//------------------------------//
// Arc One: Welcomings - Level Down 
// Story: Of a Certain Adventurous Pony 
// by RavensDagger 
//------------------------------//

	A bitter wind blew past me, roughing up my already unkempt mane before passing on to dance with the rejoicing colts and fillies behind me. Paper caught in the wind, crackling and snapping playfully, as they traded the results of their tests with one another. 

I looked at my own, unfolding the bent page with hooves that just wouldn’t stop shivering like the disobedient jerks that they were. The page stared back, scribbled with fine-printed jargon that was supposed to be vaguely optimistic, while helpfully explaining how the process worked. Not that they hadn't already explained it ten times over the last three weeks.

Above it, right beside my name, was a big fat twelve. Well, that’s what I wanted there to be. Instead, I stood on the edge of the testing building’s courtyard, my back hunched over and shoulders drooped, staring at the vaguely straight shape of the number one.

I hate to repeat myself, but, well, shit.

Eventually I looked up, the form of the page burned on my retinas thanks to the sun’s wonderful glare—thanks again, Celly! Through the vaguely purple-ish distortion of my vision, I saw Academy City once more. 

Like gigantic spires, the towers of the city jutted out of the ground, twelve in all, all of them placed in a perfect circle around a stubby, fat building that was the headquarters of our grandiose principle. Groups of pegasi in the uniforms of various schools flew around, their tiny, distant shapes reminiscent of crows after carrion.

Further from there, and bathed in the neon glow that the ponies here so seemed to love, were the market districts, twelve in all, arranged like a many-studded jewel fitted around the city: the ring of mercantile endeavors separating the towers from the outlying schools and dormitories.

Whoever said a dumbass couldn’t wax poetic? 

“Hey, Wedgie!” came a piercing, feminine wail that assaulted my ears a millisecond before I was tackled from behind.

My legs sprawled out in every direction, and for the briefest of moments, I thought I might actually recuperate from the fall and not look like a complete idiot. Then my face met the rough flagstone roadway with a tender, romantic embrace that felt like it had torn off my cheek. Because why not? My day was already knee-deep in Craplandia.

As I lay there, aware that much more attention was on me than I really needed, I began to have thoughts of home. What? Can you really blame me? Here I am, all happy to be part of one of the greatest palaces ever, hopes all uber high, when my hopes and dreams get beaten, tucked into an alley, and the next day my hope’s kidneys are up on the black market and the insurance company’s whining that they don’t cover random muggings.

Honestly, though, I’m not one for giving up after a single blow or two—although I might quit after three. So, laying there, staring at the city towering above me like an unbreachable fortress, I decided that I was going to find a little niche for myself. A corner of hell where I could nestle up and roast marshmallows, while listening to the deathly wails of those surrounding me. Or something like that. 

“Wedgie, you inebriated fool! You owe me lunch!” the feminine voice declared, a clear tone of moral high-ground and social superiority resonating with every word. They were probably deserved, too.

“Hurry, get up,” she said, before delivering a swift kick to my shin.

The tall, blond-maned and blue eyed beauty standing above me went by the name Black Ruby. She’s pretty, like, as in, drop-dead gorgeous. To go with that she has high grades, comes from what seems to be a family with connections, and acts like she knows it all, which really bites when you find out that she does, in fact, know it all.

Not to go off on a tangent, but on the first day of school, she walked up to me all smiles—and with a face like hers, I was smiling in return—and ordered me to buy her various things. Notably, lunch. No, I don’t know why she’s such an insufferable pain in the flank. I’d go as far as calling her a tsundere, but they’re usually nice at some point. After her demands were met with confusion and some drooling, she kicked me. Hence started day one of hell.

“Leave me alone, will you?” I asked as I pushed myself up and tried to brush the dust off my trousers. It did little to wipe off my blush.

She huffed, those perfect cheeks of hers puffing out as she crossed her hooves and shifted her weight to one side. “Fine. But you owe me, and I always get paid, be it today, or yesterday. Good-bye for now, Wedgie.” With a pout all too common of high-class snotty brats, she spun on the tip of her hoof and left, glaring at the ground with those freakishly blue eyes of hers. 

