I felt the change immediately when the disillusion spell activated. That constant sensation of eyes drilling into my back, following me from every direction, simply vanished.
Finally… some peace.
With calm restored, I remembered what Caramel had said. I searched the crowd for the faces of other stallions, expecting to find them as usual—strolling around or doing the same thing Caramel had done a moment ago: walking hidden, almost sneaking away from the rest. But there were none.
Where did they all go? This can't be a coincidence.
At the stalls that had once belonged to stallions, I now saw only mares attending, their number at least sixty percent greater than on any other day. Even the air of the marketplace felt different—heavy, as if something invisible lingered between them and me.
This isn't just a change of staff. Something happened.
I extended my magical senses and confirmed what I suspected: the stallions hadn't disappeared entirely. They were still working, yes… but out of sight. They no longer promoted their crafts, no longer displayed their goods with confidence. They remained hidden, confined to back workshops, basements, and corners where my magic still detected their presence.
I can feel them, busy at work down there.
A strange behavior…
I kept moving at a light trot, watching everything with curiosity at this peculiar social event.
I tried to recall if anything like this had ever happened before… but my memories always came with me holding a magic book in my hooves, practicing spells, writing formulas, tangled up in academics, or else spending time with family and friends. No… nothing like this comes to mind.
Strange. Well, what does it matter? Maybe it's just a local custom, something tied to misandry or… who knows. Those social rules that always seemed twisted to me. The so-called "feminine chivalry" and its ridiculous codes of conduct to "court" a stallion… Ugh, I didn't want to remember that.
I shook my head to chase away those thoughts, and with the motion my mane swayed as well.
It didn't take me long to reach the Schoolhouse at my steady pace, but before I arrived I caught sight of Flash flying low at high speed. He wasn't alone. The discomfort written on his face gave him away, and right behind him, Rainbow Dash followed at the same pace… or maybe faster.
"Where do you think you're going?! You said you'd accept my challenges whenever they came, and today I want to compete!" Rainbow shouted, hurling herself at him in the air, trying to grab him in a fierce hug.
Flash, however, slipped past her as if she were nothing more than a gust of wind.
Rainbow Dash clenched her teeth and yelled:
—"Don't run, Flash Storm! Come here and show me how tough you are in a duel!"
The speed with which they darted about shook the trees, leaving a trail of pressure in the air. Some birds lost control of their flight for a few seconds before recovering.
Well… something normal is happening this morning.
I dispelled the shield I had raised to block the dust and walked on toward the entrance of the Schoolhouse. I released the magic that hid me, but wove another to step in without making a sound. Immediately, the smell of glue and crayons hit me, mixed with whispers and childish complaints: colts who couldn't hold their crayon properly, or had snapped it by gripping too hard.
Miss Cheerilee, who had been busy demonstrating how to hold a crayon with one's teeth, raised her head proudly and swept her gaze across the class. She froze when her eyes met mine. I had been watching quietly for a while.
Her ears shot up and a blush spread across her face. She offered me a timid smile, the crayon still between her lips. I suppose she's embarrassed to be seen like this. I returned a small, acknowledging smile with a nod, then turned my attention to the foals, all busy trying to master the art of writing with crayons in their teeth.
My respect for Pinkie only grew as I watched the scene: foals breaking crayons, drooling on their papers and forced to start over. I had to bite back my laughter at the chaos.
I kept watching silently for a few more seconds before deciding to intervene with a bit of magic. I approached the nearest foal, who turned out to be a filly with a red mane tied with a pink bow.
As soon as I got close, a familiar aroma reached me: apples. Of course… an Apple. Her name came to me at once: Apple Bloom, Applejack's younger sister.
I leaned over her parchment, expecting to see the usual scribbles. But no… instead of random scratches, there were differential equations and advanced formulas for calculating the area of a wave. Well, there's talent here, no doubt… though that doesn't stop her from breaking crayons.
"Be gentler," I advised her calmly. "The problems aren't going anywhere. And besides, this value here is wrong."
Apple Bloom gave a little jump, startled.
"Huh?! Oh! Really?!"
Her accent dragged the words with the same force as her sister's. Her big eyes looked at me with a mix of excitement and embarrassment, as if she didn't know whether to feel proud or ashamed that I had seen her advanced notes.
