Whether it was luck, or fate, or the work of some high power, Artifex did manage to survive. He chose, ultimately, not to question it; something told him doing so would bring untold horrors unto him.

Physics hadn’t been super hard. Mr. Turner was about as eccentric as they came, but he had the charming personality to back him up. He very much reminded Artifex of those old mad scientist characters on TV, particularly the cartoons, and watching Mr. Turner teach and practically gallop around the class brought up even older, nostalgic feelings.

Following Physics, Artifex had moved on to World Language. It was a basic course, teaching a variety of languages and their particular rules. He hadn’t much of a mind for it, but found it intriguing nonetheless.

These two classes, however, had no one he knew in them. Aside from the usual icebreakers and introductions, he had no way of really getting to know any of the other students. Most of them, thankfully, paid him no heed, nor indicated any ill will towards him. Interaction remained brief, only a few words being exchanged over a simple project.

Friends were hard to come by, he reflected between classes. More often did they show up without you expecting them than not.

That in mind, he found himself walking alone as he exited World Language. Surrounded by a sea of students as he was, he found that much ironic. To think one could find a level of anonymity in a place of social interaction was… well, it was humorous in some manner. But also a bit distracting. Those thoughts made his steps slow, and his limp was no help; he had to force himself to keep an even pace so as not to be trampled by the majority.

He gradually made his way to the first floor. The crowd of students was beginning to thin, leaving him a relatively open path to his next class. A quick check of his schedule reminded him that it was Algebra. He sighed. Not my strongest course, but oh well. He rolled his shoulders, repositioning his backpack, and clutched his golden notebook in his right hand.

Upon reaching the door, he stopped. Once again, he was the first to arrive; the rest of the crowd had split off a hallway ago. He glanced inside of the room, noting the teacher, before turning and looking at the hallway’s clock. Early again, huh? Even with my slightly slower pace and limp?

It would be a few minutes before the bell rang. He chose to use that time to lean against the wall, prop his good leg up, and whistle an aimless tune for a little while.

By the time his whistling had ceased, and the bell had rung, several students had lined up behind him. Most didn’t give Frost a glance, but a few noted his being a new student right off the bat. They were quick to welcome him.

He answered all of their greetings with a short nod and a few words back, though refrained from going too much into detail. Once the bell had rung, he stepped away, opening the door and allowing the others to go in first.

Frost took his seat silently, as assigned by the teacher, a young Miss Cheerilee. Dropping his bag and slipping his notebook in, he took out his papers, folders, and pencils, readying himself for the drudgery ahead.

He waited. He waited some more. A frown formed, and he glanced at the teacher. What’s taking so long? The bell already rang.

Miss Cheerilee had a frown on her face. One of the students asked her what was wrong. “We’re missing someone,” she replied, her brow creased with worry—and also a tinge of disappointment, if Artifex was reading her right. “As usual,” she added, adding more credibility to his observation.

Both teacher and students turned their heads towards the door, as if waiting for this particular person to magically appear out of thin air. Artifex at first doubted the adverb, but after reflecting on the school, its students, and the stories behind it, he had to wonder if that adverb had a good chance of existing in reality.

Miss Cheerilee tapped her foot, a hand on her hip. “Now… if I’m timing this correctly, it’ll be in three… two… one…”

Just as Artifex was wondering if that particular number sequence was used by every teacher, there was the sound of shoes screeching on the floor, not unlike No Clue’s appearance. For a moment, he thought that it would be that boy showing up around the corner, but the resulting voice demonstrated otherwise.

“I’m sorry I’m late, Miss Cheerilee!” she exclaimed, blue ponytail hanging limply behind her. Her dress was all rumpled up, and she looked like she had been in a stampede. “It was just that I got lost in the crowd again!”

“Again, Sonata?” Miss Cheerilee, to her credit, didn’t look too angry. “Alright. Take your seat, and we’ll begin class shortly.”

“R-right.” Sonata reached around and fixed her hair. She then ran her hands down her blouse and skirt, straightening the clothing as best as she could. “There, all better!” she said once she was done, a beaming smile on her face. She took a single step in.

Her smile, for some reason, began to fade as her purple eyes scanned the room. They stopped right on Artifex. She froze on the spot, leg midway between landing and lifting, while he stared back, unsure of how to respond.

“Sonata? Sonata, is something wrong?” Miss Cheerilee followed the ex-Siren’s gaze to Frost, but remained still confused. “What is it? Is it that boy?”

Sonata began trembling, and she looked down, hiding her face. Concerned, Artifex slipped out of his seat; Miss Cheerilee didn’t bother stopping him. He approached Sonata carefully, so as not to provoke a sudden response.

“Sonata?” he called softly, still a good ways from her. “Are you alright?”

“Y-y—” she stuttered, still not looking at him. Artifex paused, ceasing his movements.

He waited with a held breath, as did the entire class. After tense seconds had passed—it felt much longer—he stretched out a hand, in offer. “Sonata, it’s me—”

“You’re back!”

He couldn’t even let out a startled cry as the girl surged forward, tackling him to the ground in a bone-crushing hug. The very force of the tackle caused them both to slide several meters back, almost hitting the opposite wall.

“Sonata!” Miss Cheerilee gasped. “What are you doing?!”

The ex-Siren paused, her hold on Frost weakening. It gave him a chance to take a breath, but before he could ask the same question, he was silenced by her hugging him even tighter. Past the pain, he could hear some of the students “oohing” at them. His face flushed.

“Oh my gosh! Chrony! You’re back!” Sonata reiterated, taking no notice of his predicament or of the class’s reaction. “And here I thought—well, what does it matter what I think? You’re here, I’m here, we’re in Canterlot High! Ooh, does that mean you’re gonna be a student here? That would be so cool!” Just when he thought she had expended all of her energy, she somehow squeezed even harder. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you again!”

I think I have a faint guess!

Artifex struggled to speak. “Sonata… you’re… strangling… me…!”

“Hmm?” She leaned closer. “What was that? Straddling?”

What?!

Artifex craned his neck and opened one eye. He was at a loss for words.

Sonata’s left leg was, indeed, straddling his right side, and if his body was signaling correctly, her right was doing similarly. It didn’t help that she had her hands on his chest, her bosom pressed against him. If his face wasn’t flushing before, now it was.

Her face remained quizzical as it stared down at him. “What’s wrong, Chrony? You’re all red! Are you sick?”

