catch wrangle them.  Seeing my chance, I gave a less convincing cheer and ran for it. He made more of a calculated attempt to grab me, but it was trivial to avoid with a well-timed jump. So, that’s what my trained reflexes are good for now? I never would’ve thought. “Good morning, River” a tiny voice greeted from the shadow of the tent. I slowly turned my neck and then body to face the shyest colt I knew. “Hey, Pinion,” I said weakly to the young unicorn. “You need something?” “Oh, well, I was wondering—you see, if—umm… if you’re not busy—and it’s not too inconvenient! And you’re okay with it—what I wanted to ask is if—if you might be okay with sitting next to—next to m—me at lunch!?” I looked into his eyes, and he shivered in response. “I’m sorry. I have some obligations to some other ponies at lunchtime. And probably tomorrow, too,” I stately plainly, as if handing out a sentencing. “Oh…” “What are you two doing?” Alibi said softly, sneaking in behind the unaware Little Pinion.  The unicorn sprung up double his height and dashed off, wailing, “Nothing don’t worry about it it’s nothing. Maybe later like you said—bye!” I made eye contact with the changeling. Well, that’s a marginal upgrade in ponies I’d want to interact with. “What’s with him?” “Oh, he’s lovestruck,” I said, rather carelessly. “What does that mean?” he asked. I raised my brow at him, but he genuinely didn’t seem to know. “It’s when you really like someone else. You want to get them to notice you. You act silly, or try to act cool. You want them to like you back.” He put a hoof to his chin. “Oh yeah, I might have heard about that before. So what you’re saying is that when this happens, someone else is influencing a pony’s behavior? Manipulating them even?” I shot him another weird look. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He smirked. “Oh, nothing,” he said, trotting off. Wha—You know what? I think I can enjoy the luxury of not caring. Once our guardian had located all of the runaways (and scolded us for having the gall to venture five feet without adult supervision), he woke the rest of his charges, and we made our way to the mess hall. Our tent was among the first group to eat, while the others had free time. It then dawned on me that I would have to get creative if I wanted to avoid meeting my fans for the next forty minutes. I gulped down a spoonful of porridge and let the mediocre taste seep deep into my tastebuds. Well, whatever. That’s future me’s problem. “~Hey, River Glade~” I turned to my left and found myself face-to-face with multiple admirers. Or now-me… I tried hard—I really did—to feign interest, but every fake smile just sapped energy that I needed for other things. Still, I eventually waded my way through some of the monotony. “So, do you have bodyguards? What’s it like being a VIP?” asked a beautiful filly wearing a huge pair of glasses. I sighed. “Sometimes it’s like being a prisoner. A pampered one for sure, but everypony’s got expectations—” “I’m a Gemini! What’s your sign?” asked a different filly. “I don—”  I paused. Actually, I really don’t know. How would I even begin to convert my birthday to a different dimension’s calendar? “Oh, River!” A male voice hailed. I was expecting any other colt but him, but when I turned my head, I instead saw Alibi Align with his foreleg locked with a green pegasus filly I had never seen before. He’s annoying enough. I should have his voice down by now. Then again, with him, it wasn’t like it would do me much good if I really needed to identify him. “What’s up,” I uttered, letting loose all of the disdain I had been holding back from my interaction with the gaggle of fillies. “What—what’s up? I’ll tell you: I got to talking to Cloudy Vine, and—” “It’s ‘Cloudy Pine’” the filly said, showing far more patience than was deserved. Alibi chuckled and dragged her foreleg slightly closer. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?” “No—” “But I digress. River, it turns out that Cloudy Pine and me get along real good, you know.” “That’s nice,” I said, flatly.  He scratched his neck. “That’s all? You’re not going to ask what I see in her or—” The fillies to my side giggled, as if that was a legitimate contribution to the conversation. He started to get restless. “Is she from Canterlot Second or something?” I asked, patiently inviting him to elaborate on his stupid charade.  The peripheral crowd seemed to tighten around us. Even though the dining hall was designed for gatherings of extended farm pony families, the sheer number of foals overwhelmed it. Preparing all the food must be quite an ordeal. Ah… I’m spacing out again. “Uhh… ummm…. What do you mean, this is Cloudy Pine, you know her from—” Alibi said. “Hello!” The filly said. “My name is Cloudy Pine. It’s a pleasure to meet you, princess-in-training.” “Umm… yeah,” I stammered.  