//------------------------------// // Chapter 52 // Story: Princess Twilight Sparkle's School for Fantastic Foals // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// Even though Sumac was sleepy, he didn’t want to have a nap and he didn’t know how to protest it. Well, part of him wanted to have a nap, but the other part of him—the other part of him was worried about Lemon Hearts and Trixie. He was worried about Ponyville. He was still shook up about everything that had happened. “Pebble needs to change,” Marble said in a soft voice. “She’s modest and likes her privacy.” “I’ll leave.” Sumac took a few steps towards the door and stopped when Marble got in his way. He looked up at her, confused, not certain what was expected of him. She had a very gentle looking smile upon her face and kindness was in her eyes. “You don’t need to be separated right now. Pebble is on the verge of panic. How about you just turn around, face the corner, and close your eyes real tight? Can you do that? Are you a gentlecolt?” Swallowing, Sumac nodded. He could do that. He turned around once more, headed for the corner of the room, planted his nose in it, and then closed his eyes. He heard hooves on the floor, the soft rustle of fabric, there was a grunt from Pebble, and then he heard Marble say, “Okay.” But he didn’t move, nor did he open his eyes. For all he knew, Marble might have been speaking to Pebble, not him, and there was no clear indicator that it was fine for him to open his eyes and turn around. Closing his eyes was doing him in though. He could feel it, it was like being a yearling all over again, he needed a nap. A yawn escaped his lips. “Sumac, come to bed.” Turning around, he opened his eyes. Pebble was already on the bed and Marble stood beside it. He blinked, feeling sleepy, and his body was heavy. He had eaten a lot and drank some tea. He looked around at the room and saw that Boomer had coiled herself around the ring on top of the lantern, and he had a passing thought about dragon greed. Boomer had herself a very valuable treasure. “This is my mother’s old room,” Pebble said as Sumac crossed the room. “Now, it is the guest room. Sometimes, my father’s students stay here and they sleep in this room.” “Students?” Sumac stood at the edge of the bed and looked up. “Oh, Tarnish is the Professor of Voracious and Horrendous Flora at Baltimare Downs University. His students sometimes come here to study the unusual plants that we have. They help out on the farm and most of them are very nice.” Marble helped Sumac climb up into the bed and then shoved him over to make room for herself. The bed let out a creak as Marble eased herself onto it and Sumac wasn’t quite sure what to do. He sat there, not sure of what was expected of him. Pebble had on a nice looking nightgown, it was flannel, pink, a little faded, and covered in little yellow ducklings. Marble flopped down and pulled Pebble close, then patted the bed close to her. “Come here, lay down, and I’ll cover you up.” Before he had a chance to respond, Sumac was grabbed by Marble, who hooked a foreleg around him. He was yanked over and he was startled by Marble’s strength. Pebble was already curled up against Marble’s chest and had her head resting on Marble’s other foreleg. The sleepy little filly let out a squeaky yawn. He found himself squished against Marble’s side and then a light blanket was pulled over him, covering his head. Sometimes, sometimes a pony needed some blinders to help them calm down. “I’m worried about Trixie,” Sumac said in a low whisper from beneath the blanket. “My mom… and Lemon Hearts. She wasn’t moving when I saw her last.” “I know it has to be difficult.” Marble’s dulcet voice was a soothing murmur. “But you are safe here and nothing can hurt you.” The quiet mare fell silent for a moment and then she began humming to herself, a soft sleepy sounding lullabye. “If something does happen to Trixie…”—beneath the blanket, Sumac began wiggling around—“who will take care of me? Where will I go? Where will I stay?” “Sumac,” Marble began to say. “No!” Sumac’s voice cracked and became squeaky. “I need to know these things. I’m so scared.” Hearing his own whimpering made him feel ashamed and he pressed his face into Marble’s side, seeking comfort. “I can’t… I can’t imagine a life without her.” He thought back to a time not long ago when he had bit her and was overcome with foalish guilt. Then, without meaning to do so, he stumbled into Pebble’s headspace, and he had a sudden understanding of what it had to be like for her having to deal with her parents not being around. It was awful and it gave him a new