Cursing as she hit her antlers on an obscured tree trunk, Diane forcefully swept aside a dense clump of foliage that threatened to poke her in the eye. She had been amazed when the Ayabna had first brought her to one of the planet’s surviving few forests, but even that had quickly become mundane for her as she now entered her seventh week with them. As a recent convert, she had expected to start with grunt work, but surprisingly she had been put in charge of a group containing both human and ursine workers.
She didn’t know if it was a sign of solidarity, or if they had seen something in her, but in any case, she was assigned to the leader caste. It sounded more impressive than it actually was, as leaders were roughly ten percent of the population; she would consider herself more of a manager, truthfully. Besides, they had made it clear from the start to the initiates that all castes were equal.
Locating a suitable tree as she had been taught, she signaled for her team to surround it. A human took the first bite out of the geriatric old oak with his new, enlarged teeth. A throng of others joined in, grinding the thick trunk down in a precise sequence. Her charge was safety, and she watched carefully, making sure her subordinates were notching it correctly. It was an essential skill she had picked up quickly.
Whereas Diane had received antlers as a designated leader, the humans assigned to manual labor were now equipped with tails, beaver teeth and claws designed for digging. The Ayabna workers possessed these features as well, but they lacked the muscular builds and powerful claws of the explorer caste Diane was most familiar with. Truthfully, they looked more like rats than bears.
She wondered briefly where Aron and the others would have been placed were they here with her.
She shuddered.
No, it’s pointless to think like that. Aron is gone... And the others—they made their choice. They chose to fight and die to the point of folly.
She swallowed, breaking out in a cold sweat. Her remorse for those needless casualties on both sides was pushing against her conditioning. Even now, it was hard to condemn her father and brothers, for they faithfully followed protocol to the end. It still amazed her that she was able to summon the courage to defect. She wouldn’t have been able to do it without Alex.
Diane had zoned out for a bit. It was behavior that would have been cracked down on at home, but life now moved at a slower pace since they had joined their former enemy. It was a peaceful existence amid an uphill battle to break free from their indoctrination. Seeing how Rhod’s other inhabitants lived had really put things in perspective. She had been somewhat of a free thinker before, but even she was shocked at how she had been immersed in dogma every waking second of her life without even realizing it most of the time.
Once the tree had been felled, her subordinates started chopping at it with small axes. Surprisingly, this was where her real job began. If left to her own devices, she would have probably made every cut with a 2x4 in mind. However, fitting anything to a template wasn’t the Ayabna way of doing things. Instead, she had to inspect each unique tree in the diverse forest for its ideal potential use and have it cut into something the architects could use. Care was taken so that as little as possible was wasted, making it more of an art form than anything else. Since the tunnels could be dug to conform to eccentric building designs, strange shapes and curves were welcome in the wood their group brought back.
When finished, they loaded the day’s lumber into a cart and returned underground. They needed no torches as their eyes were adapted perfectly for the dark tunnels. Even deep underground, her vision was no worse than it was on the surface. Steering the group through the contours of the underground maze, she idly contemplated the extent of the mysterious magic of this society.
There was so much about the Ayabna they had been completely ignorant about—willfully ignorant perhaps. Diane could only speculate on what they had looked like prior to discovering magic, but she hadn’t dared ask. All she had learned was that there had been a Great Awakening fairly recently in their history. The shamans made frequent reference to The Great One who had brought magic to them. They often sung his praises with an enthusiasm that, while not quite on the level of worship, showed great respect. Diane couldn’t decide if he were a legend, a historic leader, or a bonafide god.
Before long, they reached the storage chamber and deposited their day’s work. Immediately her group split in two. The former Rhods congregated together, away from the ursine cliques. This saddened her somewhat, but true integration of two cultures would not be an easy matter to settle. She had made good-natured efforts to bring the sides together, but tonight the effort felt too taxing.
Returning home, she navigated a long path with few forks and found her way back to the rapidly expanding Terrestrial Quarter. Many buildings were still under construction and temporary support beams were heroically holding up the ceiling. Few buildings were yet complete, and those that had been were allocated via lottery. Having failed to pull a winning number, Diane currently resided in what was essentially a hole in the wall. Finding her humble abode, she rounded the front entrance corner of the small tunnel leading into the single room.
