Swiftword held the door open after himself, and watched as the smaller stallion stomped the snow off of his hooves before entering.
 
The single large room was growing cold, after the fire that had been kept roaring the entire day had waned to embers, and the small bodies that had filled the neat rows of seats no longer warmed it with their heat. It was dark; the only light coming from the faint glow in the fireplace and the lantern Swiftword had carefully hung from a rafter. The glass windows lining the walls didn’t provide any light. The outside appeared completely dark, aside from the occasional glint of snow being stirred by the wind that drifted close enough to reflect the light from the inside.
 
Swiftword quickly walked over to the fireplace, putting on more logs and starting to revive it. Still, he knew from experience that it wouldn’t be able to warm the room up to the point where he and his joints would be comfortable. For a second he briefly considered listening to his students’ pleas to pause school for a while, so they could prepare for the Midwinter Holidays -though in his case, mainly so he could lock himself in his house under a mountain of blankets until spring.
 
He sighed, and rose up on creaky legs, to slowly, reluctantly, make his way away from the now roaring fire and over to his desk. No, he had to keep their lessons going for as long as he could now during winter when they actually had time for it. The rest of the year belonged to working the fields; there was simply too much his students needed to do on their families’ farms to prioritize school. It was a bit annoying, but Swiftword definitely understood -as much as he enjoyed learning, he knew everyone needed to actually eat to survive.
 
As he mused, the other stallion had shimmied out of his cape, boots and backcoat. He’d pulled down his scarf, revealing the strange mane-colored fur that covered his jaw. It looked quite odd, but Swiftword assumed it was a pony thing. He did notice though, that the scarf wasn’t removed completely. He hoped it meant that the pony was just as invested as Swiftword was in keeping this meeting brief, so they could both go back to their warm homes.
 
He finally sank down into his seat with a shiver at the cold wood and looked out over his domain of tiny chairs and desks. Frowning a bit as he noticed that someone had forgotten to put away their slate and chalk properly. But, that’s for tomorrow. For now he focused on the reason they were there.
 
“Apologies Master Barley. I would offer you something, but I try to not keep food or drink here where the children can get to it.”
 
“Oh, that’s alright.” The other stallion carefully sat down in the chair Swiftword had placed across the desk. Swiftword swallowed a grin at how perfectly he fit in it -seeing as how it was made for foals. To cover it up, he shuffled with the parchments in front of him for a few seconds. Considering how to hold this, assured to be difficult, conversation.
 
He finally decided to start by laying down some groundwork; it wouldn’t hurt no matter the direction this took. “Right. Well, thank you so much for coming here. The reason I asked you to is, if it is not too intrusive… may I ask you some questions regarding…” Swiftword paused, realising he didn’t actually know the official term. “…your, ah, apologies, what is their name? Symbols?”
 
The pony blinked, looking confused for a second. Then his eyes cleared, and he shifted in the seat to show the ear of grain on his flank.
 
“Oh, you mean our marks?” He shot Swiftword an embarrassed look. “My Father always referred to them as ‘Cute Marks’, but I don’t know if that is just something he made up. My sibling as I just call them ‘Marks’ or sometimes ‘Talent Marks’”
 
He leaned forward conspirationally. “Honestly, I think our Father just like messing with us”
 
Swiftword swallowed another grin, and nodded. “Yes, your.. marks. May I ask some questions regarding them? I understand that your son and daughter may also manifest them?”
 
Master Barley nodded, and sat down properly in the seat again. “It’s a possibility. Of my half-siblings, neither my sister or youngest brother ever got one, while my other brother did. But it’s not… my daughter definently won’t get hers for another five years or so, if she gets it at all. A foal needs to know themselves to get it, and that usually takes a while. And while my son could, possibly, get one any day now, I do not see how that would affect his schooling…?”
 
He trailed of, leaving the unasked question hanging in the air -why Swiftword had asked him there urgently right in the middle of Midwinter preparations. Almost every adult ws needed to prepare the feast and set the traps, so Swiftword usually tried to keep the parents necessary involvement in the shcool to a minimum during those hectic last days.
 
