//------------------------------// // Chapter 62 // Story: Princess Twilight Sparkle's School for Fantastic Foals // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// Sumac Apple looked out on Ponyville as the dawn continued its grand and glorious rise. The southern half of town was damaged, the northern half was intact. The invaders had come from the south, so what he saw made sense to Sumac. He sat on the steps of Twilight’s castle, trying to put the pieces together, as he felt that his own life was in ruins. Gorgonzola the dragon flew overhead, moving timber, stone, and other supplies from place to place. Princess Celestia, still in armor, moved from place to place, assembling houses. Using her magic, she would lift whole timbers, planks, boards, nails, stone blocks, mortar, along with other bits and bobs, then press everything into a basic frame for a house, which could be finished by others. Sumac knew from listening to others that Princess Luna was still in the south, fighting a fierce battle as she drove what was left of the enemy back. Everypony was doing their part. He saw Seville, who was taking pictures of Princess Celestia, both Twilight Velvet and Night Light were helping with construction, using magic to make short work of monumental tasks, and he was pretty sure that he saw Gosling flying in circles around Gorgonzola. Olive and Starlight Glimmer moved from place to place, picking up and removing rubble. Olive really was a telekinetic brute, Sumac saw undeniable proof of that now as she worked. With ease, she picked things up that it would take several normal adult unicorns as a group working together to lift. Olive seemed happy—at least, she was smiling as she worked. Sumac, five years old, was told to stay out of the way and don’t be underhoof. So, he sat on the stairs, watching the world go by, trying to make sense of what his life, and the lives of others, had become. He wished that he had somepony to talk to. Lemon Hearts was getting some much needed rest, and so was Trixie. The little colt shuddered as he remembered seeing his mother’s face without the bandage just before he was tossed into the tub. No eyelashes, no pelt, and blisters everywhere, including her eyelid. Trixie’s eye had been taped shut, so the eyelid could heal. She had reassured him though that her vision would return. “You look sad and that makes me sad.” Pinkie Pie, did indeed, sound sad. Sumac turned his head to look at her as she sat down beside him. Pinkie was a little sooty, her mane seemed a bit droopy, and she looked tired. At least her blue eyes still twinkled with some great inner joy. Sumac leaned up against her and was grateful to have somepony close. “Where’s Boomer?” Pinkie asked. “She wouldn’t leave Lemon. She hissed a bit and sucked in a lot of air to make herself look big and scary.” “Ayup, that sounds about right, dragons are super loyal to those they call family. I know that if I’m in trouble, I can always count on Spike. He’s like a second cousin thrice removed… or something. He got beat up a bit in the battle, but he’s fine.” Pinkie Pie let out a huff and shook her head. “Those harpies are meanies. They made me load my party cannon and take part in a live fire exercise.” “What? What happened?” “That,” Pinkie Pie replied as she pointed to a half demolished building. “My improvised explosives I cooked up in the Cake’s kitchen worked out a whole lot better than I thought they would. Coffee creamer is super flammable and so are harpies.” Sumac felt his mouth go dry and he just sat there, not knowing how to respond. “Those raptorians aren’t very nice either,” Pinkie added as she tapped her chin with her hoof. She sat there, her hoof still tapping, and with a slow turn of her head, she looked at Sumac. “Somepony needs you, Sumac.” “I can’t go anywhere,” Sumac said. “Oh, I’ve already asked permission for you. Trixie said I can take you anywhere I wanted, just so long as it was safe.” Pinkie Pie reached out and slipped a foreleg over Sumac’s withers. “Pebble says that she has a plan to make you feel all better.” Now Sumac felt nervous. He watched as Princess Celestia magicked another house together, producing a frame and basic walls. When had she slept last? He felt exhausted and he needed sleep himself. But he wasn’t about to go to sleep again. Nope. The dreams were nasty. Maybe he could take up a coffee habit. Pinkie was soft against him—she smelled a little like smoke as well as frosting—and Sumac was grateful to rest his head up against her. The colt offered no protest when Pinkie Pie picked him up and set him on her back. He slid into place and Pinkie Pie stood up on the stairs. Leaning forwards, he hugged her neck and rested his chin on top of her curly head. There was something about Pinkie Pie. Sure, there were times when she got on his nerves, scared him, or freaked him out, but moments like this one made up for it. “You’ve done so much for Pebble, and you don’t even know it. You’ve been a true, true friend, Sumac. And now, she wants to do something nice for you. She told me about it and while I don’t understand all of it, I think she has a good idea.” Pinkie Pie made her way down the stairs, mindful of her passenger. When she hit flat ground, she took off at a smooth gait and said, “Best friends can change the world, Sumac, you must never, ever forget that.” “I’ll do my best—” “Never ever forget that!” “Okay,” Sumac replied, no longer feeling equine, but sheepish. The house on the outskirts of the north end of town looked a bit rundown. It was also ugly, but Sumac didn’t dare say anything. The middle part of it was stone, like a small castle or something, and then it had a whole bunch of wings and a tower sticking off of it. The tower was a short, squat, wooden affair with a sagging wooden shingle roof. This place looked like a good wind would knock most of it down, with the exception of the stone block section. The front gates were laying on the ground and Pinkie walked right over them, mindful not to trip. She walked up to the