//------------------------------//
// 9: Guest Speakers 
// Story: Sabbatical, or the Study of Garden Gnome Anatomy in South Perjina 
// by Casca 
//------------------------------//

Starlight wondered how long it had been since she last had pie. 

It was one of those things on the middle of the list of things she didn't expect to miss when she left Ponyville Friendship Whatever Castle. Pinkie Pie, being who she was, brought treats every other day to share, and every thirteen days instead of frosted cupcakes it was pie. Starlight was outstandingly indifferent about pie in general, but Pinkie had a magic (proven) touch that brought a smile to even her thin, chapped lips. 

And the reason why she was thinking of pie was because she had smelled it.

"I don't smell it," said Sunset, whose nose was obviously not attuned to the finer figs in fife.

"Haven't seen figs in a pie in a while," murmured Starlight. 

"I mean, I guess they could work well since they enjoy a light heat treatment to soften up, but—"

"And is that a folk band I hear?"

Sunset's nose wrinkled. "Oh. I smell it now."

Their walk along a strip of beautifully green rolling hills in the highlands, following the ancient paved road borne of loving dedication and an admirably powerful selflessness, had taken them to what looked like a brick outhouse. 

"That's a school!" exclaimed Sunset.

Starlight's kidneys twisted in disappointment, but she managed to keep it in.

"And the pie smells so good, too," said Sunset. 

Starlight's stomach lobbied for stronger action. Silly stomach; how could it not know that Starlight did not negotiate with rebels? Especially not after their long history together in Our Town.

Yet...

"We should steal the pie," said Starlight, absentmindedly.

"What? No!"

"How do you suggest we get the pie then?"

Sunset placed her hooves firmly on Starlight's shoulders, as if she were cradling a child. It made her heart tingle a bit, which was a surprisingly unpleasant feeling as it clashed with the organized rioting below. 

"We use our words."

"They didn't work on you though."

"No, no, Starlight. In that case your words don't count. You were going to steal the pie instead of asking for some like a proper pony." Sunset's expression darkened a bit. "Asking nicely is probably going to matter a lot more considering this is a school."

"And it will work?"

Sunset stretched her shoulders back. "I dunno. Country ponies generally treat strangers well, right?"

They approached the door, behind which the sounds of a dilettante orchestra of uncommon, wonderful instruments puttered out under the command of a single voice.

"Rosies, you're lagging behind a little. Try to follow Bluesies' timing. Summerset, remember that there's a sharp on that D in bar twenty three. Write it down now."

"I'm betting there's a sharp D somewhere," whispered Starlight to nopony in particular.

"And... that should be it. Five minutes, class, and then we resume."

On cue, Sunset gave the door a string of sharp taps.

The pony who opened the door was a fair bit older than her voice hinted. A mostly white flowing mane was held in place by a dark headband. Spectacles, polished, only served to intensify the small tired eyes it supported. Starlight couldn't really care what the colour of her coat was.

"Can I help you two?" asked the teacher.

"Hey there," said Sunset cheerily. "We're travelers looking for a place to rest a while, and we happened to smell your delicious pie..."

Starlight blinked. Only Sunset had that kind of honest trust in generally preconceived notions towards rural demographics. 

"And delicious it is," smirked the teacher. "An old family recipe passed down from my great grandmother. I'm supposing you want to try it?"

"We'd be willing to wash the dishes or clean the yard in exchange," continued Sunset, flashing her a radiant smile. "Any sort of chore, really."

The teacher peered past them. "As you can see, there is no yard, and I teach my students to wash their own dishes. It builds character. I see you are unicorns, and hold yourselves in proper fashion; can either of you teach music?"

Sunset shot a glance at Starlight, waking her mind from its prior state of blankness. 

"I can sing and play the guitar," tried Sunset. 

The teacher remained unmoved.

"Uh. My companion here's a student of the Princess Twilight Sparkle?"

"Oh my," said the teacher.





Outside, two mares argued in hushed tones.

"You want me to talk to these kids about learning?" exclaimed Starlight.

Sunset waved a hoof. "It's fine, right?"