I stared at her leaving back for a bit. (And perhaps my eyes trailed a little lower.) Ponies took a wide berth around her, and almost unconsciously they turned away as she trotted by. But she would make friends eventually, probably form a posse or join one. Ponies like her tend to come in pairs. 

Some giggling caught my attention and dragged my gaze from the fading form of Black Ruby to those of a few female students. The sheet with all my test results, it turned out, was held in the grasp of those few fellow students downwind of me, who were alternating between looking at the lonely ‘one’ and glancing at me with disguised smiles. I stared at my empty hooves as if they were the ones to take the blame for dropping the sheet in the first place. 

Welp, crap. To sum up that afternoon I’ll draw three conclusions:

First, I suck so hard that pony society and the school decided to make it official. 

Secondly, some random rich pain in the flank was trying to extort ‘lunch’ from me as payment for something. As to what? No frickin’ clue. 

And thirdly, the entire campus (minus the few that knew already,) was about to find out that I suck. But then, I’m not the only failure on this campus. 

I walked away with slumped shoulders, ignoring the persistent laughter that emanated from those girls as they discussed their ranks of three and four and even a rare five. Brilliant. 

Academy City, being such an awesome place, has some pretty sweet commodities, some of which are even available to first grade students like me. One of those amenities includes free access to the train services. Not those old pieces of crap pulled around by a few stallions that are far, far too burly. But an actual electric train that goes really, really fast. Gotta say, I’m a fan.

I messed around in my rucksack with my measly magical abilities and managed to yank out my student ID card without breaking a sweat. The front entrance of the train station, a pavilion with a sleepy guard and a few cleaning robots wheeling around the three ramps that led into the train itself, was basically a dull construct of white and grey with far too many lights. 

After swiping the card and walking to the edge of the platform, I found myself glaring at the rails while I waited for the next train to arrive. A few students flocked in behind me, but for some odd reason, chose not to talk to me; whether it was the glare or the fact that my legs were braced and my chest was puffed out defiantly that held them off, I don’t know. Not complaining though. 

With a magical hum the train slid into place. It was a machine of metal and might that had the interesting ability to stop on a dime from speeds nearing mach one. So, there are some redeeming qualities to the city, I reasoned, just before a blast of cold wind roared through the terminal and almost threw me to the ground. Girls screeched or giggled as their school uniforms were tossed in the air, much to the pleasure of a few ogling idiots. 

Who, in his right mind, decided that short skirts were a good idea? I mean, normally, we’d be naked, but for some astounding reason, wearing clothing and peeking at what’s underneath is considered way, way hotter than just normal nakedness. My mind was humming along, thinking of such matters as I climbed into the train and trotted through the filled cabin.

Hooves on steel-flooring filled the air with an odd sort of drumming while the murmur of the crowd and the high-notes of laughter filled in the rest of the chorus. If somepony started singing, I was out with the next exit. 

The train began accelerating, just as I found myself a seat near one of the wide windows that consumed the walls. From there, I could see the world beyond. We blew past tiny patches of forests or manicured gardens where homes and tiny towns had taken shape. They were all connected to one another by trains such as the one I was in, or old-fashioned highways, covered in the shiny, scurrying shapes of automobiles.

Everything became a blur, a scratched surface of moving lines of every colour, as my brain jammed and failed to make sense of any of it. The image then returned to normal, albeit a very rapidly moving normal. Going from zero to mach one in a tenth of a second is rather jarring, but it’s the best way to get by that initial g-force. Takes a lot of magical dampening. Why? Because being pressed into you bench at over three hundred Earth gravities is a lot more than you or I could ever handle, that's why. Once you’re going at a constant speed, though, you no longer feel the motion. You should know this. That is, if you paid any attention while you were in high school.

We slowed down just as fast, and the tiny light above the doorway dinged. “Welcome to District L. Watch your step upon exiting and have a pleasant day!” an automated voice advised, as we departed.

It’s sorta disorienting, at least the first few times, to be in one place one second, then to be halfway across the city the next. I almost pity ponies that can teleport. Almost.

