//------------------------------// // Exhaustion // Story: Gilded Sister // by Kind of Brony //------------------------------// “Fall in!” Grandpa Shield yells, scanning the grass in front of him as if there weren’t just a single pony standing at attention. Blueblood, for his part, is taking this a seriously as Grandpa as he stands rigid and steely eyed. “Today, we begin molding that bowl of mashed potatoes you call a body into the hardest of root vegetables, and we won’t be using alchemy! Are you ready to be a turnip, cadet!?” “Sir, yes, sir!” Bluey responds, puffing out his chest. “Are you ready to train harder than you’ve ever trained in your life!?” Well, that would be easy, since Blueblood has never done more than run away from angered adults, but I don’t mention that as I watch the exchange with an amused smile from the comfort of the sidelines. “Sir, yes, sir!” “Are you ready to be so exhausted that you’ll seriously contemplate whether getting to the bathroom when nature calls is even worth leaving your bed!?” A second of confusion, then, “Sir, yes, sir!” “Are you ready to work so hard you taste blood in your mouth!?” Blueblood hesitates a moment, before resolving himself. “Sir, yes, sir!” “Are you ready for every step you take to be an unending agony!?” “Uh, Sir, yes, sir?” “Are you ready to run until the lactic acid in your muscles threatens to melt them from your very bones!” “Uh…” “Dad, please, the childrens’ birthday is coming in a few months, and I’d rather my son not spend it dead,” Dad calls from an open window, surveying the interaction with a dry expression. “Hey! This is a military operation! No civies allowed!” Grandpa calls back with narrowed eyes. “Unless you’re willing to come down here and get back in shape, I don’t want to hear it from you.” Dad’s eyes widen as he breaks out into a cold sweat, gaze going distant in memory. “Um, forget I said anything, have fun, son!” With that, the stallion pulls his head inside and slams the window shut, leaving a nervous colt and a glaring Shield. “That’s what I thought… Anyway, enough wasting time, let’s get working!” Seeing the fear in my brother’s eyes, I decide to take pity on him and finally speak up. “Grandpa Shield, maybe you should start slow. This is Bluey’s first day, after all.” “Hmm? I suppose it is,” the grey stallion agrees, rubbing his chin. After some pondering, he stomps a hoof and exclaims, “A warmup then! It’s always good to get the heart beating before a heavy training session anyway, and it’ll help give me a good idea of where you’re at.” Looking down at the colt whose hopes were just starting to rise, Grandpa declares, “Twenty laps around the garden… Well, what are you waiting for? Get to it recruit!” I could see Blueblood mouthing the words as he counts, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, before crying, “But I can’t even count that high! How am ever going to run that much?” “Hey, it’ll be easy,” I say, moving to his side. As much fun as it is to watch my overzealous grandfather in his element, I’d rather not see him break my brother’s spirit on day one. He’s been looking forward to impressing Grandpa with this ever since he moved in a week ago. “I’ll even run with you and count the laps.” Giving a small but grateful smile, Blueblood nods as Grandpa says in his booming voice, “You want to join too, Pureblood? Excellent! The more the merrier! You’ll be the strongest lass this side of Equestria.” Fighting down the urge to roll my eyes, I trot over to the edge of the garden with my brother and wait for Grandpa to give us the signal. Twenty laps would be more than I’ve ever run in one go, and I’ll probably be suffering at least one of Grandpa’s colorful descriptions afterwards, but helping Bluey out will be worth it. Hopefully he won’t get too far ahead of me, since I’ll be the once counting the laps. Well, this is surprising, Stalwart thought as he watched his grandfoals finish their warmup. Or more accurately, Pureblood finished. “Aaand twenty! Woo! That was exhilarating!” Pure stated as she slowed to stop, though she continued to trot in place for a few seconds as she turned around. “Come on, Bluey! You can do it! It’s only, like, four or five more laps!” A blush came to her cheeks. “I, eheh, I guess I lost track.” Little Blueblood was practically crawling at this point, and Shield had to stifle his laughter. He had no intention of pushing the children too hard, much of his speech being fueled by nostalgia than an actual desire to drive them into the ground like his own drill sergeant did when he first enlisted, but he didn’t think twenty laps would be that much. Why, Pure still had energy to spare, it seemed. “Okay, that’s enough cadet, you can stop now.” As soon as the words were spoken, Blueblood collapsed on his side and panted heavily. “Are you going to be okay? Do you want me to get you some water or something?” Pure asked