“Whoa. You got soaked.”

Artifex gave Rainbow a half-lidded expression. “Hello to you, too, Rainbow Dash.”

“It would appear that Artifex’s wit is the only thing that has remained dry,” commented Rarity, leading to Artifex palming himself in the face, much to Rainbow’s amusement.

Sunset and Soul had gone on ahead, while Artifex attempted to dry himself off in the school’s lobby. Rainbow had come up shortly after, having been driven to school by her mom, and Rarity and Clyde had arrived together a few minutes later.

Clyde gave Artifex a lookover. “Why are you holding onto a metal cane?” he asked.

The icy-blue-haired boy threw off his hood with his free hand. “Because that used to be my umbrella,” he said, lifting the metal contraption up. He rotated it slightly, before walking over to the trash can and tossing it in. “It barely lasted five minutes outside.”

“Well, it is quite windy,” Rarity said. “But why were you outside in this weather?”

He quickly explained to them just exactly why. Clyde nodded afterwards. “Well, it’s a good thing Sunset and Soul came along to pick you up.”

“Yeah, I’m thankful they did.” Artifex shook his good leg, cringing as he felt the now-soaked material rub against his skin. “Ugh. I hate getting wet,” he said, grunting irritably.

“Shaking around isn’t gonna dry you out as much as walking will,” said Rarity.

He shot her an annoyed look. “I’m aware of that.”

“Rarity’s right,” Rainbow said, “which means we should start heading to class.” She smirked. “If you ask nicely, maybe I’ll fan you down.”

“As much as I would love the ‘fan service,’” Artifex quipped, “we ought to wait for Clue to show up.”

“Hmm. Alright, we’ll do that.”

“Rarity, Clyde, it was nice seeing you both. You’d better head off, now, before it gets too late.”

“What about you two?” Clyde asked. “Won’t your teacher be mad if you’re late?”

“Maybe,” Artifex said, “but I’m willing to take that risk.”

“Yeah, we can’t leave our third member hanging!” Dash exclaimed.

“Then it’s settled,” Rarity said with a nod. “Clyde, shall we?”

“We shall. See you guys later!” They left.

Once they were gone, Rainbow turned to Artifex with a raised eyebrow. “‘Fan service?’ Really?”

He shrugged. “My wit appears to not have been at all dampened by this weather.”

“Yeah, but… that was an awful pun.”

“Whatever you say, Miss Awesome.”

“I am awesome!”

“And I agree.”

As friendly and enjoyable as the bickering was, Artifex’s irritated mood failed to leave him. The storm not only took a toll on his mood, it took a toll on his body, too. He balanced most of his weight on his left side; the sudden change in weather was affecting his limp badly. Rainbow noticed this, and looked at him with concern.

“Hey, you gonna be okay walking to class?” she asked.

“I’ll power through it,” he responded, though without a confident smile.

The clock ticked twice. Then, they heard a loud, ear-bursting screeching, causing the two of them to cringe in shock. Looking back outside, they saw a car had slammed down on its brakes, nearly crashing into a parked one on its arrival. A young man stepped out, with a navy coat on, and signaled something to the car’s driver. He then made a break for the entrance.

“Hey, guys, am I late?” asked No Clue, once he had reached them.

“Not yet,” said Artifex, watching the boy’s car drive off with a bang.

No Clue let out a sigh of relief, throwing off his hood. “Oh, thank goodness. Mom might have killed me.”

“Why? The weather would have impeded your timely arrival either way.”

“Okay, maybe Mom would not have killed me. I might have killed me if I was late!”

He took no notice of Artifex’s briefly troubled expression.

Rainbow stepped forward, bumping Clue lightly on the shoulder. “Dang, dude, you’re pretty fast. Made it up the steps in under ten seconds!”

“R-really? You mean it?” Clue gulped, then tried for a confident grin. “W-well, maybe it’s just the rain that got to me.”

“Ah, don’t be so humble! Seriously, Clue, you’re speedy, for a newcomer.”