It was generously sized, as there was little premium on space below ground. What furniture she had she had made herself with the help of some experienced ursine carpenters. It certainly wasn’t impressive, but the plain table and bench made it feel somewhat lived in. However, this evening something was out of place.
“Prism Caller, I wasn’t expecting you,” Diane said, smiling at her friend.
Ominously, the normally friendly bear-woman didn’t return the smile. Instead she got up from her seat on the sleeping bag, propping herself up with her ornamented staff. Her expression was stern, signaling she was not here for a friendly visit, but to execute her mandate as shaman.
Her message was terse, but the words were heavy: “The Great One summons you.”
Diane froze in disbelief.
Prism didn’t wait for her to fully comprehend and walked briskly towards the door.
“Come now. Follow me.”
After lunch, Celestia took me to Canterlot University, where Giants’ Withers was serving as a guest lecturer. I ran the usual battery of tests, which I had become all too used to. She scanned me in depth with a low-intensity spell. Magic passing through me was an odd sensation—it made my fur stand on end and my hooves tingle. Mercifully, she was quick about it.
“I see,” the professor began, “you appear to be a perfectly normal unicorn colt “
“That’s it?” I complained, hopping down from the swivel examination chair.
“What about his horn?” Celestia inquired. “Will it continue to develop?”
“I’m afraid not,” the mare answered. “I theorize that because an alicorn’s horn is one of the their three tribal aspects, it remains sized to Aron’s final form. In other words: it’s effectively the horn of an alicorn filly, while his mana reservoir is that of a normal unicorn.”
Celestia was zoned in on the academic, while I was struggling to find which part to pay attention to. Bored, I couldn’t resist spinning the chair a couple of times before regaining my focus. Despite my fur, it was strangely cold in the lab. While superficially similar to Twilight’s, the equipment was noticeably more standardized; in contrast, Twilight’s machines had looked like she had built them herself. It was a strange concentration of chrome in a world with so much color, but the lab walls were an overbearing fuschia as if to compensate.
“...no simple answer, but I would postulate that his magic would be somewhere between an alicorn’s and a unicorn’s. Fortunately his mana channels are appropriately developed, so they won’t let through surges as often as an infant’s. However, I would still recommend sealing his magic.”
Celestia looked disappointed but nodded.
“Is that okay with you, Aron?”
“Yes, you know best, after all,” I snarked, still annoyed at her earlier treatment of me.
“Then I’ll perform the spell right now. It’s fairly standard. In major sporting events, it’s used to prevent unicorns in the crowd from interfering. Though it normally wears off fairly quickly, I can modify it so we’ll only have to renew it once a week.”
“That’s fine; do it,” I said, hoping to get this over with.
The princess nodded hesitantly. “I hate to deprive you of your magic, but this will keep you safe from transforming yourself with surges.”
“That’s fine. I don’t want to use pony magic anyway.”
She opened her mouth to speak but quickly closed it. Her horn glowed gold for a brief moment and I felt a fuzziness run down my horn and into the front of my skull.
“That should do it,” Celestia said.
Part of me was eager to get out of the stuffy laboratory, but objectively, I knew I should take advantage of the resource that was the professor. She wasn’t my favorite pony, but she could have answers.
“So… how long will I be like this?” I asked.
“Alas, that is the question, is it not? Your case is unprecedented, so I can’t offer any more than speculation. Nevertheless, our conventional understanding offers some guidelines. Punny Square’s law dictates that no combination of alleles can approximate the an alicorn’s omni-aspectual nature.”
“What?” I said flatly.
“An elementary explanation would be…” She put her hoof to her chin, possibly pondering how not to condescend. “Ah, I forget at times that you lack foundational knowledge. We’ve long known and observed that when ponies of different tribes mate, the offspring are usually one of the parents’ tribes. In rare cases, the foal can be of third tribe, but she is never a hybrid pony.”
“How is this relevant to me at all?” I asked, utterly devoid of tact. I put a hoof to my mouth, as if surprised at my candor.
The unicorn observed me for a moment and then smiled. “It means you will likely become an alicorn fully as your next step.”
She then looked to Celestia to explain the next part. “Aron’s wings and gaen duct will have to develop simultaneously in order for the transformation to avoid a highly unstable hybrid state. This will require a large amount of free magical energy to deflect Aron from his current stable state. Though the conflict with his magical signature will eventually overcome these stabilizing factors.”
