The Haunting
Admiral Biscuit
Sleeping on the lawn turned out to be a lot less magical than I thought it would be.
I’d anticipated it would get colder outside than in the house, and I’d brought extra blankets. I’d also assumed—rightly—that between her higher body temperature and her fur, Milfoil would help keep me warm.
However, morning dew didn’t discriminate in what it stuck to, and the ground breathed as well— something I should have remembered from watching episodes of Man vs. Wild.
Neither of us slept very well, although that made the experience no less rewarding. Every time I woke up, I was surrounded by nature; greeted by the sprinkling of stars overhead, and then the early pre-dawn light, unfiltered by a bedroom window.
Early birds were already flying around and pecking at the lawn, only slightly wary of the interlopers in their domain.
I wasn’t any less sore than I’d been last night, and I didn’t feel all that rested either, so in a physical sense the night hadn’t done me any good—but I felt that there was something else giving me energy once again.
If earth pony magic worked through the land, was the land and all it contained, were the flowers helping Milfoil and I in return for helping them? The idea initially seemed ludicrous on the face of it, the kind of weird idea that could only come from half-awake dreaming, yet Windflower could pull life from a plant, and Milfoil and I could offer it to them, so why wouldn’t they be able to offer us sustenance even if we didn’t demand it? Even if we didn’t actively pull it forth ourselves?
Or was that something that earth ponies did unconsciously, and maybe now I was doing it, too?
That was too much for me to ponder for so early in the morning, so I just put my head back down, nestled against Milfoil, and watched a robin hop across the grass in search of the early worm.
•••
I must have dozed off again, because the next thing I was aware of was Milfoil playfully nibbling on my ear.
“You gotta get up,” she said when I swatted at her nose. “The field won’t plow itself.”
“The field? What field?”
“Sabi always said that to me when I was being lazy in bed.”
“Ah.” I yawned and twisted to give her a kiss, morning breath be damned. Then I looked back at the garden, glittering in morning dew. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I bet it’s going to look amazing once the flowers start blooming and the plants fill in.”
“Mhmm. Are you going to want to spend more nights sleeping outside? By the garden, like a filly with a new toy?”
I had the idea she’d done that as a filly. “So what if I am?”
“Next time, we’ll get a wooden pallet to sleep on; that’ll help with the ground-dew. And the rocks.” She pushed the covers off her back and rolled over, twisting around like I’d seen horses do sometimes, before getting on her belly and putting her hooves under her. “Let’s eat some breakfast, and then we’ll go to the spa.”
•••
Pony spas had taken a bit of getting used to. I’d had to remind myself more than once that it was just like what they did in Japan, so it wasn’t that weird. And there had been some joking at my expense the first few times I’d gone with my pony friends in Manehattan, and then it was like a switch had been flipped in my mind and I’d started to wonder how this wasn’t a thing more places on Earth.
The hot tub was pure bliss.
I wasn’t as much for gossip as ponies, so I tended to be a little less social when in the tub, and perhaps even more so this time around since I was tired. None of the ponies seemed to mind. More than a couple of them were occasionally covering yawns with a hoof.
Milfoil left the tub early in order to get her coat groomed and her hooves filed—that was something I didn’t have to worry about. Instead, I availed myself of a massage and left the table with a pleasant numbness.
We treated ourselves to a late lunch at an outdoor cafe, and then spent some of the afternoon once again admiring our work in the backyard. It was still a mess, of course; there were raw scars crisscrossing the yard where plants had yet to go, but for all that it was coming along nicely. I could clearly see the promise of what it would be, something that I had not seen in the sketches she’d worked on with Windflower.
Unicorns worked in the immediate present. Spells went off and things changed pretty much right away.
Pegasi worked in the near future. They moved clouds around on a daily basis, bringing the weather.
Earth ponies worked in the future. What was a barren field would one day bring forth a crop; what was a torn-up yard would one day blossom.
I thought about telling Milfoil that, but of course she already knew.
•••
The afternoon brought more plant-moving in preparation for the night’s efforts. This time rather than help her with her harness, I hauled the wagon back and forth myself, with her leaning on the tailgate to keep the front of it off the ground. It didn’t feel any more productive but I was too proud to ask her to put on her harness.
I think she knew I was being stubborn, but she didn’t say anything.
We once again filled the living room, and put a few more plants around the corners in the kitchen. A couple new packets of seeds were spread out as well, and Milfoil went over them picking the best: those would be planted in the front with the others behind them.