appreciation for her pain. Feeling a light touch, he moved his head around and in the dim dark beneath the blanket, he could make out Pebble, she was looking at him, her head now resting upon Marble’s other foreleg and she had turned to see him. Her hoof was resting upon the side of his face. She pulled away for a second, and then her hoof came to rest upon his snoot. “Boop.” Beside him, Marble drew in a deep breath and Sumac just lay there, not knowing how to respond, with Pebble’s hoof resting upon his nose. For reasons he could not comprehend or understand, it made him feel better. One ear flickered against the blanket pulled over him and Sumac felt himself calming down just a little bit. After a few precious moments, Pebble pulled her hoof away, snuggled up against Marble, closed her eyes, and then went still. Sumac lay there, consumed with worry, but also filled with a powerful need to close his eyes. Marble was warm and quite soft. Without meaning to do so, Sumac dozed off. Falling. He had dreamed about falling. Feeling sweaty, a bit too warm, and a bit panicked, Sumac awoke. Marble and Pebble both were sound asleep. Moving with a great deal of caution, Sumac extracted himself from the dark beneath the blanket. He poked his head out and had a look around. Ears perking, he listened for sounds. Like an earthworm, he wiggled out from beneath the blanket and landed upon the floor with as much stealth as he could muster. Pebble and Marble were still asleep. Good. He let out a little huff of relief and looked over at where Boomer was. She was looking back at him. Before he could respond or react, Boomer lept, spread out all four of her legs along with her wing membranes, and then landed upon his horn. She situated herself and then began messing up Sumac’s mane, pulling and tugging, giving him a new mane style. His glasses were beside the lantern on top of the wooden cabinet. Staring at them, he could not summon the magic he needed to put them on. His horn sparked and fizzled, but nothing happened. In a way, this was comforting. If he couldn’t do magic, that meant that others wouldn’t be able to do magic either—but no doubt, the earth ponies still had their earth pony strength. Pebble smashing a boulder was still fresh in his memory. Turning his head, Sumac felt a new fondness for Pebble and for Marble as well. But that didn’t help him put on his glasses. Rearing up, he stood on his hind legs and tried to get his glasses with his hooves. Earth ponies had to do it somehow. He was clumsy and he managed to knock his glasses around on top of the cabinet. He almost knocked over the lantern. Frustrated, he placed his nose on the edge of the cabinet and tried to slide his glasses onto his face, but all he managed to do was stab himself in the eye. Tears welled up and he was on the verge of crying in frustration when Boomer saved him. The smart little dragon figured out that Sumac was helpless and with her little clawed hands, she grabbed his glasses, which were quite big compared to her small body, and she was able to maneuver them onto Sumac’s face without stabbing him in the eye. “Thanks Boomer,” Sumac whispered, “you’re the greatest.” Making a faint trilling sound, Boomer reached down and gave Sumac’s forelock an affectionate tug. Trying to keep his hooves quiet on the wooden floor, Sumac crept for the door. He knew a spell to make his hooves quiet, it was difficult but he could cast it… sometimes. Trixie had taught him stealth—sometimes, the best way to deal with monsters was running away from them and not fighting them. Life cheated and sometimes, one had to cheat right back. Trixie had made that clear, but then she had also laid down rules on when it was okay to cheat and when it wasn’t. It took a little effort, but he got the door open. The bathroom was right next door to this room, and that was where he was headed. After that, he wasn’t sure what he would do, but he didn’t want to come back to bed. He was awake now, for good or for ill. Maybe, if he was lucky, Cloudy would feed him again. Wary, making cautious, tiny foal-steps, Sumac made his way down the hall. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to be up after his nap. He pressed up against the wall, and very much like a small cat, he slunk down the hallway towards the living room. Upon reaching the living room, he stopped, stuck his head around the corner, and had himself a look. Sitting in a chair was the gruffest, crankiest, flintiest looking stallion that Sumac had ever seen. He also had the biggest, bushiest, stallioniest sideburns that Sumac had ever laid eyes upon. Swallowing, Sumac stood there, frozen, not knowing what to say at the moment. The old grumpy looking stallion was looking right at him. His eyes looked hard, like granite. “Son…” “Sir?” Sumac, panicking, tried to remember all of the good manners that Trixie had tried to teach him. He hadn’t paid as much attention as he should have. He saw the old stallion's eyebrow raising, and Sumac felt his heart leap into his throat. The old pony was scary. “Son, you have a lizard on your head.” Blinking, frozen in place, traumatised by the day, Sumac’s brain shut down. Unable to process the situation, he stood there, leaning against the wall, peering around the corner at the old pony who sat in a chair. Try as he might, he could not think of anything to say in response. He couldn’t even correct the old stallion by saying that Boomer was a pygmy tree dragon, a type of wyvern, and not a lizard. “Cloudy… Cloudy!” The old pony threw back his head. “Cloudy, another sarsaparilla is needed!” “Keep your hat on, Igneous!” a voice called out from the kitchen. “Not in the house.” Igneous leveled his gaze upon Sumac once more. “Come over here and have a seat, son.” He pointed at the couch. “My name’s Igneous. You may call me Igneous. Come on over here, son, and don’t be shy.” The old pony sounded gruff. He seemed to recall that Trixie had told him some stories about Igneous, but he couldn’t remember very much, other than Igneous was mean. More than a little frightened, Sumac hurried across the room and climbed up on the couch where Igneous had told him to sit. The last thing he wanted was the gruff old stallion upset with him. As Sumac got himself comfortable, Cloudy strolled into the room with an opened bottle of sarsaparilla balanced upon her nose. Sumac got himself an eyeful of the earth pony way. When she reached the small table beside the couch where he sat, Cloudy lifted the bottle from her nose, holding it in her fetlock, and she sat it down upon the table, on top of a lace doily. “Thank you,” Sumac said, trying to sound as polite as possible, mindful of how gruff Igneous looked. The glass bottle was frosty and little wisps of near frozen vapour rose up from the opening. Turning about, Cloudy faced her husband and narrowed her eyes. “Igneous, if you tease this poor colt about being Pebble’s special somepony, so help me, I will make you rue the day you married me. Rue, I tell you!” “Fine, Cloudy, take all of the fun out of it.” Igneous’ voice was scratchy and gritty. There was love here, Sumac realised, but it was a confusing sort of love, a rough and tumble sort of love. It didn’t make much sense to him, but he could appreciate it for what it was. Reaching out, he was able to grip the bottle in his fetlock. Lifting it, he took a sip, and then shuddered, having never had sarsaparilla like this before. It was strong. It left him feeling light headed and woozy. Cloudy walked away, her tail swishing, and her nose up in the air. Sumac, holding his bottle, watched her go as he listened to Igneous chuckling. When Cloudy was gone back into the kitchen, he returned his attention to Igneous, the gruff and grumpy looking earth pony. Clutching his bottle, he held it close and watched Igneous’ every move. “It makes sense that Pebble’s best friend would be a unicorn. She takes after her mother, she does. Now, to be honest, there was a time when I might’ve frowned upon such a thing, but after seeing how happy Tarnish has made Maud, well, I have to say, I’m glad that Pebble has her mother’s sensibilities.” Igneous leaned back in his chair and made himself comfortable. Wide-eyed, Sumac stared at Igneous, but said nothing. Thirsty, he took another drink from his bottle of sarsaparilla, then shuddered. It was good, but it was strong. There was a hint of medicinal flavour, at least a flavour that Sumac associated with medicine. “Pebble loves her daddy, he’s a unicorn, and to be honest… I love her daddy too. Tarnish is like a son to me.” Igneous leveled his stern, unyielding gaze upon Sumac. “Just so you know, you’re safe, son, and you can relax a little. The security on this farm has already been tested quite a number of times and has been found to be quite effective. As for you and me, I’m already sharing my sarsaparilla supply with you, and I don’t do that with everypony.” Sumac watched as the old pony took a drink and he tried to think of something to say. He didn’t know what he and Igneous had in common. This was the pony that his mother didn’t like? Maybe his mother had made a mistake—sure, Igneous was a little rough, but Sumac decided that he liked him. Unbeknownst to him, Sumac had discovered another male role