as she approached her brother, concern plain on her face. Gulping, the colt put a hoof up, silently asking for a moment, before he finally responded, “Just… just need to… to catch… my breath.” A minute later of both Pure and Shield waiting, and little Blueblood finally started to pull himself to his hooves. Stalwart could see him try and act dignified, a trait he probably picked up from his father at some point, but the beet-red face and flaring nostrils betrayed him. “See? All better. And how are you?” Eyes closed as he wiped his sweat-drenched mane from his forehead, he failed to notice his sister roll her own. “I’m good. Better actually.” The wide smiled returned to her face. “That was great! I just feel so- so alive! I want to go another twenty laps!” Shield laughed heartily at that, scooping the filly up and tousling her mane. “There’s no mistaking you’re my granddaughter!” he said as his laughing died down to a rumbling chuckle. “Guess it skipped a generation with your father.” “H-hey, I liked it too!” Blueblood suddenly said. “I just, um… had a cramp, yeah! I can finish my laps now!” Without waiting for a response, the colt started sprinting, the heaving breaths he had been trying to hide returning in full force. To his credit, he made it two more laps before disaster struck, though maybe Shield should have stopped him before that. No doubt the elder Blueblood would be chewing him out for this. “Mom! Blueblood is sick!” Pure yelled as she ran into the kitchen, causing Ornate to nearly spill the pot of vegetable stew she was stirring. Luckily, Cutting Board, their chef, was there to steady the pot with a hoof, which he quickly whipped back with a yelp. As the stallion moved his hoof under a cold stream of water, Ornate gave him a brief apology before kneeling to her daughter. Pure was hopping from hoof to hoof and Ornate had to fight from doing the same. The idea of either of her foals being ill or injured had her ready to send for a doctor that instant, but she knew it wouldn’t do to jump to conclusions just yet. “Where is he, Sweetie, what happened? Take me to him.” Her legs were moving before her lips and Ornate nearly tripped trying to follow the filly. “We were exercising with Grandpa and I was having a lot of fun but Blue was getting tired but tried to pretend he wasn’t and kept running and then he puked all over and started crying and I don’t know what to do!” “What!?” Ornate didn’t know what she was madder about, the fact that Shield pushed her son too far when she explicitly told him not to, or that he was apparently involving Pureblood, as well. As it was, she ended up overtaking the filly and arriving at the garden first with a yell of, “What were you thinking!?” Stalwart jerked up, stained washcloth falling from his magical grasp as he met the burning eyes of a furious mother. Little Blueblood cried louder while his sister stood at the entrance, uncertainty clear in her stance. “This isn’t as bad as it looks-” “Isn’t it? Because it looks to me you made my son vomit with your half-brained idea of training. He’s a foal, you dolt! He shouldn’t be doing more than a few stretches and brisk walks, not whatever you’ve been subjecting him to!” Pushing the much larger stallion aside as if he were the scolded puppy he looked like, Ornate pulled her son into her lap and picked up the washcloth. Noticing the bottle of water sitting open nearby, she rinsed the cloth and continued the work of cleaning the colt’s face and chest. “It’s okay, my child, you’ll be all better soon.” “I-I’m sorry,” Little Blueblood whimpered, his wailing dying down to hiccuping gasps as that morning’s breakfast was wiped away. “I couldn’t f-finish…” “Hey now,” Shield began, stalling only a moment before powering through the glare Ornate shot his way. “I’m not upset with you, lad, we should have started out slower. You don’t have to run twenty laps.” The colt’s cheeks grew only redder and he buried his face into his mother’s fur. “But I wanna…” He mumbled, peeking an eye out. “N-now you won’t want to spend time with me.” “What? No, no, no. You’ve got it all wrong!” Shield said. “You should have seen me on my first day as a fresh recruit; I bumbled up worse than an Apple trying to grow pears. I used to get called toilet breath because of how often I was made to clean the latrine with my toothbrush.” When Blueblood peeked a curious eye out, the stallion explained, “The bathroom, lad.” Blueblood was shocked. “Wha-? Ew! That’s gross!” Chuckling, Stalwart said, “It was, and I had to do that for the first two months before the drill sergeant finally whipped me into good enough shape to keep up with the rest of my troop.” His eyes suddenly became downcast. “I’m sorry if I made you think that you had to be perfect for me to want to spend time with you, I got carried away. Blueblood, I want you to have fun with this, with me, not think this is some sort