“... for tomorrow, I want you all to have written a small essay on what alchemy means to you,” the elderly professor says, closing today’s session. “This concludes the day’s class.”

With a yawn, I rip my gaze from Professor Calcification and look down at my desk. The parchment paper I set out for note-taking is completely covered in my barely legible mouth-scrawl. Still, it’s a day’s worth of lectures captured almost seamlessly in Equestrian script. All-in-all, it’s something I feel proud to have accomplished.

Once I’ve packed away my notes into the saddlebag opposite my supplies, I rise out of the seat and look around. It almost feels like somepony has their eyes on me, but there’s no one else in any of the seats behind me. In fact, it seems like all of the other students left the moment the professor concluded the lesson. But if the other students—that wretch parading around like a princess included—have left, that would leave only the professor.

“Excuse me, young miss,” the professor asks, sauntering up to my desk. His eyes are gleaming with some sort of withheld emotion or idea. “There are not many diminutive mares such as yourself here at the university. The most peculiar rumor is going around that Princess Luna has granted a diminutive young mare, such as yourself, her blessing and is sponsoring her education.

“They say that students picked by the princesses are usually a peculiar sort, but always the brightest in some aspect,” he says, smiling. “Take Princess Celestia’s chosen pupil, Ms. Twilight Sparkle, for example. The girl’s a magical prodigy, but has always been lacking in the social skills. A wistful old fool such as myself can only hope that he has the opportunity to educate Princess Luna’s blessed. Might I ask your name, dear?”

Things are getting incredibly creepy. He’s just staring at me with what I recognize now as longing. Warily eying the unicorn, I swallow gently before speaking. “Silver Script, sir.”

“Silver, eh?” The stallion chuckles to himself before turning away. “Silver is a very useful material in alchemy and enchanting. Not only is it naturally magic-conductive, it is incredibly rich in aether and albedo, and is said to have an effect on creativity and femininity when used properly in certain potions. Interestingly enough, the traditional astrological glyph of the moon is often used in association with alchemical silver. Silver is even baptized in moonlight to fight the more dangerous creatures of the world. Here you stand, a pony named for silver in the midst of rumors of the Moon’s chosen.”

I can’t help but smile. This old stallion is far sharper than his elderly exterior lets on. Not only has he basically figured me out, he’s done so using the most curious logic. The fellow clearly isn’t just for show. “I can’t say I know what you’re talking about, but if Her Majesty has given me her blessing—” I reply sweetly, “—what right would I have I to flaunt it?”

The two of us share a laugh, though neither of us can particularly tell why it’s funny. “Anyway, professor, I really need to get going.” My stomach lets out a practically vicious growl. “Things happened this morning, and I didn’t get a chance to eat breakfast.”

Professor Calcification nods sagely. “A pony of your modest stature must still eat properly,” he acknowledges. “If you have any questions regarding the coursework, please remember my office door is always open in the afternoon.”

Hopping from my seat and returning my saddlebag to my back, I return the teacher’s nod. “I’ll remember that,” I say before trotting off to the dormitory.

When I reach the dorm room, I partly expect to find Gale waiting for me with a plate of bacon. Kind of a goofy thing to expect, seeing as we’ve only just met, and she has places to be too. In all fairness, I blame my stomach and my rekindled taste for flesh. It’s not like I ever bought into that stupid “Women belong in the kitchen; make me a sandwich,” bullshit—I have a vagina now, so that’s kind of stupid to perpetuate that upon myself—but part of me recalls her saying something along the lines of getting me bacon and wants to hold it to her. Call me childish and you wouldn’t be wrong.

It’s clear by the time I’ve unloaded my saddlebag and relieved my bladder that Gale isn’t around—still in class, probably. Part of me wants to just leave for the cafeteria and accidentally wander up to the griffon counter and order up a burger—a real fucking burger—and die of happiness. That hungry part of me says that Gale will probably find me eventually.

Instead, I delve into my saddlebags once again to retrieve a sheet of parchment, my inkwell and quill, and a piece of ribbon. I could easily just run off to the cafeteria and fulfill my imaginary bloodlust, but my thoughts of things that are owed reminded me that I owe somepony something as well. Dipping my quill in the ink, I ready myself for the letter I need to write.