It somehow annoyed me that she was talking about me as if I weren’t in the room.
“What about his gender?” Celestia asked. “Our lore tells us that male alicorns don’t exist.”
“I had nearly forgotten!” the professor said excitedly. “That would mean that in order for Aron to become an alicorn, his gender would have to change first.” She looked at me again. “You hear that, Aron? It will likely be several months before you’re an alicorn.”
“All right,” I cheered sarcastically. The part I dreaded most was slated to come next.
The mare chuckled in advance at her own joke. “I’m no medical doctor, but here’s my prescription for you: bind your magic, avoid infant unicorns, and stay away from powerful magical sources. I’m even nagging you like a doctor—exercise and eat your sugar while you’re at it.”
I scowled at Celestia. I half-expected she had asked her to say that.
We said our goodbyes and Celestia and I left. It was a bright and sunny day. Ponies galloped by us in the midday bustle. Occasionally, when one came too close to me, Celestia would shield me with an invisible wing. Though I didn’t like being coddled, it was a welcome gesture; I genuinely feared being stepped on, as small as I now was.
I avoided locking eyes with strange ponies for fear of them fawning. Fortunately, school had let out, so I wasn’t the only foal on the street. We made our way to a side-entrance of the castle, of which there were many. Celestia dropped her disguise and a single, wooden-faced guard opened the door for us. We climbed some velvet steps and were once more in the main hall of the palace, ponies bowing in sequence as we passed. I followed her down the main hall, which I had surprisingly never been through before. Judging by her castle’s similarity to Twilight’s layout, I guessed we would be approaching the throne room shortly.
We stopped before a heavy door.
“Here we are, Aron. I have taken considerable time off because of my ailment, but now I fear I must return.”
I was relieved.
“By all means. For a princess, you’ve been far more generous with your attention than I deserve.”
She shook her head gently but didn’t say anything. “You can watch as I hold court if you want.”
“So I can learn how to be a princess? No thanks. Besides, it may not be any use…”
“Aron, stop,” Celesita said firmly. “We are going to keep your memories from disappearing. Luna already has a way she thinks will work. We just need to iron out some of the details. Even if she didn’t, we will not let you be replaced by an entirely new filly—that’s a promise.”
How can you promise that? I thought to myself, unconvinced. It’s not like they’ve done this before. Unless....
“Princess Celestia?”
“Yes, Aron?”
“You said you were around when Princess Cadance was born. Were her parents alicorns? If so, why aren’t there more of you around?”
It was a question that weighed heavily on Celestia’s mind, but her answer seemed genuine.
“That’s a question I’ve been asked countless times, but I really don’t know. Ponies like to say I descended on a fallen star, or that I materialized after the passing of a previous princess of the sun, as if I were a phoenix. However, Cadance’s birth provides the most credible explanation—or non-explanation, depending on how you look at it. In short, she was born to a normal unicorn couple. We have no idea how it happened; perhaps we alicorns are simply born as the balance of the world necessitates. There are still many mysteries of alicorns, notably that of ascension.
“Ascension?”
Celestia paused and phrased her answer as diplomatically as possible.
“Essentially, it’s the process by which a normal pony can become an alicorn. I believe Twilight would explain that best,” Celestia offered. “After all she’s the only known pony to ever accomplish such a feat. We still don’t know how it is consistent with Harmonic Stability of Form; it is a topic of great interest to her.”
“Now,” Celestia said, radiating warmth, “there’s a pony I would like you to meet.”
On cue, a side chamber opened and a pegasus mare stepped through the door. Like all adult ponies, she now towered over me. Her wings and fur were were a blackish gray, while her mane and tail were a deep purple. At first, she bore a stiff expression, but as if remembering at the last minute to be friendly, she smiled the slightest bit at me.
“Aron, this is Star Chart.”
I glanced at her cutie mark, looking for clues. It was a piece of parchment dotted with a bright white constellation that clashed with her coat.
Fitting… Does that mean her talent is being herself?
“She will be taking care of you on my behalf as I return to my regular duties.”
“Okay,” I said, before it hit me.
“Wait, what!? You’re assigning me a nanny?!”
“No!” the two mares quickly responded, exchanging a glance.
