“Oh? You’re rather early, son.”

The voice came from a golden-brown-skinned man, who wore a cream-colored vest over his chest. His hair, another, darker shade of brown, was of medium length, and had some grey highlights at the edges. Artifex found himself most struck by the bright, periwinkle eyes that stared at him intensely.

The man was sitting at the teacher’s desk, absentmindedly rolling a pen through his fingers. He seemed bored, or at least tired, with his head leaning against the palm of his hand. But he waited, expectantly, for Artifex to answer.

The boy cleared his throat. “Right. I am, sir. This is Mr. Solil’s class, correct?”

Rather than answer, the man ceased his pen rolling. His hand reached under his desk, grabbing something. Before Artifex could ask, the man threw something at him, exclaiming, “Catch!”

Frost yelped, but managed to raise his hand. By some stroke of luck, the object landed neatly in his palm. He looked at it, confused. A breath mint?

“You like those, right? If they’re too minty, I have some others here with me,” said the man, popping his own mint in his mouth.

Artifex paused, then shrugged, and took off the wrapper and put the mint in his mouth. True to its name, it cooled his mouth. He placed it to the inside of his cheek.

“North or South District?” asked the man suddenly.

“I beg your pardon?” Artifex asked.

“North or South District, where are you from?”

“Um… neither, sir. I’m from Westside.”

The man took a second to take in his words, before sighing. “Ah, of course. That accent always throws me off. It has just the right amount of ‘north’ to sound Northern, but a touch of ‘south’ to throw us off.” He placed his hands behind him, walking over to a filing cabinet. “I grew up on the North end myself. Never thought I’d see a Westside here at this school.”

“How’d you guess I was from Manehattan?”

“Guess? I didn’t guess, son.” At this, the man wagged a finger back at him. “I concluded.”

“Uh… huh.”

“And you are correct, too. This is Mr. Solil’s room. Welcome, by the way. Why are you here so early?”

Artifex frowned, unintentionally ignoring the question. “You’re Mr. Solil?”

“Indeed, young sir.”

“I had thought you’d be older.”

“I’m younger than I look. Now, are you going to stand there and question my age-to-appearance correlation, or introduce yourself?”

He sounded a tad bit impatient, but Artifex remained mostly unfazed. “I’m Artifex Frost, Mr. Solil. I’m new here.”

“New student? Hmm. Well, good to meet you, Mr. Frost. Have a seat anywhere; we won’t be getting assigned seats until someone messes up.” Something of a devilish smirk crossed the older man’s features. “Which, if we’re lucky, will be once first period starts.”

Artifex, as he searched for a seat (he had no idea why; the entire room was empty), glanced all around the classroom. It wasn’t too large, maybe the length of a small bus, and the seats were placed neat and straight next to one another. To the far left wall was a pair of windows, overlooking the front entrance of the school. The far back wall, meanwhile, had two bookshelves, each filled to the brim with what appeared to be textbooks and a complete 26 encyclopedia set.

“Those encyclopedias must have cost a fortune,” he said aloud.

“Hmm? Oh, those?” Mr. Solil’s voice sounded disinterested, waving away Artifex’s surprise with an indifferent tone. “Not really. I got a discount for writing a few entries myself.”

“You wrote part of an encyclopedia?” Artifex turned, a smile on his lips. “Hm. There really is more to you than meets the eye.”

“And you couldn’t tell already,” responded the man with a similar smile.

Artifex then looked at the right wall as he sat in his seat. It had some posters up; they were generic ones, the ones you’d see in every classroom. Next to them was a bulletin board, with the label “Student Quotes” on top.

“Student Quotes? What is that?” he asked.

“Ah, yes. A rather unique idea, of my own creation,” Mr. Solil said. “In my years of working in the educational system, I’ve come across some students who could fill every empty page in the world with the wealth of knowledge in their own minds. I thought it’d be nice to spread that knowledge to the next batch of kids I have to teach. Besides, I’ve found that some children have more intelligence than some adults.”