I’m sure you’re a nice pony. Please don’t ask me to remember you, though. This many ponies at the camp would be impossible. How… how does Celestia do it? I nodded to myself absentmindedly. That’d be a good one to ask. “Wait wait wait wait wait wait!” the changeling child clamored. “You said you were good friends with River Glade.” Cloudy Pine tossed her head playfully. “No, I said I’m best friends with River Shade,” she corrected.  “Who the pony is River Shade?” Alibi shouted. “I am!” declared the filly who just inquired about my zodiac sign. She then hoof-bumped her best friend; then they cantered off together.  Foiled, the changeling looked around, as if scanning for an escape route. “Well, I guess I’m single now...” he said with a grin. “He’s handsome...” “Yeah, but super weird,” came the deliberating whispers. He opened his mouth to speak, but said nothing. “Break-ups are hard!” he declared before galloping away. “Okay, everypony! Time to get to your first activity today!” a camp counselor announced. This even got my throng of admirers to break up. Well that was “productive.” Not a lick of progress. I felt relief—then guilt. I should have been working on Rough Rider or one of those other exchange students. Why didn’t I break away—make some excuse? I—I’m just trying to avoid it. I slammed a hoof on the wood floor. The dramatic impact was less than I had hoped for, leaving me looking ridiculous. As it turned out, I didn’t need to go anywhere for our first activity. Near the cafeteria was a small outdoor dining area that fit our needs perfectly. Checkerboards covered the array of low tables, making me feel like I had been invited to the least ambitious picnic ever.  About a third of the ponies were my classmates. The activity hadn’t filled up, despite my “distinguished” participation. I didn’t know if that was because most of the class had locked in their choices, the activity itself deterred most of the Canterlot First class from participating, or maybe I was just not as popular as I thought I was. God I hope it’s the last one. Spectacle stepped to my side and straightened his glasses. Beakington took the other side and acknowledged me with a small smile. This did a lot for my mood, even if it was kind of awkward. I truthfully didn’t know how to follow-up on the “great friend moments” I had shared with each of them.   I heard a soft rattle. Dropping a large green bag on the biggest table was Iron Jill. She looked our way, and a chill seemed to pass through the activity participants. Without a word of input, the foals not from Canterlot First sorted themselves by retreating a few steps. I smiled at the minotaur, feeling a strange sort of kinship. She halfheartedly nodded at me before taking a confident step toward us. The other foot, however, had decided to be less aggressive as it was set down. “I, IRON—uhh….” It’s okay, Jill. Ponies will think weird things about you; ponies can be silly like that. Be yourself: be the friend I’ve come to know, and you’ll be fine. “I mean… I’m Iron Jill. Welcome to chess.” “...she’s our instructor?” came a whisper from the side. I was one discourteous comment away from rushing to her defense. Fortunately, a youngish stallion with a Luna-colored coat trotted up from behind Jill and clapped his forehooves. “Thank you, Jill,” he said. He turned to us. “Iron Jill here will be my assistant for this class. She’s a top junior player, despite her youth.” I was momentarily confused, but then I remembered that she was younger than every other foal in our class. This dynamic perplexed me: She would be an adult much quicker than rest of us would. Is she supposed to get a job or go to college with much less school experience? Come to think of it: is that why the stereotype is that minotaurs are dumb?  The instructor continued on. “Chess was invented in the Far East. While the rules and mechanics have shifted through the ages, three core principles have stood the test of time.” He scanned his charges, as if daring us to flinch from the threat of a lecture. I could tell there was some unease in the air… “No, I’m just messing with you all. I do love to talk about historical stuff, but I wouldn’t want to take anything away from actually playing!” He announced with a bright smile, dooming his attempted gag with premature timing. Still, a few foals did sigh in relief. “Aren’t I a fun teacher?” he asked, gesturing to his ear with a forehoof. And self-aware too. He was met with dead silence. His ears started to droop, like pony ears tended to do, but he quickly propped them back up. “Quick poll: raise your hand if you generally know how to play the game.” A small majority of hooves raised in response. He nodded patiently. “That’s just enough to call for at least a little crash course. For you all starting out, it may be uphill at first, but I’m sure most everyone here will be nice to the learners. Remember: sportsmanship benefits us all.”  