Chapter 9: Holiday Troubles-Part 1
Tor Ironclad
Tor didn’t quite know where he was at first, but after careful examination of the surrounding area, he knew all too well. A glance down showed sopping mud beneath him, his hooves were soaked with a rotten stench of the swamp. All around him were twisted and gnarled trees; their branches clawing at the sky like talons. The sky was black, but somehow there was enough light to see everything around him. Everything had taken on a dull green hue, as though he was seeing the world filtered through a lens overgrown with mold. Tor was in the Everfree Forest.
Tor stood on shaky legs. The silence was deafening, and he was utterly alone. His joints ached, and his skin shivered as waves of a dull pain swept over him. He could barely move and something cold and hard was attached to his body. His mind tried to remember where he had been before this, he had been with Sunny. He had been in Canterlot, at home. He had been ready to make the most important decision of his young life. The pain washed over him again, but he realized then that it was a familiar kind of pain. He had known it for a long while. Nor would it leave him, forever would his heart and body ache from the source of that hurt. He walked forward three steps, then laid down and wept. It was a world of infinite sorrow that he lived in, and never another world would he know.
But there was no use in laying there, soaking up the rot of the ground below him. He remembered, all and everything. His love, her betrayal. His punishment, her delight. He stood up, wincing with the pain it brought him, and looked the sky square in its thousands of beady, white, sparkly eyes and asked aloud, “Why? What did I do to deserve this? Why should I have to feel like this? I don’t have to be so sad, you know. I could be happy. Like I used to be.” The pain within and without him only throbbed in response, and the cold stars twinkled down at him as though winking merrily. This world was indifferent to his strife, and his resolve rose at that thought. “You know what? I could be happy again, I could try. I think I will. That’ll show you! I will be happy once more!” He shouted defiantly to the heavens, and his cry echoed hollow through the forest.
He returned to the tiny shack he called home, for he remembered the path well now. Past the Poison Joke patch and the path to Ponyville, beyond the den of the sleeping Ursa Major, and beyond the valley were the insidious sphinx whispered her riddles to herself in solitude and darkness; there stood his place of solemn respite. It was quiet, and this part of the forest saw little activity, so Tor was surprised to find that somepony was waiting for him there. A dark figure stood alone in the clearing before Tor’s front door. This cloaked pony was not facing him, so it was obvious to him that he wasn’t aware of Tor’s presence. Tor’s bounty-hunter instincts kicked in and he silently dropped to the ground, circling the clearing hoping it might give him a different view of who might be visiting him in his forest home. Alas, no amount of straining would reveal who it was. Tor blinked.
The pony was facing him now, and was stepping slowly toward him. Tor’s heart gave a small jittery start. He didn’t know what this pony wanted, but he didn’t want to be a part of it. Somehow he knew it would only bring him further into the world of sorrow he was trying not to accept. Tor ran away, at first, only hearing the sound of his hooves hitting the ground, then even the sound of that faded away. The forest blurred around him, shadowy figures lined up on his left and right whispering all at once. Tor was still running, noiselessly. Some of the figures started laughing and pointing at him, others were softly singing the words, “The world has thrown you out to die, and it will never take you back. Your body is cold as clay; your heart has withered dry and black.” Tor tried to block them out, but despite his best efforts tears were streaming down his cheeks, his lungs burning as he pushed himself harder. Then Tor tripped on an unseen object and fell on his face, directly in front of a small pool of water. He raised his sore head and looked down into it and saw that the tears burning his face were tears of his blood. His eyes began to hurt, and in the split second that he closed them to ease the pain he heard a rustling sound, like wind moving through the trees.
The shadows had surrounded him. He could do nothing as they picked him up and returned him to the world of sadness and pain he was trying to avoid. Far into the forest they marched until they reach a massive tree. Through a hole in its rotten core they took him, and then they were walking through the streets of Canterlot. He looked about, trying to break free, still they moved forward until at last they stood within the throne room of the Princesses themselves. The shadowy apparitions set him down and disappeared. Tor raised his head to look towards those thrones, but the room was empty save for Tor and the shadowy figure that had stood before Tor’s shack.