“Is this a certain thing?” I turned over one of the less-good seeds in my fingers, first seeing if there was any visual difference between it and the others, and then if I could feel that it had a different song than the others. I couldn’t hear anything from it, no matter how hard I concentrated.
“This one will have petite salmon-color blooms on short stems, which make it perfect for a border,” she said, pointing to a seed.
“You can tell all that?”
“It says so on the packet.” She stuck her tongue out at me. “They’re still dormant. I could easily tell if one of them was already dead, that happens sometimes, but I can’t tell much more than that about them. Some ponies who have a skill for it can sort of wake them up a little bit and find out more specifically how each seed’s gonna grow, but most ponies can’t do that.”
•••
It wasn’t until we were eating dinner that I remembered that I still hadn’t made time to wash my bedding.
“Do unicorns have spells to clean sheets?”
“Probably.”
The two of us were hunched over the dolly tub, hard at work. There was a cleaner’s in town, but it was closed for the night. I could have brought them my sheets in the morning, but I was feeling stubborn, and I could almost hear my grandmother say how doing laundry was good bonding. Maybe she was right. There was something more honest about good physical labor than working in an office, although not for the first time I wished that I could pick and choose which old-fashioned tasks I had to do. Gardening without a Rototiller had worked out okay, and I wouldn’t have changed a minute of the time I’d spent. Washing sheets wasn’t as much fun, nor was it done with a noble purpose.
Even if we got them clean before Windflower arrived, there was no way that they’d be dry before nightfall. Clotheslines didn’t work that fast.
Not that that mattered; I had a second set of sheets for this very reason.
I didn’t let my foolish pride win out this time. Pony washboards were designed for pony hooves, and Milfoil could apply far more pressure to the sheets than I could hope to with my delicate palms, so I let her take the lead until it was time to wring them out.
Ponies had wringers—what my grandma had referred to as a mangler, for obvious reasons—but I’d chosen to go without, at least for the time being, and twisted the sheets to drive the water out.
•••
The sheets were hung and we sat on the back stoop waiting for sundown, waiting for Windflower to arrive.
We hadn’t spoken for I don’t know how long—neither of us had anything that we needed to say. I had my arm around her and we watched as the light faded and the night stars appeared in the sky, a few at first and then dozens and then hundreds and then thousands.
There had been precious few times I’d ever sat out and watched day turn to night, and I regretted missing out all my life. There had never been an occasion in the past, and I was the poorer for it.
•••
Neither of us moved as Windflower came into the yard. We just watched as she made a circuit of the plants, no doubt ensuring that they were all where they belonged.
She looked pale and I wanted to think that that was just a trick of the light, but I knew it wasn’t.
It wasn’t easy to get up and go to work, but we did. I fell back into plant-moving duty, carrying pots out to their prescribed locations.
Once again, the old stallion showed up, and just fell to his tasks the same as Milfoil and I had. I wondered about that, but not too much. I didn’t think he waited around the corner until he was sure we were working; I think he knew and that was fine. There was a significant portion of my life that had recently moved into the ‘don’t ask questions’ category and in other circumstances I might have questioned it, but now was not the time nor the place. Later, perhaps, we could discuss it.
We worked until the moon was setting, once again nearly completely clearing out my house, and I was sorry when we were done for the night. I knew, deep down, that things were going to change when the garden was completely planted, and we were getting close.
It feels like the end is approaching...
and as strange I was sorry - and as strange as it was/seemed I was sorry
As the garden begins to become complete I think poor Windflower is going to be feeling it.
Or maybe from Tree Hugger?
Anyway, I enjoyed the prose and introspection of this chapter.
Spa time.
Once all the garden is done, the last work will be to bring Windflower back, so she can finally leave?
9606002
Or perhaps the completion of the garden is what windflower needs to be able to pass on.
We'll all miss Windflower when she goes, but it wouldn't be right to force her to stay.
9606002
9606026
Or maybe open Ever-after Gardening and Landscaping
9606260
I never heard of this game.
give what platform?
I think it is a typo.
That's a cute ghost! I'd smaaaaa… oh, wait!
Also: Are you trying to make us jealous of you having a cute ghost SSP, or are you supposed to be a blank slate for the reader to project themselves onto?
I love how much detail you're putting into earth pony culture, it's not something you see explored as often as unicorn or pegasus culture, since it's so subtle.
9605809
It is.
Correction made; thank you!
