I won’t go into all the details about what happened that night after Black Ruby and I teleported. It’s rather dull, really. We said our awkward goodbyes, she reminded me of my promise (after seeing her kick flank, I was not inclined to take it back), then she named off a few of her favourite restaurants as she trotted away.
I followed from afar but veered off the moment I found a familiar street that got me home before curfew. Sergeant Howitzer was pissed, apparently, that quite a few of the ponies from our district had gone off to that gathering of dubious legality.
Anywho, my day ended on a dull, but welcoming, note. I said goodnight to Crosshatch, hit the hay (figure of speech; we use beds now. Less lice), and slept.
The next morning I faced a mixed bag of crap.
While heading to school, I tripped and tumbled into a puddle. The homework that I had hastily done the day before was not for the right day. (Least I didn’t have work to do tonight, right?) I ran into those bullies in the hall. They growled at me, spat in my face and then trotted away, saying something to the effect that if they ever saw me outside without that mare again they’d beat me to a pulp. And, to add the worst bit of news to it all, today was a very special day.
Why is it that everytime there’s a special event I’m the very last one to be informed?
Today, of all days (A Friday) was the day that two things were going to happen in our little school. One: we were going to get the visit of somepony very important in class. And two: today was the day that we had to join our first clubs.
The events were staggered, sorta.
I was sitting in class, listening with a deaf ear as Miss Bearskin prattled on about how, because of our low levels, we only had to join two clubs instead of three (Read: we were not allowed to join more than two) and that some clubs might be hard for us. (Read: we were not allowed to join them at all for whatever reason) It was towards the end of her obviously rehearsed speech that the guest arrived.
I was staring at my desk’s screen, idly tapping in a few searches on the school’s database of magical abilities that I could never accomplish when she trotted in. Behind her were four burly guards, like those I had seen the night before.
Two stationed themselves outside of class while the remaining two placed themselves on either side of the blackboard. It was the awed silence that really made me tear my attention away from the screen. That, and the pony’s announcement of who she was.
“Hi, I’m Twilight Sparkle.”
My classmates gasped, as if her announcing her own name confirmed the presence of the celebrity. What? How many other purple alicorns wearing power-suits* and a bloody crown prowl the corridors of the school in the city that Twilight Sparkle built?
Exactly.
“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you all,” she said, giving us a warm yet timid smile as a pinch of red touched her cheeks.
If I were a cynic, I’d say that she practiced that look in front of a mirror. Oh, who am I kidding! Horn-and-wings here probably spent hours perfecting that smile.
“I’m hoping that all of you are enjoying your time in our school and I wish that you all will learn a lot, and, most importantly, make a lot of new friends.” Her big purple eyes locked onto me, and suddenly my friendless situation seemed rather... important. “I’m here today to announce something really special. This year, for the first time, we will have extra-curricular clubs. Every student must join three cl"—she stopped mid-sentence, coughed into her hoof and corrected herself—“two clubs from a panoply of choices. And your activities within these clubs will count towards your overall grades!”
Twilight nodded almost as if to herself. “Now, these clubs are very important, as every one of them teaches you skills that you might find useful when you grow older, and they might even help you obtain work in certain fields. A-are there any questions?” she asked quite suddenly. “I only have time for a few before I have to move on. There are a lot of students in this school!”
One of the airhead sisters behind me raised her hoof and Twilight nodded at her. “Um, Your Majesty, Miss Sparkle,” she began before Twilight giggled into her hoof and interrupted her.
“Please, call me Twilight, or, if you insist Principle or Miss Sparkle.”
More oohs and ahhs. “So, um, Miss Sparkle, are you part of any clubs?”
What a stupid question.
“Why, yes, I am!”
Nevermind.
Twilight touched the epaulet on her suit in which the school’s crest was marked. Beneath that were three smaller emblems that she pointed to in turn. “This one’s the club exclusively made for the Elements of Harmony. This one’s the Princesshood Club, and this one"—she pointed to the last—"is the Bibliophile club! One of my favourites!”
