Tuesday morning found Dinky and Clarity awake considerably earlier than they had been on Monday. Since they had some time before morning classes began, they went to the dining hall with Honeydew for some breakfast.
“So,” said Clarity through a mouthful of grass pancakes, “do we all have different classes today, or will we be in some together again?”
Dinky pushed her bowl of oatmeal aside and placed her schedule on the table in its place. “Well, my morning class is something called ‘Magical Biology.’ How do you suppose magic applies to biology?” she asked.
“Oh, I have that class too! It’s really an interesting subject!” Honeydew chimed in, surprising her friends with her unusually enthusiastic tone. The pink filly noticed how loudly she had spoken a moment later, and proceeded to blush and slump a bit lower in her chair.
“Um…” she continued, much more quietly, “…Magic Biology is both a study of plants and animals with magical properties and abilities, and a set of spells that can have beneficial effects on them. During the time I spent working with my tutor, I had some time to begin studying it. Of the magical subjects I’ve studied, I think it’s probably my favorite.”
“Well, you two have fun with that,” Clarity said slowly, only half paying attention as she looked over her own schedule. “I have a different class this morning. Let me know how it was later today, alright?”
“Of course!” said Dinky cheerfully.
“Good! Now I gotta go,” Clarity replied as she swung her saddlebag over her back. “My class is up on the fifth floor or something like that, and who knows how long it’ll take to get all the way up there.”
The grey filly waved and scampered off toward the corridor.
“Clarity certainly is energetic,” Honeydew said absently as she watched her friend’s bright blue tail disappear around a corner.
“You were kind of energetic yourself a minute ago,” Dinky pointed out. “This magic biology must really be something special.”
“Well, come and see for yourself,” Honeydew said. “Class is starting soon. I hope you’ll have as much fun with it as I will.”
Dinky was happy to see Honeydew filled with new initiative; the usually shy pony eagerly led the way as the two fillies trotted down the hall toward their next class.
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The classroom was at the end of the hall on the ground floor of the castle. Dinky and Honeydew found the door already wide open when they arrived. The room they found beyond it was quite unlike the one they’d had class in the day before.
There were a few rows of desks, but the class size was obviously much smaller than the Practical Magic one had been. Three of the walls were wood paneled, but the fourth one was entirely glass, allowing sunlight to wash over a collection of exotic looking plants growing in pots of various sizes on that side of the room. The ceiling was curved, and rafters crisscrossed just beneath it. Dinky spied a few nests tucked into the corners of some of the wooden beams, but their occupants appeared to be absent at the moment.
At the front of the room, a short, stocky, middle-aged mare with a dark brown coat and dull reddish-brown mane stood by the teacher’s desk. Her Cutie Mark was a trio of colorful birds, and she wore a wide straw sun hat with a cheerful blue ribbon tied around it. A small bird, no bigger than a sparrow and bright green in color, sat contently on one side of the hat’s wide brim.
Honeydew trotted to an open seat as close to the front of the room as possible. Dinky followed along and took the one just behind her friend’s. The pair waited a few more minutes as the remaining few students arrived and took their seats.
“Good morning students!” the mare at the front of the room called. “My name is Profess—”
She was cut off by some laughter in the back of the room. The professor’s voice was not particularly loud or commanding, and a few students were still ignoring her and continuing their conversation, and some of the others were digging through their saddlebags for new notebooks or quills.
The professor cleared her throat. “Excuse me, students! We’re going to start now.”
Still, she was ignored.
“Hey!” shouted another voice entirely. “Turn those dopey snouts of yours forward, you little good-for-nothin’s!”
Dinky blinked in surprise. The voice sounded as if it had come from the professor’s direction, but it was clearly not hers. The filly looked around the room to try to determine the source, before casting a baffled glance at Honeydew, who responded with an equally bewildered shrug.
Wherever the shout had come from, it had certainly caught the misbehaving students’ attention; they now faced the professor, looking a bit confused.
“Thank you, Cornelius,” the professor said quietly. “Try to watch your demeanor, though. There’s no need to be so rude.”
The bird on the professor’s hat strutted forward and leaned over until he was nearly upside-down, peering right into her bright green eyes. “Yeah, yeah…” it said in the same, somewhat grating voice. “You’d never get anything done without me, though.”
The professor chuckled as the students looked on in awe at the talking bird. “Quite right,” she agreed, nodding to the bird, “but I think I can handle it from here.”
Cornelius ruffled his feathers and returned to his perch on the brim of the hat, looking proud of himself.
“Now, once again, good morning students!” the mare called cheerfully, raising a hoof in greeting. “My name is Professor Chestnut, expedition enthusiast and one of Equestria’s leading experts in the field of Magical Biology.”
She pointed to the strange, talking bird. “And this fellow taking up space on my hat is my assistant, Cornelius,” she added. “I came across him in a jungle beyond Equestrian borders, and he’s been helping me with odds and ends with my research and teaching ever since.”
“Odds and ends?” Cornelius squawked. “Silly Chestnut, everpony knows I should be the professor here for all the work I do!”
Professor Chestnut reached up and clamped Cornelius’s beak shut with a hoof. “Anyway,” she continued, ignoring the bird’s muffled protests, “welcome to first-level Magical Biology. As this is an elective course, I know there are a few of you in here who are second- or third-term students, so be forewarned that the type of magic used here is quite different from that which is used in many other classes.”
Cornelius placed his talons against Chestnut’s hoof and wrenched himself free of the mare’s grip. “Yeah, don’t think you can slack off,” he snickered, “or Chestnut will fail your sorry flanks!”