“Years, huh? You must have worked at Canterlot High for a while.”

“Eh. This will be my second year teaching. Though, really, it’s my twentieth year in educational teaching.”

Artifex looked back at the Quotes board. “Do you think that this’ll be a hit?”

“Who knows? It worked somewhat last year. Maybe students have more to say this year.”

“And it’s a year-round project of sorts?”

“Not exactly. I like to call it ‘charity work.’ An interesting concept, you will agree.”

“I do, indeed.”

The mint in Artifex’s mouth was starting to irritate the inside, so he shifted it to the other side.

“You never answered why you’re here early, young man,” Mr. Solil said, raising an eyebrow at the boy.

“Oh. It’s I’ve always liked to get to my classes early.”

“Really? Well, I like that attitude.” Mr. Solil winked and smiled. “If you’re early to something, it’ll give you extra time to think.”

“That’s what a lot of Manehattanites say, isn’t it?”

“Quite right. Good advice, mind you.”

“One that you follow, I’m sure?”

“Of course. What kind of Manehattanite would I be if I did otherwise?”

Both of them shared a smile. Artifex found Mr. Solil an appealing sort. He was sharp, like a blade, and quick on reply. As Mr. Solil turned away, Artifex found himself reflecting on this. Somehow, he knew that he would like this class, and this teacher.

The mint was dissolved completely, leaving him feeling fresh.

He nearly jumped when the bell rang. Mr. Solil barely glanced over his shoulder. “Hmm. The first bell already? Time flies when you are busy preparing, I suppose.”

Yep. Definitely going to like him.

A chorus of stomps, cheers, groans, and more filled the next few minutes. Students ran past and down the hall, and Artifex could make out some of his new friends moving with them. He didn’t wave, but he did smile, even as they didn’t see him. They’ll see me later, anyhow.

He winced as he heard shoes screeching on the linoleum floors. Something—no, someone—colorful appeared in the doorway, panting heavily, her female frame bent over as she caught her breath. “Whew! Just made it!” She flicked her hair back, grinning tiredly. “Nearly got trampled by the crowd.”

Just as suddenly she had appeared, her smile faded into a gaping expression. She stared directly at Artifex. “C-Chronicler?”

He offered a wave and a small smile. “Hey, Rainbow Dash. As fast as ever.”

Mr. Solil raised an eyebrow. “Chronicler?” he asked, looking to Frost for answers.

The boy shook his head. “It’s a long story, Mr. Solil. I’ll tell you it sometime.”

“Hmph. Very well. Rainbow, why don’t you choose a seat?”

“Gladly!” Rainbow gave a winning grin, and she practically rushed to the seat to the left of Artifex. “I can’t believe we’re in the same Language Arts class!” she exclaimed. “I’m sure to get an A for sure!”

He gave her an incredulous look. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“I believe it means that Miss Dash is implying that she will cheat,” Mr. Solil spoke up. “Or am I wrong?”

“N-no, of course I wouldn’t cheat!” Rainbow protested, blushing with embarrassment. “I just meant that… well… Chronicler here could—you know—help me out!”

“I suppose Mr. Frost could. Within the realm of rules, of course,” responded the teacher drily.

Once he had turned away, Rainbow leaned in close to Artifex. “‘Mr. Frost?’” she asked. “What’s that mean?”

He whispered back, “It’s my name, Rainbow. Artifex Frost.” He quickly explained to her the reason behind his previous deception. Her face fell at his words.

“Wow… that’s a lot heavier than I expected,” she finally said. “Are… are you alright? I-I mean, you seem okay, and I don’t mean to sound like I’m assuming or anything—”

He patted her shoulder, stopping her. “I’m fine, Rainbow. It’s really thanks to you and all of the people I met yesterday that I am okay.” He gave her a smile, which, after a moment, she returned.

“Well… good to really meet you, Artifex Frost.”

“Likewise, Rainbow Dash.”