I let out a resigned sigh and did what I knew best… weaving magic. Playing with illusions had been one of my favorite fields since I was a colt; after all, it was my very first spell, one I had overused to exhaustion back then.
"Form a line of colts and another of fillies. I'll go one by one—"
Before I could even finish giving instructions, Scootaloo was already in front of me, shoving the other fillies aside.
"Here starts the line! Behind me! Everypony in order!" She stretched her wings wide, trying to look taller as she took command of the crowd.
"Professor Wizbell," Apple Bloom came closer, glancing nervously at the growing line, "could we maybe make another line for fillies? There's too many of us."
I nodded at once. "Hm, yes, help me make another line, please."
With a small gesture, I enchanted the nearest colt so harmless sparks flickered across his coat like fireflies. His eyes went wide, and soon laughter spread across the group.
In no time, I had three lines before me: the shorter line of colts standing in the middle, flanked by two much longer lines of fillies on the sides.
They started throwing requests at me one after another—abstract, colorful, and chaotic. I did my best to keep up, granting illusions that shimmered over their coats, horns, or hooves. Some wanted to shine, others wanted fire or ice, and some just wanted to copy what their friends had. That, at least, made the work faster.
Minutes later, the yard had turned into a festival of imagination. Colts and fillies ran in circles, some roaring like dragons, others pretending to be great magicians, princesses, or heroines from their own stories.
I let myself watch the scene for a moment, amused. Illusion spells may not last long, but the joy they spark… that's more than enough.
I couldn't help but laugh a few times as I watched them play. Their little games were so full of energy and imagination that even I had to admit they were contagious.
"Excuse me…"
A timid voice pulled me from my thoughts. A small filly approached, a golden crown floating and slowly spinning above her head—one of the illusions I had just cast. She kept her eyes low, pawing at the grass with her hoof as if trying to gather courage.
"Hmm? Yes, little one, tell me," I said gently, turning toward her.
She hesitated a moment longer before blurting out: "Do you know any magic that… that could turn me into… a human?"
Lyra? Another fanatic of humans? I mused inwardly, raising a brow. Well, they are mythological creatures in this world…
"Eh… yes. Yes, I do."
"Really?!"
The filly's eyes grew wide, and before I knew it, she had reared up on her hind legs, clinging to me to look straight into my eyes, as if searching for any trace of a lie.
Her excitement reminded me so much of Lyra that I couldn't stop a quiet chuckle from escaping. Exactly the same. Down to the desperate sparkle in the eyes.
"You're serious, aren't you?!" she asked breathlessly, her whole body trembling with hope.
"Careful with your balance," I warned softly, steadying her with my magic. "I'm going to change you now."
"Yes! Don't worry, I'm good at standing on two legs. Look at me!"
She pushed away from me and strutted proudly across the grass on her hind legs, placing her hooves on her hips with a grin. The scene was so absurdly similar to Lyra that I had to bite my tongue not to laugh outright. If only her coat were mint-green, it would be perfect.
"Very well then," I muttered with a sigh. I released the spell, and a wave of magic washed over her. Her body shimmered as the illusion took hold, shifting from an awkward, stiff posture to something more natural—more humanlike.
"Woah!"
She waved her new arms in awe, staggering a little before finding her balance again. Her eyes sparkled brighter than before, as though the entire world had just opened to her.
Yes… another Lyra, reborn in miniature. What is it with ponies and their obsession with humans?
Here it comes… three… two…
"What are these things?!" the filly exclaimed, staring at her new hands in wide-eyed wonder. Where her hooves had been, strange appendages now flexed and curled clumsily at her command.
"Cool! It feels… different!" She wiggled her fingers, giggling. "Hehehe! I'm a human female! Is this what they really look like?!"
Her whole body trembled with excitement as she examined herself, turning her hands over, touching her muzzle, and trying to stand taller—as if to match the image she carried in her imagination.
"No, not exactly," I corrected calmly. "Humans are very different. This spell only copies certain aspects of what happened during Discord's last prank. It's a pony-friendly transformation."