Professor Chestnut rolled her eyes. “Now, rather than handing out the textbooks and giving some introductory lecture,” she said to the class, “I think the best way to introduce you all to the basics of the subject is to proceed right to the practical aspect. Grab your things, we’re going outside for our first lesson!”
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A few minutes later, Professor Chestnut, Cornelius, and the twenty or so colts and fillies were standing in a wide fenced area on a hillside near the castle. The slope was covered in spring buds, but no flowers had bloomed yet.
“Alright, colts and fillies, let’s get right down to business!” the professor called invitingly, waving a hoof to draw the children closer to her. “You’re probably wondering what it is we’re doing out here, but before I can explain that, we need to have a brief discussion. The basic, fundamental goal of the spells we’ll be using in this class is to establish a deep and vigorous connection with other living things.”
She gestured broadly to the hillside. “Take these flowers for example,” she said, gently lifting one of the sagging buds with a hoof. “The buds are just about ready to open. It’s pretty warm for such an early spring day, and I’m sure most of them are ready to spread their petals and take in some sunlight. How about we help them along?”
“It’s a simple job, really,” Cornelius added haughtily as he hovered above the professor. “Just light up those ugly rods stickin’ out of your foreheads and will the flower to open up. If I was a unicorn, I bet I could pull it off in a second.”
“Enough, Cornelius,” said Chestnut crossly, giving the students an apologetic glance. “But yes, that is the goal. Don’t force the flower to open; try to coax it instead. Try it by yourselves for a bit, and if you can’t get it, I’ll help you.”
Chestnut trotted out of the way and pulled a research notebook out from beneath her large sunhat, and resigned herself to scribbling in it. Cornelius contently nestled himself into the brim of her hat and he and the professor began to discuss the notebook’s contents, leaving the students free to attempt the new spell.
Dinky walked a few paces down the hillside and stood in front of a dense patch of unopened buds. Honeydew stood next to her, watching curiously.
“You can try first,” Honeydew said. “I’ve done this before anyway.”
Dinky nodded and focused on the tiny plant in front of her, surrounding and cradling it with her magic. She could feel the flower with her mind, but she found herself unsure of how to proceed. Her first instinct was to try to move the petals as she would move any other object with levitation, but the professor had claimed that this process required a different type of magic.
Let’s see… she thought to herself as she handled the delicate plant, maybe if I straighten it a bit… but no, I don’t want to uproot it… perhaps there’s some kind of pressure point in the stem that will trigger the petals to unfurl? Hmm… no, that’s not it either…
Dinky struggled in vain with the flower for about a minute before giving in. The light around her horn flickered and died and she frowned and opened her eyes.
“Well this is stupid,” she said, stamping a hoof in frustration. “I don’t get it; if we’re not supposed to just pull open the petals, what are we supposed to do?”
Honeydew cleared her throat. “Can I make a suggestion?” she asked hesitantly.
“Sure.”
“I think you might be going about it the wrong way,” Honeydew admitted, cringing a bit as if expecting Dinky to be upset with her criticism. “It’s like you’re trying to use a spell similar to the ones we learned in Practical Magic.”
“Should I be doing something else?” Dinky asked perplexedly. “I’m afraid I don’t understand what Professor Chestnut meant by ‘coax it to open’.”
“Well, it’s just like it sounds, really,” Honeydew replied with increasing confidence. “The flower is a living thing too. You’ve got to use your magic to connect with it. It’s like… like learning to speak its language, or something. And once you’ve figured that part out, you just ask it to open for you…”
Honeydew lit her horn, and her pale green aura surrounded a daisy growing just in front of her hooves. The plant stood straight, as if at attention, and then promptly flicked open all of its bright white petals at once.
“…and it handles the rest,” the pink filly finished, obviously pleased with the result.
Dinky’s jaw dropped. “You made that look so easy!” she exclaimed enviously.
Honeydew just shrugged. “Well, like I said, I’ve done it before,” she said nonchalantly. She pointed to a flower that appeared to be ready to open. “Go ahead, try it again.”
Dinky once again put her full focus on the flower, and once again, felt the extension of her thoughts wrap around it.
This is not just an object, she told herself, this is a living being. I’m not controlling it, I’m just connecting with it.
Dinky squeezed her eyes shut and tried to take every aspect of the flower into her mind. She thought about the roots, drawing in life from the ground. She focused on the stem, working tirelessly to support the top of the plant against wind and gravity. And then there was the bud, still trying to conceal the petals from the outside air.
And then, faintly, something began to flicker in the corners of her mind. It couldn’t quite be considered a consciousness, but it was certainly a presence. Dinky focused on it, bringing it to the forefront of her thoughts.
The resulting sensation startled her so much that she nearly lost concentration. She could suddenly feel the cool water creeping through the roots, and the warm sun on the rest of the plant. The tension that held the bud shut seemed to weigh on her own body as well. Amazed, Dinky realized that her mind and the flower’s… well, whatever it was that flowers had instead of minds had tapped in to one another.
Spring is here, little flower, she thought gently. There’s no reason to stay all curled up. Open up that bud and get some sun!
Dinky tried to relax herself, hoping it would convince the flower to do the same. For a moment, it refused to yield, but very slowly, it responded to her suggestion, and the tension began to melt away.
Honeydew watched with interest as Dinky’s whole body gradually relaxed. The flower surrounded by Dinky’s magic quivered, and then, one by one, the petals began to unfurl. The process took much longer than it had when the pink filly had performed it, but ultimately, the result was the same: the flower bore all of its stark white petals to the spring air.
Dinky’s magic finally ceased, and her eyes fluttered open. She stared down at the flower, completely amazed at the extent of the connection she’d shared with it through her magic.
