It Was a Magical Time

by Test4Echo

Twas the Eve of Hearth's Warming Eve

“And then Clover the Clever begat Luxurious the Lusty,” Starlight flatly stated, rapping her hoof against the wooden surface of her desk. Around the classroom, some of the students jumped at the sudden noise. She sighed. They were obviously falling asleep.

Scrunching her forehead, she gazed around the room at the attendees. Most of the creatures were staring at her, their eyes devoid of any life. At least two were completely passed out, quiet snores escaping their muzzles. One of the students, a griffon, had a trail of drool trickling down his desk.

It was the last day of school before the Hearth’s Warming break, and she’d be damned if her students wouldn’t learn at least something. Even if she had to drill it into their heads. She even had a spell for it.

She shuddered. No, that wouldn’t be a good idea. After all, the last time she tried to make sure her classrooms actually gained some education, Twilight had swiftly put an end to it. By the time she had gotten there, however, the school contained a few literal fires. About the only thing that Twilight wasn’t upset about was Trixie’s room going up in flames.

Instead of keeping knowledge in, it turned them into mindless vegetables, barely able to hold a conversation. Cooking skills and sports skills were also victims of the malfunctioning spell. For instance, one yak student stared at a tennis ball for roughly ten minutes during PE. After he had finally figured out how to use his hoof to grasp it, he chucked it wildly and smacked his opponent in the face.

One short rebound later, the ball ended up puncturing a ceiling tile and breaking one of the spell matrices that powered the lights of the auditorium. Crystal liked to burn, apparently. At least with arcane energy fueling the reaction.

While it appeared that the struck student was woozy at first, he was okay aside from a few missing teeth. Apparently the spell hardened their craniums.

After Twilight had arrived and finally restored order, she spoke with Starlight one-on-one. Something about them being over it once before, and that she couldn’t use spells to force creatures into anything. She wasn’t entirely paying attention near the end, as Twilight started to grow pedantic. If she heard the lecture on “don’t brainwash creatures to do what you want” one more time, she’d probably run out the door of the school screaming.

True, she’d only gotten that reprimand once. It was still more than enough to keep her from doing it again. Unless she did it with a different spell.

Shaking her head, she flinched when there was a sudden scream from one of the mares near the front of the class. Behind her, a yak was snoring loudly, and his latest inhale had sucked her mane back and into his mouth.

With a yank, she managed to pull the majority of her hair out, which made the yak cough at the ticklish sensation. Still, he stayed drowsy and started to bow his head forward before his chin slipped off his forehooves.

Slamming to the floor, he grunted and stared up at the ceiling, rubbing his head with a hoof. A small chorus of chuckles escaped the student body. The mare he accidentally startled brushed down her mane before glaring at him, a faint blush on her cheeks.

After a couple of seconds, the class returned to staring at Starlight. Some of the students at the back gazed at her with glazed eyes over, and another portion doodled around in their notebooks, and one shared her latest artistic masterpiece with her friend. Starlight couldn’t make it out, but given the snickering, she could take a guess.

Another idea flashed through her mind. Maybe instead of burning facts and logic into their heads, she could at least use a spell of compliance. Of course, even if it wasn’t the same spell, it’d probably get Twilight to go after her.

After all, she could get the meaning of Twilight’s last letter she received. It was just after she had paid the reparations demanded by the parents of her classes. “I’m not mad, Starlight. Just extremely, extremely, disappointed.” She could feel the frustration rolling off the pages when it arrived.

Roused from her thoughts, she made out a growing murmur among the students. Now that the yak was once again on his seat, he had muttered a few words to the mare in front of him before facing the pony beside him.

From what Starlight made out, it seemed to spark a fire of conversation about Hearth’s Warming plans. She checked the clock behind her. It was still about half an hour before they could officially be let go.

Perhaps they thought they could mentally skip class, but they would have another thing coming. They would learn the lineage of Clover the Clever, and they would like it.

With a snort, she stepped from behind her desk and trotted forward. Furrowing her brow, she stopped a few steps shy of the first row of desks. One or two students halted their conversation, their mouths frozen mid-speech.

Saying nothing, she let her presence slow the chatter. After those who had noticed her had finished their piece, she cleared her throat and snapped, “Quiet!” She stomped a hoof and thrashed her tail.

Veins throbbing along her neck, she leveled them all with a furious glower. Outside of the front row, most of the students ignored her. Buried in their discussions, they prattled on about Hearth’s Warming plans, or trips they were expecting to take before the start of the new school semester in the new year.

Groaning, Starlight pinched the bridge of her nose and grumbled to herself, “Why am I cursed to have the rowdy ones?” She sighed and stared at the ceiling. “Why does Trixie always have the good students? Does she bribe them with candy or something?”

A pair of students near the back were snickering at their friend. The blue unicorn between them blushed and scrunched her muzzle. She sullenly crossed her forearms and glanced away. Although the topic was unheard, Starlight could make out some chortles about a date, or at least a stallion.