The class “oohed” again. This time, Sonata took notice, and she glanced up at the other students. “What?”

“Sonata…” Though he couldn’t see her, Artifex somehow knew that Miss Cheerilee had her palm placed firmly between her eyes. “If you would, please, look at your… position… right about now?”

If Artifex had room to exhale, he would have sighed. Poor choice of words, Miss Cheerilee.

“Huh? What do you mean?” Sonata looked back at Frost, confused. He offered her nothing in reply, choosing instead to keep still and hold his breath. Her gaze drifted downward, through the narrow space between them, then to his side. She looked at her leg wrapped around his, and gave an experimental wiggle; he was locked tightly to her.

The slow dawn of realization began to rise. “Oh. Oh… oooohhh…” She giggled nervously.

“I think,” Miss Cheerilee continued, “that it would be beneficial for all of us if you were to… remove yourself… from the student.”

“O-okay.” Sonata sucked in a breath, and tried to squirm her way out of her hug. She didn’t get far, as somehow, each movement made the position more uncomfortable, and much tighter. After several moments of struggling, she grinned sheepishly.

“Uh… little help?”

Artifex never more wanted to sigh than right now, but seeing that he couldn’t, he gave an exasperated sigh in his head. Before the poor girl could further tangle herself, he propped himself up on his elbows so that his body was no longer stuck to the floor. Gingerly, he placed his hands on Sonata’s shoulders, then, with a little help on her end, managed to push her up and increase the gap between them. It was then a simple matter of her rolling away that finally removed her legs from his.

Now, she lay next to him, somehow breathless, a grin on her face. He, on the other hand, retained a frown, and was breathing much more slowly. For a moment, his eyes were closed. Then he ran a hand through his hair, finally letting out the much-desired sigh and snapping his eyes open. He looked at Sonata with a cerulean, slightly narrowed gaze.

“Hi, Sonata,” he said, a bit of dryness in his voice.

“Ehehe… hey, Chronicler,” she responded, returning back to his initial title.

He chose not to correct her, thinking he’d explain after class. He stood up, reaching an arm back down for Sonata, who took it gratefully. Pulling her up, he left a hand on her shoulder.

“Are you better?” he asked.

“Yup! Perfectly fine!”

“Good, now if you two would please take your seats, we can now begin class,” said Miss Cheerilee impatiently.

The way she said “two” caused giggles and chuckles to rise. Artifex shook his head, red with embarrassment, while Sonata’s cheeks were stained crimson. Both walked to their respective seats, doing their best to ignore the cooing from their classmates.

Artifex sunk back into his seat. Well… I guess I was only tempting fate, thinking that nothing bad would happen. He glanced at Sonata. She met his gaze and smiled, and he looked away, still thinking.

Strange, he corrected himself. Not bad. Strange.

“Are you mad?”

“No.”

“You seem mad.”

“I’m not mad. I’m just… surprised.”

“Surprised?”

“Surprised.”

“At what?”

“At you, of course.”

“So you’re surprised you’re mad at me?”

“No, I’m just surprised at you.”

“How can you be surprised at someone?”

“It’s easier than you think.”

“So… you’re not mad.”

“Not in the slightest.”

“And you’re surprised. At me.”

“Correct so far.”

“… Why are you surprised?”

Artifex moved himself to the hallway’s wall, motioning for Sonata to do the same, allowing the other students to walk past them. With Algebra finished, they had begun walking to the cafeteria, when Sonata had begun her questioning. He took a moment to answer, thinking over what to say.

“I suppose,” he began, “it’s because of the way you acted. You were so… happy to see me. Like you were genuinely glad that I was there.” He rubbed the back of his head. “That, and, the compromising position you put us in. You do realize people are going to start saying things?”

“Pfft! C’mon, Artifex,” she responded, her lips using his name quite easily. He had made sure to explain as quickly as possible the reasoning behind the initial mystique, and she had just as quickly accepted the information, albeit with a slightly more serious outlook than usual. “Nobody’s gonna believe that! I mean, no one here really knows you!” Realizing her choice of words, she sombered up. “Uh, sorry.”

He shook his head, but wasn’t offended. “It makes sense. I’m new, therefore I have yet to be acquainted with anyone, really.”

“Right. And of course I was glad to see you!” Sonata beamed at him. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re my friend!”

Her enthusiasm was so contagious, that he couldn’t stop himself from smiling along with her. For some reason, Sonata found this strangely humorous, and they were reduced to friendly giggles.

“So, all is forgiven?” she asked him, once their laughter had died down.

Briefly, his mind flitted back to what he had said yesterday to Adagio. He smiled. “Yes. All is forgiven.”

“Good! Now, c’mon! We’ve gotta get to the cafeteria before they’re out of tacos!” She suddenly reached her arm out and grabbed Artifex’s, then began leading the way, pulling him along with her.

“Oh, wait! I want to show you something!”

“Hmm? What is it, Sonata?”

Just outside of the cafeteria, they stopped and headed out to the gardens outside. Only now did Artifex take note that, in the center, was a rather large tree. Just looking at it made him want to sit under its branches with a good book and relax.

“See, over there! Next to the tree!”

Following Sonata’s finger, he saw a lone, white, three-petaled plant, sticking up and bending over. He found himself smiling.

“See? I planted it, right where you said I should!”

In a motion unlike him, Artifex took the initiative and hugged Sonata. It wasn’t as tight as the girl’s, nor as long, but held just as much affection and meaning. She patted him on the back. “Aw! Thanks, Artifex.”

“And thank you, Sonata,” he said, stepping away. “Now. Why don’t you lead the way once more?”

“You got it!”

“Did ya have to bump into me that hard, Rainbow?”

“Sorry, Swift. But it's not my fault you were in the way while I was rushing for my next class!” The rainbow-haired athlete had the decency to look sheepish.

“Aw, is my poor Swifty hurting?” Pinkie cooed, leaning over to the blue-skinned boy. With her face just under his, he could feel her breath hitting his chin, making him blush. “Would he like Momma Pinkie to make him feel better?” she whispered coyly.

“N-now, Pinkie,” Swift stammered, “this isn’t the time for that!”

“Aw, poopie.”

Rainbow shook her head at the two’s display. How did Pinkie end up with such an awkward guy like Swift? I’ll never know.