“See? Not too hard, right?” Honeydew asked tentatively, placing her hoof on Dinky’s shoulder.
“No, it’s just… very different,” Dinky said, the memories of the flower’s essence still fresh in her mind. “I didn’t realize magic could even be used for things like that…”
She trailed off and looked down at the flower again, and couldn’t help but feel a touch of affection for it now that she’d helped it turn its petals skyward.
“Well, well, well! I see you two have made some fine progress already!”
The fillies looked up as Professor Chestnut came trotting over and examined the flowers approvingly. “Impressive!” she continued. “You’re the first ones in the class to open a flower. It usually takes new students much longer to figure out how to magically interact with another living thing.”
“Yeah, you two are definitely not completely clueless!” Cornelius added in such a sincere voice that Dinky was convinced it was his warped attempt at a compliment.
“Thanks, professor,” Dinky answered, “but I only managed because Honeydew here showed me how.”
“Oh?” Professor Chestnut asked, turning to Honeydew. “And how did you figure it out so fast, dear?”
“I’ve had some prior experience, professor,” Honeydew replied nervously. “In fact, I think I can safely say I know a little more about magical biology than just opening flowers, since, uh…”
Rather than finish her sentence, Honeydew simply turned sheepishly and showed off her Cutie Mark.
Chestnut’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, goodness, that would explain it! We have a junior magical biologist here!” she said gleefully, sitting back and clapping her front hooves together and causing Cornelius to frantically flap his wings to keep his balance. “I hope the first few weeks of class don’t bore you, Miss Honeydew! I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re a few steps ahead of the rest of the students.”
Honeydew blushed at the praise. “Oh, don’t worry, professor,” she answered a little more earnestly. “I’m always willing to practice the simpler concepts. Besides, I’m not that good at it yet…”
“Not that good!?” Dinky balked. “Honeydew, why don’t you open another flower so the professor can see?”
Honeydew hesitated, but encouraged by Dinky’s eager expression, she picked out another unopened flower, lit her horn, and once again, the plant seemed almost eager to obey, and it promptly popped open.
“Jeez,” said Cornelius, giving a low whistle. “Talk about an over-achiever. I’ve seen fifth-term ponies who can’t do that that fast.”
“Yes, but their special talents were unrelated to the subject,” Chestnut argued. “I dare say she’s better at it than you would be if you were a pony, since your special talent is clearly mouthing off.”
Cornelius scowled and occupied himself with preening his feathers.
“Well, I think I’d better return to helping the rest of the class, girls,” Chestnut admitted, scanning the rest of the class, who all seemed to be failing in various ways. “The two of you should continue practicing. There are plenty of unopened flowers to go around.”
She glanced at Honeydew. “And feel free to come and talk to me sometime if you’re curious about anything relating to Magical Biology,” she said warmly. “Don’t feel limited by what we learn in this class if you’d like to study additional topics yourself!”
Honeydew’s eyes lit up. “Really?” she asked, stepping forward and looking up at Chestnut in something like awe. “Um, thank you, professor! I’ll definitely take you up on that.”
Chestnut smiled, and gave a casual wave of her hoof as she trotted away.
Honeydew watched her go, and then began to amble down the hillside, humming contently and opening the flowers as she walked. Dinky had never seen her friend acting like this; Honeydew’s usual uncertainty seemed to have melted away completely.
“Wow, Honeydew, I didn’t realize you were some kind of prodigy at this stuff,” Dinky admitted. “I guess you’re really in your element out here, huh?”
Honeydew’s ear twitched, and she stopped walking. “I’m not a prodigy, Dinky. I just really enjoy the subject.”
“But you heard the professor!” Dinky argued. “You’re better at this than some of the fifth-term students! Even if it is your special talent, you'd still need to practice to get that good, don’t you?”
“In a way, I have been practicing all my life,” Honeydew said as she opened another flower.
Dinky raised an eyebrow. “But you had a magic tutor, didn’t you?” she asked. “It can’t have been more than a few years since you learned how to do this.”
Honeydew smiled faintly. “Dinky, I mean no offence, but I think maybe your idea of ‘magic’ is a little more closed-minded than it should be,” she proposed.
Dinky wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, so she sat down on the grass and waited for her friend to continue.
“You see, I don’t think it’s really accurate to say that unicorns are the only ponies with magic,” Honeydew explained, turning away from the flowers and looking at Dinky. “Sure, we’re the only ones who can use it consciously, but that doesn’t mean it’s ours and ours alone. After all, the whole field of Magic Biology is about finding and interacting with that innate magic in every living thing.”
The shy filly pointed at the flower Dinky had opened a few minutes earlier. “Now, when you connected with that flower, you felt that magic, right? You had to, or it wouldn’t have listened to you.”
Dinky nodded.
“If a flower has magic, even if it’s just a little, it’s fair to assume that earth and pegasus ponies have magic somewhere too, right?” Honeydew asked earnestly. “I’ve lived with earth ponies all my life. I’ve walked through the fields where all of our crops were growing. And when you spend enough time with the plants, you can start to feel that magic yourself, whether you know a spell for it or not. I could feel it, and I could tell my parents and aunts and uncles could feel it even more than I could.”
“Because they’re earth ponies?” Dinky asked.
“Exactly,” Honeydew replied. “That’s the magic that earth ponies have, I think: a connection to the land, to the things that grow in the soil and live on the ground. They can’t consciously tap into the essence of the plants like we can with spells, but they’ve learned other ways of communication that are just as effective. They really aren’t limited by their lack of a unicorn horn at all.”