“Heh… well, if you think so.” Clue looked away, but caught himself in Artifex’s sights. The boy froze, as Frost gave him a knowing look.

“Alright, enough chit-chat,” Artifex said. “We’ve gotta go.”

“Aye aye, Captain Frost!” Dash exclaimed, grabbing her backpack with one hand while saluting with the other. No Clue, slightly bewildered, nodded, and grabbed his own belongings. Together, the three of them set off for Mr. Solil’s classroom.

They weren’t the first to arrive, but neither were they the last. They shuffled in, partially wet, partially dry. Artifex appeared the most exhausted; his increased limp had cost him a good amount of energy. Rainbow and No Clue looked slightly less tired.

They took their seats, Rainbow and Clue greeting several other students, while Artifex remained silent. As he sat down, he was aware of just how wet his pants had gotten. He didn’t make a sound, and it didn’t appear that the rest of the class had heard the squelch, but he nonetheless silently huffed angrily. He didn’t even feel like opening his backpack to take out his materials.

It took nearly all of Artifex’s will to not place his forehead on the desk. Lethargic as he was, he didn’t feel much of a need to do anything.

“Hang on a second.” Rainbow’s voice brought him out of his mild stupor. “Where’s Mr. Solil?”

“Hey, yeah,” Clue said. “I hadn’t noticed it at first, but… there’s no one at the desk!”

Murmurs rushed through the students. Was he late? Was it because of the rain? Had something happened to him? Rainbow asked a few of the students if Mr. Solil was ever late before. All of them said he had never once missed a day of class unless he had a meeting to attend or some other event.

“Made skipping his class really hard,” commented one student.

Rainbow returned to her seat. “What do you guys think?”

“Well, it’s probably the rain, really,” said No Clue. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s in a traffic jam.”

“I thought he lived close by,” said Rainbow. “He seemed always here, like he was never far away.”

Mr. Solil’s proverb rang in Artifex’s mind. “He probably just gets here really early,” he said, “and probably lives a short distance further. Like the downtown area; maybe even the city.”

“If that’s the case, then who’s to say we’ll even have class?”

“They won’t just leave us with an empty classroom, Clue,” Artifex said. “All things considering, they’ll probably get one of the other teachers to sub. Maybe a gym teacher, or the janitor, or someone. Maybe even the principals, if they’re desperate.”

“What if they’re really desperate?” Rainbow asked. “Who do they turn to, then?”

“… I’m not sure. A parent, maybe? An old teacher, retired? Secretary? Maybe even—”

“Hello, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, and welcome to the first day of your entire life!”

Only Clue and Artifex were the ones who did not groan at the sudden and intrusive voice that came from where the now-opened door. Following the voice to its source, Artifex found himself peering at an older man with olive-grey skin. His eyes were a combination of yellow corneas and red pupils. A brown suit, with red pants, a single, green shoe, and a yellow-brown sneaker, all combined to form an atrocious set of clothing. If Rarity had been here, she would have surely fainted at the mere sight.

The man had a short, white beard hanging off his chin. Most of his hair shared the same color, but the tail-end appeared to be jet-black. Artifex wasn’t certain whether it was dyed or natural; he doubted the latter. The man before them appeared nothing of that sort either way. Frost further concluded this by the way the man’s toothy grin had a mischievous glint to it.

“Uh, who is that guy?” No Clue asked.

The man let out a gasp, covering his mouth with one hand. “My word! Does one of my treasured students not know who I am?”

Clue shook his head. “Am I supposed to? I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone like you before in my entire life!”

“Well, yeah, you wouldn’t; you’re still pretty young. Far too new to be able to say that you’ve seen a cornucopia of oddities.” The man giggled in a high-pitched manner. “Well, why don’t you ask one of your fellow classmates? I’m sure they’d love to tell you!”

“Uh, okay.” Clue turned to Rainbow. “So… who is this dude?”

The prism-haired athlete sighed. “That’s Superintendent Discord.”