With the last class of the first half of the day finished, Rainbow now found herself sitting in the cafeteria with the rest of her friends. The boyfriends were also included. Right beside her was Sunset, with Soul sitting next to her. In front of them were Rarity and Clyde, both lost in each other’s eyes. Fluttershy was to Rarity’s side, listening politely. Applejack, meanwhile, sat next to them, stirring her yogurt with her spoon, but appeared to be mulling something over.

“What’s wrong, Applejack?” Rainbow asked, causing the other girl to snap her eyes to her. “You’ve got a funny look on your face.”

Applejack scrunched up her brow. “I ain’t got no funny look, Dash.”

“Well, you do now,” commented Soul. “What’s up?”

She sighed. “Nothin’ really. Just thinking.”

“Thinking? What about?” Sunset asked.

“Is it a boy?” Pinkie then spoke up, smiling mischievously. “Ooh! Did our Applejack finally meet someone?”

The farmer girl raised an eyebrow. “Really, Pinks? Second day of school and I suddenly and magically have a boyfriend? Right.”

“So it is a boy!”

“No, it’s—nevermind.” Applejack released a hefty sigh, then turned away. “Ah’m just… remembering something I heard yesterday.”

“Really now?” Rarity intoned, looking past her boyfriend. “Well, forgive me for being so nosy, but what is it that you heard?”

Applejack visibly hesitated. “Uh… Ah’m not sure Ah’m the one to be telling you. Ah mean, he didn’t really make me promise not to say anything, but—”

“So it is a guy—”

“Not the point, Pinkie,” Sunset interrupted, shushing the girl. “Look, Applejack, if it makes you uncomfortable, we won’t ask about it. Alright?”

“Well, that’s mighty kind of ya—”

“Actually, Sunset,” said Rarity, “I think it would be better if Applejack did tell us what was wrong.”

“What?” The former pony gave the fashionista an incredulous look. “Why?”

“Now hold on just a minute—” Applejack tried to say.

“Well, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t the least bit curious. And you’d be, too, I’d imagine.”

“I am curious,” Sunset admitted. “But that doesn’t mean that we have the right to pry.”

“I’m with Sunset on this one,” Soul said. “Whatever is AJ’s business is her business.”

“I’m with them on this, too,” Clyde said. “Sorry, boo. We shouldn’t push if Applejack’s uncomfortable.”

Rarity pouted, but after a moment, her face relaxed into a concerned frown. “Alright,” she relented. “But, Applejack, darling, I can’t help but notice you look uncomfortable either way.”

Applejack’s brow furrowed, but her frown had lost its intensity. Now she simply looked tired. “Well… I suppose I can tell you somethin’.”

“You don’t need to do that—” Sunset tried to say, but Applejack raised her hand.

“Ah appreciate it, sugarcube, but… well, this is important. And y’all deserve to know.”

She took a breath to steady herself. “It’s… it’s about Chronicler.”

Their voices moved to hushed tones, and they all leaned in close, wanting Applejack to say more. But the farmer girl refused, crossing her arms and looking away. She already looked like she was regretting her decision.

“What? That’s it?” Pinkie asked.

“It’s… it’s a personal thing, okay?”

Something clicked in Rainbow’s head, and she whispered, “It’s about his sister, isn’t it?”

“Sister?” everyone else but Applejack asked. The farmer girl looked at Dash with surprise.

“How’d you guess?” she asked.

“He told me this morning.”

“Wait! He’s here?” Swift asked, shooting up and nearly causing Pinkie to topple.

“Chronicler is in our school? As a student?” Clyde stared at Rainbow with incredulity.

She nodded. “Yep, he’s here, all right. I had him for Language Arts with Mr. Solil. But that’s besides the point.” She looked back at Applejack. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

The other girl sighed. “Yeah, you are. Guess I can tell the whole thing, can’t I?”

“Actually, no.”

“No?” the rest of the group echoed, save for Fluttershy.

Rainbow rubbed the back of her head. “It’s just like Applejack said. It’s a personal thing. If you want to find out, you can try and ask him yourself.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” said Rarity, moving away from Clyde and placing her chin on the palm of her hands. “Still, though… would that be wise? If Applejack is uncomfortable saying it, wouldn’t Chronicler feel the same?”

“Maybe. But then why did he tell me?” Rainbow countered.

“Maybe he trusts you more,” Pinkie said. “Or… maybe he thought you could keep a secret!”

Rainbow thought on that. Chronicler—Artifex, she mentally corrected herself—hadn’t seemed wanting to have that particular piece of information hidden. He had smiled with confidence at her, reassuring her it was alright. With that in mind, she doubted he intended for it to be a secret.

“Still,” she said, after thinking hard, “it’s not my place to say more. Once again, you’ll have to ask him. Whenever you next see him, that is.”

Rarity sighed. “So after lunch, then.”

“Actually…”

Suddenly, Soul craned his head. He stood up slightly, looking at the far end of the cafeteria. “Uh… actually, you might be able to ask him now.”

While the others didn’t get up as Soul did, they did crane their necks and look towards the doors. Sonata was there, her hand held out behind her, as if pulling someone along. Once she had entered the cafeteria, they could see who was behind her.

“Icy-blue hair?” noted Sunset.

“Yellow jacket and black-and-white-striped shirt,” said Soul.

“Blue jeans and smokey-grey shoes,” Fluttershy added.

Applejack looked at Rainbow, then back at the boy and the Siren. “Definitely him.”

“Yup!” Pinkie said cheerfully. Suddenly she stood, raising a hand to her mouth and the other up in a wave. “Hey, Chrony! Over here!”

“Gah! Pinkie, that’s not—” Rainbow’s protest came too late, as the rest of the cafeteria was rendered silent by the party girl’s cry. Pinkie remained unfazed, smiling just as brightly as ever, even as Swift struggled to pull her down.

The boy’s eyes zoomed in on Pinkie. Even though he was a great distance away, Rainbow could tell that he was surprised. But the frown that was quickly forming on his face worried her.

Sonata blinked, pausing mid-step. “Oh, hey! That’s Pinkie! Guess that’s our cue!”

“I guess so,” Artifex replied, rubbing his wrist nervously. He saw what he was doing, and stopped. I should really get out of that habit, he thought, dropping his hands to his pockets.