I suppose that even here, war—be it real or game—has no shortage of rules. Seriously... were the mythical Arbiter race that instituted the Accords a bunch of ponies?  “We’ll do a ladder later on that will help with the pairings, but no matter what, don’t get discouraged. He brought his front hooves together, as if ready to clap, and I suppressed a groan. Instead he gestured oddly with them. “As for the how-to-play portion, don’t completely zone out if you think you know all the rules, though. I’ll throw in some more obscure tidbits for you. And if I’m going too fast for you, don’t worry. We’ll all be patient and supportive to help you learn.” The newbies among us nodded warily.  With that, we gathered around the demonstration board. It was about the height of an adult mare and rendered the eight-by-eight board with a birds-eye-view from the white player’s perspective. As our instructor explained the rules of the game, he transferred felt representations of the pieces between the pockets each square on the board had. The crash course wasn’t anything too surprising. As expected, the rules were the same barring some name changes and the shape of the pieces. It would take some time to get used to the pawns—rather than the knights—being pony-shaped. The teacher had taken his time explaining how the knights move. I got the sense he was exaggerating a bit about the “tricky mover.” He explained the knight “hop” in three different ways: two squares then one, one square lateral and one square diagonal away, and the eight-square “flower pattern.” I hadn’t encountered the last one before, and I also learned that knights change the color of square they’re on every move. “Now, an important thing about knights is that they cannot do in three moves what they can in two and vice-versa. This becomes important in certain positions when you may need to waste a move in order to win.” Jill read the room accurately and jumped in: “This is actually a very technical point, so don’t worry too much about it. Just count the pattern light dark light dark light when trying to figure out how to get your knight somewhere.” She’s much better at this than he is. I thought. To my side, Alibi was carefully studying the demonstration board, nodding at periodic intervals. I suspected he was probably trying to look cool.         It’s just the rules. Nopony will anoint you king for learning the rules quickly. Or he thinks he’s a hotshot for knowing all this. Speaking of rules, the instructor started explaining the history of the pawn’s initial two-square push. In his words, they started out the game excited and could move up to two squares, but on only their first move. “But, in order to avoid changing the game too much, they made it so if a pawn tries to run by one of your pawns, you can capture… like this!” Using black’s adjacent pawn, he “captured” an empty square behind the pawn that had just moved. Then he removed the white pawn. He paused for dramatic effect. Somehow it worked. “So—this move is referred to using the Prench phrase, ‘en passant.’” It’s a move that breaks the rules—legally, in a way. The most important points are that the enemy pawn has to move two spaces next to one of your pawns to do this. Second: you can only do it immediately after your opponent makes the move. No exceptions!” I looked around the semi-circle of foals. Most notably, Clever Theorem seemed enamored with his explanation. At first, I thought she was the exception, but even the foals who were clearly only here to curry favor with me were drawn in. They don’t think he’s too eccentric? Come to think of it, all of my teachers are eccentric. Is that just what works for ponies? Has Ms. Fizzle been a “great” teacher this whole time?! “In the heat of battle it can be easy to forget the details, so if you need clarification on en passant in particular, call one of us over.” “You sure he’s not making this last one up?” I whispered to my side, forgetting that it wasn’t Beakington or Spectacle seated there. Alibi gave a forced chuckle. “You didn’t know something so trivial? Well, that’s to be expected. Matters are rarely as they seem in life, in games, in anything! Knowing such secrets is second nature for me.” He got enough weird looks that I felt reassured that I wasn’t crazy. “Noted: that means your spirit told you and you had no idea,” I posited on a whim. “Wha—that’s not—I meant—I mean, well, I didn’t not know it before I was told—and beyond that knowledge—its source— how can you ascertain?” I locked my gaze with his and gave him a predator’s grin—as much as this cute face could manage anyway. Having won that interaction, I was ready to just have some fun as the teacher started pairing us together. After that trouncing, I doubted Alibi would have the courage to bother me for the rest of the day.  