Suddenly, she snarled after her one friend, a white unicorn with a dull orange and golden-brown mane, jabbed her one too many times. She hopped from her desk and lowered her posture, igniting her horn with blue fire.

In response, the other unicorn cringed back before she rolled off her own chair and shot a jet of orange flame toward it. The two pillars clashed and splashed sparks in all directions.

A nearby kirin whooped, exclaiming, “Aw yeah! Mare fight!”

While not everycreature, most partook in the cheering of the two mares. Both were focused on keeping the two pyres locked together. Some sweat started to pour down the back of the blue unicorn, and her one remaining friend, a dark purple unicorn, glanced nervously between the two.

Rushing forward, Starlight powered her magic and pulled the two mares apart. “Enough!” she cried, flaring more energy into her horn to suck the oxygen from around the fires. The lapping tongues of flame from their horns died in an instant, and she glared at both of them.

Briefly, the two unicorns continued to glare at each other before Starlight positioned herself between them. Staring at the blue unicorn, she sighed, “See me after class. That is not a reaction to some teasing.”

Blushing and whimpering, the mare nodded her head and scraped her hoof along the ground. She sighed and trudged slowly back to her seat, grumbling under her breath, “It’s not like I think Amour’s cute or anything.” As she sat down, the purple unicorn gave her a single rub on her back before returning to her notes.

Innocently whistling to herself, she flipped through a few pages and tried not to pay attention to the reaming out Starlight was giving her other friend.

Shooting the white unicorn a withering glower, Starlight mumbled to herself, “I swear these are happening every day right now.” She shivered once and sighed. The student took a couple of steps back, squeaking when her rump bumped against the windowsill.

She glanced from side to side before flashing Starlight a weak grin, and Starlight exhaled audibly. The air flapping her lips, she mused, “I could just let them skip class. They’re just antsy from it being so close to Hearth’s Warming.”

She banished the thought with a shake of her head. As much as she could see reason to let them out early, she didn’t need a “class attendance quota” meeting again from Twilight.

“They need to be learning, Starlight,” she could almost hear Twilight say. “If they aren’t in class, they aren’t learning! Imagine if too many were… tardy?!”

In her head, she could see Twilight giving her one final lesson as a former student. The “I have to be firm sometimes,” lesson. For whatever reason, it was just her writing thousands of lines of, “I will not let my students skip classes.”

Snickering, Starlight shook her head before she grimaced. Of course, Neighsay would probably not be as lenient. And if he came at the same time as Twilight, she would have two headaches to deal with.

As much as it would probably be better for her to let them off the hook, she would need to hold on to them for the rest of class time. It wasn’t going to be much longer anyway, there were just twenty-five minutes left in class.

Turning her attention back to the unicorn, Starlight pawed at the floor and stated, “Well?”

“Uh…” the mare in front of her mumbled, shrinking back and brushing aside some of her mane. She chuckled and sputtered a few times before she glanced away.

Behind her, a few flakes of snow had begun to fall from the sky. The sunlight was beginning to disappear, as pegasi zipped around to place clouds in a tight grid pattern. Soon enough, there would be nothing but sheets of white descending from the heavens.

Given that Hearth’s Warming was only two days away, they were working overtime to make sure that there was plenty of fresh snow for the holiday. If Starlight remembered right, they were due for a strong, but short, blizzard. Why it had to be as school ended, she wasn’t sure. All she received from the local weather team was a short note that said, “Reasons.”

Opening her mouth, Starlight started to say something, but the words died in her throat. More flakes were falling from the sky, and she felt her stomach suddenly turn inside out. In it, a pit formed rapidly, making her croak in surprise as she fell on her haunches.

Her brain buzzed. Peripheral vision fading, she whimpered softly as she continued to watch the weather. In seconds, it seemed to grow darker, and there was a slow ringing sound in her ears as she suddenly heard a single cry of anguish.

For a short time, she sat motionless, just gazing out the window, her eyes shrunken in fear. The white unicorn tilted her head in confusion, taking a couple of steps forward.

As she reached out, she asked, “Uh, Headmare Glimmer?” She tapped Starlight on the shoulder, getting only a single shiver in response. Some of the other students also started to watch Starlight, some growing nervous as she remained effectively catatonic.

Before anycreature could say anything else, Starlight shook herself and blinked. Already she felt normal again, save for a bit of a residual lump in her throat. She coughed a couple of times and stared at her hooves. Arching a brow, she muttered to herself, “Okay. Sitting down now.”

She quickly tugged at the hem of her dress that Rarity had made for her. Along with Starlight, Trixie had also received a new set of clothes, mostly to appear more professional. If anything, they made Starlight feel just a tad older, but they definitely helped keep her warmer in the colder months.

Her matching purple overcoat and cyan blouse did make her seem more like a headmare. At the same time, she wondered if it kept her from being as approachable. It wasn’t like she was prone to trying to solve issues with magic. At least not anymore.

After she had flicked the dust off her outfit, Starlight turned to look again at the unicorn. Laced with concern, the unicorn’s face was crinkled into a wince. When she saw that Starlight was standing again, she asked, “Are you okay?”