While Sonata easily bounced and bobbed, even occasionally weaving around people happily, Artifex acted on the opposite spectrum. He tried to avoid making eye contact with anyone, focusing instead on Sonata and the table. He hoped no one would bother him.

Much to his mild surprise, no one did, and he reached the table with little more than the lingering effect of curious—but not altogether cruel—eyes. Pinkie and Swift slid over, providing room for two. Sonata slid in first, practically dragging the boy down with her. To his relief and her continued but innocent obliviousness, neither ended up on top of the other in a precarious position.

At first, no words were spoken. Artifex himself deigned to keep silent, even as everyone’s eyes unintentionally fell onto him. He glanced at them, apprehensive. Who would be the first to speak?

“Um… hi, again,” he said, before mentally slapping himself. Real smooth, Frost.

“Hi, Chrony!” Pinkie responded cheerfully. Her words bolstered some amount of response, and those who had both already seen and not seen Frost gave their own forms of greeting.

He shifted in his seat, unsure of how to continue. He decided to point out the glaring obvious. “Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“What look?” asked Pinkie, tilting her head.

Gesturing with his hands, he answered, “Like you’ve all seen a ghost. Or…” He frowned. “Like you’ve heard something bad.”

Rarity cleared her throat. “W-well, dear, Chronicler, it… it’s not bad, I don’t think. We were just… curious.”

“Yeah,” Swift said. “Curious.”

Artifex cocked an eyebrow. “About?”

The blue-skinned boy attempted to explain by way of hand gestures, but Artifex failed to understand his meaning. His eyebrow lowered, and his frown became contemplative, as he worked his brain to understand. Eventually, given Swift’s awkward silence and the rest of the group’s half-lidded expressions, Artifex intervened with a shake of his head. “Sorry, Swift. I don’t understand what you’re signing. Maybe if you use your words.”

“Oh!” Swift blushed, then nodded. “R-right, sorry about that. Anyway, we were curious about your sister.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Artifex saw Rainbow and Applejack stiffen. Their eyes moved to him, and he glanced back evenly.

“My… sister,” he repeated.

“Yeah!”

“And… how did you learn about… her?”

“Oh! That’s easy,” Pinkie said, smiling. “Rainbow and Applejack were telling us all about her!”

He looked back at them, his face a mask of settled emotions. “Really now…”

The two girls were the only ones who caught on to his tone. The others remained as curious as ever. Sonata watched the boy and the pink-haired girl, giving Artifex a squeeze on his shoulder.

“Well, not really,” Pinkie corrected herself. “AJ started telling us how this thing you told her was something personal, and then Rainbow correctly guessed it was about your sister, and then before they could explain further, you showed up, and I called you over—”

“Yes, I was there for the last part. So they didn’t tell you about…?”

“About your sister? Nope! Both said we ought to ask you instead!” She narrowed her eyes. “Unless they were lying and you don’t actually have a sister?”

“No, no… I have one.” Strangely, Artifex didn’t feel angry at either of the girls for effectively telling the others, or at least prompting this questioning. Sonata knew, they knew; was it really that hard to imagine that the others would find out? No, he was not angry; but he wasn’t happy, either. He felt drained of energy. It was a wary tired, the kind you got after telling the same thing over and over again, knowing that nothing would change it.

He blinked, and saw red. He blinked again, and was greeted by Pinkie’s smiling face. He bit his lip, carefully moving past whatever it was that was afflicting him.

“Really?” Pinkie said, her smile widening even further. “That’s great! Can we meet her? Is she older?”

“The second one I can answer. Yes, she is older. By about seven years. As to if you can meet her…” He trailed off, looking back at the table. “Not exactly.”

“Not exactly? What do you mean?”

Why am I beating around the bush with this? It’d be so much easier just to tell them straight off… right?

“Well, you can, that’s what I mean, but you also can’t.”

“Why? Ooh, is she like from another dimension? One that we can’t visit?”

“What, like me?” Sonata spoke up. “Or like Sunset?”

Like Sunset? What does that mean? He turned to the amber-skinned girl. “What does she mean by that?”

“She means that I’m from the same world Sonata and her sisters are from: Equestria.”

“Equestria?”

“I’ll explain later.”

He nodded to himself, supposing that was fine. Then he turned back to Pinkie. “No, she’s not extra-dimensional, or anything like that.”

Just tell them already! Why won’t you tell them?!

“Okay?” Pinkie tilted her head. “So, where is she? College?”

“She would have been…”

“She dropped out before she went to college? Or she dropped out of college? Is that why we can’t meet her? Because you’re too upset, or ashamed, or—”

“I am not ashamed of Ruby Frost!” Artifex exclaimed, slamming his palm on the table. Pinkie yelped, and the others, save for Sonata, skirted instinctively away. Artifex closed his eyes, attempting to slow his breathing. He kept them closed tight, and counted to ten three times.

“… Sorry, Pinkie,” he said, voice suddenly soft. “That was wrong of me.”

Pinkie shook her head. “It’s alright, Chronicler. That slipped out of my mouth. I’m sorry, too.”

A moment of silence passed between all eleven of them, each person scooting slowly back over to their original position. Artifex sensed that each had figured out that his sister was a sensitive topic for him.

He felt something slip into the palm of his hand, something thin and papery. Opening it, he read the message: “You don’t have to tell them if you’re uncomfortable.” He recognized it as Sonata’s handwriting; where she had gotten the pen, paper, and the speed to write so quickly, he didn’t know. He gave her a look out of the corner of his eye, but said nothing, folding back up the paper.

“… So her name is Ruby, huh?” Rainbow asked, trying to start the conversation up again (this time without unintentionally antagonizing Artifex). “That’s pretty neat.”

He let out a breath. “Yep. She’s the one with the ordinary, non-Latin name in our family.”

“Wait,” Applejack asked, leaning in, “‘Chronicler’ is a Latin name? That ain’t no Latin name Ah’ve ever heard, even if I haven’t heard that many.”

Artifex brought his palm to his forehead. “Of course I make things even more complicated,” he muttered. “No, ‘Chronicler’ is not a Latin name. It’s…” He sighed. “Damn it, I can’t even say this without finding some level of incredulity in it.”

At the tilt of his head, he saw looks of understanding cross Sunset’s, Soul’s, Rainbow’s, and Sonata’s faces.

He looked back down, contemplating his next move. He stared at the wooden furniture for a solid thirty seconds, not moving, not blinking.