“I’m a royal guard,” Star said with pride. “This is a highly important mission to guard you while accustoming you to our world. I will do my best to aid you, but I will not play your mother. I will expect you to hold your own and to get back up when you’re knocked down.”
I turned to Celestia. “I like her already.”
She petted my head gently with a forehoof. “I thought you would. Now then, I need to get day court started. Make sure to take some time to get to know one another.”
Though it wasn’t in my best interest, duty compelled me to remind her: “Didn’t you want me to watch?”
She smiled mischievously. “I was just testing your amenability to it. Today, I’m dealing with zoning regulations, and even the hardened members of the guard have trouble staying awake for such sessions. I wouldn’t want that to be your first impression.”
Celestia clapped her hooves together. “Well, good luck, Star Chart,” she said with a reassuring smile. “You’ll do fine.” And she slipped through the double-doors.
Her departure left the two of us in silence. Star had resumed her guardspony’s composure, while I kept my distance. This standoff dragged on for about two minutes until I decided to speak.
“So, what now?” I asked tentatively.
“You want me to plan your day for you?” she replied bluntly.
I stopped. “No, I suppose not.”
I briefly relished my autonomy before the choice completely stumped me. There weren’t too many experiences in magical pony land that I was abundantly eager to repeat. Walks outside with Trusty had been the most amenable to me, but I had just been out with Celestia.
As if reading my mind the mare offered, “However, I do have a suggestion if you are willing to hear it.”
Colts and fillies dotted the flower fields like multi-colored condiments. Organized by tribe into three rows containing occasional gaps, they faced a medium-sized gray earth pony stallion.
“All right, everypony,” he said in a chipper voice. “What are the three most important things for a guardspony?”
“Courtesy, Commitment and Courage,” the children chanted.
“Very good! Oh, it appears we have a visitor! What can I do for you, Star?”
“Hello, Stone,” Star Chart greeted. “Do you have room for one more? He just moved here, and I volunteered to help him get more involved in the community.”
“Certainly, the Junior Royal Guard is always welcoming new recruits.” He glanced at me and made a cryptic comment: “Especially when they help make our group more diverse. What’s his name?”
“His name is…”
She looked me in the eye expectantly. Clearly she was threatening to name me if I didn’t do so myself. I imagine she would be counting down from five if she possessed digits. Unmoved I glanced patiently at the ponies waiting for me to answer.
“His name is River Glade,” Star finally announced.
River Glade? I suppose that’s not too bad. I could have done worse; she could have named me something like “Blue Grass.”
“We’re happy to have you, River Glade,” the instructor said. “Get in line with the other earth ponies and we’ll get you up to speed.”
Earth ponies? Aren’t I a unicorn?
However, I let a moment of timidity pass without me objecting and felt a hoof tap on my back.
“Aron,” Star whispered. “I hadn’t thought of it but it may be for the best that they think you’re an earth pony. You can’t do any magic, and your small horn would attract a lot of attention.”
Feeling confused, I took a moment to realize that my bangs were completely covering up my horn.
“Besides, the other colts might tease you for it.”
I was slow on the uptake, but then it clicked, and I nodded in agreement.
“Well, good luck, River,” Star said. “I’ll pick you up when you are done.”
“Okay…”
Wow. She was quick to pass me on someone else, I thought, adjusting my evaluation of her slightly downward.
I slid into line with the other earth ponies. There were a total of five of us with my addition, an equal number of pegasi and a baker’s dozen of unicorns.
“Hello,” greeted a few of the children before turning back to the instructor.
“Hmph. A blank flank thinks he can become a guard?” a tall filly next to me commented, showing off her buckler cutie mark. “This isn’t a mark that just anypony can earn.”
A glasses-wearing unicorn colt in front of me heard this and turned around. “Actually, Bulwark, according to the pamphlet for this program, one-third of blank flanks achieve a pertinent cutie mark within four months.”
“Nopony asked for your opinion, Spectacle!” the vermillion earth pony scolded.
Spectacle adjusted his glasses and centered them on me. “Salutations, River Glade. My name is Thaumaturgical Spectacle. I hope to assist you in whatever capacity I can.”
I didn’t know how to respond, but fortunately the instructor chose that moment to halt the discussion.