Artifex stared at her, incredulous. “That’s the superintendent?”

“Yup.”

“He looks nothing like a superintendent!”

The man named Discord looked at Artifex with a slight amount of amusement. “Oh? You must be new, then. Tell me, dear boy, what does a superintendent look like normally?”

Artifex stood up, giving the man a cautious glare. “Well, for starters, Discord—”

“That’s Mr. Discord.”

“Fine. Mr. Discord. A superintendent should look as professional as he can possibly be.”

“What, this isn’t professional?” At that, Mr. Discord spread his arms. “Come now, my boy. I’m one of the better dressed superintendents in the area.”

“Speaking from experience, Mr. Discord, you aren’t even among the top fifteen.”

Superintendent Discord frowned and narrowed his eyes at the boy. “Did someone take a bathroom break in your cereal this morning?”

Artifex bit his tongue. Irritated as he was, he knew it wouldn’t do any good to backtalk the boss of the principals.

But something about Discord rubbed him the wrong way. Whatever dampness he felt suddenly vanished, replaced with a level of coldness that engulfed his body in a frigid atmosphere. He focused solely on the man; Discord’s strangeness combatted Artifex’s coldness.

Mr. Discord appeared mad only a moment longer, for he suddenly threw up his hands and let out a chuckle. “Well, nevermind hypothetical pissing in porridge.” Several classmates, No Clue included, let out disgusted groans. “What? I said hypothetical!”

The man then walked over to the teacher’s desk, taking obnoxiously long strides. The class watched him, trepidation filling the air and crushing down potential voices of protest. He examined the black chair for a second, before shrugging and kicking it away.

He looked back at the quest, smirking. “I do my best work sitting up,” he explained to no one in particular.

He then looped his fingers between each other and cracked them, sighing as he did so. “Ah. So! As I see it, you students have no teacher this morning! And I, having stopped by and being your kind, considerate, caring—and a bunch of hard “c” sounds—superintendent, have decided to take the liberty to become your substitute teacher!” He flourished his hands, oblivious to the looks of horror and shock on the students’ faces. “Ah, judging by your stunned silence, you are all at a loss of words! Perfect.”

No Clue raised his hand. “Yes, young man? What is it?” Discord asked.

“Are you—I mean, does our regular teacher know about this?”

“Does he? Why, my boy, of course he doesn’t!” Discord let out a mad cackle. “Why would he even know about this?”

“Because that’s the responsible thing to do?”

“Pfft. Where’s the fun in being responsible? Where’s the excitement? The pizzaz?”

Artifex leaned over to Rainbow. “And just how is this guy our superintendent?”

“That question has been asked many, many times, and never fully answered.”

“The system must be broken, then.”

“Maybe.”

“Sit down, boy,” said Mr. Discord to No Clue. The boy sat down, questions still obviously racing in his mind as Artifex watched him. “Now! If there are no further questions, we shall get started.”

“Actually,” a student from the back started, “I was wondering if you know where our teacher is.”

“Ah, him? He’s just late, that’s all. Now, that’ll be enough questions.”

“But do you know what’s made him late—”

“I said that’s enough!” Discord glared at the boy, before replacing the glare with a sunny smile. “Now! With that settled, let’s get onto my favorite part of any school program: attendance!”

The faux-superintendent picked up the attendance sheet from the clipboard and held it out in front of him. He proceeded to mispronounce nearly every name in the class, much to their annoyance and malcontent. He stopped, once he reached No Clue’s entry.

“My word… it seems we’ve a psychic in our class. Nostradamus Clue!” Mr. Discord grinned at the young man. “You know, your namesake is one of my favorite topics of contingency among all the historical figures.”

“Oh, uh, thank you. My grandmother came up with the idea—”

“Catch!”

“Gah!”

No Clue had to swerve to the side just as Discord threw the clipboard at him. It clattered loudly behind him, sliding under several students’ desks. Clue panted heavily, body shaking all over. He slowly looked back at Discord. Anger, so foreign, so distant, rose up in his eyes and his frame.