And Swiftword knew he maybe could have waited until spring on this too, or at the very least until after Midwinter, but… he’d had the idea a couple of days ago, and it wouldn’t leave him alone. It kept him up at night, and distracted him during lessons -and he had thought he needed to start as soon as he could, before she found it for something else. Well, if what Master Barley had told him was the truth, it was not quite as urgent as he’d feared. Still, it would probably be best to try to get the information now anyway, when Master Barley had taken the time to come to this meeting. He still needed to know if what he thought was even possible. Though, he thought it might be best to not let on why it was so important in the first place…
 

 
And so, the old stallion opted to ignore his companions confusion and implied question. Instead just pressing on with the original topic.
 
“Well. As their teacher, I believe it may be beneficial for me to better understand how these.. marks, could affect the direction their studies take them”
 
“Oh, of course” Master Barley hadn’t stopped giving him a confused look, but still grinned at him. Seeming to decide to ignore the odd behaviour in the face of Swiftwords investment in his children’s best interest. “I’m no scholar myself I fear, but I’ll try to answer any questions you may have”
 
“Very well, thank you.” How to lead to it…. “To start with, could you just… try to explain how you receive them, and what it is they do? I have of course read quite a lot of second-eared accounts regarding this subject, but I would like a description directly from the first mouth as well.”
 
Master Barley nodded, and seemed to think for a second. “Well, a mark is… you get it when you realise what you are meant to do with your life. It’s like a combination of what you like to do and what you are good at.”
 
“Your ‘talent’ you mentioned.”
 
“Exactly. And when, when you get that, when you feel it, you get your mark.”
 
“Hm”
 
“And what the mark does…” Master Barley worried his lip a bit “…it’s, uh, it’s not really…. It just shows what your talent is. Your talent is what makes you better at something. Like, uh, my brother and I! My talent is farming, so I’m much better at it than he is. He can’t even keep dandelions alive. But his talent is carpentry, and he’s a fantastic carpenter. And as such, his mark shows a saw and hammer, while mine-” at this he shifted again to point at his flank. “is of course this grain.”
 
“Ah, so… your son is showing great promise in mathematics and Mistress Mortar tells me he’s very naturally gifted in masonry.” Swiftword smiled back at Master Barley’s now beaming expression. “He might receive a mark in one of those?”
 
“Well, maybe! Or he finds something else he’s talented at. Or he will not get a mark at all. We’ll just have to wait and see I suppose.”
 
Swiftword leaned forward and put his hooved together in front of his muzzle, taking a few seconds to think.
 
“So..” He eventually continued. “If he does receive a mark in… say, masonry. Does that mean that he will be…. naturally better at it than horses with the same amount of experience?”
 
Master Barley sat back, and hesitated with answering. He stared at Swiftword with an unreadable expression, and Swiftword tried to keep his face neutral but reassuring. Hoping to coax the answer out of the other stallion.
 
“I don’t… hrmmm. My father told me that…” He gave Swiftword an apologetic look. “Yes, a pony with a mark for something is better than other species at it.”
 
“But!” he quickly leaned forwards, hooves outstretched towards Swiftword, and continued before he could respond. “He also said that in return, we’re worse at everything that isn’t our talent! So, uh, I’ll always be worse than you at everything that isn’t farming”
 
Swiftword nodded and sat back again. That was the groundwork he needed -now to get to the main part of this conversation. He looked at the increasingly sweaty and nervous-looking pony in front of him, considering. He needed to know, but… he didn’t know how the other stallion would take it. Or if he’d accept the reason…
 
“I am unsure how to phrase this, so I will just ask outright…. is it… possible to, affect, what talent a pony will have? Could someone… change it from what it’s supposed to be by making a foal do certain?”
 

 
The pony’s quick reaction of sitting up straight and pushing away from the desk startled Swiftword enough for him to pause. Outside, wind rattled against the window, and the fire flickered as some of it managed to find it’s way down the chimney. The waving light cast shadows on their faces -the other stallion’s previously open and honest face showing nothing but suspicion. So that was how he would take it. Swiftword quickly switched tracks in the face of rejection, and hurried to continue, hoping to salvage the situation.
 
“Apologies. I ask because I worry about doing so. You see, I was thinking about your son -about his interest in mathematics. Which he might have not had, were it not for my teachings.”
 