Dinky recalled a specific powerful quote from her beginner’s magic guide: Magic is limited only by the strength of the mind and the passion of the heart. Dinky knew earth ponies and pegasi had their own special abilities, but she’d never considered them as magic before.
Honeydew sighed contently. “I think that’s why I’ve taken such an interest in Magical Biology,” she pointed out. “Sometimes I feel more like an earth pony than a unicorn, but despite that, I was never quite able to feel that same connection to the land that my family could feel without the aid of spells.”
Upon reaching that topic, she frowned. “…Of course, it’s because of those very spells that my parents and I have reached the state we’re in,” she mumbled, ears and tail drooping as she did so.
Honeydew unconsciously rubbed the small gash in her horn, as she often did when thinking of her parents’ attitude toward magic.
“Sometimes I just wish there was a way to make them understand that magic isn’t all curses and unnatural manipulation,” she continued, “but if I told them that my magic is the same as theirs, they’d think I was crazy…”
Honeydew was beginning to get upset again. Dinky trotted over and gave her friend a sympathetic nuzzle.
“Don’t worry, I understand you,” Dinky said, silently scolding herself for being unable to come up with something more comforting to say. “Now come on, there’s another whole patch of flowers over there waiting to be opened.”
Honeydew smiled appreciatively at Dinky’s attempt to lift her spirits. The two fillies trotted down the slope and continued to practice their spell.
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The first week of the new term wore on, and Dinky never ceased to be amazed at the new surprises the Academy presented to her. She attended a variety of new classes, ranging from the study-based “Magic in History” to the much more applied “Basic Enchantments”. In what seemed like no time at all, it was already Friday morning; the first week of classes was almost over. And once again, the girls were discussing their plans over a hot breakfast.
“Dinky and I have ‘Transformation and Conjuring’ class together!” Clarity announced, pumping a forehoof in the air excitedly. “I hear that can be a really tough subject, but it also sounds like a lot of fun!”
“I don’t have a class this morning,” Honeydew chimed in, “but I’ve already volunteered to spend the morning helping Professor Chestnut catalogue all the flower species that are actively growing on the grounds this year.”
Clarity snickered. “I guess it’s no secret who Honeydew’s favorite professor is,” she remarked teasingly.
“Hey, you’ve seen what she can do,” Dinky said through a mouthful of cereal. “At least she’s doing something productive with her free period.”
Clarity nodded. “Yeah, I know. I’m really happy for you, Honeydew.”
She slid her chair away from the table. “Now, I guess we should all—”
Clarity was interrupted by a loud clattering of dishes and a chorus of rowdy laughter. The three fillies looked across the room and spotted the FrostFire Twins and Scuffle at the corner table, being rude and making a mess as usual as they devoured their breakfast.
“And then… and then Frosty used that spell that makes the whole room shake!” Scorch laughed, flinging bits of chewed food around. “And the chandelier came loose! The darn thing almost fell right on the professor! I was in stitches.”
Scuffle laughed. “You guys got detention for that stunt, right?” he asked.
“Well, duh,” said Frosty, rolling his eyes. “You’re not kickin’ off the new term right if you don’t get at least one detention in the first week.”
Frosty jabbed Scuffle in the back with a hoof. “What about you, kiddo? Did ya manage to stir up any trouble?”
Scuffle shrugged. “Not yet,” he admitted. “Managed to give a couple of fillies a good scare, though. Cowards.”
He patted his saddlebag. “I swiped a book from one of them, too. She was pretty upset about it.”
“A book?” Scorch asked, raising an eyebrow. “Jeez, Scuffle, next time steal something useful, would ya?”
He playfully clonked Scuffle on the back of the head with a hoof and he and Frost laughed.
Dinky scowled as she watched Scuffle and his brothers carrying on. Honeydew placed a hoof on her friend’s shoulder.
“They’re not worth getting worked up over,” she said softly.
“Yes they are,” Dinky growled, tossing her mane and snorting angrily. “Scuffle still has my book. I need to stop stalling and figure out a way to make him give it back.”
“Could you just take it back while he isn’t looking?” Clarity asked.
“And how would I manage that?” Dinky asked.
“Well, he can’t have his saddlebag on all the time,” Honeydew pointed out. “You could just keep an eye on him and wait for him to set it down, then sneak over and take it back when he’s not looking.”
The pink filly scrunched up her nose. “He probably wouldn’t even notice it’s gone. He doesn’t look like the studious type.”
Dinky watched, but to her dismay, Scuffle soon finished his meal and left the hall with his brothers, taking the saddlebag containing her prized book with him.
“Eh, we’ll get him later,” Clarity said dismissively. “Come on, you and I have to get to class.”
Dinky and Clarity waved goodbye to Honeydew and set off down one of the castle corridors.
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The classroom this time was located in one of the castle towers. The girls arrived on the landing at the top of a spiral staircase, and trotted into a large, square room. Much like the Practical Magic classroom, a portion of the floor space was left purposely empty to provide a practice arena for the students.
Dinky was relieved to see that all the colts and fillies were first-term students; many of them were also in her Practical Magic class, actually. That indicated that this was probably going to be a basic class, focusing on the fundamentals of what Clarity had proclaimed was a difficult subject.
Standing at the desk was the professor, a strong, stern-looking stallion with a white coat and a short, navy blue mane. His Cutie Mark was strange; it consisted of three simple shapes: a red circle, a blue square, and a yellow triangle.
Behind the professor’s desk was a lone door. It was unmarked, and Dinky suspected the room behind it couldn’t possibly be very big, considering the tower’s dimensions.