He would have shouted, but Artifex did that for him. “What the hell was that?!”

“Watch your tone, young man,” Discord warned.

Artifex wasn’t having it. He shot up from his seat, glaring ice-cold daggers at the older man. “You just threw a clipboard at a student!”

Discord shrugged. “It was all in good fun. Besides, I proved a point.”

“What point?”

“That Nostradamus was a charlatan who had a habit of guessing in the dark.” He gazed at No Clue. “Hmm. We have yet to see if that has carried over to your lineage.”

He then looked back at Artifex with a slightly bored look. “Besides, why do you care? It’s not like you were going to get hit or anything.”

“Because what you’re doing is wrong,” the boy answered, not once letting up his gaze. “And, as a member of the educational system, you would know that there are serious repercussions towards staff members who seek to harm or hurt a student of theirs.”

“Hmph. But can you say for certain that I meant what I did? For all we know, that could have been an accident.” Discord stepped around his desk, crossing his arms and glaring at Artifex. “It’s all a little joke. Lighten up.”

“Then why is no one laughing?”

“Because they’re slow on the punchline.”

“Or maybe it’s just that your kind of humor is in poor taste.”

All eyes were trained on the boy and the superintendent. Discord narrowed his eyes. “Young man, just who do you think you are?”

“Artifex Frost,” he responded with a narrowed gaze of his own. “And I am the guy who doesn’t like it when someone as chaotic as you tries to take charge.”

“Mr. Frost? I’ll have to remember that when I go over the student records.” Discord’s frown sharpened at the edges. “You’ve an attitude that I don’t like, Mr. Frost.”

“The same to you, Mr. Discord.”

He felt Clue tug at his sleeve. “Artifex, what are you doing?” the boy hissed. “In case you haven’t noticed, that’s our principals’ boss! Why are you antagonizing him?”

Frost didn’t answer. He stared at Discord through a concentrated gaze, as if willing the man to dare to speak.

He thought he saw red; then, from behind the door, he saw a flash of orange; then, both colors were gone.

Discord suddenly threw up his hands. “For God’s sake, it was just a clipboard! It wasn’t like I threw a pair of scissors at him!”

“The thought crossed your mind.”

Discord huffed loudly. “Maybe it did, maybe it didn’t. Irregardless—”

“Regardless.”

“Oh, lookit Mr. Grammar Na—”

“Look at. ‘Lookit’ isn’t a word.”

“What is this?! Grammar class?”

“Actually,” Rainbow said, “this is the Language Arts class.”

Discord paused, looking at Dash with mild surprise. “Ah. Of course it is.”

He then looked back at Frost. “Regardless, as your substitute teacher, I am afraid I cannot stand for this insubordinate behavior.”

“Then you had better sit down.”

The voice was neither Frost’s, nor Clue’s, nor Rainbow’s, nor any of the other students. Rather, it came from the creaked-open door, from the mouth of one, glaring Manehattenite.

Discord seemed to pale at the intrusion. Turning, he muttered, “Ah, hello, you must be—”

“Mr. Solil. This class’s teacher. And I don’t recall asking you to stand in for me.”

“Well, you see, Mr. Solil, I was just visiting, and I saw that this class was empty. I thought, ‘What better way to get to know my students than to engage them as a substitute teacher?’ I figured that would be fine, since you were late.”

“Except that I wasn’t. I had even put a sign up, on my door, saying that I was in a meeting with the principals to discuss changes in the class period time due to this weather. Which, I see, has been suspiciously torn down.”

Discord now visibly paled. He tugged at the collar of his shirt. “W-well, isn’t that strange—”

“Superintendent Discord! What a surprise; we weren’t expecting you today!” As Mr. Solil stepped inside, Artifex and the rest saw Principal Celestia and her sister step into view. The former had a diplomatic smile on her face, while the latter had on a disgruntled frown.