front doors, opened them, walked inside, and Sumac found that they were in a tiny entry room with more doors ahead. He had never seen an entryway like this one. Pinkie pushed through the second doors and Sumac was slapped in the face by the scent of both coffee and tea. Breakfast was cooking. Pinkie passed through a living room with no furniture and into another room that was empty. Then there was a long hallway that was made of stone, which opened up into a small but neat looking foyer, which led out to a greenhouse made of mostly broken glass panels. Sitting in the foyer, was Pebble, who looked a little sleepy. “Hi, Sumac,” Pebble deadpanned. Slipping off of Pinkie’s back, Sumac hit the stone floor and his hooves clattered. As he was getting his balance, Pinkie Pie went pronking off, whistling to herself. For a moment, he watched her go, and then he gave his attention to Pebble, whom he scooted closer to. Even though he didn’t say it, he wouldn’t say it, he was happy to see her. “Home needs a little work, but I like it here. We also need furniture. And a roof in some places. And windows. The greenhouse isn’t much to look at either.” Pebble let heave a sigh of compressed ennui. “I had trouble sleeping last night. I kept waking up from bad dreams. After a while, I just gave up, went to someplace nice, and had myself a good think. And I had a good idea.” “And that is?” Sumac asked. “Vinyl Scratch,” Pebble replied. “What?” “Vinyl isn’t well. Something really bad happened to her and nopony told me. I’m kinda angry but I’m too happy to have everypony back to be that angry about it.” Pebble slumped over and let out another sigh. “Vinyl was in Manehattan when the trouble happened. She got involved in the fighting and her and Princess Luna had a big tall building thrown at them. Princess Luna saved my aunt Vinyl, but she still had her back broken and she was paralysed—” “That’s horrible!” Sumac blurted out. Pebble nodded. “Thankfully, the Stiff Upper Lip Society has a few healers around and it took all of them working together, but they put Vinyl back together. She’s not quite the same as she was and I’m worried. Vinyl is supposed to be happy and prankish and annoying and right now, she is none of those things. I think she’s in pain, but she won’t tell me. But, I have a cunning plan.” “For what?” Sumac’s ears stood up as he posed his question. “I think I know how to make Vinyl happy again and how to help my best friend with something I don’t understand, but I know it is important to you as a unicorn.” Pebble leaned over, placed her muzzle just a few inches away from Sumac, waggled her eyebrows, and said, “You are going to ask Vinyl to be your master.” “What?” Sumac was running out of whats to say and he knew it. “Now, Vinyl is mute, but she can communicate. You just have to pay attention. If you don’t pay attention, she’ll get annoyed and she’ll get your attention the hard way. She’s sensitive about not being listened to.” Pebble’s eyebrows went still and she pulled away from Sumac. “This will work out great. I’ll get to spend more time with you, you will have a master, Vinyl will be happier, and more importantly, Vinyl can also help keep you safe.” Brows furrowing, Sumac considered Pebble’s many words. “Did you like my grandparent’s farm?” Pebble asked. “Yeah.” Sumac nodded, still thinking about what Pebble had said. He looked over at Pebble and noticed a little curl in her forelock, and even though he would never, ever, under any circumstance say it out loud, he thought that it made her look kinda nice. Pretty even. Pebble might have been a plain looking brown, but Sumac was beige, as Discord had pointed out. “Are you about to kiss me or something?” “What?” Sumac scrambled away from Pebble. “No!” “Well, you were staring into my eyes—” “No I wasn’t, I was looking at your curl—oh snot.” Flustered, Sumac sat there, turning a shade of apple red. There was no good way to explain what he had been doing. Pebble was sitting there, blinking her eyes, and for some reason, Sumac thought that she looked vulnerable, but he couldn’t say why. “Do you like my curl?” Pebble leaned forwards a bit. “Aunt Pinkie, when she’s happy, her mane curls. And my mother, when she’s happy, her mane curls. And when I convinced Pinkie to go and get you and bring you to me, Pinkie said I had a little curl show up and ask politely to stay. She’s a very silly pony.” Pebble’s face turned a somewhat darker shade of brown. “Pinkie tortured me and tickled me and she extracted a confession out of me that you make me happy.” Sumac’s left ear twitched and so did his left eyelid. “Wait, you’re ticklish?” “Meep!” Pebble was on her hooves in a fraction of a second and giving Sumac a wary looking stare. “You keep to yourself, Sumac Apple. No touchy touchy.” “Aww.” The corner of Sumac’s mouth twitched and it took effort not to smile. “You know, Pebble, we’re not like other foals. We don’t play. We don’t run around. We don’t act silly.” “And we’re better for it,” Pebble deadpanned. “But we should play around. We should break the rules and run around indoors.” He saw Pebble tensing as he spoke. “We should horseplay and we should tickle—” “No, that’s not necessary.” Pebble shook her head and gave Sumac a very stern look. “We almost got killed. We were almost murdered. Who knows, something might try to kill us again, and I think I would feel bad if I didn’t at least try to play with you.” As he spoke, he could see Pebble’s nostrils flaring. When his horn flared, Pebble made a startling sound. She didn’t laugh. “Eeeeee—” When Sumac gave her a tickle along the ribs, the sound changed in pitch and volume. “—EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” Pebble took off like a fuzzy brown cannonball wearing a bright yellow dress and Sumac took off after her, limping a little on his sore front legs. Unknown to either of them, Pebble’s forelock curled up just a little bit more as her hooves clattered over the stone floor. For the first time in their relationship, the pair of them acted their age.