model. “So, son, tell me about your lizard.” “Her name is Boomer,” Sumac replied, relaxing a little. “She’s a dragon.” “Dragons are just big lizards.” Igneous narrowed his eyes and peered at Boomer. “Is she a pet?” “No, sir, she is not a pet.” Sumac found himself engaged and his many worries faded from his mind. “She’s like… well, she’s like… she’s like a family member. Like my little sister. I have to feed her, look after her, care for her, and I have to be real responsible. Pebble and I both care for her. Together.” “A colt your age… being responsible for all of that… hmm…” Igneous’ lips pressed into a straight line. “Not many colts I know could be that responsible for their little sisters, even though they should be. Colts these days are lazy good for nothings. Rotten little cusses, the lot of them. I hope that Maud has a colt, so he can be raised right. I’d be glad to have a hoof in that. With any luck, that colt’ll turn out like Tarnish.” Was that a compliment? Sumac didn’t know. He took a drink from his bottle and kept an eye on Igneous’ face, trying to read his expressions. Clearing his throat, Sumac said, “Sir, Trixie, uh, um, my mother, she uh, she raised me to be responsible.” “Did she now?” Igneous’ voice sounded even more scratchy and rough than usual. “Call me Igneous, son.” The gruff old pony tipped back his bottle and took a long pull. After swallowing, he squinted at Sumac. “It’s nice to have somepony I can drink with. Tarnish is away and Sonneur, well, Sonneur eloped and robbed me of a chance to see my daugher married.” “He’s rotten!” Cloudy shouted from the kitchen. “So rotten!” “Maud got married in Ponyville.” Igneous sounded a bit sad as he spoke. “Marble was too shy to cause a fuss and she didn’t want ponies to fret over her and have to plan a wedding. She ran off and got Doc Hedge to hitch her with Sonneur.” “You should forgive him,” Sumac suggested, feeling a bit fearful to say such a thing. “Oh, I have, I have,” Igneous replied. “But I haven’t told him that yet. I want to see him sweat for a while longer—” “A good while longer!” Cloudy cried from her kitchen. Nodding, Igneous let out a snort and took a drink. Something almost like a smile appeared on Igneous’ muzzle, and he looked at Sumac. “You don’t look like a shirker or a disappointer, son.” “I try not to be.” Sumac felt a little awkward as his voice was a lot squeakier than he wanted it to be. He found himself relaxing, even with all of the troubles on his mind. He liked Igneous. He liked the old stallion quite a bit. “Where is Sonneur now?” “He’s with his father.” Igneous blinked a few times. “Sonneur helps his father with the funerary business. He’s probably going to be a mortician just like his dad.” “Mortician?” Sumac asked, intrigued. “A mortician is a special sort of farmer, son,” Igneous replied. “He plants the dead. Well, sometimes they do. Sometimes a pony is cremated. A mortician is more than that though, they… well…” The old stallion reached up and scratched his chin. “They also help families say goodbye to their loved ones. They help a family during a time of grief and they make everything easier. They smooth everything out so the family can grieve and not have to worry about all the complications.” Sumac had a moment where he was totally and completely overwhelmed. It took him a few seconds before his brain calmed down enough to say anything. “That sounds like something I might be interested in.” “Son?” Igneous arched an eyebrow. “I love cemeteries, they’re my happy place.” Sumac panicked, wondering if he had said the wrong thing, and he looked into Igneous’ eyes, trying to find signs of displeasure. The old pony was staring at him, both eyes narrowed, and there were wrinkles on his muzzle. “Son, that is a respectable business… an honourable one.” Igneous raised his bottle in an honest salute. “If you really are interested, more power to you. Not enough ponies to do that job. It takes a special sort of pony indeed.” The gruff old stallion gave Sumac a nod. “If cemeteries make you happy, that’s a fine thing, and don’t let nopony tell you no different. We should all spend a little time among the stones, remembering those who came before us.” Sumac felt stunned from Igneous’ sincere encouragement. The troubles in his mind retreated a little tiny bit and he felt better. If he didn’t know better, why, it seemed that Igneous liked him—and he found that he liked Igneous. The old stallion didn’t strike Sumac as the sort of pony who said nice things for the sake of saying nice things. Kind words had to be earned. Cloudy’s voice came drifting out of the kitchen. “Dinner will be ready soon!”