The pony lifted his hooded head and Tor saw a flash as light strafed across the square lenses that covered his eyes. The pony stepped closer, standing next to Tor now, and withdrew his hood with a flourish to reveal a large, rusty iron mask, terrifyingly splattered with the blood of the creatures he had doubtlessly tortured previously. Behind those square lenses his eyes were the eyes of a pony that is smiling and he reached with a hoof wrapped in cowhide leather into his cloak. What he pulled out sent a burst of desperate adrenalin through Tor’s body and made his eyes turn white as his pupils shrunk within themselves. The masked pony delicately balanced the red-hot nails on a single iron hoof and moved once more towards him. Tor was now trembling in fear unable to move as he struggled against some unknown force. Looking back from the nails to the torturer’s face, the mask had suddenly switched to one layered with jagged iron teeth, all arranged into a grotesque smile. The torturer pulled a wooden mallet from his cloak, and lowered the blazing nails to Tor’s body, sparks flying with screams of agony as they tore through the air. The torturer raised his mallet, gauging how hard to hit the nails, and like a flash his hoof descended as he made his first swing.
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Seething Mass
It is a magical time of the year in Ponyville, as the coming of winter always is. The running of the leaves went without a hitch this year, and now the pegasi are preparing themselves to softly blanket the town in snow. Naturally all of the other ponies are working to help bring about the winter season in any way possible, and there is quite a bit of work to do. All around Ponyville unicorns and earth ponies are repairing roofs for the winter season, helping with the final harvest and canning of various crops, and seeing that all the sleepy animals make it into their nice warm dens before the snow begins to fall. Pegasi flit through the sky directing huge flocks of birds southward, settling them in to their winter homes before returning to help prepare and gather the snowclouds.
I actually woke up quite early on this morning, which is odd because usually I miss sleeping during the night entirely and must make it up during the late afternoon evening. My shop is a mess, no doubt Rarity would faint were she to see it. Then again I still don’t think she approves of my own appearance, she is good at avoiding awkward social situations but I can see that her kind smiles and compliments are not always wholehearted. Nevertheless she is a kind and compassionate pony, and if anything she is a concerned friend rather than a judgmental critic. Despite its apparent lack of pattern I can find anything I need in a short amount of time, no tiny spring or discarded article of machinery can escape my attention for more than half a minute if I decide I need it. The chaos is slightly comforting, for in all reality it is not chaos but rather a higher and more intricate pattern. There is nothing quite so comfortable as a nice clean pattern, and something rather rewarding about having a pattern that only you can see.
Enough dawdling, I must collect my supplies. I organized everything yesterday, so there would be no trouble getting ready this morning. A satchel containing four size twelve gears, two size nine, twenty-five size one gears and numerous assorted springs, handles, and metal coverplates. On the opposite side of the room, under those 2x4’s I accidentally knocked over testing some new Griffonson hydraulics, is my small toolbox containing every wrench from 1/16 up to ¾. My toolbelt in the second room resting on the top of my bookshelf filled with small clock mechanisms already has my large monkey wrench on it, just in case I really need to thok something into alignment. In go the wrenches and off I go, straight into what Applebloom and I have affectionately named, “The Alchemist’s Kitchen.” Underneath the sink and behind the sulfuric acid tub (apparently they don’t sell sulfuric acid anywhere in Ponyville, I had to order it special from the Canterlot Industrial Warehouse in 50-gallon tubs. A prêt-prett-pretty peh-penny I assure you) is a small can containing roasted acorns dusted with chili powder, just in case I get hungry during the day. That goes into my vest, in a special pocket I had Rarity sew on just for that purpose. Twilight said the arms, she said the arms should, come she said I should bring the arms I built and helped Fluttershy with. She thought she had just the job they would come in handy. Luckily I’ve made several improvements, not so clunky and stiff now that they no longer use tractor pneumatics. Turns out clunky tractor pneumos are more expensive than finer pneumos, something about a specific all-weather lubricant.