Then, he exhaled again, a heavy exhale, and straightened up. “… In order to explain any of what I am saying, I’ll have to be very, very truthful with you all.”

“Weren’t you already?” Clyde asked, but Artifex shook his head.

“Not quite.” His breathing hitched, as he tried to think of some smart way to speak, but came up with nothing. Another sigh escaped his lips. “I’ve no easy method of saying this, so I’ll put it as bluntly as I can. ‘Chronicler’ isn’t my real name.”

A chorus of “Huh’s?” and “What do you mean’s?” rang around him, but he refused to address them at the moment. Instead, he lowered his hands to his lap. His fists clenched twice, then relaxed. He breathed in, and out; and in, and out again, until he was sure he was calm enough to speak.

“As for my sister…”

His next few words he had no idea where they came from. Perhaps from some book, or an old lesson. Maybe it was his sister. Maybe his parents. Or maybe it was something he had learned a long time ago, and was only now just beginning to welcome back into his life.

“The first place the dead go… is the heart of someone else.”

Thus, he began his tale.

They were all quiet as he finished with a downturned head, his body slouching over the edge of the table. For a second, he recalled he hadn’t eaten lunch; but his appetite was virtually nonexistent, and he didn’t want to tempt it. Glancing around, he noticed that the meals of his friends remained either half-eaten or not completely finished, set to the side like they weren’t necessities.

He straightened his back, suddenly thankful for the rest of the cafeteria’s noisiness. He wanted to keep this as close as possible. If the entire school learned about it… well, maybe they would learn about it, in the future, at least. But for now, they couldn’t. He didn’t want them to.

As he straightened up, he felt a hand grab his. Looking down, he saw that it was a teal hand wrapped in his tan one. A flick back up showed it to be Sonata. She gave him a quick squeeze, staring at him with her wide, comforting eyes, before letting go and retracting her hand.

Artifex then looked all around him. All of them had looks of both pity and shock. Rarity, Fluttershy, and Sunset had one hand over their mouth, presumably because they were left gaping at this new information. Applejack and Rainbow, while not indifferent, were harder to read. They avoided making direct eye contact with him. Soul, Clyde, and Swift, meanwhile, were visibly troubled; each had their own form of furrowed brow and neutral frown on their faces.

Briefly, Artifex wondered if there was any sort of humor in this situation. Maybe dark humor, he thought, but did not internally nor externally chuckle.

Pinkie was the only one he hadn’t looked at, so he turned to her. To his own surprise, her hair had rapidly deflated into thin strings that hung down from her head to her back. It was slight, nearly imperceptible, but he did see her shaking. Her lips trembled, and her eyes were closed. Was she angry he had kept this all to himself? Or…

It’s not too bad, is it? I’ve gotten over most of it… recovered a good deal lot…

The voice in his head matched his feelings: uncertain.

“It’s all true, isn’t it?”

“Hmm?” He looked back over to the other end, seeing that Fluttershy had removed her mouth and was staring intently at him. She appeared waiting for an answer.

He nodded once.

“Oh…” Fluttershy looked away, before her own lip began to tremble. “That’s awful…”

His mind flickered back to some years ago. “It was,” he muttered, thinking that “awful” was a rather light term in retrospect. Would a better one be “soul-shattering?”

“Why didn’t you tell us this sooner?”

Sunset’s voice. He looked to her. Her own hand was placed down at the table, and her mouth had contorted into a worried frown.

“Was I supposed to?” he asked back.

“I guess not,” Sunset said. “But… no, you’re right. This…” She waved her hand aimlessly. “This isn’t something you go around telling people.” He noted her stern look directed to Rainbow and Applejack.

“It’s no one’s fault but mine,” he said, trying to drive the blame away. “You were bound to find out some time. It’s only natural.”

“How can you say that?”

The voice was tiny, and very much unlike the party-girl he had come to know. Looking back around his shoulder, he saw Pinkie suddenly up close to him.

“How can you say it’s all your fault?” she repeated, this time much more strongly. “How can you say any of this is your fault?”

“Because it’s my secret. My burden—”

“It shouldn’t be!” she exclaimed. “I-I-W-We should have noticed right away! Th-that you were hurt!”

“You did, remember?” He lifted his forearm, pulling slightly back on his sleeve, making his point.

“Y-yeah, but we didn’t know why!” she wailed. Before he could react, she rushed forward, wrapping her arms around him and crying into his shoulder. “And-and that’s not right! We’re your friends! We’re supposed to know when you’re not okay!”

He had no idea what to do at first. How could he? He could have anticipated pity, or compassion; but open sobbing? And from Pinkie, no less.

To be fair, we weren’t exactly friends until later on yesterday… I shouldn’t say that. It wouldn’t help.

What would Ruby do?

“Swift, if you would, please…”

Swift understood the fragmented message, and gently pried Pinkie off of Artifex. She didn’t let go, however, leaving only a gap between them. Swift looked to the other boy, who nodded.

“Pinkie.” Voice as calm as a settled lake, he requested that the girl look at him. She obliged, through teary eyes and sniffles. “Listen very closely, okay?”

“Okay…”

“… Now… I don’t claim to be some expert in all… well, whatever this is… but there is something I want you to understand. Sometimes, in a friendship, you find out things you never thought you found out. Like if a person prefers cats to dogs. Or if he or she likes band A to band B. Who this person votes for, which dressing they like. Sometimes…” He paused. “Sometimes it’s something deeper. Something secretive. Something so radically different that you’re thrown for a loop, and might feel like you should have known earlier.

“But that’s not the important part of learning these things. It’s what you do with it that counts. How you judge it, think about it…” He paused again, feeling his words come from his heart. “How you live with it.

“If you know everything about a person, what’s the point of even getting to know them? If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you can’t predict everything. And you shouldn’t push yourself to be able to predict and know everything there it to know about someone.”

Ceasing his words, he allowed himself a quick chuckle. “And now I’m rambling. Like I said, I’m no expert. I don’t even know if what I said even made any sense.” Turning serious once more, he continued, “The point is, Pinkie, all of you actually; you can’t blame yourself for not knowing the why’s and what’s. That was my choice to make. And it’s my choice to live with. So don’t feel bad for not knowing. You couldn’t have. You weren’t meant to.” He then looked back at Rainbow and Applejack.

He smiled. “Luckily for me, friends tend not to fall into that level of predictability.”