He leaned forwards on the desk, trying to bring the other stallion back to their previous comfortable conversation. Master Barley still just looked at him, but with slightly more confusion in his suspicious glare than before. Swiftword pressed on.
 
“I originally wished to ask you here, not because I wished to speak of your marks though, honestly I should have done so a long time ago but because I am currently thinking about creating a special class for some students.”
 
He gave Master Barley a wry smile. “As you may be able to tell by looking at me, I am not in the prime of my life any longer. And while I can still perform my duties- “ He gave a sigh and closed his eyes. “I worry how much longer I will be able to.”
 
He pushed the chair back, and stood up. Walked over a window and looked out at the starry night sky.
 
“There is currently no one in this village who could take over after me. Yes, yes, you will most likely be able to convince another Listener to move here, but I thought…”
 
He turned back to look at the pony, still sitting in the chair. His face was now expressionless. Swiftword hoped it meant he was bringing him back.
 
“A class of the brightest and best students here, who I will teach the basics a Listener would need. Once they are older, if one of them shows promise, I will take them on as my apprentice and teach them how to truly Listen.” He knew Listeners were very well respected; he’d used that fact a lot of times before. He hoped that reminding Master Barley of his second role in their village would make him more trusting in Swiftword’s judement again. He grinned. “Stars know I would feel much more comfortable letting some I’ve personally trained take over once I need to rest, rather than having a stranger come here. And I was hoping…”
 
It also wouldn’t hurt to stroke a father’s ego a bit. He walked back so he was standing in front of the smaller pony, giving the stallion a gentle smile.
 
“Your daughter shows such potential. She’s already reading and writing well ahead of her age, and her brother tells me she’s begun picking up and learning his mathematics homework as well. She practically inhales all new knowledge I put in front of her, and shows such interest in our world. You truly should be proud of her -and of yourself and your wife for raising such a bright filly”
 
Master Barley seemed like he was trying to keep his face as neutral as possible, but Swiftword saw the way his eyes had widened a fraction, and how jaw had gone just slightly slack. Swiftword’s smile started to grow wider, before he stopped himself. Giving Master Barley a concerned look instead.
 
“But as I said -how has my teachings affected your son’s possible talent? I started to worry that if I were to take more of her free time, to teach her deeper knowledge about our world… showing her how to truly listen and speak with the spirits around us… would that have a negative effect on her?”
 
He walked around the desk again, and sat down heavily. Giving Master Barley a tired look.
 
“I just do not know if it is right of me to take up her time and influence her so much that it might change what her mark is. Or if I am supposed to give her and her brother more time to explore themselves by themselves” He paused, and cocked his head at the stunned pony across from him. “Is that not something teachers in you homeland has to deal with as well? I was hoping we could discuss how it is supposed to be done, and perhaps make up a plan on how I should best teach them.”
 
Swiftword smiled in relief internally as Master Barley dropped his neutral expression completely; his face a mix of confusion, awe, and just a smidge of shame over having doubted the Listener across from him. It seemed that that cleared the hostilities quite nicely.
 

 
It took the pony coughing into his scarf and two attempts before he managed to actually speak again.
 
“Ah, of course Master Swiftword. I, hm. I apologise for my assumptions. It is just that my Father has told me stories of ponies taking advantage of not that I actually think you would do so! It was just very familar, and I fear”
 
Swiftword decided to spare him shoving his hoof deeper into his mouth and just waved him off. “No, no, my question was poorly phrased. Your protective instincts are both understandable and commendable”
 
Master Barley nodded hesitantly, still appearing a bit shaken. His jaw worked as it seemed as though he was considering what to best say next. Swiftword had to stop himself from leaning forward, excited to see if he’d finally get the answer to the original question.
 
“Well, if I’m going to be honest, Master Swiftword,” he finally started, slowly and carefully choosing his words at first. “You asked me how… how pony teachers handle talents? And of course you’d come to me, I’m practially the only pony here. And they’re my children, so of course you’d ask me, that’s, that’s just…”
 
It seemed the careful deliberation had only lasted so long, and the pony was now full on rambling. Swiftword was considering how to interject and get him back on track, when he stopped. Took a shakey breath, and gave Swiftword a sheepish look.
 