Another pony raised his hoof. “Miss, is it possible to increase your level?”
Finally! An intelligent question from the class of doorknobs. (Myself not included, obviously.) My ears perked, and my attention was entirely given to staring at the princess's eyes.
“Of course it’s possible. In fact, I expect most every student will increase of a level or maybe two before they’re done with high school! You simply need to study how the level system works to see that. Are there any more questions?”
We squirmed in our seats and bit our lips, not thinking of anything exceptionally intelligent to ask.
“Perfect! Then I might actually be running a little bit ahead of schedule. After class—which will end early today—you will be invited to browse the school’s fine selection of clubs. Oh, and your homeroom teacher will hand out leaflets with a few details on each club. There’re many to choose from, but I suggest that you pick rapidly as some will fill up early.”
She nodded to us, smiled again, then turned and trotted away, breathing a sigh of relief as she exited the classroom. The rest of the students sighed too, as if a strong, oppressive pressure had just been removed from over us.
Right, so school clubs. A novel idea. And one that I can kinda agree with, or would, were I not at the bottom of the pyramid. Actually, it’s not a pyramid, more like a right-angle triangle with the hypotenuse running along the edge of the X-axis and the widest angle hovering over the mark of three. (Assuming that you mark the X-Axis from one to 12 based on the amount of levels and the Y-axis represents total student population) Basically, there are more level twos and threes than there are level ones.
Being at the bottom probably meant that even if we were great in school, our chances to level up were slim to none. But there was a chance, right? And that’s all ponies need to try hard.
When the bell rang I was the first out of class, one of the booklets given to us by the teacher hovering at my side. (I managed to levitate something! Woo!) The crowds of school-ponies walking around drew my attention, or, rather, instead of ignoring them as I’m apt to do, I paid a bit more attention to their breasts right below the school emblem.
A few of them already had little logos printed there. Bows for the Archery club, a rook for the Chess club, an open book for the Writer’s group. It was easy to see how being part of one group might change your position on the social hierarchy in this fine establishment. So, like any reasonable pony I found a place to stop and rest while perusing the list.
It was rather depressing.
More than half the clubs, easily, had level requirements. Most of which were reasonable. The accounting club (Now, who in Celestia’s name would join that?!) had a limit of level three and up. The advanced computing’s club four and up.
All the good clubs were limited.
It made sense. Why spend good bits on students whose future was dubious when you could drop them on sure-fire ponies that had good odds to succeed. It was logical.
And it sucked.
I tossed the booklet aside, managing to chuck it into a trashcan before I moved on. Well, there was nothing I could do about it, and maybe I could make a few friends by joining a popular club? Then again, the only clubs I could join seemed to be things like the quilting club and the gardening club. You won’t catch me dead in that place, nope.
I was pacing the halls, avoiding the constant surges of traffic brought on by wide-eyed ponies searching for their own clubs to join, when I caught sight of a pink-maned mare dead ahead, her back turned to me.
For the first time that day I smiled, although it was mostly involuntary. Have you been keeping count of how many times I’ve ‘run into’ one of these crazy mares over the past few days? Well, nor have I, but it’s a lot. Now it was my turn to engage.
I crept up to her, trying to soften the taps of my hoof on the marble flooring as I came closer and closer to the mare. Rearing up, I stood on my hind legs and slowly placed a hoof on either side of her pink mane. “Boo!”
She whipped around, the purple scarf around her neck arcing though the air while the mare gave me a wide eyed look of surprise and jammed the elbow of her forelimb in my gut.
I had some time to regret my stupidity as I writhed on the floor, the sudden focus of far too much attention from the school ponies around me. Happy End leaned over me, blinking those big red eyes of hers as she came closer. “Tight Wedge? What in the name of Celestia were you trying to accomplish?”
“Um, scare you, I think?” In hindsight, I’m pretty damn stupid.
“That was stupid,” she said. (See, told ya.) “I could have killed you by accident. Then, the rest of my life would be spent in regret and remorse. Although, in the long run, I don’t think you’re going to be that important.... Then again, maybe you’re the one that’s going to find the cure to some elusive disease, birth somepony important or, better yet, find a solution to Entropy.”