This station was similar to the last, with the same futuristic arcs and odd curves made of thick concrete and plastics, mixed with the same odour of warm rubber and too many sweaty ponies. Nasty. My trip out to the slightly fresher air of the city was a mix of sudden bursts of speed and jostling for an inch, as the crowd funneled out of a tiny entrance and onto the roadway. 

From the corner of my eye, I could see the buildings all around us tower up, as if the designers had decided that Equestria was not big enough for building horizontally. Cars zipped by, machines of metal and plastic led about by the automated system ruling the city. Nopony passed on a red light and pedestrians were rarely run over. Accidents do happen. 

I split from the main group, away from the city centre and all the funsies shops found there, to head towards the outer end of the wedge I was in. The roads were a tad quieter as they led away from the busier parts of Academy City. 

Shops weren’t too frequent here, and most of the buildings were apartments or dormitories, the ones closer to the centre being the pricier ones. Guess where I lived?

As I pushed on, I caught sight of a familiar alley stuck between two homes and slid into it, eyeing the path ahead through my too-long bangs. (Haircuts cost bits.) It was darker here, but still warm enough despite the chilly fall weather. Not having any air circulation helped that, although it did little to help the smell.

At the alley’s end, I took a left and entered a wider space, one that reconnected with the road leading to my dormitory. I’d be home in a minute.

Well, I would have gotten home in a minute, were it not for what I happened to run into while in said alley.

Three stallions were standing beneath a rattling pipe, its shadows cloaking them in a near-total darkness. I could still see the white of their uniforms starkly contrasted with the shadows as they moved about, standing tall and proud, yet remaining uncomfortably hunched enough to hide their deeds. Suspicious doesn’t begin to cover it. 

A fourth pony was with them; a grey mare who would have gone unnoticed were it not for her shockingly pink mane and tail. She sat there, smiling quietly at the three stallions as they tried their best to look fierce and tough, ending up only managing to look like douchebags. As I cautiously approached, I noted that their collars were popped. Seriously.

“Hey, lady, where’re ya headin’ off ta tonight?” the biggest of them asked. He was a burly earth pony stallion whose chest practically poured out of his shirt, the top three buttons of which were undone. “‘Cause my friends here, and me too, we’d like ta get ta know you better, ya get?” He winked; I almost puked.

“Now, look here. What’s the point of all this? You bunch are trying to have fun, and I understand that,” the mare said, her soft voice punctuated by her hoof striking the ground, “but think about it. You’re only young once, school doesn’t last forever, and soon you’ll be weighed down by responsibilities, and life will berate you at every turn. Do you really want to make it hard on yourselves by bullying random mares in dark alleys?”

The leader blinked at her, gurgling something that sounded an awful lot like, “Euhhh....”

“This city doesn’t care about you, or your friends, or anypony else for that matter. And that may justify rudeness and cruelty in your eyes. But this freedom we have, maybe we could use it to be nice instead?”

The leader took a long step towards her, driving her back with his massive chest. “Look, we’re just after some tail, hon.”

Now, at this point, I would like to point out that I agree with the mare. This city doesn’t give a damn about me. I’m a level one, as it turns out. I’m less than useless. Dead weight to be tossed away once schooling is over. Heck, the chances that a level one graduates are probably not in my favour. Would anypony care if I up and disappeared for a day, a month, a year? No, probably not. Time will move on. Ponies will grow up and die, and the few memories of me will fade away, unnoticed by history or the cares of any. I’m no Twilight Sparkle or Element of Harmony. I’m no great inventor or thinker. 

So what’s the point of trying hard if nothing matters in the end? The mare was right. I should continue with my life, but not overextend myself, not take useless risks. Doing so is just plain stupid.

So, contrary to my very logical train of thought, I trotted up to the bullies, screamed, “Hey!” at the top of my lungs, and slugged that douchebag in the face.

Well, shit, she’s right. If our life’s worthless, might as well spend it being helpful, right?

The girl stared at me with the weirdest of looks. It was somewhere between admiration and that look you give to someone just after they’ve gone and done something really stupid. 

The funny thing about bucking somepony across the face is that they tend to react in a few different ways:

Some will kneel down and wallow in pain.

Others will back away and try to reason with you.

The rest will buck back.

Well, shit.