//------------------------------// // Chapter One // Story: New beginnings // by Sugar Moon //------------------------------// “Ugh I hate mondays.” I said to no one in particular as I swatted my alarm clock. Rolling off my sturdy blue bed my hooves touched the floor with a musical clink. I never get tired of that noise. One of the best parts of having hooves I feel. The steady rhythm of each hoof as we trot along like some grand clockwork cuckoo clock. Right then, enough dilly-dallying. Time to get back on schedule. Entering the kitchen as I do every morning at exactly 8:15 I prepare breakfast for myself and... Thump Speak of discord and he shall appear. “Son.” I called. “Hurry up and get down here for breakfast. You don't want to be late for your first day after all.” After precisely 432 seconds Pipsqueak finally descended the stairs. Honestly I don't know who he gets his slack attitude from. Must be his mothers side. “I'm coming Pops.” Pip calls as he trots down the stairs. “Cripes it's cold in here.” Turning around to place his breakfast down for him I notice something amiss. “Son” I begin pointing at his face “What in Celestia's Mane is that?” “It's an eye-patch. Yarr you old sea dog, hoist the main sail and brace the ships cat you scurvy scoundrel.” He sported a grin that you almost saw on pirates. Right before they gutted you stem to stern. It was rather unsettling on somepony so ridiculously adorable. “As much as I admire you historical accuracy, the craftsmanship is extraordinary, I cannot help but feel that you might make a better first impression at this new school if you went as yourself.” I attempted to remove the surprisingly well made eye-patch from his face but the little rapscallion ducked under my hooves and off towards the table, away from my grasp. “But Dad. I am a pirate. I can feel it in my bones, in my sea hooves. I just need to earn my Cutie Mark in it and then I'll show you, you landlubber you.” he said in mock severity, shaking his hoof threateningly. I rolled my eyes. I don't think even a rabbit would be afraid of Pip even if he was brandishing the elements of harmony at them. “Pip, the day you get a pirate Cutie Mark I'll allow you to wear pantaloons, bandanas and a fetching tricorn hat. If you want you can wave cutlasses at any and all wenches and scallywags that take your fancy.” “Really?” his eyes hopeful. I nodded solemnly. “Oh yes. I'll even make you a seafarers watch, that naval captains used to wear, to celebrate. But” I reached over and removed his eye-patch. “until then you're just going to have to dress like us landlubbers, me hearty.” I added in a gruff piratey voice. “Aww” he said defeatedly walking back to his seat to eat his breakfast. Wears his heart on his hooves that one. Just like his mother. Always dashing off with a fanciful notion of rescuing some amarezonian treasure or becoming the first pony to single-hoofedly cross all the seas. Adventuring was in her blood, and in his too it seems. She always did admire pirates and the freedom of the open sea. Poor Mels. No. Not today. Shaking my head a little in an attempt to dislodge some uncomfortable thoughts I notice the clock on the mantelpiece. 8:32. 8:32 A.M? Oh dear me. “Eat up Pip or we're going to be late” I say as I dart about the house in a rush, trying to grab everything He'll need for school. Pencil. He'll need that. Wouldn't be able to write anything down otherwise. Copy book? Yes that as well. What else would he write things down in. Vellum? Scrolls? Tie. Of course he'll need a tie. Can't show up without a suitably stylish yet informal clothing choice, now can he? Mhmm perhaps a Bow tie instead. Bow ties are cool. Oh I'm getting behind schedule. “Dad!” Pipsqueak shouts. “Hmm, yes son?” I asked not looking up from a pile of random objects I had managed to accumulate in my haste. Now then, a keyboard. Yes he'll definitely need one of those, perhaps two just in case. I don't want him to be lacking in all the correct educational tools. “DAD” Pip shouted again this time appearing right in front of my face before bellowing it out. How on earth did he manage that so quickly? “It was only 8:15” he says as he lifts my face away from the assorted junk strewn about my hooves. “That's out Trottingham clock. It hasn't been set right yet.” Celestia, that was lucky. I nickered wheezily, half in amusement at my own silliness and half in sheer relief. I lifted the clock in my hoof and kept laughing. Such a simple mistake, typical of myself. Should have corrected it already, very nearly had me behind schedule and Pip's first