I nodded and got up, pressing a hoof against my sore stomach. “Uh-huh, sure. So, uh, what were you up to, besides hitting every numbskull that makes his way through these corridors?”
She gave me that lop-sided smile of hers. “Well, I was going to check out this one club. Been looking forwards to joining it since I found out it existed. Want to come along? We have all afternoon. And I think your home room's not too too far from my own. So you could rush back, if you want.”
Spend the afternoon looking around alone, or spend it with the adorable girl who spouts weird stuff all day but is also cute? Tough decision. “Sure, I’ll tag along. As long as it’s not some sort of pony psychology or ‘let’s talk about the end of Equestria and be gothic together’ group.” Hey, she might be crazy, but it gave me something to do.
She stifled a giggle. “No, nothing like that. Come on,” she said as she grabbed at the hem of my shirt and yanked me forwards. “It’s just this way, near the outer courtyard.”
I followed half a step behind her, my levels of self-consciousness reaching a new high as I reminded myself to act natural, (Terrible advice) that I had, in fact, brushed my teeth and coat that day and that I was just her friend—until I could do something about that. “So, uh, is it a popular club?” I asked, starting to play the guessing game.
“No, not really. Actually, I think we might be the only two to join this one. It’s not really popular with this kind of crowd.”
“Uh, what’s the supposed to mean?”
She glanced over to me. “Two things, depending on how you look at it. The ponies here are mostly from one big city or another and won’t really care about this club’s activities. And second, it means that I’ll be all alone, in a little club room, taking care of my things.... Unless you join, in which case it will be the two of us alone in there.”
I made a mental note to have a hearing exam, and maybe a mental one. “W-what sort of room?”
“One that’s really hot, and very, very humid,” she said before facing me and winking.
It’s safe to say that most, if not all, hot-blooded young stallions have dreamy thoughts and ideas that come to mind that, if we were to write them, would sound a lot like this. Of note is the fact that I’m a hot-blooded young stallion. Sweat began to pour out of my hairline and I suddenly had the urge to giggle.
“Oh, and it might get dirty in there,” she added as if in afterthought.
I froze on the spot, an arc of spittle escaping me just before my mind snapped. “I the you what where?” I said.
Happy End bit down on her hoof, cheeks puffing out as her face reddened. “You’re so gullible!” she said between snickers. “We’re going to the gardening club, you dirty minded little colt. The only hot and humid you’re going to get is from watering.”
Disappointment has a name, and it is Happy End.
She began trotting ahead of me, purple skirt bouncing with every step as she swayed her fluffy pink tail from side to side. And I followed.
The gardening club was not my cup of tea, not by a long shot. I mean, it’s clearly a club for dweebs, low-lifes and ponies with no friends who had no interest in gaining any more. But Happy End didn't seem to fit into any of those categories and, hopefully, neither did I. So, there was only one possibility left: Happy was into gardening and was genuinely interested in it. And she wanted to share her passion with me.
Which, if you’ll allow my convoluted thinking to continue (And you’ve no choice in the matter) means that at some level she likes me. Maybe all those rather... saucy things were just jokes, but only on the surface.
I swallowed hard and shook my head, banishing the thoughts. I was saving them for later.
“We’re almost there,” she said, pointing with her muzzle to one of the corridors ahead.
Might I take this time to point out that the team of architects that Twilight hired to build this place were brilliant? Not only are the corridors pristine and have this sense of scale and tradition to them, with marble pillars and decorative fringes around doorways, but they also have hints at a higher technology. The floors were spotless, in no part thanks to the little cleaning golems that whisked out of quasi-invisible traps to scoop up any litter, and cameras the size of beads twinkled as they followed our movements. (Which is a tad creepy)
But what they truly excelled in was their exterior design. The school mixed high-tech and modern with ancient and noble across the entire building. Arches filled with electronic displays and magical fountains dotted the courtyards and were surrounded by flowers and age-old trees that had been here since before the building started.