Well, I am finally ready I think. Applejack, Big Macintosh, and Apple Bloom, however, are not. They run around grabbing various things, checking to make sure everypony knows where to go and what to do and what to do once they are done going where they need to do something. Apparently Granny Smith (barely lucid at this hour) is overseeing and directing operations. Why did they give this task to her? I even, I bet that even Applejack started to question this decision after this past hour or so of Granny’s “direction”. I know I did. About six-o-clock and we are finally ready. I feel help, I help, I can here… I feel that I can help here today, my mind has never been so clear.
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Tor Ironclad
Tor awoke to Rarity speaking to him, softly nudging him in an attempt to wake him up. Tor arose from his slumber, his decorations were creaky and his back was sore. “Are you alright?” Her tone was concerned, and Tor figured that his nightmares had apparently seen fit to bother her as well. “I had another screaming fit didn’t I?” He asked, embarrassed. Rarity’s face looked a little surprised. “Actually you were fighting someone off this time. I had to poke you with my yardstick to safely wake you. Not that I care much darling, I just hope you feel rested.” “Yeah,” Tor muttered quietly as he rolled out of bed and onto his hooves. “I feel alright.”
He did his usual morning exercises, stretching his back, rotating all of his joints. It was still dark out. “Oh Joy.” He thought to himself. He reflected on his nightmare. The dream was at least partly memory, not entirely a thought that his mind had conjured up for him. He couldn’t exactly place when the memory was from, except that it was from his time in the forest, he knew that. He couldn’t place it in a specific day, because it happened to him nearly every day in the forest. Not in reality, but as the hallucinations of an insane pony. His time in the forest had been a dark time, literally. For some reason to him the sun had never risen. His mind had whirled and spun, he trained under the tree branches and down by the river at all hours of the day. He had even stayed up for two days straight and yet to his eyes the sun had never returned from below the horizon. It was as if she had abandoned him, abandoned him to rot within his own mind and become one with the damp forest floor. Occasionally he would see Luna watching him, behind a tree or walking a distance from him along the path. Dreams were her realm, this Tor knew, and what was madness but a dream he could not wake from? She couldn’t speak, couldn’t help him, all she could do was watch with sorrowful eyes as he suffered.
That pony in black, he was new. Tor had been alone, always, within the forest. Well, aside from Luna, he had never seen another pony. Sometimes the rocks would whisper to him, sometimes the howling of the Timberwolves or the lilting song of a siren would tell a tale to him or ease him into a fevered sleep, but never had his hallucinations brought forth anything like that pony in black, the one with the square lenses for eyes.
He looked in the mirror. “Still plated in steel, I see.” He had dark circles under his eyes. After splashing some hot water on his face, he began to wake up more. Rarity had prepared an elegant breakfast for him and Sweetie Belle, who were both staying at Rarity’s Boutique. “Why did I have to wake up so early?” he said in his mind, wearily. He remembered Rainbow Dash explaining the previous day that the Pegasi were going to direct the clouds over Ponyville so the snow could fall. Everypony else was supposed to help make sure that the crops and animals remained safe and sound. Rainbow Dash had asked Tor and Seething Mass to help with some of the creatures that weren’t safe enough for anypony else to take care of; Fire Salamanders. They were apparently nasty pieces of work if you weren’t careful. They made their home in SwiftSand Valley which was also, as it happened, a popular sledding run during the winter. That was why it would take extra caution in order to properly prepare the Fire Salamanders into their homes. After a hearty meal, Rarity and Tor headed to the meeting place for all of their friends. Before leaving the boutique, Tor ran back inside to grab something important he’d almost forgotten, a piece of equipment he had recently procured from Seething Mass. Tor hadn’t quite shaken the eerie feeling his dream had left him with, the feeling that something was going to go wrong, and this object could help in the case of a dire emergency.