“Uh, yes?” Starlight stated, shaking her head and sighing. “Don’t think that you can get out of a reprimand either. I was just about to get to you.” She scowled and prepared to speak further.

“You just conked out there,” the mare stated, making Starlight halt in her mental tracks.

For a second, Starlight stared emptily at the student. Fluttering her eyes rapidly, she finally asked, “What?” She licked her lips. “No, I remember coming up here, then you asked me if I was all right.”

“You were there for over a minute, Headmare Glimmer,” the unicorn replied, scrunching her muzzle worriedly and giving her a miffed expression. She took another step forward and tried to place a hoof on Starlight’s back, which was quickly shaken off.

“Okay, maybe I blanked out for a second,” Starlight admitted with a faint blush. There was a small gap in her memory. Whatever had triggered it was probably something inconsequential. That, or she was experiencing horn rot or something. All manners of disease could affect a unicorn’s mind.

“No, think happy thoughts, Starlight,” Starlight told herself as she tuned out the next thing her student was saying. “Go to your happy place. Kites, empathy cocoa, a whole room of statues and posters of Sunburst—” She paused for a second to let her mind catch up.

Sunburst had left for the Crystal Empire at least a month or so ago. After the first few days, he had told her to stop sending him so many letters. Honestly, it wasn’t that many, although the mailmare always looked like she was going to bolt when Starlight came out to give her mail to deliver.

To be fair, Sunburst probably didn’t need that collection of homemade kites she put together in her free time. And they didn’t have to interlock to form her face. That was just an added feature. Trixie grumbled about not thinking of that idea first.

Starlight blinked. “Okay, maybe getting a bit desperate to see Sunburst again.”

Shaking her head, she frowned and replied, “Whatever the case, don’t think you’re getting off without seeing me.” She turned around to glare at the blue unicorn again. “Both of you, see me after class. I’ll have to talk with you about your fiery tempers.”

With that, she huffed and rotated on her hooves. Illuminated in the dwindling daylight from outside, motes of dust floated lazily through the air. She sneezed as a couple of flakes floated into her nostrils. Wiping a couple of tears from her eye, she furrowed her brow.

They would need to get better cleaning staff come in over the holidays. Maybe actual professionals, instead of just whoever they could volunteer from the classrooms. She would have to do her own research, as anypony Trixie ever found was far too expensive.

That, or they basically sat on their haunches all night and just reported that they were doing things. Also, Trixie’s one affordable suggestion, Manic Mania’s Midnight Cleaner was a bust. While they never saw the ponies at work, they somehow ended up with more dirt than before.

Also, half their classrooms were in other dimensions, and at least three flying pigs had taken up roost in the auditorium. To that day, Starlight told Trixie that she was bamboozled by Discord, but Trixie insisted that she talked to a pony. Of course Discord wouldn’t comment, although he did send his regards by way of singing eggplant.

Trixie’s next suggestion was even worse, somehow. They charged an arm and a leg and did a lousy job. It was as if Trixie couldn’t care less about how many bits were spent. Probably thought that they grew on trees, since Twilight was technically the one funding the school.

Of course, given that she also was the pony who proposed the “charisma wing.” From all the vagaries she could muster, she basically asked to be made a dean of a section of the school. According to her, most of the students were “too geeky” to effectively learn to be friends with others.

Also, the pitch was partly to make “the Patient and Dutiful Trixie earn her keep.” By getting a thirty percent pay raise. For effectively doing the same job she was now. It wasn’t like she lived in Twilight’s old castle with Starlight or anything.

When Starlight had told her no, then Trixie took it to Twilight. It was a big deal in her day court, for all of five seconds before she laughed it out. Trixie hadn’t come home until the next day, and she was covered in doughnut crumbs.

Plopping herself back down on her seat, she sighed and took a fresh headcount of the ponies in the classroom. Furrowing her brow, she snarled when she counted at least half a dozen less students than before. Suppressing her panic, she instead grumbled internally, “Guess they’ll be getting Fs on their report cards. Again.”

For a second, she prepared to teleport out and drag the missing students back to their class. However, she breathed a sigh and shook her head. As much as she could easily track them while they were in the school, there was no point. They’d probably just mentally check out anyway.

Flicking an ear, she furrowed her brow as she spotted a few students still murmuring between each other. She cleared her throat and smacked a hoof on the desk, shooting them all a glare. When they finally stopped, she sighed and nodded her head.

She flashed them a slightly manic grin. “Okay! If we’re done talking when we should be learning—” She felt her jugular throb as she gritted her teeth. “We can get back to the lecture.”

Breathing in, she shut her eyes and waited for the chorus of agreement that would surely come her way. She stayed quiet. Surely, it would be arriving any second. It didn’t.

Instead, she raised her eyelids partway. Flicking one of her ears, she huffed and rolled her eyes. They acted like she wasn’t even there, like she wasn’t implying detention if they didn’t comply.

