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// Chapter One: In Which Art is Questioned 
// Story: A Family Matter 
// by Bardsworth Brony 
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	Sketch looked out over the eyes that stared back at him; eyes that studied him and judged him, that waited for him to say what he had to say.  A bead of sweat rolled down the back of his neck from under his messy brown mane, in part due to the heat in the room, but mostly from his nervousness.  Swallowing to moisten his dry throat, he tried to put his thoughts into some semblance of order.  Of course he had practiced speaking over and over before showing up, getting his words into just the right order, but as soon as he had gotten up in front of everyone the words had seemed to scatter like leaves in the wind.  For the life of him, he couldn't remember how he had meant to begin, but he had already wasted almost a minute just standing there looking ridiculous.  It was time to say something.  "Good morning-" he started, but his voice cracked, and as he cleared it he could hear snickering coming from several places in the room.  He licked his lips and started again, a blush rising in his cheeks but thankfully hidden beneath his dark purple hair.  "Good morning, class.  My, uh… my name is Sketch, and I, um… I'll be teaching you about art for the… for the next several weeks."
He glanced over at Cheerilee, who gave him a smile and a nod.  Then he looked back out over the children and caught sight of Apple Bloom.  The little yellow filly grinned and gave him a wink.  The encouragement helped a bit, and so Sketch continued on, grasping at his scattered thoughts the best that he could.  "I've, um… I've studied art most of my life and… well, it's… it's had a big impact on me.  I hope that you… I hope that it inspires you, too."  Feeling more at ease now that he had gained some momentum, Sketch took a deep breath and opened his mouth again to speak.
"So, why exactly do we need to learn about art?"  The interrupting question came from a prissy-looking pony in the second row.  Her narrowed eyes seemed to be the most judgmental in the room, regarding Sketch in much the same way as many of his peers from his hometown had once done.
"Diamond Tiara," Cheerilee said in a stern voice, leaning over her desk.  "That is awfully rude!  Sketch is a guest here in the classroom, and you should show him as much respect as you show me."
"I was just asking a question," the filly said in an ingratiatingly innocent tone, though her eyes still spoke of a challenge.
"Actually, Miss Cherilee," Sketch said, trying to salvage the moment, "I'd like to answer her question if I may."  The teacher nodded, but continued to glare at her student warningly.  Sketch turned back to Diamond Tiara, meeting her challenging gaze.  "You asked a very important question.  Why do you need to learn about art?  It's just a bunch of drawings and paintings and statues, right?"  Diamond Tiara didn't say anything, but it was clear from her expression that she agreed.  "Well, there a lot of reasons to learn about art.  It's a way to learn about the history of our culture.  Looking at the artistic works of ponies from centuries ago can give us insight into how they lived and how they thought.  It helps us understand how we came to this point in our development, and it gives us an appreciation of how far we've come.
"Or think about it this way," Sketch said, pacing back and forth, fired up and forgetting all of his previous worries and anxiety.  "When an architect plans a building, he doesn't just plan it for stability and function.  He adds flares to it, decorations, things to make it aesthetically pleasing.  Or when a baker makes a cake, she likes to put her own flourishes on it – flowers of icing, ridges, tiers.  You see, art is about creativity, about putting a bit of yourself into what you do, whether it's painting or building or baking."
His gaze fell back on Diamond Tiara who, rather than looking inspired, was almost sleeping.  And that's when Sketch realized that the filly didn't want to hear what he had to say; her question had been a rhetorical challenge, a bit of fun at his expense.  His heart sank, but as he looked around the classroom and saw many of the other young ponies' interested, even hungry, expressions, he knew that he'd be able to reach at least a few of them.  So, lifting his heart back up a little, he tried to recall the lesson he had put together and continued on as best he could.


***


"Thank you so much for doing this, Sketch," Cheerilee said once the children had filed out of the schoolhouse.  "It's good to have an expert on the subject.  I've never been much for art myself, to be honest.  I still feel bad that we can't pay you, though."
"Don't worry about it," Sketch said, shaking his head.  "I'm glad to share my knowledge with the kids.  I wish somepony had taught me this stuff when I was young.  You just use whatever money you do have on the art supplies we'll be using later on."
The pink-haired teacher thanked Sketch again and went outside.  Sketch took a moment to wander around the schoolhouse, comparing the lively nature of it to the cold, sterile private school that he had attended as a young colt.  He was glad that schoolhouse was still standing after all Ponyville had been through recently.  It had remained untouched from the fires that had taken a good number of buildings.
With that thought, he found himself reliving the past few months, beginning with the drought.  It had been such a hot and dry summer, far worse than anything Equestria had ever experienced.    Then the fires had started.  The vegetation, dry and brittle from the lack of rain, had somehow caught fire and the fires had spread with a vicious speed.  The pegasi of Ponyville had worked diligently to channel water over the flames, but it did little to help.  Twilight Sparkle had used all the magic she could to battle the fires, but even magic hadn't been enough.  Finally, Rainbow Dash had come up with the idea of creating vortexes to suck the oxygen from the flames and put them out, and working nonstop with the other pegasi, the ponies had managed to finally kill off the flames.  Unfortunately, the fire had taken almost half of Ponyville with it.  Most days Sketch could hear the sounds of hammering and sawing as the residents helped one another to rebuild what was lost.  He helped where he could, though his construction skills left a little something to be desired.
His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a familiar icy voice just outside the classroom window.  "…so stupid.  And you know what?  'Sketch' isn't even his real name."
"Seriously?"