Definitely, this filly has something special… though if she doesn't learn to control her strength, she's going to need a whole barrel of crayons before the day is done.
Apple Bloom's reaction caught the attention of the filly sitting beside her, a unicorn whose pointed horn revealed her eastern ancestry.
"Professor Bell! Good morning!" she exclaimed with enthusiasm, jumping up from her seat and trotting toward me with light steps. Her big eyes sparkled with that pure, childish joy that disarms any attempt at seriousness.
Professor… Bell?
"Professor Bell? Ha!" Apple Bloom laughed, pointing at me quickly. "He's Professor Wizbell!"
The correction spread like a spark in a dry forest. Immediately, murmurs ignited, and within seconds the entire class had realized I was there. Crayons clattered to the floor, parchments were abandoned, and a chorus of voices started calling to me from all directions.
Well… goodbye, silence. Now the real test of the day begins.
Miss Cheerilee quickly regained control of the class, though the curious, amazed glances still followed me every time I helped one of their classmates fix something.
I approached Sweetie Belle, who stood out from the rest for her neat penmanship, worthy of a young noble. I suppose she picked up some of Rarity's habits. While the others struggled just with the basic alphabet, Sweetie was already writing in cursive. It was still childish, and she had much left to master, but it was an impressive start, especially without using magic.
"You remind me of your sister, a little lady in the making, worthy of being called a Belle," I said with amusement.
She puffed up her chest with pride, then melted into a joyful giggle, squirming between embarrassment and satisfaction. I left her alone after fixing her two broken crayons.
"!!!"
"Isn't it amazing?!" Scootaloo jumped in front of me, showing me a sheet filled with colorful scribbles. I assumed it was some abstract art of Rainbow Dash, Flash, and herself—at least, that's what I inferred from the colors she'd used. Truthfully, I couldn't identify anything in the mess.
"Aren't you supposed to be practicing your penmanship?" I tried to sound positive, though I was honestly puzzled at how Scootaloo always seemed to move at her own rhythm… much like a certain weather mare.
"Why? I'm not going to be a writer! Besides, it's boring. Drawing is way cooler!"
Yes, you definitely remind me of Rainbow.
"You remind me a lot of Rainbow…"
"Really?!" Her eyes shone like stars.
"Uh… yes. Go on, keep doing awesome things," I replied, while repairing all her crushed crayons with magic and retrieving those that had rolled across the floor, as if trying to escape her in order to survive.
...
While helping everyone, I noticed a few unfamiliar faces. Not many, but among them was a small group of unicorn colts I hadn't seen the day before. There were several, and none of them looked comfortable. In fact, like most of the others, they wore the same expression of annoyance and resignation. More than once, I caught them wrinkling their noses when they smelled themselves… strange.
I decided to let it pass and continued with my work until my eyes landed on the schedule framed on one of the walls. It now included the hour of magic: my class. The clock was just about to mark the first recess.
I stepped out of the classroom and looked at the clock hanging on the wall.
"[Tempus]" I chant.
A small magical circle appeared in front of me, with two tiny hands marking the time. I followed it patiently until it struck 9:30 a.m. Then, with a magical flick, I rang the bell.
"Yay!" a voice cheered.
"FOOD!"
"Last one out is a cow!"
"FREEDOM!"
To my complete lack of surprise, the first one out was Scootaloo, blasting forward like a rocket. She was also the one who screamed "FREEDOM!" at the top of her lungs.
One by one, the rest of the foals spilled out of the classroom, carrying lunchboxes and snacks, all fighting to be the first out the door.
"Slow down and line up!" Miss Cheerilee's firm voice cut through the multicolored chaos. The scene reminded me of my own days at Celestia's school.
I wonder how Miss Maple is doing now with the new generation… and as the vice principal.
Miss Cheerilee stepped up beside me, watching closely as the foals ran and played in the yard. I kept my eyes on them too, until I noticed something odd: she took a step closer. I thought she'd stop there… but no. She kept inching forward, slow and silent, until her shadow overlapped mine.
Then she drew in a long, deep breath, as if trying to steady herself.
"I'll go check that they're not fighting or playing too far off," I said, blurting the first excuse that came to mind.