Everypony gathered at the town square, and all of the ponies were excited to start on their jobs. There was a short speech by the Mayor, and then all of the ponies split into their teams, either preparing the clouds to snow, helping animals find their new homes, or readying the fields for the winter. Tor walked for a while with Rarity, but was soon called over to where Seething Mass was standing blinking sleep from his eyes by a very chipper Miss Twilight Sparkle. Everypony else seemed to know just what they were doing, but Tor didn’t have a clue. By now only Tor and Seething Mass remained, awaiting instruction from the event coordinator Miss Twilight Sparkle. Miss Sparkle beamed at Tor. “Good morning Tor, I’m happy to see you are all ready to help! Seething Mass and I were just discussing Professor Fellhock’s most recent theory of Hyperenergetic Sub-Atomic Particulates.” Tor turned his head slightly. “Sub-atomic particulates? I hope my job doesn’t require me to know much about anything like that.” Twilight laughed lightly. “Well all motion relies directly on the physical and energetic properties of these particulates, Seething Mass was even telling me that he thinks they may even regulate the procession of our linear time! Regardless of their involvement, you really don’t need to know much about them to do some heavy lifting. We asked you to help with SwiftSand Valley because it is an especially dangerous task.” She turned, now serious, to address the two ponies at once.
“Is that because of those Fire Salamanders Miss Rainbow Dash told us about?” Tor asked.
“They do sound quite hazardous, as anything with fire in the name usually is.” added Seething Mass. “That is one reason why it’s so dangerous. The area is also prone to avalanches, and those salamanders are... Grumpy, to say the least. Be careful not to wake them, they don’t like to be disturbed. Do you understand the significance of SwiftSand Valley?” She asked them. Seething Mass shook his head quietly, while Tor wracked his mind for an answer. She may have been his friend, but whenever Twilight Sparkle asked him a question like this he always felt like a foal who had been called on in class by the teacher. “Wasn’t there something about ponies sledding during the cold months?” He risked a guess.
“Well that is true, it is a popular sledding run during the winter. All of the winding tunnels and the snow drifts are just perfect for sledding, but it has much greater significance than that. The Fire Salamanders that live there, and are only found in SwiftSand Valley, have exceptionally hot skin. The sand there contains all of the minerals and elements necessary to create raw gems with very few impurities. The Fire Salamanders there have such hot skin, even when they are asleep, that over the course of the Winter, their body temperature melts the minerals together creating those raw gems. The salamanders don’t care much for the gems themselves, but we need them for use as trade goods. They are perfect for delicate optical equipment and fine jewelry, some of them even have magical properties.” Twilight Sparkle explained.
“Yeah, and they’re the most delicious gems you could ever find!” Added Spike with excitement as he walked up, licking his lips in anticipation.
“Spike, you know these gems are too important for you to eat.” Said Twilight, as Spike crossed his arms and put a grumpy look on his face. “The Fire Salamanders burrow into the dunes and purify the gems, but also create molten glass from the sand. This cools quickly, but needs to be covered by the snow before it can be safe for sledding. After our Winter Wrap Up, we can clear the snow and see through the transparent glass to gather the gems. This is surprisingly safe, as the Fire Salamanders come up from their underground dens around late spring. This valley is an immensely delicate natural resource, and we need your help to prepare it for winter.” Tor and Seething nodded in unison. “Right. So what are those boards over there for then?” Asked Tor, motioning towards a large cart being filled with solid oak planks.
“Remember how I told you about the frequent avalanches? Well, your job is simple. You two are to help build snow channels on the valley’s sides to guide the avalanches to a non-destructive location near the bottom, a large pit where the snow can collect safely. Seething Mass, we’ll need your heavy lifting contraption in order to place the boards, and Tor, it’ll be your job to direct Seething Mass and hammer in the planks. This really won’t be too hard with the two of you, and there will be other teams if you have any questions. Now get out there and make us proud!” Twilight Sparkle sent them off with a wave and pointed them in the direction of the valley.