Of course, that was ruined when we were paired together. “It seems the hour for me to shine is upon us!” he declared, earning snickers all-around.  Make up your mind: do you want to be popular with the non-me fillies, or not? During the pairing process, Jill had set-up the pieces on each of sixteen boards—four on each table. I could tell she liked the symmetry, as there were only thirty of us in the class. I felt a pull of dread as I rounded the tables to take black on board seven. Alibi hopped to his spot, donning a broad smirk. “Dealing with one master tactician would already be a tall task, but two?” I just shook my head. I had the feeling that he would trounce me, because that would be the most awkward outcome all around. Across from me, he adjusted his pieces two at a time, moving towards the center of his army. I was entranced by the apparent confidence and skill with which he did so that I lost track of time. He looks confident... “Checkmate!” I heard to my left.  I flinched in surprise, and my eyes darted over in morbid curiosity. Windy Skies had crushed Mortar Strike in one minute flat. The colt, who fancied himself a tough guy, was blushing up a storm. Windy, for her part, was trying her best not to laugh, or smile too much. Jill walked over to us. “Ah, the four move checkmate—or Scholar’s mate—that’s the oldest trick in the book. Everypony, come over here and see.” The class complied. “I won’t explain all the moves, but just recognize the queen and bishop checkmate on f7 for future reference.” “Ah, I see,” Alibi said, trying his best to sound detached and esoteric. He waited a second and then proceeded to push the third pawn from my left forward one square. “Flexibility is the name of the game. I maintain my options to expand on two potential fronts.” I looked around. No one else was commentating their moves. I scanned the static battlefield of Mortar’s revenge game against Windy. Each player had moved the pawn in front of their king two spaces. I suppose that looks good. If Alibi does the same thing that’s sorta the same thing, right? Rather than second-guessing myself, I proceeded to copy. The changeling snorted. "You may try to take the center, but on the king’s wing, the genesis of my strategy can now take form.” Is it bad that I already expect this from him at this point? He pushed the pawn in front of his knight past the less ambitious pawn he had moved on move one. He may be overconfident, but that guardian spirit of his may know a lot of things. I looked at his impressive string of pawns pointing to my left flank. How do I deal with this? I took another look. He even gave his king an escape route. That’s kind of smart. I suppose I can give a check. That’s always good, right? “Check,” I said, with wavering confidence as I made my move with my queen/general. Alibi put a hoof to his chin. After a few seconds and a grimace, his face slid downward, obscuring his snout. The eyes that remained trained on me spoke of internal betrayal. “What’s wrong?” I asked, completely innocent. “I get the check is annoying, but it’s like the teacher said: you can get out of check by moving your king, taking my queen, or—you know, blocking with something… oh…” I had just won the game. Jill walked by to confirm what I had just figured out and chuckled. “Oh, okay, everypony come over here and take a look.” Alibi went pale as the rest of the class quickly converged on our board. “This is one that’s known as the Fool’s Mate.” “Fool’s Mate…?” Alibi muttered as his self-esteem tumbled another notch. “Oh, yeah,” said Jill. “It’s called that because you have to be a total moron to walk into that one.” The changeling closed his eyes, perhaps to conceal tears.  I couldn’t decide whether to feel sorry for him or just to appreciate that he might be inclined to talk to me a little less because of it. She waved away the other students. “Now quit goofing around and play an actual game,” Jill chided, motioning at us. We did just that. From what I could tell the changeling and I were of equal merit when he wasn’t trying to cheat by consulting with a disembodied spirit. Unfortunately, with his confidence shattered, he missed a threat to his bishop, and it was all downhill from there.  Once I consummated my win, I could tell he was grateful to move on to his next opponent.  