“Now, everypony, we can get to know our new recruit later. Now, I believe I was discussing the three C’s…”
He lectured for about ten minutes. In some ways it was eerily similar to Davies lectures in form; it was just that the content was different. Stepping Stone extolled the virtues of helping everypony, making Canterlot feel safe and supporting the princesses as they served the ponies of Equestria. I expected to be bored by more pony drivel, yet somehow the contrast in ideologies was fascinating. In a way, it was reassuring to see they were just as committed to their principles as I was to mine.
I wondered if in time I would come to accept their worldview as my own. After all, was it truly odious to me in and of itself? Or was it just the forceful imposition this world threatens me with? Tuning out the lecture somewhat, I looked towards the wide blue sky. The clouds were arranged almost artistically, as they always were. In fact, I was beginning to get suspicious at the general lack of inclement weather. At home, sandstorms were a constant adversity.
Zoning in on a low, hanging cloud, I thought I saw a gray hoof for a moment. When I took a second look, Star Chart popped her head through the cloud momentarily and waved at me.
So she didn’t abandon me after all. I don’t know if I should be bothered by having a constant watch on me, or reassured. Like it or not I’m technically a child…
“Now, it’s time for practice matches! A royal guard has to be prepared for anything, including combat. As you spar, keep in mind that you are doing this so both of you can learn and be better prepared. Remember: violence is always the last resort. Now, some ponies will be more able than others, but remember: everypony learns at their own pace.
I looked around and most of the ponies were somewhat apprehensive; though a few of us were actually excited and we took the lead in following the instructor. He opened up a large wooden crate and handed out child-sized protective armor after gauging what would fit each pony. I had no trouble at all strapping on the front chest piece and the slightly heavier armor on my back. Being as small as I was, there was almost no surface area to protect, and I must have looked as ridiculous as the other ponies.
The instructor then explained the rules: “You are free to try and knock your opponent down however you like; however, do try and incorporate the moves you’ve learned here. Unicorns are free to use magic, but remember that the armor may deflect some spells. Pegasi can fly, but are limited to two seconds in the air every thirty seconds and a maximum height of five feet.”
Seems pretty reasonable. There’s no way I’m going to lose again.
Beside me, the dorky unicorn colt, Spectacle, was shivering a bit and his dark green mane was standing on end.
“Are you nervous?” I asked. “Why did you join the Junior Royal Guards if you’re scared of fighting?”
“Well… I can’t figure out what my cutie mark means,” he explained gesturing to his still-visible cutie mark of magical sparks, “so I am trying everything. Statistically speaking, my chances of an epiphany correlate with the number of new experiences I undertake. I hope my cutie mark isn’t battle magic, though…”
I started to regret starting a conversation with the colt, but I didn’t need to answer, as Stepping Stone came along to split us into pairs for sparring. I felt bad when I ended up paired with the nervous colt. The noise of his teeth chattering started to grate on me as we waited for the signal to take to opposite ends of the flower-marked arena. Deciding more small talk was the lesser evil, I remarked, “Why do we fight on flowers anyway? And why don’t they get crushed?”
Spectacle perked up slightly, clearly in his element. “That’s elementary,” he explained. “With the population of hooved species exploding in the Quaterneighry period, flowers were stomped by the very creatures that could eat them and help spread their seeds. As such, it was only natural that they would develop resilience to being stepped on in order to remain standing and better stand out to ponies.”
He wasn’t to be at ease for long, though, as the instructor called for us to begin. I wished him luck as he swallowed hard. We took to opposite ends of the ring and on the signal, I charged him without a moment’s hesitation. Panicked he fired a volley of magical blasts at me, but he wasn’t even trying to aim and I effortlessly hopped through the gaps of his attack. Locking front hooves, we engaged in a shoving match. Despite—or perhaps because of his fright, he was surprisingly strong at pushing back. Nevertheless, he had no technique whatsoever and I soon succeeded in pinning him to the ground.
We were slated for two more rounds in which I succeeded in pushing him out of the ring twice more. On the third attempt, he had started trying harder with his initial magical volley, but to my great pride, he never once connected. I was beaming. Though my body had changed considerably, my skill and reflexes had translated to this child form.
The instructor looked on, clearly impressed.
“Wow, River,” Stone said. “I didn’t expect for a colt without a cutie mark to be so strong! I’m sorry for underestimating you. Have you done this before?”
“Uhh… yes, they have a similar program from where I’m from,” I half-lied.