The job had been going well for Tor and Seething Mass for quite some time. Some ponies even stood by just to see Seething Mass work his amazing machine. This time it had worked even better than the last time he had used it, apparently he made some major upgrades to make it more efficient. Tor was cautious about all of the observers, he knew it wasn’t safe to have them around, but he allowed it anyways. He also figured it would help Seething Mass’s self esteem if he performed well in front of others. They moved surprisingly fast, there were already anchor points to set the boards in from the previous years so all Seething had to do was lift the boards into place so Tor could hammer them securely. He had tried using the hammer he had been provided, first with his magic, then with his hooves, but finally he grew frustrated as the hammer once again ricocheted off of the nail and hit him in the shoulder. He already had a bruise there. Tor gave a mighty shout and reared up, pounding the nail into submission with his steel-covered hooves. “Well now,” Tor spoke. “that is much faster.” And so the two stallions continued their work, Seething placing boards and Tor pounding the nails in with his hooves. All in all things were going smoothly, without a hitch. Perhaps Tor’s foreboding feeling that morning had been wrong.
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Seething Mass
Lift a board or two into place, set it down and hold it still. A jiggle of the joystick, a crank of a few pressure valves, and a nice solid clamp to finish it off. My additional appendages are working fantastically, better than I could hope. Flim and Flam may make apple, may poor apple, may, make may…. Flim and Flam may make poor apple cider, but they do know how to keep a machine working in tip-top shape for the most part. The parts and oil I bought from them (quite overpriced I should think, but no matter) is doing its job. Tor has to sweat to keep up with me, and to think that at the beginning of winter in the chill autumn air we should sweat as we work! Regardless it is fast-paced and interesting for the first few boards. But what is this, a voice approaching?
“Now honestly, how could you begin to think this was a good idea? I know the Other One wanted to see them, but why NOW? You could have picked a better time! You know as well as I do what happens soon! And why send you, I wonder, why not come see them in person?” It is a male voice, rather low-toned. He sounds intelligent, and somehow familiar. A soft female voice replies, biting sarcasm clear on her breath. For some reason the sound of her voice gives me chills, as though somepony were trodding upon my grave. Well, somepony other than myself of course. I almost feel as though I know her from somewhere, or should.
“By now you should have expected me to be COMPLETELY honest, and to think you wouldn’t forget my reputation. It isn’t very important when we see them to the Other One, the Other One didn’t choose this exact moment for any specific reason. And you don’t think the Other One should show up? Why the Other One would show up but that would make perfect sense. I don’t represent the Other One anywhere I go, I don’t speak for the Other One and I certainly don’t observe for the Other One. The Other One even uses my name when it speaks to the Readers. To be perfectly honest…” Here the male voice gives a small scoffing laugh before the female voice continues.”Anyways, as I was not saying, to be perfectly honest I know exactly why I am here, why the Other One doesn’t just come instead. Maybe the Other One doesn’t like to seem mysterious, maybe the Other One just wants to lose the chance to get an eagle-eye view on everything, so that isn’t why I was sent. Why did you come, after all? Not that I’m interested, of course.” The male voice laughs quietly, not a scoff this time, then replies. “It was the Other One’s idea.”
Now the two voices’ owners have crested a small sandy hill and I can see their faces. The male is a rather tall unicorn whose coat is a light sand color, almost grainy. He wears a long brown coat and a cowpony hat, and his dark brown hair is short, practical, showing his clear eyes. He also has a rather impressive moustache. Dusty, rather dusty seeming, as though he just came from a desert by Apploosa. His eyes are steely, for some reason I think of gunfighters. Now wait a minute, do I know what a gun is? Have I ever seen one in Ponyville? There is one, on his flank, his cutie mark is two crossed pistols with a setting sun glowing orange between them. The Stallion looks rather worried at something, but his expression changes to a sort of shocked awe when he sees Tor. He gives an odd sort of smile, and Tor stares right back at him with a sort of quizzical expression. Well his body language suggests he feels quizzical, his expression hasn’t changed at all of course.