For my next match, I took on Skywatcher. The position of the sun above us made his silver coat give off a blinding glare. “Good luck,” I said, extending a hoof, while shielding my eyes with another. “Yeah…” he said, pretending to study the pieces instead. Why am I only getting colts that recently tried to hit on me? Will it be Little Pinion next? Fortunately, the unicorn did not allow our (lack of a) relationship to impede his play. I was in the game the whole time, but he managed to stay one step ahead and take the victory. We were to record our moves for this game as we were taught; he seemed to have trouble with that part of it, so perhaps I was a little distracted by trying to help him. Our game was the last to finish, and from there, all of us then gathered around the demonstration board as the stallion and Jill gave practice pointers. I could tell Jill was getting flustered by the more egregious beginner mistakes. She nearly had a mental breakdown when one side’s queen decided to have a picnic with two threatening unmoved enemy pawns for nearly a dozen moves, both players blissfully unaware that the game could be decided instantly and decisively. I was rather interested in the lesson. On Rhod, I was praised for showing an interest in chess at first—probably because it imitated battle and fostered strategic thinking. However, dozens of hours later, I found the opposite reaction from my parents, and it was then lumped into the same “idle diversions” category as books. I refocused and examined the starting position depicted on the demonstration board. Jill moved up the pawn in front of the knight on the left one square. “Ah, pawn b3. This one’s called the Iguana,” Jill explained. “It’s an acceptable way to play, if unorthodox.” “I’d have thought it would be called Beakington’s Opening,” Spectacle remarked. The griffin known as “B3” gave his friend a weird look; then the realization dawned on him. “Oh, haha. Very funny that one,” he said sarcastically. I was somewhat disappointed when the lesson ended, but “Variety Sports” sounded promising, too. The opportunity to exercise my mind and then my body. What more could I ask for?  Still, I needed a break, so I parked myself under a tree to be alone for a while—even if I still had onlookers. Then, approaching me like a heat-seeking missile was Alibi—with Raspberry Citrus touching him fur-to-fur. “Oh, hey, River, I didn’t expect to see you here!” Liar… “It turns out that me and Raspberry Citrus get along real well,” he said, hugging the Earth Pony tighter. She blushed, but I could tell it was from discomfort. What with the grimace and all. Maybe if I don’t acknowledge it, he’ll stop this silly act… Unfortunately, I had noticed that ponies were different from humans in this respect. “So, what do you two have in common?” I asked, overflowing with polite disinterest.  “Oh… uh… you know, that thing…” he stammered. “Knitting I guess,” Raspberry said, trying to help, but making everything worse. “Yes! Knitting, we knit all the time together!” During the fifty seconds we were apart? Come to think of it, I had no idea where he had found the time to acquire another fake girlfriend. The earth pony filly shuffled her hooves. “I—I really need to get to my next activity. The lake is a little walk away…” Without waiting for permission, she cantered off, clearly having reached her limit. I stood up, figuring I may as well get a feel for the ensemble of my next activity. Alibi followed me, matching my walking speed but leaving a buffer. I sighed. “Let me guess: you have all the same activities as me…” He cocked his head. “No, actually. Princess Celestia just had to give me whatever was left over. Well, I’m off to Social Dancing now!” With that, he danced away. What does Celestia even want me to do with him? I’ll trust that she has him contained, but being his only “friend” is a tall order. I breathed in. Okay, this should be fun. But I need to stay focused. I scanned the field of participants. Hail Stone, Rough Rider, Brass Ring—the Terrible Trio—and, of course, Blue Horizon. I would have to find some way to make progress. I couldn’t just play all afternoon. “Hello, River,” came a quiet voice behind me. I turned and smiled at Cake Slice. “Good morning,” I said. “I hope you like this activity. My classma—I mean, I picked this activity because I thought I’d enjoy it, but I don’t know if it’s up your alley.” The little unicorn giggled and stretched her legs. “I’m not the athletic type like you, so I think you did a good job.” “Hmm?” I voiced. “There are all sorts of skill levels here. Blue Horizon is really talented, and I’m nothing, but it’s not about winning.” My bizarre “guilt” of not picking my own activities intensified. Considering how to continue the conversation, I scanned the open field that had been reserved for us. I could easily imagine crops occupying the space, but wasn’t this supposed to be an apple orchard? “You’re not nothing,” I said on a whim. She looked at me with those wide blue eyes.  I broke eye contact. “I don’t know you that well, but you’re fine. You may be shyer than most, but the more talkative exchange students have problems too. New Moon likes you. Pink Diamond likes you too.” She smiled sweetly. I looked up and away. It was a beautiful day, adorned with that expansive blue sky. The weather was perfect, but then again, that was probably no coincidence. “I wonder what kind of instructors we’ll—” “Hey, River!” an acrid voice cut in. “Oh, Blue Horizon,” I responded, weakly, trying not to sound disappointed.  