Of course I knew this—Lyra had studied it deeply, and I had lived through it myself. This wasn't a true human body but more of a hybrid illusion: perhaps one-fifth human, the rest still pony.
"It doesn't even change your metabolism or the structure of your teeth," I added absentmindedly, more to myself than to her.
But she wasn't listening. She was too busy flexing her new arms and squealing at every movement. She even tried to snap her fingers, managing only an awkward twitch before bursting into laughter again.
"The spell will last until recess ends," I told her, watching her antics with an amused sigh. "That gives you about ten minutes."
The chaos only grew when Peach Pop started running unsteadily after the other ponies. Nopony wanted to be touched by what she now proudly called her "fingers." The foals scattered, shrieking and laughing, as if she carried some forbidden curse.
It was especially amusing to watch Scootaloo dash ahead of the herd, leaving a streak of her mane behind like a fiery trail—so much like Flash or Rainbow Dash when they flew at top speed. She wasn't alone either; six more foals joined her, the seven of them pretending to be Wonderbolts, shouting out imaginary flight formations as they raced in circles.
Apple Bloom had gone in a different direction. Her mane shimmered with a flowing, magical glow, drifting weightlessly in the air just like the ethereal manes of the princesses. She trotted proudly with her head held high, giggling every time the illusory strands of her mane sparkled brighter with her movements. The other fillies around her bowed dramatically, feeding her joy as she played the role of a princess in all her royal glory.
Sweetie Belle, meanwhile, slipped away into her own little world. She hummed softly as she walked an invisible runway, tossing her mane and striking poses while magical dresses shimmered into existence around her. A small group of fillies clapped and cheered for her, completely swept up in her performance.
I could only shake my head and smile. So much magic, and yet, all they need is imagination.
It was funny, really… me, a unicorn with so much magical knowledge and ability, reduced to granting the simplest of illusions. Yet, that was all they wanted. So simple, so fleeting—just sparks, glowing manes, dresses of light, or silly transformations.
And still… I couldn't help but find it endearing. Their innocent joy, their laughter, the way their eyes shone brighter than any spell I could ever cast. How tender… the innocence of foals.
Just as recess was coming to an end, Miss Cheerilee stepped out of the Schoolhouse, holding a cup brimming with ice cream. She walked with the calm of somepony who had earned a few minutes of peace—until her eyes landed on the chaos before her.
Her jaw dropped, and with it, so did her ice cream.
I reacted on instinct, catching the cup with my magic before it hit the ground.
"Impressive, isn't it?" I said with a laugh, floating the cup back to her. She blinked twice before taking it with a shaky hoof.
"I… I need to sit down," she muttered, sinking onto the nearest bench. Her eyes kept darting across the playground, struggling to process what she was seeing. "This isn't something you see every day. For a moment I thought I was losing my mind—especially when I saw Snails blowing fire at Button."
I smirked. "Illusion fire. No burns, just screams."
Cheerilee pressed a hoof to her chest, as if reassuring herself her heart was still in place. "You, Professor Wizbell, are either the best help I could ever ask for… or the end of my sanity."
I was about to step closer so I wouldn't have to shout when Cheerilee suddenly cut me off.
"Oh! Look at the time! It's time to resume classes. You should start getting ready, I'll ring the bell!"
She jumped forward in a hurry, grabbed the rope, and tugged hard. The bell rang loud and clear, announcing the end of recess. At the same time, the second mechanism in my spells triggered, dissolving every illusion I had cast.
"Aww, I was having so much fun!"
"I wanted to keep running!"
"We still haven't done the Thundercloud Breakwind formation!"
The foals groaned in protest, but even so, they filed back into the classroom, dragging their hooves but smiling.
"Remember, unicorns," Cheerilee called as she stepped inside, "you'll have your magic lesson with Professor Wizbell."
She retrieved her ice cream cup on the way in, took a calming spoonful, and resumed her usual teacherly poise as if nothing had happened.