"Uh, no. The whole point of us being here is that I stopped my learning."

"I don't think I'm asking for much here!" burst Sunset. "Just yammer at them for half an hour about your experience! Or you could go the cheesy way and tell them to study hard!"

"The problem is I have nothing good to say," said Starlight painfully. "All I did was read, read, read. Reading assignments made up eighty percent of every semester."

Sunset frowned. "That's not right."

"Twilight Sparkle, remember?" 

"Oh." Sunset's burning eyes probed Starlight's own. "How about the other twenty percent?"

"I had to make friends," muttered Starlight. 

"And how did that go?" asked Sunset, wide-eyed.

Starlight rolled her eyes. "Put it this way: I set off on an indefinitely long trip. For company, I chose you, a criminal banished to another freaking dimension, over anypony else. Does that answer the question?" Then a lightbulb lit up, and she added: "You were Princess Celestia's student! Why don't you say something instead?"

"That was ages ago! I don't think the teacher would buy it," protested Sunset. "And technically I wasn't really banished so much as, uh... you know. We've talked about this before."

"Whatever."

"Anyways, you're up." 

Through the window, the teacher waved at them to enter while her hooves remained planted on the ground. It was crazy how a pony's stare could be refined to such control...

...and then Starlight found herself with a dry mouth in front of about twenty wide-eyed tiny ponies.

Either Sunset had somehow pushed her into the classroom sans friction, or the teacher's gaze was an eldritch mind control spell.

"Uh. Hello," said Starlight.

"Hello, Starlight," chanted the class in disarray. 

It was... familiar, somehow. This lack of organization. 

"So, uh, you know that I'm Princess Twilight Sparkle's student. From Equestria. Who here's from Equestria?" half-yelled Starlight, her smile brittle like the skin of a day-old dinner roll left in the oven to reheat for too long. 

Nopony raised their hand.

"Figures. Well, uh, how many of you are studying super hard?"

There was a mess of answers in various tones, all to the tune of "Eh". A skilled sound magician could probably pick out each voice and rearrange them to make art. A skilled psychologist could pick out the energy in each voice and make far-fetched hypotheses about their family lives. But Starlight had a different set of skills altogether, and right now she got an idea.

"I notice that this class has a bit of trouble working in unison." She turned to the teacher, who nodded. "I was also outside listening to you play for a while. Now"—and here Starlight grinned—"I happen to know a thing or two about getting ponies to work as one..."





Outside, two mares walked, wiping crumbs of pie off their lips. 

"I can't believe they fell asleep!" groaned Starlight.

"I'm relieved they did," snorted Sunset. "That way, none of that should stick. What were you even trying to do?"

"Hey, I got into the zone," said Starlight. "I thought it would be useful, seeing as they lacked the ability to work as a team. Beats talking about my studies, that's for sure."

Sunset gave her a poke in the ribs. "One, they're kids. It probably doesn't matter too much outside of band practice. Two, I'm pretty sure all that equality stuff is technically your studies. Weren't you over it?"

Starlight shrugged. "Poor execution isn't cause to completely scrap the idea."

"There was something kind of like it in Humania," said Sunset. "The humans didn't think much of it, though. A lot of shared wealth, leaders being more equal than others, stuff. I didn't pay much attention."

"Well, at least we got pie."

Sunset seemed to ponder over this for a while before replying: "It was pretty good pie."

Starlight could tell, sometimes, when ponies held back things they wanted to say. It was the easiest to detect in Applejack, and it was the most frequent with Rarity. It wasn't that Fluttershy didn't want to say anything—if you listened, you realized that she always did—neither Pinkie or Rainbow Dash bothered with restraint. 

Sunset had held something back. Starlight guessed that it was the start of a diatribe about the ethics of essentially proselytization to children, seeing as Equestria's government was also its religion. Or maybe it was a casual slip that would open up a discussion on Starlight's pet subject, an exploration of observations, philosophies and principles, in that order, that honestly neither of them would appreciate while the taste of baked figs remained on their tongues.

Sunset was such a graceful pony. And to her act of grace, Starlight simply nodded, as the two settled into a content quiet.