She wouldn’t, obviously. That was for actually serious matters. Although, she had wanted to try some of her old techniques from Our Town again. She had yet to install the speakers she had ordered from Amneighzon in the detention room, and she still needed to install a recorded message, but that could be whipped up fast.

She could already imagine the statements she’d use. “I will not beat up my fellow student for staring at me.” “Friendship involves sacrifice of the self.” “Lunch money will not be needed in a friendship society, so stop forcing ponies to give them to you.” “Embrace friendship, it is inevitable.”

It was better than Trixie’s suggestion, though. Playing on repeat the Telebuddies’ music for the duration of a student’s stay was too much, even for her. Trixie wasn’t forthcoming on why she chose it, aside from citing that the “purple one taunted her in her dreams.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she sighed as the students continued to jabber amongst themselves. In her chest, she could feel her frustration starting to mount, bashing itself against the lump in her throat.

Briefly she tried to push it back down. Her left eye twitched. “You can handle this, Starlight. You are calm. You are the epitome of calm.” She was far from calm. As her breathing started to grow flighty, she internally muttered to herself, “It’s just the end of school year excitement. Nothing to worry about.”

Stomping a hoof on her desk, Starlight attempted to get the class’s attention yet again. However, it was barely heard over the noise of conversation. Most of the students barely paid her any mind, and the buzz of their discussions reached a near fever pitch.

She whacked her hoof again, and she could hardly hear it. Slivers of pain shot up her fetlock and forearm. She winced as she pulled it back. Breathing deeply, she told herself, “You. Are. Calm.” She rubbed her temples.

Huffing, she gritted her teeth and complained internally, “Why, Twilight? Why did you only get me three substitute teachers? Could you not get the rest of the Pillars to fill in? Was Star Swirl too busy sniffing up a resurrection spell or something?” She groaned. If this kept up much longer, she’d get a headache in no time.

While Starlight was thankful that Twilight had convinced some of the Pillars of Equestria to help, she was still short-staffed. Plus, the Pillars weren’t ideal.

Mistmane spent much of her time napping instead of teaching. Despite being young in mind, her old body demanded rest.

Flash ran his classes usually like ancient military drills. More than once ponies or other creatures ran out screaming when they were done. If they could move at all, that was. That also relied on Flash not ogling Somnambula, since they frequently taught together.

It didn’t help that the students also found her distracting. With all the random nosebleeds, Starlight had to scrounge around for extra tissues or handkerchiefs for most of the school.

For a few weeks, it was a tad awkward after Starlight asked Twilight if she could use a blood transfusion spell. When asked why, Starlight explained it was a new disorder, “AMT Syndrome.” Attractive Mare Teacher. Twilight didn’t need to know the last part.

Scrunching her muzzle, Starlight furrowed her brow and glared into the class. Her patience worn thin, she powered her horn, feeding energy into it to create a high-pitched whine. Some sparks flew from the tip, landing on the floor and fizzling out.

At first, the students didn’t notice, but eventually one of the mares that was in front of the sleeping yak blinked and pointed at Starlight. Her eyes growing wide, she screamed, “She’s going to brainwash us all!” At that, she ducked and held her hooves over her head.

Instantly the entire body went silent and gasped, with some of them hunching down in their seats or even knocking their desks over for protection. Paper spilled around the floor, and Starlight internally groaned. Apparently she had not outlived her reputation after the first “magic incident.”

With a huff, Starlight blew a strand of her mane out of her face and righted the desks and students. In a flash, she placed their notes back where they should have been, and she mused “Yes, I’m definitely going to brainwash you. It’s not like the audio frequency of an amplification spell is the exact same as one for Mind Enslavement.”

It looked like her class’s unicorns would need to be taken to Magic 101 again. Hopefully she could instruct it better than Twilight or Celestia could in Canterlot. If they couldn’t tell the difference between two trivial spells, then how could they effectively do anything in the real world?

“Are we done?” Starlight snapped as she let her horn continue its whine for a few more seconds.

“Can we just—” one student squeaked out before Starlight leveled a glare at her.

As she whimpered, Starlight fed the energy she was building into her vocal cords, and she boomed, “I said: are we done?!” Due to the amplification, she managed to blast some of the returned notes off the first row of desks and also blew straight the manes of a few of the mares there.

It was loud enough that the two desks directly in front of her squeaked a few inches back, and their occupants blinked in surprise. They slowly returned their manes back to their original shape.

She had probably topped Luna’s Royal Canterlot Voice.

For a second, Starlight felt a slight bit of pride well up in her chest. Perhaps she could challenge Luna to see who could deafen a pony first.

Finally the room had fallen into a still quietness. A pin could drop, and everycreature could probably hear it. Some bits of dust and dirt floated in the air, stirred up by Starlight’s exclamation. Starlight stared at her students, who stared back, their eyes the size of mere pinpricks.

Weakly, Starlight began to chuckle to herself as the assembled students continued to watch her. Some started to sweat, nervously glancing between themselves before shifting in their seats. One or two eventually turned to their notes, pretending to be deep in their work. These were the ones that were most guilty of chattering while in class.