“The truth is, I have no memory whatsoever of my Father’s homeland. I was far too young when he moved us here to even have started talking, let alone having gone to school. As far as I am concerned, Jóraland is my home.” He pursed his lips a bit. “…I could send a letter with the next caravan and ask my sister if she remembers more than me if you wish? I think she might have had been in school for a few years back when we came here. Though it’ll take a while for an answer… noone will go through the pass at this time of year. But…”
 
Swiftword just waited, hoping he’d continue.
 
Eventually, he did. Though Swiftword got the distinct impression that he was speaking more to himself this time, his gaze fixed on the darkness outside the windows.
 
“But… I think, what you’re describing, is fine? I… I am a bit ashamed to realise that I haven’t actually thought about this. You ask if it’s right of you to meddle with their destinies, but what does that say about me? As their Father, don’t I affect them so much more…? My own Father forced me to work on the fields in the beginning, it’s not like I wanted that until years later when I grew to love it. Then again, I do love it. If it hadn’t been something I could love and enjoy, would him forcing me even have mattered for my talent? JJ was also forced to help out, and he got his mark in something completely different. Though, also, I couldn’t have gotten my mark at if I hadn’t ever been on a farm. Hrm.” He shot Swiftword an embarrassed look, seeming to realise he’d been rambling again. “I’m sorry. It’s a bit… that you had to ask for me to really think about it. What I do to influence them.”
 
Swiftword was deep in thought. If he’d understood Master Barley’s stream of thoughts correctly, then, well. It wasn’t exactly what he’d hoped to hear, but it was also better than his worst case scenario. It could work.
 
For now, he just smiled at the fidgeting pony. “There is absolutely no need to feel bad or worry. It’s part of my work, my calling, to think and moralise about how I influence children in a scholarly setting. And even then I did not think about this until now, when I’ve had your son in my class for years. And if you wish for my thoughts on the ubject…. From what I heard from you here, your Father was just… parenting you, was he not? I have no children of my own unless you count all my students of course but is that not part of what being a parent is. To guide your children until they can make those decisions by themselves. And sometimes that means forcing them to do things they do not want to. In your case it helped you find yourself, but for… I presume this ‘JJ’ is your brother? He learned a hard days work, which never hurts, and also found out more about himself by learning what he was not meant to do.”
 
As he talked, Master Barley nodded along, seeming to calm himself down in the familiar sound of a speech from an experienced teacher.
 
“It seems to me that guiding children down paths and teaching them lessons they might not initally enjoy, is not wrong as long as the child’s wishes is taken into account once it becomes clear that the direction truly is not for them. Children often reject things on flimsy to no basis -or because of the folly and impatence of youth. So I do not think it is wrong to force them to truly give it an honest chance before they discard it entirely.”
 
Swiftword paused, before shaking out his mane and giving a slight huffing laugh. “And there I go, lecturing again -and you are not even one of my students!”
 
Acutely aware of the pony’s rapt attention on him, the old stallion let himself chuckle for a bit, as to ease the serious conversation back into a more friendly mood.
 
“How about we try to wrap this up and go back to the actual reason I asked you here instead, hmm?” he finally said, and gave the pony a smile. “Should put her in my special class? And how I should deal with the possible dilemma of me teaching her how to Listen clashing with her discovery of her talent? It’s up to you, she’s your daughter -I just have the privilege of teaching her for a few hours each day”
 
Master Barley looked dazed.
 
He litreally shook himself back into the conversation, and gathered himself up a bit. “I’d…I’d have to speak with my wife and see what she says.”
 
Hiding dissapointment, Swiftword started to nod understandlingly. Only to be pleasantly suprised when Master Barley continued. “But I think it will be okay. I… it’s years away for her before her mark becomes an issue. Even if she is not happy immedietly -as I imagine it will give her more work and no foal likes that I do not think making her give it an honest try will hurt her. As you said.”
 
He then ducked his head, and sheepishly added. “Also, I forgot -thank you. Thank you so much for the kind words regarding my daughter. And for even considering her to be one of your apprentices. I did not make that clear, but I truly am grateful for what you are doing for both my children. And even if my wife does not agree to placing out daughter in this new class, it’s truly an honor that you offered it”
 
Swiftword felt very pleased and let it show on his face. Glad that the pony seemed to understand the magnitude of what he was truly offering.
 