"My dad told me.  Apparently he changed his name to Sketch after his parents kicked him out of the house for being useless.  His real name is-"
"Hey big bro!" Apple Bloom called out as she entered the schoolhouse, startling Sketch from eavesdropping on Diamond Tiara's conversation.  Following behind the filly were her two friends.
"Oh, uh, hey little sis," Sketch said, using his pet name for her.  "Hi Sweetie Belle, hi Scootaloo."
"We just wanted to say thanks fer teachin' us about art 'n stuff," Apple Bloom said.
"Yeah," Scootaloo said.  "So much more fun than math."
"Math was never my favorite, either," Sketch said with a smile, stepping away from the window reluctantly.
"Will we get to actually make stuff?" Sweetie Belle asked eagerly.
"Absolutely!  Miss Cheerilee is trying to gather together what money she can in order to buy supplies for you all.  Once that happens, we'll make all sorts of things."
"Yay!" the little fillies yelled, and Sketch had to laugh.  It was so great to see such enthusiasm.
"See ya' at home, big bro," Apple Bloom said, turning to the door.  "We got a meetin' t' get to right now.  Let's go, Crusaders!"  With that, the little ponies bolted from the schoolhouse, chattering away excitedly.
Alone again, Sketch stepped back to the window, but Diamond Tiara was gone.  But a mystery remained - how had she known about his real name?  She said her father had told her, but how did he know?  And where had he gotten the ludicrous idea that Sketch had been kicked out of his parents' house?  Was someone spreading rumors about him?
Concerned, but unable to answer his own questions, Sketch slipped on his saddlebag and strolled out into the sunlit afternoon, the bright rays settling over his dark purple hair.  Although summer was winding down and there was the underlying presence of an autumn breeze in the air, it was still quite warm, like the residual heat of a baker's oven after it had been turned off.  Thoughts of bakers caused a pang in Sketch's insides.  Sugarcube Corner had been one of the buildings consumed by the fire.  The poor Cakes were working around the clock to get it rebuilt, but even once they did they'd still need to replace everything that had been lost.
Sketch passed by the bakery in question and saw Mr. Cake up on the roof working away with a couple of other ponies.  The baker caught sight of Sketch and waved cheerfully.  Returning the gesture, Sketch could only admire the pony's ability to stay cheerful through such a time.  
Then he stopped cold as something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.  When he turned, he saw nothing.  Or, rather, nopony.  Either they had gone around the corner, or he had been seeing things.  Shaking his head, he opted to believe the latter.  His mind had been on depressing thoughts all day; it was only natural that his subconscious would bring them up.
Depressing thoughts of past and present vanished as he approached the library, undamaged by the fires.  Twilight had been unable to extinguish the fires with her magic, but she had been able to protect the library and its contents, though she had been exhausted and sick for days afterwards.  Sketch had been there for her, as had the rest of her friends, watching over her and caring for her, as they had once done for him when he had arrived in Ponyville.  With a rueful smile, he shook his head; what an interesting time that had been.
"Anyone home?" he called into the library as he opened the door.
"Hey Sketch!" Spike said, appearing from one of the rooms, waving his clawed hand.  The little purple dragon grinned, showing a couple of sharp teeth, but otherwise looking as harmless as a baby dragon could look.
Following behind Spike was Twilight Sparkle, a bright smile on her face.  "Sketch!  How was your first day teaching?"
"It was… okay," he admitted.  "I was so nervous, Twilight.  I hate speaking in front of crowds.  I almost couldn't do it."
"But you did, and that's the important thing."
"Yeah, I guess.  I mean, once I started talking about the stuff I believed in, it just sort of rolled off of my tongue."
"I once read somewhere that when you speak about something you're passionate about, the fear goes away and you're left with just the passion."
"That's for sure.  And some of the students were actually interested.  Others… not so much."
The purple unicorn shrugged.  "You won't be able to get everypony interested.  When I start talking about magic, most ponies stop paying attention."
"Not me," Sketch said with a grin.  "And on that subject, here are your books back."  He turned to the side and Twilight's horn glowed, the magic lifting the flap of Sketch's saddlebag and levitating three books up into the air.
"I don't know how you have time to read them so quickly," she said shaking her head.  "I almost think you read faster than me."
"I get so sucked into them," he said, watching Spike gather the books and set out to finding their resting places in the walls of shelves.  "Magic has always fascinated me, almost as much as art.  Heck, magic would make doing my paintings so much easier!"
"Did you want to grab a few more?"
"Not today.  I actually have to get going.  I'm cooking for the family tonight.  They're so busy trying to keep the apple harvest from being a complete failure."
Twilight's face grew serious.  "I can't believe what a rough time Ponyville has had.  But it's been all of Equestria, too.  Princess Celestia said that the drought hit hard in a lot of places, and that other cities and towns experienced fires, too."
"Does she know why?"
"She says it was just a chance of nature, like a hurricane or a tornado.  And we're not allowed to curb things like that with magic.  Too much meddling in the natural order of things can do even more damage."
Sketch shook his head.  "Well, we've all got each other at least."
Twlight smiled.  "That's for sure."
The two said their goodbyes and Sketch headed back home to Sweet Apple Acres.  As he was passing through town again, though, he had another moment when he thought he saw familiar faces.  As before, though, they were gone when he tried to locate them.  Maybe it's just the heat, he thought, though it was hardly as hot as it had been.  He tried to put it out of his mind and focus on the dinner he'd be cooking that night, but he couldn't help feeling like there was a storm brewing… and not the kind that Ponyville desperately needed.