“Mr. Stepping Stone, can I fight someone different,” Spectacle asked gasping. “Preferably... another unicorn...”
“You can sit out if you want. You tried really hard.” He turned his head. “Bulwark can you come here?”
The tall, yellow-maned earth pony from before came trotting towards us. She had been left out as the odd-pony-out and was eager for practice.
“I want you to spar with River.”
“Against a blank-flank? You do know I’m the best here, right?”
Stone nodded. “That’s exactly why: I want to gauge River’s ability.”
“Fine…”
Without further delay, we squared off on opposite ends.
At the signal we charged at each other. Despite the armor’s spell, I could feel the initial impact. This filly, at least sixteen inches tall was clearly built strong. We locked necks briefly, but realizing my disadvantage I quickly retreated to gain better positioning. Steadying all four hooves on the ground I looked her in the eye as she taunted me.
“Scared?”
I dashed towards her once more, and we clapped our front hooves together. It wasn’t painful, but the detached sensation of hoof-on-hoof contact was eerie. Her size won out and I tumbled head-over-hooves backwards, towards the edge of the ring.
She boasted again, but I was seeing red at this point. I was determined to try and outmuscle her one more time. She came to meet me at the edge, and I circled around the edge to avoid being pushed out. She put on the brakes quickly and I started to accelerate before she could, to try to get the advantage. However, despite my head-start her momentum prevailed when our helmets collided, rattling both of us. I pushed with all my might, but this time there was no denying that she was simply stronger than me.
The filly smirked at me, clearly confident. However, just when she had pushed me to the edge, I returned her smile. She was visibly unnerved by this. Bracing my back hooves against the boundary line I tightened my grip around her. As if it was programmed into my new body, I was able to tap into muscle memory that I built as a human. Invoking a technique prepared for combat against an enemy that was much more massive than we, I leveraged her strength against her, rolled on my side and tossed her clear out of the ring with one mighty heave.
Triumphant, I scanned around the ring and noticed that the entire group had been watching. The silence was coated with both fear and awe. Embarrassed, Bulwark fled behind the crowd.
“That was quite a show, River, I’m impressed,” Stone finally said.
When it was clear that no one else had anything more to say to try and shatter the tense silence, we moved onto the next activity, still wearing our training armor. Stone split the group into three. The largest, containing seventeen ponies, was to learn some essential skills for camping and survival. The remaining six of us were split into groups of three. I got stuck with Spectacle and a yellow and black pegasus filly. Stone had taken the larger group, leaving a pair of identical unicorn mares to lead the two smaller groups.
“Now,” one of them explained, “an important part of a guard’s work is to deal with the public order. While this sounds exciting, it’s actually a lot of patient waiting.”
“We’re not going to watch paint dry, are we?” Bulwark asked, still meek from her defeat.
“No, we’re still going to have you do something productive.”
She whistled and two familiar foals stepped out of hiding from behind some sandbags.
“Blueberry and Raspberry Citrus here were sentenced to community service by the princesses. What we want you to do is get hands-on experience supervising ponies who are being reformed. After all, law-enforcement falls to the royal guard in Canterlot. One of us will go with each group. River Glade, Zephyr Zap, Thaumaturgical Spectacle, you will take Blueberry Citrus with me. Bulwark, Aurora Beam, Corpuscle Duality, you will take Raspberry Citrus with my sister, Latte. ”
We split up into our sub-groups and followed close behind the white and brown pony. It turned my mood a bit sour when I came to liken it to a bunch of ducklings following their mother, but there was no denying the accuracy of the metaphor. We had to scurry along to keep up with the brisk pace of the mare. We three cadets were instructed to tail Blueberry in case he were to try and escape. In reality, he looked far too compliant and too discouraged by his role in this exercise to consider running. Eventually, the unicorn slowed down and we were able to catch our breath a bit and converse.
“All of this for one little apple…” Blueberry grumbled. “And I get treated like a crook.”
“You do the crime you do the time,” Zap said with a playful smirk.
“An apt summation,” Spectacle said.
Blueberry looked to me for sympathy, but I had none. I still thought he got off far too easily for his petty thievery.