Happy End picked her way through the courtyard; she seemed to know where she was headed. Meanwhile, I lagged behind just a tiny bit. The air was awash with the odour of various flowers (None of which I could name. If you haven't figured it out, I ain’t got a green hoof) and I spotted a few love-birds who seemed interested in activities that were not covered by any club.
“Here we are,” she said, stopping to point at a building in front of us. And I tell you, what a building!
Sitting in the dead centre of the garden was a two story tall dodecagon-shaped greenhouse made entirely of thick green panes of glass that shone with a dull hue in the afternoon sun.
Within I could just make out the vague, disfigured outlines of trees as Happy began trotting at an excited pace towards the greenhouse. “Hurry up, will you?” she called back at me over the sound of her hooves on the flagstone-covered ground.
I nodded to nopony in particular and rushed after her, revelling in the mixed smells and the thick, comforting warmth of the sun on my coat. Maybe this day wasn’t going to be that bad. And maybe I just jinxed it. Time to find out! “So, uh, what’s gotten you so interested in gardening?” I asked.
Happy grabbed the handle of one of the double doors and yanked it open, releasing a thick wall of humid air. She took a deep breath, a slow smile spreading across her face as she closed her eyes. “Ahh, I’ve always loved Equestria. Didn’t I tell you about how the world whispers to me?”
Yes, you did, and I agreed with myself that you’re batshit crazy. “Yeah, you mentioned something like that.”
“Well,” she said as she stepped in. “Trees are the best at whispering. They live long enough for it to count, and they’re smart, smarter than we give them credit for.” With a skip in her step, the mare trotted in, looking up to the towering oaks and the gigantic beds of multi-hued flowers laid out in neat, curved rows.
“How do you... listen?” I asked, approaching a bed of flowers that looked like pods split in half with sharp protrusions on the rim.
She reached out, grabbed my collar and pulled me back, all the while looking deeper into the greenhouse. The plant snapped right where my muzzle was, the sharp fangs digging into the air. (Note to self: plants be creepy.)
“I don’t think you could do it, sorry. It’s an Earth pony thing. Some use it in agriculture, others use it to find stone or mine or to build homes without disturbing Equestria’s nature. In a world fated to eventually die, it’s nice that we can all live in a semblance of harmony. Earth ponies use that particular magic for their own good and for that of their neighbours. Some are better than others, though.”
Earth pony magic. Okay, that I can deal with. Hearing nature whispering to you? That, on the other hoof, sounds like a mental disorder. “C-could you show me?” I asked, biting my lower lip as I feared that I had gone too far.
“Sure. There’s an old, old tree here. It’s sick,” she said, eyes glazing over as she looked once more towards the room’s centre. “And it’s not too far from the office where we can sign in to join.”
She paved ahead, bringing me around wide beds of flowers and little shrubs that stood amongst the stone-paved roadways. Finally, we reached the epicentre of the dome, a place filled with six towering trees, each one of a different species that rose up and out of a hole cut into the ceiling.
Leaves whispered in the wind, turning this way and that to display a panoply of hidden colours as they played in the sun’s warm light. She trotted up and over the shin-height fence to touch one of the trees that I vaguely recognized as a maple.
“This one’s very sick. And old. She’s going to die, soon.” Happy End looked up the tree, beads of light playing across her bare face as she gave it a sad smile and whispered something that I failed to hear. “She has children, hundreds of them. And she wants those children to live on in her stead.”
“She?”
“The tree. Red Maples are polygamodioecious, there are male and female trees, sometimes both at the same time. This one wants to be replaced. It understands that it will soon die, but its position in the ring needs to be restored, and preferably by one of its offspring.” She giggled. “I guess even trees can be selfish.”
She pointed at a spot near my hooves and when I looked down I saw a sapling with a single, big maple leaf jutting out of the ground. “Tear that out of the ground, please. And bring it here. Oh, but try to be careful.”