of test you can fail.” When he reached for the foal, Ornate let him and he pulled Bluey into a loose embrace. “I just want you to become stronger, to be the best that you can be, and to enjoy yourself while you’re doing so… but, if you don’t want to train anymore after this, I’ll understand.” Shaking his head violently, Blueblood yelled, “No! I wanna spend time with you! I wanna be strong! Grandpa, please, can we keep training?” Stalwart’s face was split by a large grin. “Of course!” he exclaimed, changing from solemn to boisterous in the blink of an eye as he leapt to his hooves. The attitude quickly mellowed however at seeing Ornate Garden's stern gaze. “Er, tomorrow of course. Rest up and we’ll start up first thing in the morning? That sound good to you, soldier?” Blueblood saluted, only the tear stains on his cheeks left as indication that he was ever sad. “Sir, yes, sir!” Ornate simply looked from her son to his grandfather before sighing. “Boys,” she muttered, standing up and preparing to usher the colt inside to get cleaned up the rest of the way and perhaps replace some of the food he upchucked on the petunias. Before she could however, a small hoof pressed against her leg. Looking down, she asked, “What is it, Pure?” The filly glanced between her mother and the boys before letting her eyes settle on the grass. “Um, Would it… would it be okay if I trained with Grandpa and Bluey, too?” she asked, shuffling her hooves. “It’s fun.” While Stalwart began praising the idea, a sharp look had him clamping his mouth shut before Ornate spoke, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetie. Training can be dangerous, and I don’t want you to get hurt.” Pure looked up, a frown on her face. “But you’re letting Blueblood do it. Why is it dangerous for me, but not him?” This got the mare to sputter a moment. “W-well, wouldn’t you rather focus on your books? I mean, Class Act is going to be taking you to the library next week, and I’m sure you’ll have plenty to read once you return.” Frown deepening, Pure responded. “I can do both, Mom.” Hurt entered her eyes as she continued, “It’s because of my magic isn’t it? You don’t think I can do anything because of that.” “No, that’s not… entirely true.” Ornate’s argument died on her lips as she saw her daughter sag in defeat, and she couldn’t think of what to say. It was true, Pure was a fragile girl, and the idea of her getting hurt even a little terrified the mare. “I promise not to go overboard again, Ma’am,” Shield said from the side. “Pureblood will be perfectly safe with us, I give you my word.” Looking down to see the hope on her filly’s face, Ornate couldn’t help but cave. “Okay, Pure, you can spend the mornings with your brother and grandpa, but I want you to be careful, all of you. I don’t want another repeat of today.” While the filly cheered, hugging her leg before running over to do the same to Stalwart, Ornate really hoped she wouldn’t regret her decision. Another scare like the one she got from when Pure came yelling into the kitchen, and she’d start to go grey in the mane before she hit thirty. “Isn’t this great, Blueblood? We’re going to be training together!” Pure cheered. The colt smiled, though with far less enthusiasm. “Yeah… that’s great.” Pure tilted her head for a moment, but shrugged before asking her grandfather what sort of things they’d be doing. She didn’t see her brother’s smile fall or his shoulders sag. Something is definitely up with Blueblood, and I’m pretty sure it has to do with me. When Mom had agreed to letting me train with him and Grandpa, I thought he’d be as excited as I was. His smile seemed a bit strained at the time, but I figured it was just his stomach still bothering him and so didn’t think much of it. An upset stomach wouldn’t last this long though. I mean, sure, I didn’t even know it was possible to puke from too much exercise, how would I? Too much exercise was never on my laundry list of health concerns before, so I never thought about it, but the way Blueblood’s been avoiding my gaze is probably not from a tummy ache. We just finished dinner and were now in our playroom, having some time before bed to enjoy each other’s company, or at least, we should be. Instead, Blueblood is sitting as far away from me as possible, back turned as he fiddles with some of his tin soldiers. Usually, this would be the time I’d read a book with him and he would practice reading the words. He never got more than a few, but he was always so proud of himself after. “Bluey, do you want to read this book with me? It’s about a caterpillar eating all sorts of things and frankly being quite wasteful.” I look down at the page as the worm simply eats a hole straight through an apple before moving on to the next meal. What a waste of a perfectly good fruit. “Good for him,” the colt mumbles, not turning his head. Okay, enough of this. “Blueblood, are you mad at