Soon we arrived at a nearby park. Blueberry was handed a rake and a trash bag and he began to rake the leaves into piles. He would then scoop them up with the bag and tie it off before getting another. Zap and Spectacle grew bored fairly quickly. Meanwhile, I was still amazed at the dexterity ponies had with their hooves. Would this be something I could learn quickly?
“Did you know that in some traditional earth pony villages autumn leaves are dislodged by running a race?” Spectacle asked.
“Do you know what’s still more interesting than your trivia?” Zap replied. “Watching him rake leaves for another hour...” She turned to our supervisor. “Is being a guard this boring? Because I think I’m losing interest pretty quickly. If your task is to sell me on the career, you’re not doing a very good job.”
The mare smiled at her. “How many ponies passed us since we started standing watch over our charge?”
“How would I know?” Zap asked. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“I don’t know,” Spectacle answered, curious. “I didn’t think to note such a thing.”
In my element, I answered, “Four: Two stallions, a filly and a colt. Five if you include the yak.”
“Very good. Now, what were their coat colors?” she challenged.
“Black, pink, yellow and green.”
The children were clearly impressed.
“How did you do that?” Zap asked.
“I don’t know,” I replied. “Just by paying attention?”
“Yes,” the unicorn mare said. “A guardspony must be alert at all times. Duty will sometimes require us to stand guard—big surprise huh?—for long periods of time. It’s easy to lose focus after long periods of time, so it is essential to keep your mind sharp in whatever way you can. To be aware of your surroundings. To be alert to any possible danger. This is an important skill because guards also often need to testify in the courtroom, and the more you are aware of, the more you will remember.”
She then looked to me.
“I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself. I’m Coffee Swirl. I’ve been a royal guard for two years now, Me and my sister, Latte, serve as volunteer mentors for this program.”
“I’m River Glade,” I offered weakly.
“That’s right! I thought I heard your name before.”
“What was that about being aware?” I thought to myself. Fortunately I knew better to insult a superior.
For some reason Zap and Spectacle were snickering, while Coffee was blushing.
“Did I say that out loud?”
The foals were now full-on laughing.
“Well… that’s why I’m still in training. I aspire to be an ideal guard a—and the best way to learn sometimes is to teach,” the mare stammered.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“No, it’s a fair point. It helps if you keep me on my hooves.”
I thought my insubordination would put a damper on things, but it actually provided the bit of levity we needed. Zap continued to talk to Coffee, asking for pointers, while Spectacle tried to dig up related nuggets of info to share. Coffee talked about growing up in Manehattan and how she was inspired to join the guard by a helpful traveling guardsmare. From there she asked us each what we wanted out of this program.
“I want to join the Wonderbolts!” Zap said with vigor.
“I want to find out what my cutie mark means.”
“River?” Coffee asked after a brief pause.
“Oh, uhh.. me too,” I stammered, realizing only a moment later how dumb that sounded with my lack of a mark.
“You mean you want to try earning your cutie mark?”
“Yes, that’s what I meant,” I said quickly, relieved to latch onto an explanation.
I then made a commitment to internalize more knowledge about this world. Knowing it was one thing, but having it readily available so I wouldn’t stumble as I just had would take time.
Note to self: come up with a better backstory.
“It’s impressive that you’re in this program despite not having a cutie mark,” Coffee remarked. “Though, that sure didn’t hold you back…”
“Yeah, River, that was so cool!” Zap squeed.
“Indeed,” Spectacle said, “it certainly puts my loss into perspective.”
“Aren’t guardsponies supposed to be—you know, quiet?” Blueberry asked, returning to get another trash bag from Coffee.
“No complaining, Slacker!” Zap teased.
“Slacker? You’re all standing around doing nothing; I’m doing all the work.”
I thought for a moment. “He has a good point. If we helped we could clean the park much more efficiently.”
The earth colt’s eyes glowed in gratitude for a moment.
“No,” Coffee said, “the point of his sentence is for him to do it himself. By supervising, we’re basically ensuring that justice is carried out. Though, normally, royal guards aren’t needed for such small cases.”
“Then why me?” Blueberry griped.
“You were such a convenient prop for our lesson today that we couldn’t pass up the instructive opportunity,” Coffee explained, clearly amused.
From there, the conversation withered away, but we soon filled the void by challenging each other. We tried recalling the ponies that passed, reciting features of the park without looking, and competing to see who could notice the most subtle details around us. Admittedly, I cheated a bit by immediately pointing out where Star Chart was hiding.
