Sweet Sauce made it through one day of pony school.
Barely.
More than once he found himself wondering if it would've been kinder just to opt for execution. At least that way he wouldn't have been suffering through agonizing, time-wasting hours.
Of course there was nothing new in the fundamentals. Language had changed some of its conventions since he left, but not by much. He could still work with figures, and blasted through every level of student evaluation.
That didn’t mean there weren't big holes, though. Just like Vinyl had highlighted, he didn't know a damn thing about local history or customs. He didn't know the general happenings around Equestria either—why had Princess Luna been banished, how the buck had Tirek found his way back to Equestrian land? Many other, similar questions, all got left blank on his sheet.
Well, after the first one. He came up with a comical fiction for the first question, describing in vivid detail how Princess Luna had discovered Celestia's sweet tooth and publicly shamed her before the Solar Court, only to be banished as soon as they were gone for the day.
He could've sworn he detected a chuckle from Cheerilee when she was grading that question. But lies were a lot of work, and it was much easier just to lean into what he was.
I look like a stupid mud horse. Treat me like one. It can't take very long to teach me how to pull farm equipment. Then I can be out of this stupid place, and you can go back to instructing the other peasants.
"This is the strangest score I have ever seen," Cheerilee said, after dismissing the other students for recess. He sat glumly before her desk, listening with envy as they did anything besides waste away in a stuffy old schoolhouse.
"The test doesn't even have an evaluation for your grasp of language, mathematics, and magical comprehension. But these other scores are... needing improvement." Her face twitched as she said it, suppressing whatever she actually wanted to say. "You've never learned anything about the history of Equestria?"
"I've learned tons." He looked back, unflinching. Sweet wasn't going to be intimidated by a schoolteacher. "None of it was on your test. Ask me about the Tribe Wars, the Scouring of Starswirl, ask me about the Windigos or the Sugar Scourge." He lowered his head at that, taking a pose of mock respect. "May the dead rest in delicious honor."
“That is... very interesting." She set the sheet down, leaning over her desk to watch him. "Could you tell me a little about your instruction, Sweet? I'd expect scores like this from a student going into Celestia's Academy, a decade older than you. Who taught you all this?"
"Clover, mostly," he said, without a hint of irony. "Starswirl was too good for anypony who wasn't a princess. Him and his stupid Pillars of Equestria. Then he up and got himself banished, and it was Clover all the time after that." He glanced longingly at the open windows, and the giggling voices beyond. "Harsh schoolmaster, he was. No breaks."
Cheerilee watched him without comprehension. After a few seconds, she waved towards the door. "Well thank you for, uh... telling me all that. You can join the others. I'll have to think of a curriculum suited for a student as unique as you are, Sweet. I don't want your potential wasted."
"Too late for that, miss," he said, scampering off. "A few centuries too late. I'm every kind of wasted that a pony my age can be. Legally speaking."
He chanced one look at her face, and the layers of deeper confusion warping there. There weren't very many advantages, but being this age did have its perks.
As it turned out, Cheerilee gave lots of long breaks between classes. Despite Ponyville's size, it had a set of really nice playground equipment, with lots of layers and things to climb on. The few pegasi in class took their turns gliding off the highest points, while others amused themselves in little groups.
He found his way to Pipsqueak and Dinky, and they accepted him without complaint.
"What were all those papers?" Dinky asked, kicking him the ball they'd been playing with.
He passed it back, instead of sideways to Pip as the game required. "Don't roll it." He tapped his forehead expectantly. "Every chance to practice. Train your mind; nothing but your magic is an acceptable solution."
"You don't have to listen," Pip urged. But even he seemed to realize how fruitiness the argument was, because he didn't keep it up for more than a few seconds. He watched without objection as Dinky passed the ball again, this time wobbling in shaky magic.
Sweet caught it in one hoof, nodding approvingly. "Good!" He passed it on to Pipsqueak without even looking in his direction. "You'll be a pro conjurer before you know it."
"So what was all that?" Pipsqueak asked again, a little more insistent. "You were really goin' to town back there."
He grunted in dissatisfaction. "Unfortunately it appears my efforts were in vain. I wished to impress upon our instructor the futility of educating me. That would hopefully convey to my adoptive parents the absence of any need to keep me enrolled. Unfortunately there are a number of… gaps. Contemporary history, mostly. Can't be helped."
He slumped onto the ground between them, ears flattening. "She isn't going to recommend to Vinyl that I don't belong here. Cheerilee is just going to give me a targeted education. I can already feel it approaching."
He also felt the ball coming, lobbed by magic straight at his head. He caught it with one hoof, grateful for the sturdiness of earth pony bodies. At least being a stupid dirt horse got him something. He stopped it, then rolled it back towards Pipsqueak.
"I'm glad you're staying," Dinky said, without missing a beat. "Nopony else can teach magic like you do."
"There were others," he said, a little more cheerfully. "Unfortunately, they're dust now. I've been gone too long. Even the powerful spellcasters I knew get reluctant to extend their lives if it meant dealing with awkwardness like..."