Blushing faintly, Starlight tittered nervously and scratched the back of her mane. The numerous eyes on her started to feel like they were judging her. On top of that, her stomach was still roiling from whatever had made her blank out earlier. Together, the sensations started to make her feel nauseous, and she groaned to herself.

Taking a few deep breaths, she closed her eyes and opened her mouth. “Now—” she began, before she was cut off by raucous cheers.

Blinking, Starlight gazed at her class as they started to applaud in whatever way they could. Talons clapped together, hooves thudded on the ground. Outside of the occasional outlier that was too embarrassed to look at her, the entire student body was celebrating.

It was the last reaction she was expecting, especially when one kirin exclaimed, “Yeah! That was totally awesome, Headmare Glimmer!” he whooped and punched another student in the shoulder, who glowered back in response.

Groaning, Starlight smacked her forehead into her desk and whined under her breath, “Why me? Why. Me?” She wasn’t expecting an answer, she just wanted to vent. Better to get angry at nothing than to blast her students. Or brainwash them. For real.

For a short while, the students continued to applaud, but as they started to notice her tired expression, slowly quieted down. A couple coughed into their forehooves before they meekly stared at her. A griffon scratched behind his head nervously.

Switching her gaze from one student to the next, Starlight grunted out, “Now, if we’re finally done, can we get back to Clover the Clever?” A round of exasperated sighs met her. She smirked. That was more or less what she was expecting.

“Excellent!” she declared as she perked up her ears and clopped her forehooves together. Straightening out her blouse and adjusting the golden pin on her chest, she cleared her throat and stated, “Also we can hopefully get to how Clover’s work in fundamental harmony resonances paved the way for modern Equestria.”

Anxiously, the students glanced around, and one raised their forehoof. Before they could say anything, Starlight blinked and mentally smacked herself. Chuckling nervously, she hastily added, “Oh, and of course, friendship. Can’t forget that.” She scratched her head and snickered again.

One or two of the students in the back furrowed their brows and stuck out their tongues. Starlight could guess exactly what they were thinking. Why should they be cooped up and listen to a pony drone about another dead pony when they could be playing in the snow or something?

It was simple: because she said so. She snarled and tapped a hoof on her desk. “Unless anycreature would rather learn what happens when they fail my classes?” As a chorus of denials and uneasy responses came back, she chortled and stated brightly, “Good! Because I’d hate to hold any of you back a semester.”

With that, she coughed into her hoof before she grabbed a small pointer on her desk and smacked it onto the blackboard. She breathed deeply. Glancing back, she waited to make sure they were all paying attention before she continued on.

On the blackboard, a few scribbles of a city were drawn. It was fairly crude, but it would suffice. After all, she wasn’t an artist.

Snatching a piece of chalk, she scrawled a basic stick figure of a pony in front of the city. It screeched and scratched against the blackboard, causing both her and her students to cringe at the noise. Plastering her ears against her head, she winced as she tried to finish the drawing.

Humming softly, she dabbed the chalk twice on the circle that was the head, then scraped a small, curved line into a smile. It cheesily grinned at her.

With that, she nodded and turned around. Smacking the drawing a couple of times with her pointer, she sat up on the desk and flicked her tail from side to side. Smiling, she asked, “Now, who can tell me what was the greatest contribution of Clover?”

There were a few murmurs amongst the learners. Most of the ponies looked bored, but some of the other creatures were at least attempting to appear interested. After a few seconds, a hippogriff raised her talon and asked, “The founding of Equestria, Headmare Glimmer?”

When Starlight huffed, she weakly grinned and brushed back some of her rose-colored mane. Blowing a streak of her hair out of her face, Starlight muttered internally, “Observant.” She shook her head. “No, outside of founding Equestria.”

Holding up a hoof, Starlight blurted out, “Of course, don’t forget she didn’t technically found it. She only helped the three pony tribe leaders forge a new alliance. Equestria would come later.” She glanced up as wind rattled on the window.

It was slowly picking up in intensity, and she spotted some weather ponies flitter about. In the middle of the fluttering pegasi, one mare was directing them to fill gaps or to kick some clouds harder. With each command, the snow grew thicker, and soon enough it would be a proper blizzard outside.

For a second, Starlight paused and watched the activity. A single shiver ran down her back before she broke her gaze from outside and returned to her class.

A soft cough echoed through the room as the assembled creatures stared at her. Awkwardly, she chuckled and stated, “Of course, that tidbit isn’t really relevant. Okay! Rephrasing!” She hopped off the desk and tapped the pointer on the blackboard.

“After Equestria was founded, what was Clover’s greatest accomplishment?” Her students stared at her, perplexed expressions on their faces. She sighed and repeated slowly, “Anycreature? Anycreature?” She trotted forward to drum a hoof on her desk before she nickered, “It isn’t that hard.”

Thinking for a moment, she realized that probably most ponies didn’t care for history like she did. Other creatures were possibly even less interested. However, these seemed like they couldn’t care less at all. If they could tell the difference between an event that had happened two years ago versus two hundred years ago, it would be a bit surprising.