Dear Prince Shining Armor,

I’m sorry that you had to be involved in today’s nonsense, but I honestly think you really saved my flank today. I feel I owe you many things following this. Chiefly, I owe you my thanks. I dare say Princess Luna would be incredibly sour to hear that I’d gotten myself expelled before my first class.

Beyond that, I owe you an apology. This isn’t just about the meat business, though I admit that the incident plays a large part in it. I reacted poorly to the bigotry, and now I’m almost sure I have the Blueblood line out for blood, and any number of upstart nobles pining for Aqua Regia’s favor willing to do her bidding.

That’s another thing I wish to mention. You may have also noticed it during that meeting as well, but when Chancellor Modest slammed his hooves on his desk, I couldn’t help but notice the distinct sound of a bag of bits being disturbed. Now, I’m not making accusations, but even the Chancellor admitted that the charges made against me were outrageously overzealous, so for him to go forward with such ludicrous complaints without even wanting to hear my own side in things, he had to have been bribed. Even then, he’s the Chancellor of the University of Canterlot! I doubt that he’s scraping by, so surely he’d have to have been been offered a pretty substantial bribe—more than something one might carry to a school, even if you are a spoiled rich girl. I’m not saying that this is up your alley, but it would certainly be worth investigating.

I also owe you congratulations. Back when we met in March, I figured that if you and Her Majesty Princess Cadance were here in Canterlot—away from the Empire—you were here for one of two reasons: illness, or pregnancy. Seeing as neither you or the Princess appeared ill that day, that leaves only a foal on the way. I wish you two the best of luck, and hope your child is a bouncing bundle of joy. Oh, and don’t worry. I’m not gonna blab.

~Silver Script

Contented with the letter, I roll up the parchment and tie it with the ribbon, but my mood immediately sours when a realization strikes; I can’t give it to him right this instant. Chances are that I won’t see Shining Armor any time soon unless something else major happens. Why, then, did I even write this letter?

Disgusted with my own shortsightedness, I deposit the scroll on my desk. Groaning, I flop onto my back and stare across the now upside-down chamber. Opposite of me is Gale’s desk, already covered in belongings and little knick-knacks, unlike my own, which is simply a dumping ground for my saddlebags and a convenient writing surface. Hanging above Gale’s desk, however, is something that catches my attention—a calendar.

Now, it’s probably the silliest of all things to catch my eye, but it’s no great secret that the passing of days doesn’t always register in my head. Most of the times I look at a calendar, I find myself asking myself where all the time goes. Today, however, I realize that in all the excitement—chaos is more like it; Discord would be elated, I’m sure—of the last few days that I’ve completely ignored the date. The first unmarked date on the calendar reads Tuesday, April the fourth.

I had my first session with Doctor Clear Conscience three weeks ago today. That means I have yet another appointment with the good stallion, but I’m not at all eager about the prospects of seeing him after everything that has happened today and last night. After all, I do have things that I need to talk to him about. There is even a certain subject that I think I’m ready to broach with him. Maybe this will be just the sort of stress relief I need.

A loud growl escaping my stomach reminds me that I’ve been putting something else off now. I chuckle at my own ignorance of my body’s needs. Were I still human, living happily at what was once home, I never would have gotten into this state. Particularly, I recall that the grazing habit I’d developed in my late teens ensured I never had to hear my stomach growling in hunger. Then again, that’s why I was corpulent as a human.

Rolling off of my back, I stagger to my hooves. Yeah, I’ve definitely been putting off mealtime for far too long. My legs are all shaky and I feel like I could stoop as low as killing and eating Aqua Regia of all ponies... Er, wow. I really need to not ever think that again. That’s disturbing not just on the level that I was welcoming of the idea of murder and cannibalism; no part of Aqua Regia will never enter my mouth, with or without my consent.

Staggering toward the door, I frown. “Why am I so crazy and stupid?”

Upon entering the cafeteria, the stares of the students are exactly as I expected. I imagine more than a few rumors of my failed expulsion and nature as a cannibal have made their rounds around the student body. The sudden silence at my entrance certainly gives credence to the idea that I’m at the very least a social pariah now.

Ponies and griffons alike exchange glances while taking furtive glances around. It’s almost as if they’re looking for something, but nothing is happening. Just more of that awkward silence. Am I missing something? Is a pail of cold water supposed to drop on my head?