“Attention, class,” the stallion at the front of the room boomed. “This is first-level Transformation and Conjuring. I’m Professor Flux, and I will be your instructor for this course.”
His voice dropped lower. “Or, well, one of them, anyway,” he muttered. “The Princess has seen fit to hire an additional instructor this term. He’ll be joining us shortly.”
He cleared his throat. “Anyway, as you might imagine, I’m not the type who fools around. We’re going to get right down to business. Can anyone here define ‘transformation’ for me?”
A colt in the front corner raised his hoof. “Transformation involves using magic to alter an object’s physical structure,” he said.
“Absolutely correct,” Professor Flux replied loudly. “Make sure you don’t confuse that with an illusion spell! Illusions simply trick the eye to make something appear altered, while transformations actually modify the target. For this reason, a true transformation requires a great deal more magic than an illusion does, so don’t expect to go changing yourselves into anything in this class. The amount of magic required to turn a pony into something else is so astronomically high that only a few ponies in all of Equestria are even capable of pulling it off.”
“That’s very true, Professor!” came another voice. “However, there are a few exceptions to the rule…”
The ponies in the class looked around the room, confused. Professor Flux rolled his eyes. “Ah, time already, is it?” he asked. “Students, I’d like you to meet my assistant.”
The door behind the teacher’s desk opened, and another pony strode confidently out. The class was caught off-guard when they realized that the newcomer looked exactly like Professor Flux.
Dinky leaned toward Clarity. “Is that really a pony who has transformed himself into the professor?” she whispered.
“I… I think so,” Clarity replied, awed. “I’m pretty sure I’d be able to tell if it was just an illusion.”
“Hi, students!” said the newcomer cheerfully. “My name’s Professor Flux! Nice to meet you!”
The pony was identical to the original professor physically, but in contrast to the one who had been present at the start of class, he seemed a bit more welcoming.
“Oh, come off it,” the grumpier professor said, glaring at his double. “I still don’t understand why you had to hide in the supply closet for your ‘dramatic’ entrance. At least introduce yourself properly before you go around flaunting your skills.”
The professor that had emerged from the closet swished his tail playfully. “You sure about that?” he asked. “These are the first years; maybe we should warn ‘em first?”
The more serious professor narrowed his eyes at the doppelganger. “If I told you to do that, you’d just go ahead and ignore me anyway to get a cheap laugh, wouldn’t you?”
His counterpart giggled gleefully. “Aw, you know me too well! Guess I’ll just drop the disguise, then!”
The students expected the faux professor’s horn to light up, but instead, he grinned gleefully as a ring of green fire erupted from the floor around him. The flash of flames lasted only a second, but the pony within it was replaced with something very different: a roughly pony-sized creature with a black carapace, curved horn, and thin, lacy wings.
The actual professor had braced himself for the inevitable noise, but he still cringed as several of the fillies (and at least one or two of the colts) gave high-pitched screams of terror. Some jumped from their chairs and eyed the door, considering bolting. Dinky found herself unable to do much of anything except stare fearfully, having encountered a few creatures similar to this one firsthand during the Royal Wedding earlier that year.
“What’s the matter? You kids don’t like changelings?” the monster asked, flashing a fanged grin, which only caused more panic among the students.
“That’s quite enough!” Professor Flux said loudly, quieting the panicking students. “Our, erm… guest, shall we say, is supposed to be here. Now quietly sit back down and let me explain.”
He glared at the changeling. “And you too,” he commanded.
The changeling nodded and sank onto his haunches. He seemed largely uninterested in the whole situation, and busied himself just examining the ponies in class.
“Now, I’m quite aware that after the incident in Canterlot earlier this year, most of you are probably less than thrilled to see a changeling in your classroom,” the professor said, trying to sound reassuring. “In that respect, I’d be inclined to agree with you. However, Princess Celestia herself has called for this arrangement, and far be it from me to go against her judgment.”
He cast a glance at the changeling. “Now that you’ve shown yourself, why don’t you introduce yourself properly?” he huffed.
The changeling flashed his giddy grin again and paced to the front of the room, his dark hooves clicking disconcertingly on the floorboards.
“Hey there, kids!” he rasped, in a high, scratchy voice that was now very different from the professor’s. “The name’s Architecture Drone Eight Thirty-Three. But that’s a mouthful, so you guys can just call me Nester!”
He chuckled, but the class responded with blank stares. Dinky in particular was still too apprehensive to acknowledge what the changeling had to say.
“You know. Nester,” he said a bit less jovially. “Because I’m an architecture drone. I helped build and repair our nest. Get it?”
One or two brave students finally shook off the shock enough to give a weak chuckle. Nester shrugged.
“Anyway, during the whole invasion thingamajig, I was given one very specific assignment:” he continued, “hiding the real Princess Cadance away somewhere where nopony would ever find her, while our queen impersonated her. Problem was, she kinda got found, the queen got exposed a bit earlier than she would have liked, et cetera.”
His insectoid wings buzzed nervously for a moment. “Uh, it’s no secret that if I were to go back to the nest after a failure like that, I’d be basically ripped apart by the other drones. And the other option, trying to assume the life of a pony, isn’t as easy as it sounds, especially when the whole country’s on changeling high alert. So I decided to do the only thing I could think of: throw myself at Celestia’s hooves and beg for forgiveness.”
“And so Celestia saw fit to place him here, of all places,” Professor Flux grumbled, shaking his head. “Changelings are famous for their ability to effortlessly tap into transformation magic at a level far exceeding any normal pony. Their magic in all other fields is basic at best.”