Cake Slice almost seemed to shrink in response to the pugnacious blue unicorn filly. I was filled with dread. “Hello…” I said after a mini staring contest. Horizon stamped a forehoof. “Don’t greet me. I want a status update. Homework!” I felt a glancing blow from her demand and pressed my brain to decipher it. “Uh… oh, it’s gotten a bit harder lately, but I’m trying to do more in less time.” “Your GPA is up?” she asked slyly. “I… It was for a while, but now my grades are scattershot.” Her steely gaze pierced me. “But you don’t know what the trend is toward?” I shook my head dejectedly.   Blue made a soft noise of annoyance. I looked to Cake Slice for backup, but her determination seemed to be wavering. To my chagrin, lacking any other distractions, a small crowd was gathering around us. “What about your games with Pipsqueak? Have you won a few?” “What about me?” a small white colt asked, completely befuddled. “You mean Squirt…” I said, uneasy. “Same thing,” Horizon said. “I haven’t had time to play with him recently...” “And your Prench?” I sighed. “Same thing with the homework, really…” That and the fact that talking to Mix-up in the “language of love” is more awkward than anticipated. “Look, River, I’m not mad—” You sure would’ve fooled me. “—just disappointed. You challenged me, and now I’m having to call your resolve into question.” “I’m sorry,” I said automatically. Blue Horizon’s eyes seemed to be filled with indignation. She did a half-stomp of her right forehoof. “I’ve been keeping up with my challenges for my part…” she added for good measure. I heard a clapping, and everypony’s attention was directed to the cream-colored mare with a clipboard that had finally decided to make an appearance.  “We’ll talk later,” my rival declared. “And Lua isn’t even here, so I won’t get to enjoy beating her…” She trotted off—before coming to the awkward realization that she was going the wrong way and circling back.  “Welcome to Variety Sports! If you wanted to just have fun, you picked the right activity.” Blue Horizon scoffed. “I say that, but our statistician and assistant coaches will be meticulous in tracking your performances!” Cake Slice let out a quiet “eep.” I glanced over to the trio of Hail Stone, Brass Ring and Rough Rider. How do I use this time to get through to them? As it is, I don’t have any ideas…. “One more thing!” Blue Horizon hailed. I flinched. “I can’t understand what you—” “Leave River alone!” Cake Slice shouted, at twice her normal volume. I could tell she was immediately regretting it when every pair of eyes was trained on her. “I mean, she’s trying her best to advise all of us.” “But it was her idea—the competition thing.” Cake Slice found her courage again and re-established eye contact. “She wants to help. Maybe she bit off more than she could chew, but she’s staying with it. And that should be what counts!”   “Well, good thoughts won’t help me make friends,” Horizon said weakly, with the whole “droopy pony ears” thing. Our chaperone cleared her throat. “I’m glad you’re both passionate, but please save the quarrel for the break period. She stretched her back legs and then balanced and kicked them back. “Today’s event: basketball!” I vaguely recalled something about an old-time sport with two tall towers, but the pony version was a bit more literal. It was effectively soccer most of the time, albeit with a smaller, flexible ball that could be handled by mouth. But once picked up, the ball had to be thrown to a teammate or towards the basket. In truth, it was a tough sport for beginners like me and Cake. From what I could gather, catching airborne passes was what most struggled with. While I had a knack for snagging balls out of the air, my tiny frame was tough to aim for. Nonetheless, I still found myself enjoying it, even if the score quickly got out of hoof. I was somewhat disappointed when the final whistle dismissed us, but my lungs and muscles were rather grateful.  I breathed in and stretched in satisfaction. The sun had gone behind a cloud, and the whole camp seemed to go quiet for a pristine moment. I took a moment to sit atop a small hill and glance across this quadrant of the camp. From my perch, I could see three or four other activity groups.  Cake Slice came trotting up to me. While she approached me with confidence, it was as if the two of us started questioning hanging out together at the same time. After all, we weren’t amazing friends or anything.  “Want to get lunch?” I asked her, anyway. “Sure!” she replied, taking a little hop. I immediately felt guilty since discouraging my fans from accosting me was a substantial part of my motivation for inviting her.  