All things are relative, even death.

Hype was walking down one of the main pathways at the Ponyville campus, his brisk pace and stoic demeanor making it so that most didn’t bother trying to talk to him. It was for the best since he was busy grabbing a few source texts for Lucida’s history class in a few hours. However, his thoughts were derailed when he felt Free pinging him over the network.

<Hey, Hype?>

<Yes, Mom?>

<Path is getting ready for a lecture. Can you please go and help him if he asks? His lectures are generally short, so you won’t be late for Lucida’s class.>

<Yes, I can do that.>

Hype changed his direction and walked out over to the old amphitheater where he saw Path standing with an identical Path. Both of them were making the exact same movements and motions as they talked, their voice layered over each other in a strange but intelligible pattern. Then one alone continued on.

“You do not know which one of us is the real Path. The other Path is not a changeling, so sorry, you won’t be able to detect that. And this is not being done with unicorn magic, so sorry magic-users – you won’t be able to spot that either. But at the end of this lecture, you will be asked which one is the real Path, and I hope you will have an answer.”

The other Path continued where the first left off. “Today we were going to talk about individualism versus collectivism. However, I might have jumped too far ahead already. In order to talk about those things, we need to talk about the self, or rather we need to define what the self is. The best way to do this would be to define when you are, and when you are not. Life and death. One would think that such a definition would be simple, but as you will come to find out, it’s not as easy as you would think. So... what defines you as you and what does death really mean? Buckle up!”

The students looked at each other and then to the two Paths in the center of meeting area. It was Brimstone who finally spoke up. “Well, it’s simple – you are dead when your heart stops and your lifeblood grows still. You will have passed from this world and you will either ascend to the Golden Summit or be cast to the Pyre Caves. I thought everyone knew this.”

The second Path spoke up. “Ahh! So – ignoring for the moment the theological second half of your idea, which trust me, when we get to belief systems, it will be so chaotic that Discord usually comes in to enjoy it.” The students laughed for a moment. “Your statement is that when the heart stops, one is dead?”

Brimstone nodded.

“Any other viewpoints?”

A unicorn raised her hoof. “You die when that spark of magic inside you fades. Since it is magic that is in all of us, it makes sense that when we pass, that spark is extinguished.”

A few students nodded in agreement.

The first Path spoke again. “It’s funny that you bring up the spark. There is a small enclave of earth ponies deep in the Macintosh Hills that believe in the spark, and that anything that modifies the spark is the equivalent of murder. Because of this, they shun all magic and magic-users. This is why communication with them is very difficult. We will get into them during our lecture on fringe settlements. Any other points of view?”

A zebra raised his hand. “I am told that our memories make up who we are. The body can die, the mind can die, but as long as your memories are intact, you are immortal.” A few of the students blinked a few times at the zebra, trying to wrap their heads around what he had just said. The Paths, however, were grinning.

“Hype, come down here please!” one said.

The changeling walked down and that Path whispered something into his ear before turning his attention back to his students. “One of the things I’m trying to get across in this class is to have fluid ideas and definitions. Problems arise when we get too locked in by labels and definition. For example, and for my changeling students, don’t worry – I asked all of the Queens before I talked about this first part.” This piqued more than a few of the harvesters’ interest.

“Did you know that for a non-changeling, to make a full, unfiltered connection to a changeling network is very rare? Not because they don’t want to do that – well they don't – but because it is unbelievably intense on the pony being connected. This is because when you enter the network, your consciousness is spread among all drones. Every drone will know every part of you up to that point. So…” He pointed to the Zebra. “If what you say is fact, then this is also true.”

The first Path stood over to the side while the second Path walked up and transformed into a much younger Path. He wasn’t nearly as toned, he still had his cutie mark, and his eyes were bright and filled with curiosity. The ’lings were getting confused as this thing did not transform using changeling magic. “By your definitions, there are two Paths currently in existence right now. There is me, the teacher that you have known for years, and then there is the Path that was copied into the green hive network all those years ago when I foolishly asked Iridia to connect me so I could learn all about them.”

The younger looking Path hopped up to one of the ’lings and chittered to her in their own language.

<Ooh, a Red Changeling! I have yet to meet your Queen, but from what I hear from the guards, she sounds tough but fair. I hope she will teach me the history of her hive!>

The students started to giggling and laugh at the younger Path, but he was just eating all the attention up.

The original Path continued to speak. “I do not believe that one’s memories are what makes a person alive, and the loss of said memories is what makes them dead. If that was the case, I could go to every hive, and make a back-up copy on their networks, like some kind of... databank of Paths.”

The younger Path hopped back over to the older Path and smiled brightly.

“Hmm. Now, Brimstone, you are Blue Streak’s favored pupil, so it makes sense that you would be in this class so early in your career. You remind me a lot of Blue when he was younger. But onto your answer. When the heart stops and the blood stills, that is when a person is dead, correct?”

The catbird nodded a few times curious to see where Path was going with this line of deliberation.

That young Path morphed again and slumped over on the ground. He appeared to be badly beaten, his limbs off at weird angles, the air became thick with the scent of blood and burning, and other scents as well. Some of the students barely resisted getting sick.

“Moments after the conclusion of the Crystal Siege, after channeling all of the energy of the Alicorn of Magic, my body lay burned out and destroyed. My heart had stopped, my blood was still. I was not breathing for seven minutes. By your account, that is the true Path and I am but a shard of the original. I mean, don’t get me wrong – I’m a pretty awesome shard but a shard nonetheless.”