Nester gave the professor an apologetic glance. “Well, she couldn’t very well put me anywhere else,” he said, buzzing his wings a few more times. “The Academy’s a secluded location where I’m surrounded by powerful unicorns to keep an eye on me at all times. And you know as well as I do that one changeling isn’t gonna be able to do much against a whole school full of magically adept ponies.”
He turned back to the class. “It’s a sweet deal, though! I get a place to live that’s safe from the other changelings, and a way to make myself useful. Just because we need to deceive other creatures to feast on their love doesn’t mean we can’t be friendly if given the opportunity.”
Dinky raised a questioning hoof. “But… don’t you still need to feed on love to survive?” she asked shakily. “Doesn’t that kind of make you a threat, even here?”
“Not if I feed on the whole school at once!” Nester announced. “Feeding on love tends to cause headaches, weakness, lowered immune response, and other effects in the victim, but if I take just a tiny bit from a whole school of ponies, the effect on individuals is negligible.”
His expression softened. “And of course, it’s a conscious choice to feed. If somepony is sick or otherwise compromised, of course I’m not going to feed off them. Considering my welcome here is fragile at best, it wouldn’t do me much good to be cruel, would it?”
He sat back down, put on the most harmless expression a changeling could manage, and motioned for Professor Flux to continue instead.
“Although I’m still skeptical,” the professor said slowly, “I have to admit that Nester has behaved quite well so far, and I can’t deny that he has useful insight into transformative spells. So we ask that you try to accept him as an assistant professor, and if he does do anything out-of-line, inform a professor or student overseer. Princess Celestia gives him a thorough audit every few days, and if any infractions are brought to light, they will be immediately investigated. If we do find anything is actually amiss, his position will be terminated.”
Flux sent Nester a warning glare, and the changeling’s spiky ears flattened against his head. Dinky was surprised to find that she actually felt sorry for the changeling. Considering how brutish the ones she’d encountered in Canterlot had been, she hadn’t expected to find one that seemed to understand the concept of kindness.
“I’ll be good, I swear!” Nester insisted, flinching a bit under Flux’s gaze.
“I hope so,” the professor replied. “Now, I think it’s about time we actually start teaching these foals a bit about transformation spells, don’t you think?”
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“A changeling, Honeydew! I tell you, this school will never cease to surprise me.”
The three friends trotted along next to the castle. It was a warm evening, and a lot of other ponies were milling about on the grounds, but Clarity paid them no heed as she continued spouting details about Transformation and Conjuring class, and Honeydew, as always, listened patiently.
“The best part is, he’s actually kind of interesting,” Dinky added. “After he introduced himself, the professor just lectured for the rest of the period, but Nester threw in a lot of insightful details.”
“And more than a few wisecracks,” Clarity interjected, giggling.
“I was in Canterlot during the Royal Wedding, so I’ve seen changelings up close,” Dinky admitted, “and before today, I never would have thought a changeling could be charming. I guess Princess Celestia was right to give Nester a chance, though.”
Honeydew shivered. “Well, I’m glad you girls were able to give him a chance,” she said. “I probably would have fainted straight away if a changeling had appeared in my classroom.”
She was about to say something else, but Dinky stopped walking suddenly, causing Clarity and Honeydew to crash into her.
“What’d you do that for?” Clarity asked, rubbing her nose and frowning.
“Look who it is,” Dinky said, pointing with a hoof.
At the bottom of the hill was Scuffle, and for once, his brothers were nowhere in sight. The brown colt was kicking a ball around with a few other colts, most of whom seemed content to allow Scuffle to dominate the game, for their own safety. The object that had caught Dinky’s interest, however, was Scuffle’s saddlebag, which was lying unattended at the base of a tree a few dozen pony-lengths away.
“This is your chance!” Clarity said. “Go grab your book, and you can be gone before he even has a chance to notice you!”
Dinky nodded. “You two wait here,” she instructed. “He’s more likely to see us if all three of us go down there.”
Clarity nodded and gave Honeydew a nudge, prompting the pink filly to follow her to a hiding spot behind a nearby shrub.
“Good luck,” Clarity mouthed. Honeydew shivered and nodded in agreement.
Dinky nodded and began to walk down the side of the hill, keeping in the shadow of the castle to be as inconspicuous as possible. All the while, she kept her eyes on Scuffle, but the colt seemed occupied with the kickball game.
It seemed to take forever, but soon Dinky was near the tree. She darted toward it and pressed herself against the bark, allowing the trunk to conceal her from Scuffle. She knew the saddlebag was just around the side of the tree. With a flash of magic, she dragged it a few inches along the grass, then a few inches more, until it worked its way around the trunk and came into view. Cautiously, the young unicorn bent down to poke around inside.
“Lookin’ for something?”
A brown hoof slammed down on the bag, preventing Dinky from opening the flap. The filly squealed in surprise and fell backwards onto her rump. She looked up into the face of Scuffle, who was glowering down at her.
“Nice try, I guess,” Scuffle said, nonchalantly scraping a bit of mud off one of his hooves. “I didn’t even know you were back here until I saw the bag crawling away. Pretty gutsy move. And here I thought you were just a little coward.”
“Just give me back my book,” said Dinky flatly, refusing to humor the colt.
Scuffle smirked. “Still whining over that, huh?” he asked. “Then why don’t you prove you’re tougher than you look and win it back from me?”
Dinky raised an eyebrow. “How?”
“Well, I haven’t had a chance to test out my magic against another foal yet,” Scuffle said. “If you really want that book, put your magic where your mouth is and duel me!”
Dinky opened her mouth to object, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to say it. She did know a few spells that might be useful in a battle, and Scuffle certainly didn’t seem to know the kind of dangerous combat magic his brothers did.