I breathed in. This is fine. I like her well enough, so it’s not like it’s a chore. I thought. Honestly, there wasn’t much not to like. And so, we trotted to lunch together. However, before either of us could concoct a conversation, we ran into Pestle Mix just outside the cafeteria. “Hi, River!” Pestle said with more energy that I’d come to expect from her.  “Hi Pestle,” I said warmly. “What activity are you coming from?”  “Cooking,” she replied. I took a moment to think and nodded. “I can understand it: chemistry and cooking—there’s overlap there.” She shook her head. “I do it since cooking is fun. There’s a saying that alchemists are lousy cooks, so I practice to try and overcome that stereotype.” I looked back to Cake, expecting disappointment that her time with me would need to be shared. To the contrary, she seemed to be on the verge of joining in.  Then I locked eyes with the head of a small line of ponies we had been blocking. “Sorry,” I said sheepishly, stepping aside from the mess hall door. The alchemist filly seemed to be weighing her words. “Well, I’m sure you have things to do…” she said weakly. I studied her for a bit. Her body language did not comport with her words. It was obvious what she wanted. “You want to eat with us?” I asked, extending a hoof towards her for good effect. She beamed so brightly that I needed to look back towards Cake.  “By the way, Cake Slice the exchange student, meet Pestle Mix of Canterlot First. “Hi.” “Hi.” I looked between them. Neither seemed eager to elaborate. If they weren’t going to hit it off, I supposed it was my obligation to give them equal attention. But somehow, that seemed insufficient, and I wanted to do more. We found three open spaces and jumped onto the bench. The camp had all the logistics masterfully handled, and we were quickly served three identical plates. However, before I could size up my meal, a sixth sense alerted me that something annoying was coming. “Oh, hey, River, I didn’t see you there!” Alibi hailed. I rolled my eyes before spinning to face him. Sure enough, he had acquired another new marefriend. “Gilded Acres here told me that you worked on supply chains together. You must be very good friends!” “Not exact—” “Not exactly,” Gilded cut me off. “I’ll give her some credit, but otherwise, we’re still dethawing.” Alibi forced a laugh. “Now, Gilded, don’t tell me that supply chains are something you’d talk about with just anypony.” Gilded cringed and then stiffened up a little. “Well, I would, but normally ponies start nodding off within thirty seconds.” Alibi patted her side. “I guess that’s what makes us such a good match!” I made eye contact with my earth pony sorta friend. “Then, I’m sure you would enjoy hearing all about her family’s operations in Baltimare.” He blinked. “Well I don’t—” Gilded lit up, and I smiled back at her. “You can even walk him through that fifty-seven way merger of aggregated farmsteads.” “Sure thing. I’ll take him through all the details,” Gilded declared. At this point the changeling was trying to keep his cool, but his fidgety body language failed to help the cause. Suddenly, he galloped off. “Ohlookatthetime! See you later, Gilded,” he shouted in his wake, dashing off. “Thanks for helping me break up with my coltfriend,” the earth filly said. “I just want to see the end of these shenanigans.” Gilded eyed our food. “I think I can guess at what’s going on, but honestly, it sounds like it’s firmly in ‘your problem’ territory.” With that, she went in search for an open spot.  Is—is it too late for us to actually be friends? I like her attitude. For a minute, I was able to enjoy my food. There were three mini-sandwiches and a plump apple with some sugared biscuits for dessert. “Umm… River?” Cake Slice squeaked. For a selfish moment, I was annoyed, but then I remembered that these were the ponies I actually wanted to chat with. “Yes, Cake?” I responded. She hummed and hawed a bit, so I turned to make eye contact. Her eyes were sparkling… “Tell us about your new suitor!” I froze. It just had to be that. Looking for backup I faced Pestle, whose expression was cuter than expected, as she also implored, “Tell us!” I took turns looking at each of them, seeing no chink in their armor. “Cake, I thought you weren’t into this sort of thing. And Pestle, I’m a bit surprised you want to talk romance…” Cake Slice smiled. “Weeeeeell, normally I’m not so intrigued, but it’s you you’re talking about, River. I want to support you. Plus it’s just really exciting: it’s like a princess romance.” “As for me, I don’t particularly want to talk about your romantic life, but Alibi is a pretty good catch—handsome and all,” Pestle said matter-of-factly.  