And, given that for a while it was practically every week Twilight dealt with a life-threatening issue, it didn’t help matters. Some of those problems might have been from Starlight, but that was coincidental. It wasn’t like Twilight had a room dedicated to stopping her in case she had a nervous breakdown and decided to summon a black hole in the middle of Equestria.

That would never happen. Never.

Through her musing, the ticking of the clock caused her left eye to twitch. Shooting it a glance, she sighed when she saw they only had about ten minutes remaining. Aside from it, the room was silent, and she slowly furrowed her brow.

After a solid thirty seconds of waiting, she finally switched her gaze back to the hippogriff, who just shrugged and gave her a nervous wince. Starlight could make out a few beads of sweat on the hippogriff’s forehead.

Groaning, Starlight smacked a hoof to her forehead before she grumbled, “Okay, so, in 744 BLB—”

A single yak student raised her hoof.

“Before Luna’s Banishment,” Starlight snapped back. She growled and shot the student a glare. The yak shortly lowered her hoof.

Huffing, she trotted back and forth behind her desk. Her hoofbeats clopped loudly on the stone floor and reverberated through the classroom. She looked for a second in each student’s eye.

“In 744 BLB, Clover established the Council of Unicorns to provide oversight and guidance on new spell creation.” Starlight rolled her eyes and pursed her lips. Hopefully that tidbit would jog a student’s memory. After another beat, she tried to keep from screaming from all the blank expressions she received.

Rotating her hoof at the fetlock, she leaned in a bit and drawled, “And, after the creation of the council, Clover began to research—?” She shot her gaze amongst the crowd. “Anycreature? Anycreature?” Internally shrieking to herself, she focused on keeping her face as deadpan as possible.

Occasionally, her left eye twitched, but aside from that, she held it well.

Grumbling under her breath, she finally huffed out, “The Leighsian Process of Magical Theory.” She scratched the words above the crude city drawing. After she finished, she whirled on her hooves and beamed at the students. In response, she received silence.

They were effectively catatonic, as they simply stared at her, devoid of all emotion. Wherever that energy they had to cheer her on had gone, she had no clue.

Some sweat trickling down the back of her neck, she prodded, “And after she established the new processes, Clover—?” Whipping her forearm around, she tried to get somecreature to answer her. Her heart beating slightly faster, she moaned internally, “Anycreature, please!”

Coughing into her shoulder, she asked, “Anycreature? Anycreature?” When she received no response, she bemoaned to herself, “Why the buck are you even here, then?! Didn’t you come to learn friendship principles?”

Letting her mane flop in front of her face as she growled and lowered her posture, she finally spat out, “Clover discovered the Harmonious Web spell.” Without waiting for a response, she scribbled the name of the spell onto the chalkboard.

For emphasis, she scribbled a cheesy-looking heart with a small hole through it, like it was run through with an arrow. A few dribbles of blood she added at the last second, a faint glimmer going across her eyes as she did so. She jabbed the chalk on the last drop, and she coughed into a hoof.

“These students are going to be the death of me, I swear.” She furrowed her brow and gazed back at them.

One dragon was blowing a giant bubble with some gum. The pink substance was expanding rapidly, and it appeared that he was dozing off. As his head lolled back, he snorted, which sent another blast of air into the bubble.

It burst, loudly. The pop caused about half the class to dive under their desks, while the other half either readied for fisticuffs or powered their horns. Blinking, the dragon wiped his face down and blushed before trying to get the sticky substance off his claws.

It only managed to get it buried further into his scales, and he glanced at Starlight, panic starting to form on his face. Starlight groaned as she used a quick cleaning spell to vaporize the gum. “Case in point,” she grumbled to herself.

Without skipping a beat, Starlight closed her eyes and returned to her lecture. “And after she discovered that spell, she used it to—anycreature? Anycreature?” With no response, she sighed. “I guess I’ll just have to choose one.”

She swiftly darted her gaze around the room, eventually landing on a pony near the front, who glanced side to side when Starlight jabbed a hoof at him. Anxiously pressing a forehoof against his chest, he arched a brow, and she nodded frantically.

In her head, she bellowed, “Just answer the bucking question!”

Nervously dabbing at his brow, the stallion coughed lightly and chuckled. A faint blush started to form on his face before he started to zoom through his notebook.

Starlight sighed.

After a couple of seconds, he shot his head up and held up a hoof. Stammering, he declared, “Oh, uh, Clover used it to bond all of Equestria to each other, so they could use the warmth of love and friendship to create magic never achieved!” He smirked and slammed his notebook shut. Snarkily, he added, “And Clover is a he.”

It was a start, at least. Either way, he answered the question, and Starlight whooped internally at finally receiving an answer. It was a simple response, and he should have had it memorized, but a win was a win. “Class participation! Whoo!”

Grinning from ear to ear, Starlight bobbed her head up and down and declared, “Exactly! It only lasted for Clover’s generation, but it formed the bonds ponies still have with each other to this day.” Chuckling under her breath, she added, “Of course, it did have other… unintended consequences.”