Dinky steeled herself. It was time to take action.
“Alright, Scuffle. You’re on.”
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“You agreed to what!?”
Clarity pressed her nose against Dinky’s, her expression dire. “Are you crazy?” the grey filly asked. “You don’t know any battle magic! Scuffle’s might not be that tough, but he probably knows more than enough to wallop you!”
“Relax!” Dinky insisted. “Sure, I don’t know any offensive spells… but I do know a few defensive ones.”
Clarity blinked and stepped back. “Oh, right, you told me about that on the day we met. You used some spells to keep that evil unicorn from attacking your mom and her friends, right?”
“Exactly,” Dinky responded confidently. “If I could hold her off, Scuffle should be a piece of cake.”
Clarity looked uncertain. “Well… maybe…”
“I still think this is a bad idea!” said Honeydew anxiously, stepping up next to Clarity. “Using combative spells without professor supervision is against the rules, isn’t it? What happens if you get hurt?”
“I’ll be ok,” Dinky assured her. It only served to make the meek unicorn more upset.
“But… but it’s not worth the risk, Dinky! It’s just a book; I know it was special to you, but fighting a mean unicorn like Scuffle just to get it back…”
“It’s not only about the book,” Dinky said. “It’s about standing up for ourselves. We can’t go to the teachers or overseers, because Scuffle’s brothers don’t care when they get in trouble; they go right on bullying everypony else, and Scuffle seems to be the same way. He’s going to keep harassing us unless I show him that I’m not a weakling so he’ll stay away!”
Honeydew bit her lip. “Well, fine, but I don’t want to be anywhere near this fight,” she insisted. “Scuffle… really scares me…”
“Just go back to the residence tower, Honeydew,” Clarity suggested. “I’ll stick around in case somepony gets hurt and I need to go for help.”
Honeydew flattened her ears. “Well… ok, but be careful, both of you!”
“We will,” Dinky insisted. “I’ll see you in a little while.”
“Yo!” came Scuffle’s voice from down the hill. “That’s long enough! Get down here if you’re gonna face me!”
Dinky exchanged a final glance with Clarity, and then turned and trotted down the hill toward her opponent.
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Scuffle had drawn a wide ring in the dirt, and he and Dinky stood at opposite ends, facing one another.
“Play by your own rules, Scuffle,” Dinky warned. “No physical fighting. We’re only using magic.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Scuffle waved a dismissive hoof. “You ready?”
Dinky swallowed hard, but she did her best not to appear intimidated. She nodded.
“Ok, go!”
Scuffle lit his horn, and for a few moments nothing happened. The colt squinted in concentration, and a few sparks began to fly from the tip.
“Now, how did Scorch say to do this?” he mumbled in frustration.
Finally, he seemed to focus the spell in the way he had intended, but only produced a piddly little fireball. It was tiny, and the flames didn’t look particularly hot or fierce, but Scuffle seemed satisfied.
Dinky had come prepared, though. She tried to call the same sense of urgency back to her mind that she had been feeling months ago when Cosmic Glow had threatened her mother. It had been a while, but the spell she was trying to cast came rushing back to her easily despite that.
Dinky threw her head back as a golden shockwave radiated from her horn, catching Scuffle completely off guard. He flinched as it passed over him, but was relieved when he realized the attack was painless. The fireball on his horn fizzled out, however.
“What was that?” he asked, annoyed. “A little light show to break my concentration? All that’s gonna do is buy you some time, you know.”
The colt prepared another fireball, and Dinky responded with the same spell. Scuffle faced it bravely this time, but as it washed over him, his magical attack once again disappeared.
“What gives?” he asked. “I didn’t fall for the fake out that time! Why’d the fire go out?”
Dinky grinned. “What’s wrong, Scuffle?” she taunted. “Haven’t you ever seen a magic cancelling spell before?”
Scuffle frowned, and instead tried to produce an energy beam. The laser-like attack was pointed towards Dinky, but the filly moved quickly out of the way and cancelled the spell with the same means.
Scuffle swore under his breath. “Alright, I guess I wasn’t expecting a defense like that,” he admitted. “So if I can’t get you with a direct attack, let’s see how you handle a little trap of my own!”
Scuffle’s horn flared, but no visible attack became apparent this time. The colt’s face twisted into a smirk.
“Let’s see if you can still stand if I increase your force of gravity a little bit!” he announced.
“Ha ha, gravity manipulation?” Dinky laughed. “Please, if you can barely conjure a fireball, why would you be able to—”
All four of Dinky’s legs gave out at once, and she winced as her ribs crashed down against the dirt. She had to struggle just to keep her head raised a few inches. Memories of Twilight mentioning how complex gravity spells could be flashed through her mind, but she dismissed them. Now wasn’t the time to worry about how Scuffle was managing it; it was time to focus on countering it.
Dinky recalled the other spell she had used against Cosmic Glow, a convenient defense that had kept her opponent from being able to advance. Struggling against the pressure of Scuffle’s spell, she lit her horn and cast it at him.
Scuffle looked surprised for a moment when he realized he was unable to take a step. “The cement hooves spell? Really?” he asked. “Kinda basic, but not a bad move in your situation.”
The duel was beginning to feel a lot like a repeat of Dinky’s duel with Glow; both unicorns were essentially held in place by the other, struggling to break through one-another’s spells. Now and then, Dinky would drop her enchantment long enough to try to cancel Scuffle’s gravity manipulation, but only succeeded in weakening him for long enough to struggle to her hooves before the pressure returned in full and forced her back to the ground.
There’s got to be something else I can try, Dinky thought frantically. Otherwise, this will just go on forever!