I became aware of eyes looming on the periphery of our conversation bubble. A sigh escaped me, as I gave into the inevitability of eavesdroppers. “He’s not cool at all,” I clarified. “He’s good at certain things, but none of it’s admirable. I don’t think he’s a good fit for any pony.” “That’s not a direct ‘no,’” Pestle noted. My patience fraying, I scowled at her. Cake Slice took a big bite of her apple and emanated an uncharacteristic amount of confidence once she was ready to speak again. “I always think it’s good to know the good and the bad.” “But, hey, if you don’t want to talk about it, I think we can stop the teasing here,” Pestle conceded. Cake nodded. I sighed in relief. “About Alibi’s personality, I’ll take your word for it, though,” Pestle said to me. “I don’t like him or anything; it’s just my parents keep telling me if I don’t keep a lookout for a potential mate, I’ll end up a hermit madmare.” I pondered the absurdity that somehow I had ended up talking about dating with the two fillies I knew to be least interested in romance. “What do you want to talk about, River?” Cake Slice offered. I put a hoof to my chin. “It’s hard for me to think about that right now since I’m so busy with the task I’ve been entrusted with. “The princess mission?” Cake asked. “It’s not a princess mission!” I shouted. “Also, how do you know about that?” “Word travels fast,” Pestle explained, to my chagrin. I could vividly picture the front page of a tabloid: “Monumental Princess Mission: 9 Ways it Will Change Equestria - Number Four is the Fourth Entry!” I stretched on my stool. “So, yeah, I’m trying to help all of the exchange ponies, but it’s really stressful.” Cake Slice frowned. “I’m sorry for troubling you.” “No, not at all,” I said, waving my forehooves. “I was happy to help you. The others are just… tougher.” “What qualifies as a success?” Pestle inquired. “Well, Celestia—” I shook my head. “I won’t lie to you, but I can’t give the full details for certain reasons. But it’s not a state secret or anything, though, so don’t overreact.” Pestle shrugged as she finished chewing. “Okay.”  Cake nodded. Well, that was easy. Why can’t all ponies be this cooperative? “If there’s anything we can do to help you, please tell us,” Pestle pleaded. “That goes double for me!” Cake said. I looked at her, and she flinched, blushing when she realized the attention of my peripheral crowd was now trained on her. “I mean, maybe not double, b—but I want to help out…” I darted my gaze between them. They were both determined to contribute. “I know what most of the friendship problems are, but the ponies I’m working with don’t seem to make any progress with me talking to them.” Ponies started to finish their meals and were now congregating at the perimeter of the cafeteria. “You didn’t solve my problem by talking, though?” Cake Slice reasoned. I stared up at the wood ceiling—it was surprisingly well maintained. “That’s true… but I don’t know.” “If you’re stuck, why not try something different?” Pestle suggested. I sighed. “The thing is, Cake, you asked me to help you; the others I had to approach. More importantly, you told me exactly what you needed help with.” “Why not ask them, then?” Pestle asked, scheming.   “It can’t be that easy!” I protested. “I’m not calling you dumb or anything,” Pestle assured me. ”But sometimes if you scrutinize something too closely, you lose track of the big picture and the simple solutions.” Cake Slice smiled at me. “Maybe I’m just hoping too much that we can help you out, but I think it’s worth a try.” How do I turn that down? “I’ll try it,” I said, with quiet determination. “I heard there’s romance talk around here?” a passing Sweetie Belle inquired. “No!” all three of us said at once.      Scootaloo made a face. “No thanks. I’m done poking my nose in that sort of thing.” “Were you three looking for me?” I asked the Crusaders. “Ah, it’s not much of anythin’. I just wanted to give you some tips about animals and all,” Applebloom said to me. “It’s an earth pony specialty, you know?” Animals, huh? Seems weird that they would end up picking that for me. Will they still be wary around me, or will they fawn over “the alicorn”. “Are all of you going to the Animal Care class?” Zephyr Zap asked, maneuvering her way into our conversation. I turned to greet the yellow and black pegasus. Atop her head was the recently-acquired kitten I had named for her. Of course pets were allowed; why wouldn’t they be? Applebloom perked up. “Ah! This here’s a good opportunity. Talkin’ to animals is really like talkin’ to ponies. You just have to listen a tad harder. Try it.” I looked across to the others in gaggle of fillies we had suddenly become. Surprisingly, I was the only one who found this suspect. I sighed. “I guess…” The kitten was eyeing me warily.  “Hiya, Falafel Mix. Nice to see you again.” The cat stared at me harder. “I—uh… how are you liking the name I picked for you?” He hissed and clawed at the air. I was unsure whether to classify that interaction as a success.