9605830
It could be that the garden--or lack of--is the thing that was holding her back.
9605835
And we all know that Tree Hugger gets it from Cloud Chaser. <--shameless self-promotion
Thank you!
9605902
Spa time is best time!
9606002
You are correct.
9606026
It probably would, but wouldn’t be the complete closure.
9606099
That’s the thing--when the time is right for her to move on, they shouldn’t try to hold her back.
9606127
That’s a possibility.
9606294
It’s on Android, iOS, and Windows.
Fair warning, it’s one of those free but takes forever to get the gems and stuff you need to complete the game, unless you use actual money to buy them. Enough so that Gameloft reduced the cost of some of the characters to be more reasonable after complaints (but they’re still pretty unreasonable IMHO).
9606320
It is! Correction made; thank you!
9606334
You’d hug her if you could.
I don’t know what a SSP is, so I can’t say for sure. The protagonist does have a name, he’s not anon or ‘you,’ but his name doesn’t come up until much later in the story.
9606373
Thank you!
It’s really a shame that more people don’t explore it, because I think it’s wonderfully complex and quite subtle. Also very powerful, but usually not very fast.
9606417
"SSP" stands for "Special Somepony" and basically means marefriend/coltfriend/fuckbuddy.
9606470
Ah, that’s one I haven’t seen before.
Nah, the ghost isn’t his special somepony. She’s just a little filly.
9606475
???? But there's a romance tag....
9606422
Earth pony culture feels more careful and deliberate. Unicorns and pegasi have their own culture, and they seem more haughty, and flying by the seat of one's pants respectively. I prefer the pegasus culture for the most part myself, can't figure out why, it just appeals to me more than the others.
9606478
Yes, there is--it’s not for the ghost, though.
9606508
It would be intriguing, though, to have a story like this where the ghost died as a mare and the romance was for the ghost.
IT. KEEPS. HAPPENING!
Just don't drop any belladonna on it. You gonna get eaten.
I wish we had a spa/bath/hotspring where I live the apartment has a shower so I've no options for soaking in a tub of hot water to ease the strain of the day.
9606529
My lovely ghost Khana is an adult manga with that plot.
9606422
??? apparently i have been missing a whole mess of stories then. most of the stories i have been reading have that do an in-depth dive into the culture of one of the sub races has either been pre-change changeling or earth ponies. i am so excited to find a new troupe, got any story recommendations?
also great chapter i really hope to see this story go beyond him playing with the adorable ghost filly.
Aye, that's the way of it. Seasons.
Brings a new meaning to "Last will and Testament", huh?
Haha, that was remarkably close to being lewd :p
Still, great as always!
That is a kinda funny thing to say about a ghost, even though I know what you mean :)
But anyway, thank you. I've missed this. And the break seems to have done you good, because this chapter is beautiful. Like, everything about it.
9606588
*boop*
9606414
thank you
Oh my...
Beautiful meditations on life, nature, and the different time scales of the tribes' magics. It's going to hurt to say goodbye to Windflower, but it'll be the soreness felt after a good day's honest work.
Cue bedroom eyes...
And then Windflower dissipates into nothingness... because everyone known ponies don't have REAL souls!
(Alondro is a monster... but everyone knew that already.)
9606494
Yeah--maybe it’s unfair, but I think a lot of unicorn culture is bragging about
horn sizemagic and not really getting anything done. I think there is a lot of improv to pegasus magic, but that’s the nature of what they work with . . . Silver Glow fought feral storms, and never knew what the sky would bring (and ponies such as her are often only one mistake away from death, which probably affects their worldview). I do think that in some ways the pegasus magic is the happy medium between the two, the dividing line between the yin and yang. It’s both immediate and not, flashy and not.Also, there’s the freedom of the sky which the other two tribes don’t have, and that’s a big thing too.
9606529
Honestly, part of the initial inspiration for the story was a dumb short I wrote where the protagonist hooked up with a ghost and got frostbite on his dk.
9606536
I seem to remember that it required a bit of virgin’s blood, too.
9606588
Like, showers are nice, showers are convenient, but there are times when a hot bath is just the thing to relax all the muscles at once. Some places have public hot tubs you can rent, although they’re generally aimed more towards groups. Hotels are an option, too, but of course that’s also expensive.
9606622
Well, if you don’t mind a shameless self-promotion, Silver Glow's Journal is a million words into the mindset of a coastal pegasus.
derpicdn.net/img/view/2017/2/18/1366537.png
Oh, it does.