He stood up on undersized legs, gesturing at his blank flank. "Well, this. Precision and accuracy, fillies and colts. Learn the difference."
"You're a weird pony," Pipsqueak said. "Guess it makes sense you're staying. Might get into trouble if they let you wander off."
He nodded confidently at the dirthorse. "I assure you, I will find my way into trouble no matter where I'm shoved. Here, there, banishment to another reality. Wherever I go, disaster will surely follow. Mostly for me."
The bell rang, and soon enough it was back into the classroom for another few hours of pointless instruction. Sweet weathered it, mostly by quickly filling in whatever answers came to mind and then doodling increasingly bizarre things on the margins of his assignments. Let Cheerilee figure out what to make of an Exoplanar Summoning diagram. Or... half of one.
The other half was a recipe for a kind of cookies humans liked to make. One of the few things worth a little of his own time, though he would never admit it.
Blessedly, his rescue did come, in time. Unfortunately for him, it came from a princess. Not the one he'd wanted to meet, either.
Twilight Sparkle appeared in the doorway, about ten minutes from the end of class. She whispered something, and Cheerilee nodded her approval. "Sweet Sauce? The princess would like to speak with you. To... welcome you to Ponyville!" That last bit sounded a little strained, even for her.
The other students began to whisper. Most looked away from the doorway, intimidated by the creature looking there. Even a dirt pony could probably sense the magic radiating from her.
Twilight Sparkle might not rank against some of the ancient powers that had once ruled in Equestria. But her eyes were quick, and she radiated a steady stream of magical power. Nothing like Celestia or Luna, but enough that he wouldn't miss it.
"He'll be back tomorrow," Twilight promised. "But I'll worry about getting him back to his family this time."
It wasn't like Sweet had anything to bring from the desk. He rose, making his slow way over to the Alicorn. He ignored the whispers, and the confused stares from his friends.
Were they his friends? They had fought monsters together, once. That probably counted.
Twilight said nothing until they were out of the schoolhouse, and onto the road. She glanced up at the school, then gestured in the direction that would take them away from Ponyville. There was a single residence down this way, and nothing else.
"If you changed your mind about the execution, I know I deserve a trial. At least let me have my hearing before you bury me."
The Alicorn froze on her hooves, staring openly at him. "Do you always say things like that, Sweet?" she asked. "Honeydew reported that you had a colorful vocabulary."
He nodded once. "I've read my share. You try finding something else worth doing in New Mexico. Your choice is a good book or a few hours sweating in the sun. Take your pick."
The princess looked thoughtful. Maybe this was the moment that someone actually heard what he had to say?
"I called you out of class because of... a combination of factors. They concerned Honeydew, and me too. Since I'm in charge of Ponyville, I was close enough to visit and speak with you."
He said nothing, letting the painful silence stretch between them. Sweet had now tried telling two different adults the truth. There was no point volunteering anymore. They never listened.
She might be a princess, but the pressure of his silence wore her down rapidly. Just a few seconds, and she was squirming. "During the rescue, you mentioned something to the older ponies, something that nopony your age should have heard of."
She stopped, her wings half-opening. "There's no wrong answer, sweetheart. No one is upset with you. But I would like to know where you heard about Necromancy."
Oh buck. He'd mentioned it as a passing joke, so briefly that no one noticed. Or more likely, nopony had recognized the word. Except her. "You won't believe me if I told you, Princess. Nobody has. I say things, and nobody believes. Nopony hears. I told Honeydew that I needed to speak with Princess Celestia, that I was ready to face my judgement. But here I am, adopted out to..."
He couldn't bring himself to speak ill of Vinyl and Octavia. He almost did—but they'd never actually done anything to him. Besides, Vinyl hadn't let him try her equipment yet.
"Ponies. You won't listen either."
He felt the touch of wings against his face. Incredibly soft, pushing up on his chin. "Face judgement for what, Sweet Sauce? What could a colt your age have done?"
She had listened, at least in some small way. The words turned to mush in his mouth. He remembered fire, and a terrible crater ripped in the royal laboratory. He heard the swirling madness of outer darkness, and the torn scar in reality his spell had made.
He shook his head vigorously, banishing the pain. His head was quite small, there wasn't room for agony like that. A colt his age shouldn't need to cry. "Things you can't imagine," he whispered, voice cracking. "Princess Twilight, I was banished from Equestria for what I did. I served my sentence, and now I'm back. Until I meet with her and Luna, there's unfinished business."
The Alicorn stood a little straighter. "Does it have anything to do with what you talked about out in the forest?"
He shook his head once. "Necromancy? That's foal's stuff—cheap power for small minds. I like being alive, thanks. Can't work with the dead before you start to die a little too."
Twilight's face was a mask. Her wings snapped to her sides, and she finally pointed back the way they'd come. "Thanks for talking to me, Sweet Sauce. You've given me something to think about."
"Please tell her," he whispered. Begged, even. "Just ask. She'll know who I am. She's the only one in Equestria who will."