With her rising levels of creepiness I decided it was in my best interests to do as she said. I grabbed at the sapling’s thin trunk and yanked it out of the ground with a single solid pull. “What are we going to do with it?” I asked as I dropped it at her side.
“We’re going to replace this tree,” she said, tapping the giant maple with a hoof. “You might want to back away, this is going to be a little bit messy.”
I swallowed hard, spun on my hoof and galloped away a bit before turning around. There was well over a dozen metres between myself and the mare, but still I had the uneasy impression that I was not far enough. Then my logic kicked in: what could she possibly do that could hurt me? She’s an Earth pony, and whispering to the earth is nice and all, but hardly harmful. Right?
Wrong.
Happy End began her whispering again, eyes jammed shut as she leaned forwards and touched the tree’s rough bark with her forehead. When she opened her eyes again, they glowed with an ethereal white that flashed through the hazy green light of the arboreum.
Her forehoof struck out and stabbed into the maple, sinking in like a bulldozer through butter until she was in up to her shin.
Then, as if things were not weird enough, she cranked the freaky up to eleven.
The brown bark of the tree grew darker and darker while above us the leaves began to rustle, even as they shriveled up and blackened. Like the tendrils of a cold fire, power spread up the tree, entire segments of it detaching themselves and falling to the ground. The branches turned to ash and disintegrated before they could land.
The cool wind within the greenhouse picked up, becoming a swirling tornado of dead flaming leaves, all of it spinning around the core of the tree and above Happy End’s head.
The tree protested like a slumbering giant, groaning as the magical flames shrieked through its form and up along its trunk. The leaves of nearby trees touching it were left unscathed. With a crack that sounded like thunder, the maple split and melted into ash.
Then it was over.
A strong gust picked up the remains and slipped them out of the roof’s hole to disperse them into the sky where they shimmered and twinkled before fading away.
Where the tree had stood was only a hole filled with narrow passageways where the maple’s roots had been. The circle was broken.
I took a few minutes to pick my jaw off the floor while Happy End shook her head, fixed her mane up, and sneezed out a puff of ash. “Trees taste yucky,” she said.
Okay, the mare had just killed a tree. Somehow. With magic. By whispering to it.
Well, shit.
“Okay, step two.” Happy End stretched, her butt pointing in the air as she sighed, then rose to pick up the nearby sapling. She tenderly grabbed it by the trunk and placed it, roots first, into the old maple’s hole.
Again she whispered something, but this time her eyes didn’t glow and she ended it with a simple giggle and a shake of her head. The results, though, were just as astonishing.
The sapling grew.
Roots tore out of its base and the truck shot to the air, branches cutting out of it at regular intervals before full sets of bright, green leaves bloomed into life. In less than a minute we were looking up at the newly grown form of an adult maple, its bark still tender and young but fully-grown nonetheless. “Aww, he’s sorta cute,” Happy End said as she shaded her eyes from the sunlight and looked up the new tree. “We should give him a name.”
“Uh...” I managed to say. “How’d you do that?”
“Oh, the whole removing and replacing thing? It’s something I learned a while back. An application of simple Earth pony powers. But it takes some convincing to do it, and you need to be tough and in tune.” She shrugged. “It’s hard to explain to one who can’t feel it himself. Sorry. In the grand scheme of things though, it’s very little. I’m just speeding along the process that nature would have done itself, eventually.”
“So, you can do that to any tree, and stuff?” I asked.
She nodded, wiping a thin sheen of sweat from her forehead. “Anything organic, really.”
A bit of a reminder for those of you reading right now:
Trees = Organic.
Earth = Organic.
Ponies = Organic.
Me = Organic.
The deep pit of crap I was wading in right now = Not organic.
“I think we’re going to name it Buds. It’s kinda cute, right?” I nodded. “Right! We’ve wasted enough time, but at least the whispering stopped. We should find the club-room and sign up.”
Hopping out of the flowerbed and tracking mud all over the flagstone, Happy End began humming an off-tune as she trotted ahead of me.
It was going to be a long day after all.