The superintendent let out a short string of nervous laughter. “Yes, well, you know me, Celestia. Always one for surprises.”

“Indeed,” said Luna. “It is also quite surprising that you had not stopped by our office on your arrival.”

“I-I had assumed that I could walk freely wherever I wanted.”

“Oh, you can,” Celestia affirmed, still keeping on her careful smile. Judging by the slight narrowing of her eyes, though, she was far from feeling anything positive towards the man. “But don’t you think it’d be much more friendly of you to come and visit us?”

“O-oh, well, I can’t just leave my adoring crowd of students hanging, now, can I?” He looked around, expecting some to stand up and speak on his behalf. The only ones who stood, however, were Frost and Clue; they, and the rest included, gave him blank, exasperated stares.

“It would appear that that is your answer,” said Luna. “Besides, they’ve their teacher already.”

“Yes,” Celestia added. “Now, come along, Mr. Discord. We’ve so much catching up to do.”

“Hmph. Can’t I stay a little longer? I was enjoying the atmosphere.” He pointed to Artifex. “Particularly the one that he was providing.”

Mr. Solil suddenly stepped forward. He was as tall as Discord, but at least twice as intimidating. His gaze easily beat down the superintendent’s with a nasty stare. “With all due respect, sir,” he stated, plain and simple, “get out of my classroom.”

“R-right, of course, Mr. Solil. Er… Class! Don’t forget to do all your homework, and listen to everything your teacher says. Also—” Before he could say further, he was dragged out by the twin principals. His voice completely faded when the door slammed shut.

Mr. Solil let out a breath, then walked over to his desk. Seeing his chair had been pushed away, he grabbed it, and put it back in its original place. He sat down on it, testing the springs. “Ah, much better.” The class watched him, unsure of what to do next.

“Mr. Clue, you can sit down. Mr. Frost, could you please remain standing?” Both boys obliged with silence, doing exactly as he requested. Frost closed his eyes, took a breath, then opened them as he exhaled.

Mr. Solil drummed his fingers on his desk. They drifted over to a fountain pen, and he picked it up, juggling it between his fingers. He gazed at Artifex with a stern gaze, lips in a set frown.

“Artifex Frost.”

“Yes, sir?”

“You do know that talking back to a teacher, no less a superintendent, comes with huge ramifications.”

“I do, sir.”

“Do you?” Mr. Solil leaned back, his hands falling to his lap. “This will undoubtedly appear on your transcript as an offense. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you accept these future ramifications?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And the responsibility that comes with them?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Good. Catch!” Something darted out from the teacher’s hands. Artifex reached out, and caught it. Looking down, he realized that it was a mint. He gave his teacher a confused look.

Mr. Solil leaned forward again. “Now, as your teacher, it is my duty to have this incident written up, and sent to the principals for examination. But… I wasn’t in the room when it happened. I saw nothing.” He winked. “Good job, Mr. Frost. You may sit down.”

“Thank you… sir,” Frost said, doing as he was told.

“Wait, that’s it?” a student from the front row asked.

“That’s what?” asked Mr. Solil.

“A mint? No punishment? No staying after class?”

“None whatsoever. I agreed with everything that Mr. Frost said, regarding our superintendent.”

“I get the feeling that you don’t like Mr. Discord that much.”

“Not at all. Despite him surprisingly being an adequate superintendent, I find his tactless and childish nature to be… well, immature. Chaotic. Disorderly.” He placed a finger to his chin. “How fitting, I suppose.

“Either way. Mr. Frost, enjoy this chance privilege while you can. In the future, I cannot guarantee that you’ll have the backing of the principals or even myself to get through this mess. Still, though… I could not have said what you said any better myself.”

Artifex nodded, but, for some reason, felt a welt of unease rise in his stomach. He fought it down as best as he could.

“At least the superintendent did something right. Attendance is all filled out, good good… alright!” Mr. Solil clapped his hands. “It’s a shorter block, so we’re not going to do too, too much. Pencils and paper, everyone; let’s get to work.”