He turned back to the pink-haired girl. She had noticeably calmed down, and her hair was starting to puff up again. Judging by her neutral expression, she was listening intently. “Am I making at least some sense, Pinkie?”

“Yeah, I think so.” She smiled, as her hair finally recovered its usual shape. “Thanks, Chronicler.”

He wagged a finger. “Artifex,” he corrected.

“Right, Artifex.” She beamed. “Hey! Maybe I should throw you a ‘Real-Name-Party!’”

At a glance back at Sunset and Soul, he saw them giggle, and he gave a knowing roll of his eyes. “Not today, I hope.”

“How does this weekend sound?”

“That sounds great, Pinkie.”

“Super! Swift, can you come by early to help?”

“S-sure thing, Pinks!”

“Even better! Ooh, you two are the best!” Somehow reaching around both of them, she brought them in for a double hug. Artifex nearly bumped his head against Swift’s.

“Well, she’s back to her usual self,” he said to the blue-skinned boy.

“Yup. Thanks, Artifex.”

Pinkie eventually released her hold on them, before pivoting around for her backpack and taking out a small notepad. “Let’s see… I’m gonna need balloons, streamers… what kind of cake do you want? Oh, that’s right; mousse! Chocolate! Good choice…”

As she continued planning, Artifex turned back to the others. “That,” he said, referring to what he said to Pinkie, “goes the same for all of you. It’s not your fault. Okay?”

“Okay,” they all said, returning him smiles of their own.

Rainbow reeled him in with her arm, tapping him with a fist. “Dang, Artifex. You’ve got mad speech skills. Did you come up with all that on the fly?”

“I guess I did.”

Rainbow laughed. “See? You should totally write Celestia’s announcement speeches from now on!”

Artifex would have answered, but a low grumbling interrupted him. Suddenly he remembered very clearly the fact that he had no lunch with him. He checked his back pocket, letting out a sigh of relief as he realized his wallet was there.

“Hold the fort, guys. I’ve the munchies.”

“Hey, me too!” Sonata exclaimed. “Let’s go together!”

Before he could either agree or protest, she pulled him off the table and dragged him away towards the lunch line. Luckily, the period had yet to end; maybe fifteen minutes were left. Enough time to eat, and reflect.

No Clue cursed. He was late. He had to stay behind for his last class—which was Chemistry—because the teacher wanted to get to know him better. Not that he minded; the teacher was very nice. Mr. Star Swirl, he remembered.

It was just that he stayed behind far longer than he intended. Sure, it was technically a free block, and he liked Mr. Star Swirl, but now he was late for lunch. And thus, late for his invitation.

The only good thing to come out of this was the fact that he had packed a pre-made lunch, which he ate along the way. Mmm… potato salad… wait, what?

Nearing a trashcan, he spat out the piece, then looked at his lunch. “I thought this was chicken I packed!” On the underside was a sticky note, saying “Out of chicken, used potato.”

He sighed. “Of course. Oh, well, might as well finish it.”

He ate quickly, wiping his mouth with a napkin, before dumping both the wrapper and napkin into another garbage can. By and by, he reached the cafeteria’s entrance.

As he entered the doors, his eyes landed on a certain, rainbow-haired girl. She immediately saw him, and waved him over. Eagerly, he walked towards them.

His eagerness fell as he realized he knew no one next to Rainbow. Looking around, he then realized that Artifex wasn’t there. Is he late, too? I thought he’d be the punctual type.

“Hey, No Clue.” His ears perked up at the sound of Rainbow’s voice. “Nice to see you again.”

“Nice to see you, too, Rainbow Dash. Can I sit down?”

“You sure can!”

The two people next to Rainbow—an amber-skinned girl and a silvery-white-haired boy—scooched over, allowing Clue to sit down beside them. He fought down his blush as he realized his close proximity to the athlete.

“Is this a friend of yours, Rainbow?” an alabaster-skinned girl on the opposite side asked. Next to her was a grey-skinned boy; judging by their arms around each other, they were likely very close.

“Yup! No Clue, meet Rarity and Clyde,” Rainbow responded, pointing to the pair.

“Nice to meet you,” Clue said. He couldn’t help but notice how absolutely fair Rarity looked. Clyde’s one lucky guy.

“Nice to meet you, too, No Clue,” Clyde said, while Rarity smiled back.

“Next to me,” continued Rainbow, “is Sunset Shimmer and her boyfriend Soul Writer. Say hi, you guys!”

“Hi there!” Sunset greeted with a wave.

“Hey,” Soul said.

No Clue nodded back. Another couple?

“Next to Rarity is Fluttershy.” Rainbow pointed to a butter-yellow girl with light, pink hair. The girl eeped and hid behind several strands. “Er, she’s… well, she’s shy.”

“Hello,” Clue greeted, trying to appear reassuring. “Nice to meet you.”

“N-nice to meet you, too, No Clue,” the girl responded quietly, before ducking back behind her hair.

“And, over to your right, we have—”

“Hi! I’m Pinkie Pie! Nice to meet you!”

Caught off guard by the pink-haired girl’s exuberance, No Clue nearly jumped into Rainbow. He, thankfully, had his legs hooked under the bench seat; he only jumped a little before landing back down with a pain-filled wince.

“Uh, hi,” he endeavored to say. “You’re… awfully excited.”

“Am I! I love making new friends!” Pinkie suddenly gasped. “I know! You should come to the party on Saturday! It’ll be like a double party event!”

“Uh, what? A party, this Saturday? Why?”

Pinkie bounced away, somehow ducking under the table and returning to her normal seat. Now Clue could see that beside her was a blue-skinned male, who looked about as exhausted at Pinkie’s display as he was. The boy scooched a little closer to answer. “Pinkie does that. She throws parties for every new student. I’m Swift Justice, by the way,” he added, holding out a hand.

No Clue took and shook it. “That’s really nice of her,” he commented. “I don’t think I’ve ever been invited to a party like that before.”

“So! Why don’t you tell us a little about yourself, No Clue?” Rarity asked, prompting him to turn back to the others.

“Sure, why not?” With that, he quickly summarized what he had said in his first class, revealing that he had moved around a lot, and hadn’t had much of a chance to make permanent friends. Thankfully, with the job his dad had being stable, it seemed he would be at Canterlot High for longer than initially expected. Meaning that—

“You’ll be able to graduate with all of us!” Pinkie exclaimed, once again by the boy’s side. “That’s great, Cluey!”