Path hummed a bit and smiled. “Which bring me to the last hypothesis – that spark you called it. Well, it has other names as well. The Lunarists and Celestialists call it a “soul”. The changelings call it “a shard of the First Mother. It goes by many names, but hmm... I... I don’t think that’s right either.”

The Path on the ground stood up and his magitek horn lit up as a podium appeared, and soon he was standing in front of it with a very familiar set of bandages across his mid-section and his face.

“Now who remembers this? I believe it’s actually in a page of one of your first-year textbooks.”

“Everyone knows that one; it’s you when you did your speech to begin the rally of all of the world’s civilizations!” Vectored Facet called out.

“Oh, but was it? Are you sure? I can say this because it’s public record. It’s just buried so far down in the archives that nobody bothers to look, but the Path that gave that speech and the Path standing in front of you are not the same. Take a closer look at me.”

The students looked closely at the grinning Path on the pedestal, and then one of the griffons squawked out, “He’s wearing a changeling emotion blocker!”

The Path on the podium nodded as he grinned, green flames licking at his body until a green changeling was standing there. “I had to have a stand in. That passionate speech was actually given by our current Head of Administration.”

“Proper Place?!” A few of the student exclaimed as Path laughed.

“Ha! That never gets old. But yes, while this is the me that everyone accepts, this however was the real me at the time.”

Path passed out a picture of himself to the students. It showed him being surrounded by nurses and healer drones. The pony himself was suspended motionless in what looked like a healing pod. The only indication that he was still alive was the occasional bubble that came out of his taped-up muzzle.

“I had Proper Place transfer all of my memories, my mannerisms, my everything into himself so that when he made this speech, it was impossible to tell us apart.”

The podium faded and the Path reverted to an exact copy of the one that was doing most of the talking.

“So I know our lessons are short, but most of this class is about me giving you information and you thinking for yourselves. You are not graded on your opinion; you are graded on your justification. Now...”

Both Paths stood up and moved into the center of the speaking area and they both said at once.

“Which one of us is the real Path?”

There was a silence among the small class as they thought about it. The cheeky griffon was the first one to speak up.

“Your answer?”

Brimstone looked deep in thought before he spoke. “It doesn’t matter which Path is real and which Path is a fake. Based off of what you are telling us, the only thing that matters is your impact, your intent. It doesn’t matter that you were dead for a while, and it doesn’t matter that there are two of you. It doesn’t matter that there was an impersonator. What makes a person a person is their intent, how they interact with the people around them. If your intent has far reaching consequences, then you are alive in the hearts of those that remember you, either as a hated scourge or as a beloved altruist. The self is a reflection of the world and its interactions.”

Path hmmed a bit and nodded a few times “Very interesting, and well thought out. Is it the self that gives form to the world or is it the world that gives form to the self? Class – you all have a new assignment!”

The students collectively groaned.

“Everyone go and talk to their families and friends. Ask them what death and the self means to them. Write it all down and come back to me. Once we get back, I'll explain the second part to you. Class dismissed!”

The class started to leave and Hype walked over to the two Paths. One of them waggled his eyebrows at Hype who looked at him confused. “Who is the not-Path?”

The one that was talking the entire time laughed and took off something that was unable to be seen as the old hippogriff stood in front of both of them. “You don’t even recognize your own wife – I’m so hurt!”'

Hype huffed a bit in annoyance. “How could I tell when you’re wearing a perception filter designed to convince everyone that you’re Path?”

One of the students had lingered and she cleared her throat to get the others’ attention. When the trio turned to her, she said, “I had a question about your last lecture…”

“Okay, ask away!” Path replied.

“What happened to the nymph in the tunnels?”

Path raised an eyebrow and looked at Vectored Facet intently.“I told you that I committed genocide – didn’t you believe me?”

The student nervously scuffed a hoof.“Well… I just can’t believe that despite the circumstances, every egg and nymph was slaughtered. Was there no room for mercy at all?”

Path smiled sadly. “Sometimes there’s no opportunity for mercy.”

“But was there opportunity this time?” the mare insisted.

Path drew in a deep breath and let it out in long sigh.“That’s a question better answered by Ancient Texts.”

“The Head Librarian?”

Path nodded.

“Why would he know and not you?”

“Why don’t you find out?” Path replied, pointing at the old unicorn stallion who was approaching with a stack of textbooks in the glow of his green magic.

Vectored Facet did as Path suggested and stepped up to the unicorn as he placed the books by the lectern for the next lesson.

“Sir – Professor Path suggested that I ask you about the nymph that was being protected by its nurse during the destruction of the Antecedent Hive. Did it live or was it killed too?”

Ancient Texts glanced at Path who merely shrugged. The stallion turned back to the crystal pony and said, “You really want to know the fate of that nymph?”

“Yes, sir. Do you know?”

The old unicorn nodded. “I do. I survived.” He gave her a wink before turning his attention back to his books.

Vectored Facet stared at the pony in wonder as Path murmured, “Sometimes it’s that single act of mercy that makes the memory of that event bearable.”

Part two of "Class Is In" was written mostly by AlaskaIsCold and edited by me, but I dealt with the final question as to what happened to the nymph.