“Well, as I said, she really is one of my brightest students -it’d be a shame to not offer her a place.” Swiftword started to stand up again. “But please don’t feel pressured -in the end, it is up to you and your wife what is best for your daughter.”
 
He was relativley pleased with how the meeting had gone, as he aad most the answers he needed for now. But the cold was uncomfortable and Master Barley had given him a convenient end to the conversation by needing to speak with his wife.
 
He slowly made his way around the desk, popping his joints a bit as he did. “And that is all I asked you for here today. Please excuse the short meeting on quick notice -I just got very worried about your children’s talents once I thought of it, and felt the need to ask as soon as possible. I may be growing a bit paranoid in my old age. …It runs in the family I fear, my Mother had a fire going at all times so spirits wouldn’t enter through the chimney”
 
The pony gave him a big relieved smile and nodded, jumping down from his seat as well. “Oh, my uncle is the same -never leaves home without iron shoes on. And it’s no worries -something tells me your schedule is a lot busier than mine. Even with all the Midwinter preparations my children seem intent of hindering with!”
 
Together they made their way over to the entrance, exchanging a few more half-jokes on the way. Swiftword waited patiently as the pony geared up in winter clothes again, which took in an not inconsiderable amount of time considering just how many layers he was wearing. When he was finally all geared up, the conversation had finally sombered again. They said the obligatory pleasantries, and Master Barley had just reached to push the door open, when he paused.
 

 
The pony turned to face the larger horse again; the only thing visible between the hood of his cape and the scarf was his two large eyes glinting in the firelight. He hesitated. Then he took a breath, and asked in an almost hushed voice;
 
“Sorry, but… I have to ask something. … Is… is it true, that you have been visited by Luna in your dreams?”
 
Swiftword had started to tense up a bit at the beginning, fearing that the pony would ask him more about previous conversation. Only to sigh a bit in relief when the actual question came to light. It was a common one, and he could almost tell beforehoof how this conversation would play out.
 
Still, he couldn’t help but let a bit of pride enter his voice as he answered. “Yes. On several occasions I have met her in the nightscape. …May I ask why you wonder?”
 
“I was just remembering, now that we talked about my father and my daughter… they are both Hers” He gave Swiftword an imploring look, that didn’t quite dare to be hopeful. “Since my father was Hers… does… would she know what happened to him? Or to any of her children once they…”
 
Yes, the conversation was progressing exactly as Swiftword had thought it would. He’d had the very same one several times before, following an almost identical script. He looked away, counted a couple of heartbeats, and glanced back at the pony, giving him a sympathetic look.
 
“I fear that, while I have tried to ask her, this is one question she will not or cannot give me an answer to. …It’s possible we’re not meant to know it.” Pause, count one, two and, “I am sorry”
 
Master Barley sighed though his scarf, but nodded. “Yes, I figured. But I thought it was worth asking”
 
“Of course. It’s natural to wonder when it comes to death”
 
Master Barley nodded again, and this time reached out to actually place his hoof on the door. “Well, I will give you our answer as soon as possible. Thank you again, Master Swiftword”
 
“Have a safe journey home, Master Barley.”
 

 
And with that, the conversation was over. The door was pushed open, and a lonesome pony headed out into the night. Swiftword quickly closed again, and instead walked over to a window so he could stare out at the retreating figure from the relative warmth of the classroom. The outside world was nothing but contrast, the white snow glowing and glittering in the dim light of the stars, as the black sky swallowed everything else. Including the lone traveler, who became nothing more than a shadow as he moved further and further away from the schoolhouse’s light and warmth. And then he too was gone, eaten by the pitch black.
 
Swiftword stood there for a while, considering. It might work; the pony’s own experience seemed to suggest that it was at least possible. Or it might not, if the core personality wasn’t compatible. Though, she was already showing such promise, and that was without his guidance. He’d just have to be… very careful in how he handled it…
 

 
He eventually nodded at his reflection in the glass, and looked up at Luna’s bright light in the sky above him. It was worth the attempt at least.