The Pony Magic Academy.

Just the mentioning of it poured a waterfall of thoughts and aspirations that Aria’s bowl of a mind could not retain. The cascading waters overflowed the mare's consciousness to the point where even her dreams brimmed with beautiful preconceptions of the school. Her latest stupor took her to the sky, circling around the crescent-shaped isle as gracefully as a falcon in flight. The bird's-eye view laid out the ideal picture Aria had formed in her head over the past few months, from majestic mountains to emerald forests. All of it centered around the awe-inspiring academy.

But as the sun rose majestically in the backdrop of her dreams, Aria’s mind drifted to the realization that the real morning drew near. The image she worshipped faded slowly away, melting until dripping like thick paint from a canvass. As Aria fell back into her conscious state the tangible morning welcomed her. Gentle rays of light poured in through her bedroom window as the autumn wind sang a waking melody.