I watched her go and lifted an eyebrow, tilting my head slightly. But I gave it no further thought and simply turned away, heading toward the small classroom set aside for my magic lessons.
Inside, a few fillies were already seated, their balloons from yesterday's homework neatly placed on their desks as proof of their practice. The sight made me nod with a hint of approval. At least some had taken it seriously.
Snips and Snails plopped down right at the front, pounding the little desk with eager hooves. Their eyes flicked toward me again and again, wide with impatience, waiting for me to begin as if they were about to witness the grandest magic show of their lives.
Well… I suppose in a way, that's exactly what this is for them.
---————————---
Class had been… chaotic, to say the least. More colts showed up today, and since they had missed the first lesson, they quickly fell behind. I ended up assigning simple distraction activities to the fillies just to balance the rhythm and give the colts a chance to catch up.
The competitive looks that passed between them didn't go unnoticed: the colts, feeling challenged, pushed themselves harder, while the fillies enjoyed the small advantage of already having one class ahead. It was exhausting to juggle both sides, but somehow, it worked.
Like yesterday, I stayed after to help with the rest of the class, forgetting again about returning home early. By the time I finally stepped outside, it was already dismissal time—and several mares had gathered in front of the Schoolhouse.
I helped the foals gather their things, lightened their loads with a bit of magic so they could leave without trouble, and watched them scatter into the crowd.
Then… I stepped out to head home.
"!!!"
Dozens of mares turned toward me almost at once. Their eyes caught me for a single instant, sharp and heavy, before they all returned to their conversations as if nothing had happened.
But I could still feel it. Their gazes lingered, invisible weight pressing down on me.
I folded my ears back. That wasn't normal. Not at all. It was even more intense than this morning… and in just a single moment.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Rarity approaching, Sweetie Belle at her side. The filly's voice bubbled with joy, recounting something that made her beam. Rarity listened with a warm smile, her eyes, however, already set on me.
"Hello, Wizbell! How was your second day as a teacher?!" Rarity's voice carried its usual elegance, though there was a nervous edge to it. "Sweetie tells me you cast a spell that created magical dresses. I would simply love to… to see them sometime…"
She trailed off, her composure slipping for a moment. Taking a quick breath, she steadied herself, but when her eyes met mine again, there was a flicker of concern. Subtly, she glanced over her shoulder at something behind her, then turned back, her brows now furrowed. Something was clearly bothering her.
"Sweetheart, wait here for me, please. There's something I need to discuss with Professor Wizbell—privately."
With a graceful but firm nod, she gestured for me to follow. A handkerchief floated from her purse, unfolding in the air with meticulous precision as she turned away.
Confused, intrigued, and a little unsettled, I followed her. Whatever she wanted to say, it was important—I could feel it in the weight of her tone.
We didn't walk far—just enough to be out of sight, behind the Schoolhouse.
Rarity stopped abruptly and turned to face me, pressing a perfumed handkerchief over her nose.
"Before anything else, darling… could you please conceal or remove your scent? Any spell that erases it will do."
I raised an eyebrow at the odd request but complied. Several spells came to mind, yet I settled on a stealth ward—one designed to erase all traces of scent for as long as the enchantment lasted.
"There. Now… what was it you wanted to tell me?"
Her expression hardened. "Pinkie, Twilight, and even Flash have told me you're not the sort of stallion who enjoys attention. That's the only reason I'm still speaking to you, Wizbell. Otherwise, I might think you were… promiscuous. Desperate for attention."
Her voice tightened with indignation, her brows drawn low as her eyes bored into mine. "I dislike meddling in the lives of others, but I expected better from you. From the gentleman you showed yourself to be when we first met. Not… such deplorable acts."
She lowered the handkerchief at last, though the sharp perfume still lingered in the air. A breeze carried it toward me, and only then did I realize how strongly it clung to the cloth. But more important than the smell was her expression: the clear disappointment of somepony who felt I had let her down.
Deplorable? Promiscuous? What in Equestria is she talking about…?