“‘Cluey?’”

“It’s a nickname that I came up with! Do you like it?”

“Yeah, I think I do.”

“Super! Okay, what’s your favorite kind of cake?”

“Well, I…”

As No Clue continued to talk with Pinkie, Rainbow turned to the others. “Hope you guys don’t mind having a few extra guests at our table. It was kinda last minute,” she added, rubbing her head.

Rarity nodded and smiled. “It’s fine, dear. Besides, we’d already invited Chronicler over yesterday. Or, Fluttershy did. But either way, it’s no problem. Right, girls and guys?”

“Right!” they echoed back.

Rainbow was about to say something further, when No Clue let out a short “ahem.” Turning to him, she asked, “Yeah? What’s up?”

“Uh, Chronicler? Who’s that?” Clue furrowed his brow. “I thought you invited Artifex over. By the way, where is he?”

“Oh, right.” Rainbow waved a hand. “It’s nothing. We just knew Artifex as Chronicler first off, but today we learned that his name was really Artifex.”

“That sounds really convoluted.”

“Does it?” Pinkie cocked her head. “Makes perfect sense to me!”

“So, what, is Chronicler like his nickname?”

“Not exactly,” Rainbow said. “It’s something more personal than that.”

“Really? What do you mean?” No Clue paused, then continued, “Is it like some sort of internet monicker? Oh, no… is Artifex like those super-edgy tough guys on the internet that take things too seriously?”

“What? No, no! Nothing like that! Artifex is… well, he’s Artifex!”

“So why was he called Chronicler—”

“Oh, hey! Look, there they are!” Rainbow interrupted, pointing to the lunch line. “Scooch over, Clue; we gotta give them some space!”

“Uh, okay? Could you move over, Swift?”

Once he had moved over enough, Rainbow let out a breath of relief. Thank goodness… I know Artifex wouldn’t really mind me telling someone about himself, but it still feels like he should be the one telling No Clue the truth about himself. She looked at Applejack, and the two shared a mutual nod. Guess that makes us in agreement. Together, they waited for Artifex to arrive.

“Sonata… did you really have to get so many tacos?”

“Of course! I didn’t want to miss out on them!”

“You do realize that, in doing so, you’ve effectively created a taco shortage in the cafeteria, right?”

“So? Not my problem until tomorrow!”

“That… seems highly irresponsible, but alright.”

While Sonata carried a tray with many tacos on it, Artifex had opted instead for a simple PBJ sandwich. It hadn’t cost him much, and he wasn’t that hungry either way. Lunch hadn’t been his biggest meal for the better part of his life. Seeing Sonata look eager at the prospect of eating all of the tacos made him wonder if it was her biggest meal.

Hmm… for a Siren, she sure has some strange eating habits. Sorry, ex-Siren, he mentally corrected himself. In retrospect, she isn’t really what I’d think an ex-Siren would be.

Sonata led the two of them back to the table, skipping happily along the way. Artifex mostly followed, but his gaze wandered over the rest of the cafeteria. Seeing the students no longer stare brought him great ease.

Something flashed in the corner of his vision: it was orange, and large, but seemed to vanish the moment he blinked. He shrugged it off as him just seeing things.

“Hey! There’s another guy at our table!”

“Hmm?” He craned his neck, looking at where Sonata was looking. “Oh, that’s No Clue. He’s a classmate Rainbow and I met back in our first period class. She actually invited him.”

“Really? That was nice of her!”

“Yes, real nice.” Artifex smiled to himself, replaying in his head the image of Clue blushing.

“But what’s with his name? It sounds kinda mean.”

“He made it up himself. For the full story, you’ll have to ask him.”

“What, you can’t tell me?”

“Well, I could…” He grinned, a bit devilishly. “But it makes for a better story if he says it.”

“Oh, alright.” Sonata huffed, but conceded defeat. “Let’s go meet him, then!”

In only a matter of minutes, they reached the table. A space had opened up for them, settled between Rainbow and Clue. Sonata took the place by Rainbow’s side, while Artifex slid in after.

“Hey, No Clue,” he greeted. “Nice to see you again.”

“Nice to see you, too. Who’s that girl with you?” He lowered his voice. “Is she your girlfriend?”

“Not this again… no, she’s just a friend. Say hi, Sonata.”

“Hi Sonata!” said the ex-Siren, giving a friendly wave. No Clue returned it.

Artifex unwrapped his sandwich and, after a quick inspection, dug in. He ate quickly and quietly, attempting carefully not to make a mess, while Sonata dug loudly into her own meal. He finished in mere moments, swallowing the bread and jelly. That should tie me over well enough.

“Dang, you sure ate that fast. Did you have breakfast?” commented No Clue. “I mean, you didn’t look at all hungry in first period, but you never know.”

Ah… crap. He didn’t fully blush, but he did look away in embarrassment, only to be met by Sonata’s waggling eyebrows. He then looked down, a full-on blush settling on his face.

“Hey! Arty’s blushing!” Pinkie said.

Sonofa… With a glance at Sunset and Soul, his fears were realized—they were laughing. He resisted the urge to slam his head on the table, but did let out a groan.

Just call me Mister E. S. P., because I am psychic…

With No Clue’s arrival and Artifex and Sonata’s return, lunch ended sooner than expected. The group of friends packed their belongings, then exchanged their momentary goodbyes.

“Bye, Arty! See you later!” Pinkie called as she and Swift walked away.

“Yeah, yeah.” Artifex waved back, slightly exasperated. He glanced back at Sunset and Soul, glaring at them. “Not. A. Word.”

They nodded, but smiled and giggled anyway. Artifex rolled his eyes. Great. That’s my new nickname.

He found himself, now, with Sonata, No Clue, and Rainbow left over from the group. “Hey, Artifex,” Rainbow called, “what’s your next class?”

“I don’t remember. Let me check.” Artifex dropped his bag on the table, unzipping it and pulling out his notebook. The pen was still attached. He opened the notebook, shifting through the pages until he found the small slip of paper that was his schedule. With his index and thumb, his took it out.

He heard No Clue whistle. “Dang, you write a lot, dude. Is that your book of stories?”