Finally, a slow clap erupts from one of the griffon tables. A quick glance reveals the griffon bard, Gearalt, to be the source of the applause. Slowly but surely, other griffons begin clapping. The sound lightens my mood almost immediately as it becomes clear that I’ve seemingly won the approval of the university’s griffons.

What comes next, however, catches me completely by surprise. The sound of hooves stomping joins the raucous griffon applause. Ponies all around the chamber erupt in applause and cheering as I pick my way through the tables toward the serving counters. Maybe the server yesterday spoke the truth. Maybe I really have won over the common ponies?

Almost hesitantly, a stallion detaches himself from one of the tables and places himself in my path. I recognize him almost immediately as being one of the ponies from my class. “I saw what you did, last night,” the stallion says loudly. “It takes a lot of courage to stand up a noble like you did. The fact that you’re still here means that you’re really something else. While we might not approve of your... dietary choices, know that we’re cheering you on.”

Wow, wasn’t expecting that one. “Thanks,” I meekly reply . “I might be a special kind of crazy, but I’m glad to hear it.”

With that over, the applause dies down and every student in the room returns to their meals and conversations. Left free to get my meal, I trot forward until I’m at a point between the two service counters. Almost unthinkingly, I saunter toward the griffon counter—much to the chagrin of the ponies in the cafeteria. What can I do but drool? The smells coming from there are intoxicating.

The griffon behind the counter gives me an amused smile as I study the menu. “What can I get for you, little bird?” he asks in a tone somewhere between mocking and teasing.

I don’t speak for a few more moments, still deciding on what I want. The hamburger looks like a good choice, but I’m not sure if it’s just completely ground pork, or if there’s ground beef. Is that even a thing here, given the sentience of cows? “How tender is the pulled pork?”

My inquiring tone is steady, momentarily stunning the griffon. I don’t think he honestly expected a pony could ever sound so casual about ordering meat. “Well, I reckon it should be tender enough for your herbivorous little teeth, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Sounds good then,” I reply. “I’ll take that, with a side of salad. None of that stuff with the chicken though.”

The server gives me an appraising look before nodding and disappearing into the kitchen. When he returns, I’m happily greeted by the sight of a pile of pork between two halves of a bun with a side of salad, all placed conveniently on a tray. Quickly thanking the server, I bugger off with my meal.

On pure instinct, I make my way toward the table occupied by Gearalt. When I finally get there, I’m rather disappointed to find that the griffon is there by himself. Gale and Gaius are nowhere to be seen. There’s just Gearalt, his meal on the table in front of him, and the guitar clutched in his claws.

“Afternoon, little lassie,” the griffon bard greets, idling strumming his guitar. “Keepin’ up the meat diet, I see. Good on ye. Don’t ye be payin’ the judgemental ponies any mind.”

“Yeah.” I take my pulled pork sandwich between my hooves, and am instantly transported to some sort of nirvana upon biting into it. “This is what’s been missing from my life.”

“Glad to hear,” he replies, closing his eyes. Eventually, he begins strumming more than just idle notes. This time, it’s an almost jazzy tune. “Been trying to work a little tune up for my class. Can’t seem to get it right though.”

I close my eyes and listen to the tune he’s piecing together. I’d like to say that I’m startled to find it familiar, but to be honest, I’m all out of surprise. “Not trying to criticize or anything,” I comment, taking another bite of my meal. “This is the sort of tune that works better with lyrics.” Almost as an afterthought, I cock my head. “Mind if I spin you a line and see where we go?”

“I wouldn’t have pegged ye for a songbird, but sure.” He grins widely. “From the top.”

As Gearalt begins once more, I shift anxiously while ticking away the notes in my head until the jump-in point. “Fly me to the sky, and let me dance about in space. Let me see what fall is like on the lunar face,” I begin in a shaky soprano, once more closing my eyes. “In other terms, hold my hoof. In other terms, pony, kiss me.”

I pause, listening once more to his jazz-laden strumming, waiting for my hop-in point again. “Fill my life with joy, and let me dine just a bit more. This is what I crave for, and I come back wanting more,” I sing, becoming more at ease with my singing voice. “In other terms, don’t be rude. In other terms, pass the food.”