As Starlight received a few murmured questions, she smirked and chortled to herself, “This will be good.” She rested her pointer and snatched the chalk again. Sticking out her tongue, she returned to the drawing of Clover the Clever and erased it with a quick spell.

In its place, she started to draw two ponies. The first, while difficult to make due to the unwieldy nature of drawing details with chalk, was clearly Star Swirl. Even with the basic definitions, it was impossible to mistake his long, scraggly beard.

Next to him, she drew Clover, this time with the pony’s hood removed. From underneath the cloth, a flowing mane blustered about in a non-existent wind. Additionally, Starlight rounded Clover’s chest slightly and made the unicorn’s face slimmer.

In the end, what was depicted before the student body was Star Swirl and Clover. Most of the new Clover’s proportions were the same. However, there was just enough curves to indicate that it was a mare. A bulky, stallion-like mare, but a mare nonetheless.

Observing her work for a second, Starlight nodded. Just to make sure, she added a few hearts above Star Swirl and Clover’s heads. A couple of students chuckled as she finished.

Rotating on her hooves, she smiled at those assembled and asked, “Now, you’re probably wondering, ‘Starlight, all the history books say Clover was a stallion. Why are you calling him a she?’” She resisted the urge to throw a snide nasal pitch into her voice. Every time she mentioned Clover’s gender, it got ponies irritated. Twilight had yet to accept it, either.

Sneering, she stomped a hoof on her desk and declared, “History got it wrong. I have it on reliable authority.” Trudging a few steps closer, she leaned back on her desk. Smugly, she placed a hoof on her chest and proclaimed, “I have it from Star Swirl himself that Clover was a mare.”

A yak scratched her head. “But smart, glowy unicorn always shown as stallion!” she protested, getting a chorus of agreement from the students. Giving herself a shake, which jangled some of her jewelry, she added, “Puny ponies even make paintings of him after he died!”

“Oh, I know.” Starlight held up both her hooves to attempt to calm the growing consternation in her students. As the murmur died, she stated, “Clover was just… hefty. She was built like a stallion.” Pressing a hoof to her muzzle, she chortled. “When you were the gofer for Princess Platinum and Star Swirl, you ran quite a bit.”

One of the changelings near the back chittered, a slightly dopey expression coming over their face. Their eyes reflected the snow from outside, and Starlight arched a brow. When they stayed silent, she continued.

“Getting back to my point: the spell amplified the love bonds between ponies.” She blushed faintly. “It was enough to push Star Swirl and her to get a bit… romantic.” Coughing into a hoof, she brushed aside her mane.

“Imagine all the love to feed on!” the changeling muttered, catching Starlight’s attention.

Furrowing her brow, Starlight sighed. Despite the slight mirth in her voice, she glowered and grunted out, “Antenna, are you planning anything?”

“No!” the changeling yelped in surprise. Buzzing her wings, she chittered, “I was just, uh, imagining the gloves I could use with my seeds to plant in my pond!” She chuckled and scratched the back of her neck.

Starlight arched her brow. “Just like when you checked Silverstream and Gallus for ‘nits’ at lunch?”

“Yes!” Antenna replied with a vigorous nod of her head. Rotating her head to the side, she tried to face away from Starlight. “They weren’t traumatized for more than a day!”

“Gallus couldn’t be near a changeling for a week, and Silverstream claimed the ‘bugs were coming for her’ for a month,” Starlight deadpanned back. She shook her head. “That’s hardly a day.”

Shrugging, Antenna peeped back, “Okay, then they only screamed for a day.” She chuckled nervously before tapping her hooves on her desk, whistling softly under her breath. She shot Starlight an innocent grin.

A few flecks of spit flying from Starlight’s mouth, she contorted her face into a furious grimace before she sighed. In an instant, her expression stuck with just mild frustration, and she grunted, “I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear that.”

Rolling her eyes, she cried, “Anyway! The spell caused Star Swirl and Clover to fall desperately in love with one another. It didn’t last long, but, well… Luxurious was the result.” She snickered and blushed a bit more.

“Please!” a griffon declared as he brushed down some of his brown-speckled features. It almost looked like he was splashed with mud. “Like that is a believable story. Luxurious wasn’t even born until after the Pillars disappeared!”

Flexing a hoof from side to side disapprovingly, Starlight declared, “True, but it was only a few months later. Plenty of time for them to get frisky, as it were.” She paused and clicked her tongue. An idea had popped into her head.

Cackling under her breath, she grinned and sneered. It would be a perfect way to close out the school semester. Plus, it’d be something she could lord over Twilight’s head.

Muzzle curling into a sneer, she stated, “How about I ask Star Swirl? He’s just a letter away.” Without waiting, she trotted behind her desk, scribbled a quick paragraph about Luxurious’ parentage, and sent it off in a burst of cyan magic.

She rested her forehooves on the desktop and gently placed her chin on top. Swishing her tail eagerly, she stated, “And now we wait.” Before even a single murmur could be heard, there was a loud flash of magic and a bright burst of grey.