On instinct, he shut the notebook. The action was not lost on Clue, who gave him a confused look. He cleared his throat, trying to save face. “More like a journal, really.” He turned back to Rainbow while opening his schedule. “Let’s see here… it says I have History class. Second floor.”

Rainbow nodded. “You’d better get going, then.”

“Right. See you later, Dash.”

“You too, Frost.”

Grabbing his backpack once more, he slung it over his shoulder and began heading for the exit. The others followed. Once they had reached it, Sonata suddenly reached around and grabbed Artifex into a simple hug. No words were spoken, but when she pulled away, Artifex saw she had a serene smile on her face, one that he couldn’t help but mirror.

“Bye, Arty!” His smile faded the moment she said that. Before he could refute her, she was gone, vanished into the throng of students. Looking around, he saw that Rainbow had done much the same.

Most of the crowd appeared to be heading in the direction opposite of his destination, and it was still rather small in size. In a short while, the halls were spacious enough for him to get a move on.

“Uh, mind if I walk with you? My class is on the same floor,” said No Clue.

He glanced at him, then back down the hall. “Sure.”

No Clue fell in line beside him, and together they traveled down the hallway, heading for the stairs.

For a good while, they walked in silence, passing the other students without so much as a word. Artifex in particular kept himself composed, his mouth in a thin, neutral frown, while he walked at a brisk pace. Yet for all his composure, he failed to completely mask the lingering effects of a fading limp; something, he was sure, that No Clue, if his name was not in coordination with his observation skills, would surely have picked up on by now.

At first, the mental prediction seemed to come true, as No Clue cleared his throat. Both boys stopped their trek, and Artifex looked at Clue.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Can… can we talk about your—”

Here it comes…

“—notebook?”

Artifex cocked his head. “My… notebook?”

“Yeah. I was just curious why you shut it so suddenly.”

Artifex said nothing for a few seconds, staring the other boy down. No Clue rubbed the back of his head, squeamish.

“What do you mean?” Artifex decided to ask. “I was done looking for my schedule.”

“Yeah, you were, but you closed it really quickly. Like a snap-and-shut kind of motion. If I didn’t know any better, you closed it because you didn’t want me to see something.”

Artifex’s silence betrayed him. “No,” said Clue, backing up, “seriously?”

The icy-blue-haired boy avoided his gaze. “Why, though?” Clue asked. “It can’t be all that bad, can it?” He put his hands on his hips. “Is it like some sort of fake journal? A fanfiction? A self-insert?”

“… I have no idea what those are.” Artifex shifted his notebook up until it rested between his armpit and torso. “Now, we should get to class before we’re late.”

“What? We’ve still got time, can’t you answer some—”

“And I want to get there as early as possible.” Artifex started to walk again at a speedy pace, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

“Artifex.” No Clue’s voice had lost the curious joviality from before, and instead had been replaced with alarming seriousness. “What’s wrong, man? Whatever it is, I won’t judge you, I promise. You can tell me.”

Artifex looked back at him. Could he tell him? Should he? He was confronted with the fact that No Clue seemed to care much for him. Almost like a brother, which was an impressive feat, considering how they hadn’t even interacted for a full day yet.

The part of him that was filled with warmth urged him to speak. To reveal the truth. It would do no good to hold it all in. But the other part… the older part, the one that was as old as he was, and still remained deep down, after all these years; it urged otherwise. Not in an overly hostile way, but more in a cautious manner. How could he be sure that No Clue could be trusted with this information? How could he be sure that the other boy wouldn’t react negatively?

Artifex’s words spoken to Pinkie echoed in his mind. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you can’t predict everything. And you shouldn’t push yourself to be able to predict and know everything there it to know about someone.

After some more pondering and recollecting, he arrived at his answer; but it had a bitter taste with it.

“I can’t.”

No Clue retreated back, surprised. “You… can’t?”

Artifex confirmed this with a nod.

Clue clenched his fists. “But why? Why can’t you tell me? Why do the others know, huh? Aren’t we friends?”

“Yes, but—”

“Okay, maybe not close friends. But we’ve known each other for nearly a day, now! And you’ve known the others for not even two! What makes them more trustworthy than me in that regard?”

He was irritated, certainly, but behind his words, Artifex sensed something different. It was pain; regret; longing. Something close to what he had had. Something deeper; something darker.

Artifex decided to answer first by action, and then follow with words. He raised his left arm slightly and slowly, letting it level with his hip. His other hand came over and tugged at the ends of the sleeve. No Clue’s eyes moved down, and his mouth opened up, as he stared at Artifex’s wrist. The point had been made, and driven home without so much as a speed bump.

“Because they were the ones who saved me,” Frost said softly, “when I needed saving the most.”

No Clue said nothing, his irritated attitude fading almost completely. His silence did all the talking that he needed.

Artifex released his sleeve, then turned back to face the hall. He didn’t look back at the other boy. “No Clue.”

The boy answered with a nod, which Artifex saw as a faint motion just outside his vision.

“I… I get the feeling that you’re a good person. A bit oblivious in some ways, but decent all around.”

“Oh. Well, thanks, Artifex.”

“And… I do want us to truly become friends down the road. Maybe, in time, I’ll even tell you what I told them. Perhaps more. But…” At this, Artifex did finally turn back to Clue, his cerulean eyes seemingly shimmering. “I need time. Time to get to know you. Time to learn about you, about what I can say, about what you need to hear. Time to learn to trust you.”

He, after a moment’s hesitation, placed his right hand on Clue’s left shoulder. “No Clue, will you give me that time? Will you wait until I’m ready? I won’t fault you if you don’t.” But I will be greatly saddened.

No Clue said nothing for several seconds, even as Artifex retracted his hand. His head was lowered; Artifex could not read him.

“… Okay.” Clue’s voice was just barely audible above the sounds of the school, but in Frost’s mind, it was like a foghorn over a deafened ocean. “I’ll wait.”

Artifex’s lips twitched at the sides. “Thank you,” he whispered.

He saw that Clue still had a frown on, but reasoned that he would be fine later.

The tension mostly dissipated, they both resumed their walk towards the stairs. They walked in joined silence, the other’s company being the only presence they needed. Talking became obsolete and unnecessary. They were heading in the same direction, same floor, but different classes, different locations. Artifex realized they were going down two routes, two paths, one for each.

It set his mind aflame with worry and curiosity. He wondered where those paths would take them. He hoped it was someplace good.