Exhaling, I open my eyes and smile. “So how was that? I thought it sounded pretty good, even if I’m no Sinatra.”

The bard just gives me this half-cocked smile, while shaking his head. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear ye were serenading yer sandwich. Kind of creepy, tell ye true.” Sure enough, I look at my hooves and my sandwich is still clutched firmly between them. A low applause erupts from the tables around us. “It’s a moot point though. The crowd loves it.”

Looking around, many of the griffons and ponies at nearby tables are clapping and stomping their hooves in approval. “I guess not too many ponies expected dinner and a show,” I note with an amused chuckle. Glancing around, I take note of the stallion I spoke to earlier. He’s one of the few who isn’t applauding. Instead, he covers his face with a hoof and shakes his head.

Walking back to the dorm room, I’m lucky enough to spot Twilight Velvet along one of the hallways. She’s just standing there in front of one of dormitory doors, like she’s just finished chatting up the occupants of the dorm. At first, I consider just walking by and making straight for my room, to ready myself for my upcoming meeting with Clear Conscience. Memory of the letter to Shining Armor rises to the forefront of my mind, leaving me little choice but to freeze in my tracks behind her.

“Hello again,” I greet as she turns away from the door. “That was quite the crazy turn of events this morning, wasn’t it?”

The unicorn mare flinches in surprise at my unexpected greeting. After taking a moment to calm herself, she affords me a weary look. “Good afternoon, Silver,” she replies in a tired voice. She glances back at the door she had just exited before giving me a smile. “Are all of my charges going to be troublesome this year?”

I lower my head in apology. “I deserve that,” I answer, before returning my gaze to her. “Problems with another student, ma’am?”

Velvet shakes her head with a bothered look on her face, beginning to walk away from the door. “In addition to your near expulsion, I’ve had reports of three fights, two anxiety attacks...” She glances at me over her shoulder as I follow suit. “Now the poor thing in the room back there is adamant that coming here was a mistake. She wants to leave tomorrow.”

“Did she say why she wants to leave so soon?” I ask, sympathetically. “Is she homesick?”

“Not at all,” velvet replies sadly. “I’m not sure I should be telling you, but given that there’s only one context to her fears, I suppose it can’t hurt to tell you.” She pauses to look around before continuing. “She’s worried that a cannibal mare—I believe she referred to a rather ancient legend regarding four meat-eating mares—here in the university is going to come and eat her in her sleep. Her roommate found her hurriedly packing, muttering about a gray demon. I managed to talk her down, from leaving, but I think she still wants to be in a different hall.”

In spite of my already pale appearance, I’m fairly certain I blanched upon hearing this. Did I really traumatise somepony to the point that they think I’m some kind of Hannibal Lecter in pony skin? “Oh jeez.” It’s all I can utter in my stunned state. We continue on a bit longer down the hallway, growing closer to my dorm room.

“I didn’t know if you’d be comfortable in me telling her why you’re the way you are,” she says warily. “If she could hear that, she might not think you’re so bad, but I know that your past is a bit touchy for you.”

Spotting my door ahead, I stop on the spot. “What’s her name?” I ask firmly. “It might be best if I go talk to her in your stead. I want her to know that I’m not a monster, and I figure it’s better if she hears it straight from the horse’s mouth.”

Turning to face me, Velvet gives me an unsure look. “Are you sure?” At my vigorous nod, she continues, “Her name is Ice Blossom. If you could speak with her, or—better yet—befriend her, that would be wonderful.”

“Sure, no problem,” I reply, softly. “I’ll stop by to see her after I return from my appointment.” I smile glancing at my door. “While I have you here, do you think maybe you could do me a favor? I have a letter of thanks and apology I’d really like to get to Shining Armor for saving my hide today, but I have no idea how long it’ll take to get to him through official channels.”

She smiles knowingly at me. “If you can help me with Ice Blossom, I think I can help you with your letter.”

Author's Notes:

Nothing much to say here other than the song scene was very much a blast to write.

Next chapter: Introduction of two characters mentioned but not yet seen. Yay.

Edit 30/11/2013: 'Fly me to the Moon' has been properly ponified. Can't believe I missed this one when I went back accounting for the new rules.