Finally, we finished for the day, returned to the castle and split up to head home. In my case, this meant meeting up with Star again.
“How was it?” she asked as we were heading back.
“It was—I enjoyed it a lot more than I thought I would. The lessons were overly simple, but it was nice to see some order for once in this world.”
“And was interacting with the other foals overly painful?”
“It wasn’t pleasant, but it seemed more bearable this time.”
“Good…”
“I still can’t believe you defeated Bulwark,” Star added shaking her head. “She’s third generation in a family of guardsponies and has been training for it since she was little…”
“So have I,” I countered as we rounded the stairs to get back to my room.
“Yes, but you don’t even have your cutie mark.”
“What difference does that make?”
“Earning a cutie mark isn’t just a symbolic sign of maturity,” Star explained. “Just having it enhances a pony’s natural abilities and fitness. I suppose it’s my fault for not thinking to make you a fake cutie mark. It’s unusual for a colt your age to not have one.”
The latter part of that statement piqued my interest. “Wait, what do you mean by a colt my age?”
She stopped. “My apologies. I keep forgetting that you’re not from here. I wouldn’t know how to tell you how, but just by looking at you, it’s obvious that you’re a colt in your forties.”
If their years are different than ours, how would I even start to ask how to make the conversion? I doubt this body is older than I was…
“Here we are,” Star Chart announced, opening the door for me. “I’ll fetch you some dinner from the kitchen and you can get started. Any requests?”
“Wait, get started with what?”
She gestured to a gigantic pile of books and papers that certainly wasn’t overflowing from my bedside table this morning.
As I pondered how I would even get up there, Star brought out a step stool out from under the bed. I thanked her and climbed it to reach the bed’s summit, from which I could see a note. Anticipating my request, Star walked over and read it to me:
Aron,
I respect your unwillingness to go to school, so I came to the conclusion that our only recourse was to homeschool you. Wanting to give you the best education possible, I consulted with the biggest expert on learning I know, Twilight Sparkle. She eagerly accepted the challenge and prepared a reading list for you.
Here are her expectations for the first week:
Mathematics: From Neighton to the Present: Chapter 1
My Little Alphabet Book: In full
Essential Drama: Poneo and Milliet.
Pony Law and Government: A Treatise: Pages 95-159
Pony Customs and Cultures: A Traveler’s Guide to Equestria: Chapters 2-4
A Total Idiot’s Guide to Magic (Note: This is not an insult; this popular series explains things from the foundational level.): Introduction
My First Art Book: Kindling Your Foal’s Creative Spirit: In full
Phonemes are Fun: Level 1
Ponjour!: Prench Level 1: Chapter 1
The Crystal Ponies and the Lost Empire: Chapters 1-3
Star Swirl the Bearded: A Biography: Chapter 1
Equestrian Fairy Tales: In full
And the list went on, ending with an arrow to signal its continuation on the other side.
I smirked.
Joke’s on them. I can’t read any of these.
I glanced at Star, and she had a mischievous look in her eye as she turned over the piece of paper.
At this point you are probably thinking your illiteracy exonerates you from your studies. However, Twilight made no such oversight and enchanted the books to read themselves. Your quill will also write for you via dictation. This will be essential for completing your homework.
What’s homework? I don’t like the sound of it...
I looked at the bedside table once more, and interspersed between the books were stacks of paper. Prominently placed was a stack labeled with a sticky note inscribed with a single dot. I gasped in disbelief at the stack; it was as thick as I was tall!
Twilight will come by in a week to administer your first test and check your understanding. Good luck! And remember: if you change your mind, there’s always school!
She’s not serious…
Is she?
Glancing around the classroom, I was beginning to have regrets. Why did she have to choose Canterlot First?
Blueberry Citrus was sitting with his sister near the front and wasn’t happy to see me. Pestle Mix was seated by Spectacle, and she had a hungry look in her eye. Speaking of predators there was a familiar minotaur child wearing a pink bow sitting directly in front in a desk amusingly undersized for her.
“Iron Jill is tired of waiting!” she said, banging the desk. “Who are you?”
“Oh, right, I’m....”
If Spectacle’s here, I can’t exactly use a different name…
“I’m River Glade. I’m from Neighbraska. Um…” “Hi?”