A single letter plunked onto the desk, and she quickly grabbed it. With a yelp, she rubbed her nose as another letter slapped her in the muzzle. Growling, she unfurled the first and sighed. It was just a bunch of scribbles and streaks of ink. Also, there was a giant hole through one portion of the paper, where it appeared a pen stabbed it.

Taking the second letter, she quickly scanned its contents and smirked. Holding back a snicker, she stated as she rotated the letter to face the students, “As you can see, Star Swirl is very… passionate about this subject.” She wiggled the paper and sent a few specks of ink in all directions.

She huffed when some splashed on her desk. It would be impossible to clean. Magical, impervious to fire ink was effectively unremovable. She double-checked to make sure none landed on her uniform.

After she was satisfied, she cleared her throat and began to read aloud. “Miss Glimmer,” she said, imitating Star Swirl’s gruff demeanor as best she could. She sounded like she swallowed a dozen rocks. “I know that you enjoy asking myself and the other Pillars about this rumor that I had an ‘interaction’ with Clover.” She paused and waited for her students’ response.

Some snickers softly echoed through the room, and she smirked as she started to pace behind her desk. “I assure you, however, that these baseless accusations purporting that I sired Luxurious the Lusty are just that: foundationless and without proof.”

Inwardly she chortled and muttered internally, “Tell yourself that all you want, Star Swirl.” As her hooves beat heavily on the classroom floor, she cleared her throat and went on, “The fact that Luxurious shared a nearly identical coat as I is merely coincidence. After all, many ponies of my time shared attractive veneers like myself.”

Her voice hitching, Starlight read ahead and gulped. The next few sentences were a tad… worrying. For her health, anyway. “Moreover, that all the ponies close to Clover who claimed to have intimate knowledge of a scandalous act such as that wound up banished or otherwise indisposed is merely happenstance.”

Pausing, Starlight wiped her brow and brushed her sweaty forehoof along the back of her dress. Now it was getting more interesting. “Therefore, I wholeheartedly deny any statements that I am in any way, shape, or form, related to Luxurious, and that I would form a consensual relationship with my former student, Celestia bless her soul.

“If you do not retract such statements, then I may have to inform Twilight of some irregularities I discovered in the school funds—” Starlight wrapped the scroll tightly in her magic. “Okay, I think that’s enough!” She summoned a large pillar of fire that engulfed it. There was a loud fwoosh sound as it turned to ash, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Thankfully Star Swirl used a one-way transportation spell. Her fire would be sending it nowhere.

Briefly the blackened remnants of the letter held stiff before collapsing into a pile on the floor. Stomping a hoof on it, Starlight coughed loudly a few times before she ignited her horn. A giant pillar of blue flame, at least five feet high, shot into the air.

“Sorry,” Starlight declared as she coughed into a fetlock, “I had a tickle in my throat.” She blushed nervously and glanced at her students.

Most just stared at her, and one or two eyed the clock anxiously. There were only a couple minutes left in class, so she decided she would just wrap things up.

Trotting behind her desk, she snatched a large pile of papers and let them thump unceremoniously on the surface. A chorus of groans reached her ears, and she smirked.

With a withering stare, she poked her head from behind the pile of papers and stated, “Now, I know not many of you want to do homework over Hearth’s Warming, but this will be a fun exercise!” She flicked an ear as the room remained deathly quiet.

“It’s simple!” She chortled and some of the students started to murmur quietly. “You just need to list five Hearth’s Warming traditions that bring ponies and other creatures closer together.”

She floated the papers around, each being a bundle of five pages. As Antenna got hers, she asked with a low buzz, “Isn’t that really easy? Why are there so many pages?”

“Oh, because you’ll be writing a one-page essay on each point,” Starlight quipped back nonchalantly. In return, she received a growing number of protests. Huffing, she let them whine and grumbled softly, “You’ll thank me later, especially when you have to write reports on how the magic of friendship grows.”

Holding up a hoof, Starlight declared, “Okay, you’ve made your point. You can make two, two-page essays instead.” It didn’t really calm down the crowd, but she didn’t give them a chance to speak further.

As she opened her mouth, the bell for the half-hour mark before the end of the day rang. The mass of students instantly bolted from their seats and out the door.

Author's Note:

This is a bit late for both dates for Christmas, but Hearth's Warming is a generic winter holiday that has no specific date, right?

Anyway, hope everyone enjoys.

Comments

[FoolAmongTheStars]

Can I just say that your puns are fantastic? Because they are, I found myself giggling a couple of times as I read. And reading Starlight trying to teach a class of uninterested students reminded me so much of my own experience teaching, nothing more painful than that smh. Can't wait to read the rest!

[Test4Echo]

11120817
I've always had fun making pony puns, and just some puns in general. I would say that I wrote the teaching from my own experiences as a student at points, but I think either the student or teacher can relate well to Starlight's situation.

Glad you liked the first chapter. I'm sure you'll enjoy the rest.