Far more interesting than the stallion with the brown coat, however, is the mare walking next to him. Her coat is really pale, with a tiny hint of orange, but like something wet-skinned and kept away from the sun for a long time. Her hair is elaborately pinned and braided in the back, but a long set of bangs keeps her left eye shrouded. It is black, but when the sun reflects off of it a hint of glowing red like the embers of a fire dance along its length. On her flank is a rather curious marking, some sort of machine with sharp points, maybe a trap? And it has snapped closed around some sort of bird, perhaps a dove. Rather disturbing, really. More disturbing is the fact that her single eye is focused with a bored half-lidded expression on me. The stallion is the first to speak directly to us.
“Wow, this is pretty awesome! Well then, Seething Mass…Tor…how are you both?” Tor is rather surprised I think, how did he know our names? Tor replies.”Well, fine. I’m sorry, my memory is very poor, have we met?” The Stallion lets out a small chuckle at that. “Well, not officially, now would be the first time. I must say it is quite awesome to see you in person, or rather, ponyson. You are exactly what I thought you’d be! Well I suppose that makes sense doesn’t it?” Tor stares, eyebrow raised. “I’m sorry, where did you hear about me?”
The eerie mare lifts her head slightly, eye never leaving mine. Her eyes are a bright yellow, but deep within her pupils burns a somber red. “Oh my, don’t stop drooling on his iron hooves for Faust’s sake, I’m sure he doesn’t mind. It’s not like he is EXACTLY how you pictured him, of course he isn’t. Why? Because that wouldn’t make PERFECT sense. Did you really think he would look any different?”
I speak now, but can’t move eyes from this mare. “Suh, suh….sorry, but did you say your names?” Almost can’t believe I said it. My words seem to jog the stallion out of his amused stupor because he turns now to look at me. The mare blinks her eye once and stares daggers into her friend. “Oh don’t mind Ann,” The stallion says. “everything she says is a lie.” The mare, Ann, glances back at me, then glares once more at the stallion. “my words are not always an outright fabrication.” He seems amused.”What color is the sky today?” Ann looks up for a moment, then down to the ground. “Greenish-Orange.” The stallion seems pleased with himself, the sky is a crisp blue. “See? It takes a while to get used to, but pretty soon you can understand that she actually means the opposite of what you think she means!”
“So,” Tor says, “Who are you?” The stallion stops laughing for a moment, then he looks at Tor again. “Oh nothing special. I’m just the Nice One.” Awkward, very awkward. Ann staring at me, and the more pleasant one staring at Tor. Odd, these two, very odd. I haven’t seen two ponies more out of place since I myself arrived. Suddenly Ann breaks my gaze and turns around, walking back towards Ponyville. “We don’t need to leave now. It isn’t time to go.” The pleasant one groans. “Really? We can’t stay and watch the fireworks?” Ann doesn’t even glance over her shoulder. “You won’t read about it later.” Disappointed, the stallion looks back at us. “Best of luck, you two!” He turns to run after Ann, shouting for her to slow down and wait for him. Tor looks over to me. “Well, that was strange, I didn’t know the crazy ones travel in pairs now.” All I can do is nod, lift the arms up and get back to work.
I still can’t shake the feeling that I know that mare Ann from somewhere, but where would I know an Ann, one lying Ann?
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1928105
Say what you will about Batman, but he has the coolest badguys! Irregardless, Ann was never one to argue with logic. And that's me saying that, not her. Have you seen The Dark Knight Rises? I haven't yet, but I heard it was really good.
very confused
............I LOVE IT
a story that actually makes me think, not bad,not bad at all. nice work keeping tabs on ya. cheerio
was wondering when this would update....nice chapter.....i would have so much fun messing with ann logically (the one in the story)
1959367
The Nice One
I had certainly hoped a Skyrim reference could be made on this page at some point! Thanks for being the one to do it! You're A-OK in my book!