day as well. Least now we can finish our breakfasts, right on schedu- “Course” Pip continued “ it was only 8:15. That was about forty minutes ago, before you started muttering about schedules and ties. Oh round spherical objects. [br] Galloping down the muddy lane I can feel the dirt as my pounding hooves churn it up, causing stray clods of earth smack against my hooves and flanks as I thunder by. For most my obsessive need to be on time might be but I know better. I know the true value of time, of every single solitary hour, second and moment of time and I know not to waste any of it. Keeping to my schedule makes sure I don't. That every jot of time is spent wisely and efficiently. I'll never forget the value of time. Never again. “Allonsy!” Pip crows from my back as we barrel in the direction of the schoolhouse, his forehooves carefully wrapped tight around my neck. Allonsy? Well, it's better than 'Yeehaw' at any rate. Somehow from our madcap dash from the house till now he's managed to get his kleptomaniacal hooves on his eye-patch again. He really is a pirate. I chuckle. Least he kept the bow tie. “Faster Dad, faster.” he screams excitedly. Oh yes, just like his mother. “Aye, Aye captain.” I say with an awful west canterry accent as I awkardly attempt a galloping salute. My pace doubles now, as I charge towards the schoolhouse, kicking up all manner of turf with my reckless hooves. I spy our destination just ahead of me and I change course slightly. “Land ahoy Captain.” I chortle, still with that terrible accent. “Well done first mate, now steer true and straighten up the mizzen mast my hearties.” Pip laughs. His whole body racking with laughter that vibrates through his hooves and shakes my head a little. It's a sweet unrestrained sound that is music to my ears. The sound of an innocent colt just having fun. It's been a long time since he laughed like that, carefree and hearty, so long in fact that I honestly thought I'd never hear it again. I'm so engaged in this sound, the sound of pure ecstasy, that I completely miss the large grey form plummeting towards me. “Look out!” a yell warns. My hooves lock up in a vain attempt to stop myself and my flanks slammed into the ground as my momentum carries us forward, dragging a groove behinds us towards... something as my face connects hard into wall of slate grey fur. It's a beat. Or two. For a few precious seconds I am totally knocked for six. Disorientation reigns in my head and it is king, before the glorious revolution of consciousness takes hold. Blinking, bleary eyed, I struggle to see what's in front of me. Everything is all muddied to my vision but I can make out two golden orbs. “Are you ok, sir?” A disembodied voice asks, sweet as honey with all the care of a frightened filly. I can't answer. Even before my eyesight can fully clear, I'm transfixed by those golden spheres. They're just a touch off kilter, seemingly dancing slowly and back again with each other in an endless waltz, so delicate and inexorable are their movements. Shimmering stars shining out of a pure white cosmos. Rather like- “Eyes.” I say breathlessly, my voice strained but wistful. My own eyes begin to clear during my outburst and I finally see who those bewitching gems belong to. Before me sits a grey pegasus, around my age if not a bit younger. Her messy mane a blonde colour, complimenting her coat. She may not be as athletic or svelte as your usual pegasus but she's much healthier looking with (I'm embarrassed to note) curves in all the right places. Definitely a mare not some young filly. A lady. A little ashamed of myself for my staring at her for so long (and for my thoughts.) I opened my mouth to apologise ,to make amends, for careening into her when I noticed something I really should have seen already. Her wings are drooped, the tips of them touching the ground and she is avoiding my gaze, she's crying. She mumbles what sounds like an apology before flapping off into the sky. Was it something I said? I must of hurt her when we crashed into each other. Celestia, I cannot stand to see a mare cry, especially when I might have caused it. I'll have to find her, apologise straight away and- “Dad, we're going to be late. “ Pip says into my ear from his perch around my neck. Properly ashamed at how I've forgotten about, I quickly checked him over asking if he was okay, if he was hurt but thankfully he was fine. “Come on Dad. We've got to go.” He said. Looking off in the direction the grey mare I trundled off more carefully towards the schoolhouse, late for the first time in years.