"Ah, uh… yes, of course, go ahead," she answered. Her ears pinned back the moment I spoke, and when I turned to look at her, she gave me a quick nod, distracted.
While Cheerilee took another deep breath and refocused on the foals, I moved on, first after the hyperactive ones who had dashed too close to the forest.
On the way, I noticed several little groups gathered, eating in different spots around the Schoolhouse. I couldn't help but see my reflection in them: memories of sharing lunch with Twilight, Lyra, Sunburst, and more of my classmates under the shade of the old apple tree.
Good times… How many of these foals will find their true calling, their purpose, the thing that will ignite their passion?
"I hate these days!" one complained.
"Yeah, me too!" another answered.
"My mom makes me bathe with that awful soap… I can't stand it!"
"Well, you'll have to get used to it, that's what those baths are for!"
"And those gross perfumes! I don't even like wearing perfume…"
A group of foals sat on a pile of straw, grumbling in chorus about the baths and perfumes they had been forced to endure that morning.
I don't remember anything like this in my childhood… yes, definitely a Ponyville cultural thing.
Seeing that there was no real problem, I let them be and continued my rounds. That's when two foals stopped me in my tracks.
"Hey! You're our new teacher! Are you going to teach us powerful and amazing magic?!" exclaimed a small, chubby unicorn colt, bouncing in place.
The other, a taller and thinner colt, looked at me with eyes full of curiosity.
"Yes. In fact, after recess you'll have class with me until noon," I replied naturally.
That was all it took for the chubby colt to practically explode with excitement.
"You heard that, Snails! We're going to learn magic! We'll be wizards!" he shouted, shoving his friend to make sure he was listening.
"Yes, Snips… we'll be wizards!" Snails nodded abruptly, grinning with the same childish joy.
"I'm glad to see your enthusiasm, and I hope you keep it. But… I'm curious. If you're so excited to learn magic, why didn't you come yesterday?" I tilted my head.
"Ugh… my mom made me stay home and take a stupid bath with some weird soap and shampoo to get rid of a smell we had," Snips grumbled, wrinkling his nose.
"Yeah, me too! I hate those baths!" added Snails with a look of disgust.
"Huh? Did your classmates have to do the same thing?" I asked, trying to confirm what I already suspected.
"I guess so. They always make us do it every so often… it's annoying. So, are we going to learn powerful magic?!" Snips switched tone in an instant, shaking with excitement.
Forced baths, perfumes, general discomfort… yep, definitely a Ponyville custom. I don't remember my classmates… oh, right, I didn't have classmates. Ha.
"For now you need to learn the basics," I answered calmly. "Later on, I'll show you awesome things. But here, take a gift."
I struck my hoof against the ground for dramatic effect. Two magical circles flared instantly and enchanted the colts.
"A magic circle! Snails, you're breathing fire!" Snips screamed, eyes bulging in awe.
"You too!" Snails pointed back, just as amazed.
The two burst out laughing and soon ran off, eager to show everyone what they could do.
I left them to it and continued my patrol along the forest's edge, making sure everything was in order. As I walked, I began to visualize how to weave a magical safety net that would limit the play area and keep the foals from straying too far.
Lost in calculations and runic patterns, I didn't notice until too late that Snips and Snails had already caused chaos. Some foals shrieked and stumbled back, terrified as the pair blew fire straight into their faces. Fire that didn't burn, just an illusion… but they didn't know that.
When I came back from the forest's edge, a whole herd of foals rushed at me. They all shouted different things, but at the core they all wanted the same: to be enchanted.
"I want to sparkle like gems!"
"I want to blow snowflakes!"
"I want my shadow to tap-dance!"
"Ooh, ooh, me, me! I want to leave a trail when I run!"
They swarmed me like an avalanche of voices, each request more absurd and colorful than the last.
Perfect… now I'm a walking spell machine.
I glanced toward Miss Cheerilee for help. She gave me a look full of annoyance, clear enough for me to read the message without words: You brought this on yourself.
Her mane was a little frazzled, no doubt from dealing with the usual chaos. And just when every foal's eyes had turned toward me, Cheerilee spun on her hooves and retreated back into the Schoolhouse, as if seeking refuge from the storm about to break.
Great. Now I'm the perfect target for this stampede of impossible requests.