“That’s quite enough, both of you!”
A brilliant violet shockwave washed across the dueling ring. It passed over Scuffle first, and Dinky felt the effects of his spell shatter completely, leaving her feeling exceptionally light for a few moments as her body adjusted to the normalized gravity. Then the wave reached her as well.
Dinky had never been on the receiving end of a magic cancelling spell before. As soon as the wave touched her, it felt rather like somepony had let the entire Canterlot Philharmonic Orchestra into her skull, and given each of its members a different sheet of music. The discordant clamor caused her to stagger and completely obliterated her concentration, but as soon as her spell broke, the noise in her head silenced.
Within a few seconds, Dinky and Scuffle recovered and were able to face the pony who had ended their duel. Dinky groaned softly when she found herself looking into the angry eyes of Overseer Sparkler.
“You two are in big trouble,” Sparkler said. “It’s the first week of classes! You first-term foals hardly even know each other yet! What reason could you possibly have for breaking school rules to have an unauthorized duel?”
Neither of the foals replied. Sparkler shook her head.
“Whatever. This is no minor infraction,” she continued. “I’m taking both of you to the dean’s office; she can deal with this how she pleases.”
Sparkler instructed them to follow and began to make her way back into the castle. Dinky caught sight of Clarity watching from the shadows; the grey filly looked concerned, but she motioned for Dinky to listen to the overseer.
Scuffle grabbed his bag, and silently, the two foals followed Sparkler into the building.
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Dinky and Scuffle sat alone on two plain chairs in the antechamber before the dean’s office. Sparkler had gone ahead, leaving them to wait while she gave the dean an incident report.
Scuffle didn’t seem too concerned. He swung his hind hooves idly as he waited for the dean to appear and punish him. Dinky just faced the wall, ignoring Scuffle and stewing in her own anger and fear of what was to come.
“Hey.”
Dinky ignored the colt and focused on the garish paisley on the wallpaper.
“Hey, you. Look at me.”
Dinky sighed and turned around. “What?” she asked crossly.
“Um… what is your name?” Scuffle asked abruptly. “I don’t think you ever told me.”
“Dinky Doo,” said Dinky levelly.
“Ah,” Scuffle replied simply. “Well Dinky… you surprised me. I wasn’t expecting you to actually fight.”
Dinky didn’t dignify his comment with a response. Scuffle frowned. Then he did something unexpected; slate-blue light surrounded his horn, and a familiar book emerged from his saddlebag. He tossed it unceremoniously at Dinky, who barely managed to catch it with her own magic before it hit the floor.
The filly raised an eyebrow, and carefully inspected the book. It was, in fact, her magic guide, and it appeared no worse-for-wear than when Scuffle had swiped it a few days before.
Dinky found herself completely unable to decide what the appropriate response was. She simply mumbled, “Thanks.”
Scuffle fidgeted. “The spells in there are baby stuff anyway,” he insisted. “You can keep the stupid thing; I’m way too good to get any use out of that garbage.”
The awkward silence resumed, but thankfully, it was broken a moment later when Sparkler and the dean entered the room.
“You may go, Sparkler,” Bright Spark said. “I’ll distribute the punishments to our troublemakers here.”
Sparkler nodded. “Thank you, ma’am,” she said as she excused herself from the room.
Bright Spark asked Scuffle to enter her office first, and then sat down behind her desk, meticulously adjusting her spectacles. Her horn lit up and the door closed, leaving Dinky alone in the antechamber.
It was impossible to hear precisely what was going on in the dean's office, but Dinky heard a few muffled words about Scuffle's brothers, and "just another troublemaker."
Scuffle emerged from the office a few moments later. He didn't pay Dinky so much as a glance as he trotted from the room.
"Your turn, miss," the dean called, motioning for Dinky to enter. The filly trotted nervously inside and took her seat.
The dean opened Dinky's file. “So...” she started, glancing at the filly, “you're miss Dinky Doo. You're a first-term student, and with no family members who have attended in the past. It’s rare to see a filly like you getting into trouble so early, but that’s your decision, I suppose.”
Bright Spark’s expression was cold. “Now, Dinky, you were an interesting case, if I remember correctly. Your application was rejected, but Princess Celestia overturned it, against my recommendation.”
“She found me a tutor,” Dinky said. “I know all the magic I need to, really!”
The dean’s face remained dour. "All the magic you need to get yourself in trouble, apparently," she said. “I'm aware of your situation, but unlike Celestia, I’m not so easy to convince that a filly can learn all the magic she needs to succeed in the span of a season or so. The Princess claims you’re proficient, but I suspect you’re only here on a special favor.”
She reclined in her chair. “I suppose I'm getting off topic, though," she admitted. "The reason I brought this up is because I want you to understand that both you and Scuffle started this term with a bit of a stigma against you, albeit for very different reasons, and because of this little dueling incident, neither of you have left a very good first impression. I would have been more careful about that if I were you two. I’ll be keeping an eye on both of you in the future.”
Bright Spark’s horn lit up. She lifted a quill and scribbled something in Dinky's file.
“Alright then," she said curtly. "You will serve detention tomorrow morning at six. Lateness or failure to attend will result in further punishment. Am I clear?”
Dinky nodded.
“Good,” the dean said curtly. “Now, it’s getting late. Get back to the residence towers, and don’t let me hear about you causing more trouble, or I won’t be so lenient next time.”
The dean swiveled in her chair, and waved a dismissive hoof at Dinky.
“Go on, get out of here.”
Dinky stared at the back of the dean’s chair, but the mare said nothing more. The filly waited a moment more, then quietly slid from her seat and quickly made her way out of the room.