me?” I ask, trying to be firm, but struggling to keep the quiver from my voice. We’ve been upset with each other before, but Blue’s never given me the cold shoulder for more than a few minutes until now and it’s worrying. Blueblood peeks at me before looking away again. “… It was supposed to be for me.” “What?” “It was going to be our time, just Grandpa and me. You weren’t supposed to do it too.” I see his shoulders tense as his voice tightens. “And you weren’t supposed to be better than me.” Finally turning to face me, I flinch at the glare he directs my way. “You’re already the smart one; Mom and Dad talk about it all the time, so why can’t I be the strong one? Why do you have to be better than me?” “Wha-? Bluey, I am not better than you,” I say, affronted. “I thought you would be happy that we can do this together.” “I would have been if you didn’t beat me.” “It wasn’t a race!” “Yes it was!” the colt shouts with a stomp of his hoof. “I was trying to beat you, but you kept getting more and more ahead. And then you started lapping me. Now Grandpa is gonna train you and won’t even pay attention to me anymore.” “Grandpa isn’t like that,” I say, trying to organize my thoughts. When did this even start? When did he even start caring so much about me being smart? I thought we got past that when he started taking our reading together seriously. “This isn’t a competition-” “Yes it is!” he interrupts, knocking his tin soldiers over. “I was going to be better than you at something, but you beat me at that too! You and Mom are always reading books I can’t read, or stupid Class Act comes over and makes me do stupid plays with you, and you always know all of your lines and I keep getting told I’m doing it wrong. This was going to be mine, mine and Grandpa Shield’s, just for me, but now I have to share with you, and you’re better than me again!” I stare wide-eyed as the colt huffs, mane wild after his tantrum. Thinking back, I do regret always guilting him into playing along with Class and me when she visited, having known he didn’t find the same enjoyment from theater as we did. And I did rub it in more than I should have that I was smarter than him. Spending time with Mom reading was hardly something for him to get mad about, but I can at least see his point. I understand why he’s mad, but that doesn’t stop my own blood from boiling. “Magic.” “What?” he asks, some of his anger turning to confusion. “What about magic?” “You have magic. You and Dad go outside and practice all the time, picking flowers with it or throwing rocks. I can’t do that, any of it, but I’ve never been mad that you could.” I stand and march over to him, jabbing him in the chest hard. “And I want to do those things, I want to be able to do magic with Dad, for him to tell all his friends how good I am at it instead of being the smart girl with a useless horn on her head!” Flustered, Blueblood tries to argue, “B-but, it doesn’t make me special doing magic like you being smart does. No pony ever thinks it’s cool when I do magic, but all the grownups always talk about you.” “At least you can get smarter!” I counter. “I even try helping you! And you know what? You can get stronger too, and faster, that’s the point of training with Grandpa isn’t it? But you know what can’t change? Me doing magic!” I’m ashamed of the tears building up in the corner of my eyes, but no amount of rage can prevent them. “I can’t learn that. No amount of hard work will let me lift things with my mind or teleport or do any of the crazy, amazing things you’ll be able to do someday. “Blueblood, you’re going to be great, and I want you to be, but I don’t want to have to be nothing just to avoid you hating me.” Falling to my rump, the last of my anger evaporates and I feel drained. “I don’t want to be just a burden to every pony around me.” Not again, not like last time. The room goes quiet save for my sniffles and the shuffling of hooves on carpet. I don’t know what my brother is thinking, if he’s still angry, but I can’t muster the will to look. What am I supposed to do? “M’sorry,” Blue whispers in my ear as he wraps his hooves around my shoulders. “Bluey?” I whisper back, surprised. “I… I thought you hated me…” His hug tightens as he repeats, “I’m sorry.” Nothing else is said as we remain like this for several minutes. Relief floods my heart as I hug my brother back, an apology already on my lips for yelling, but Blueblood ends up being the first to break the silence. “I don’t want you to be nothing, you’re so much fun.” He begins pulling away to wipe the moisture from his cheeks. “I like reading with you, and eating snacks with you, and playing with you, and-and I’ll like training with you too.” “I can tell Grandpa I changed my mind,” I offer, wiping my own face dry. “It can just be the two of you two like you wanted.” I can see it in his eyes, his desire to say yes, and it hurts a little, knowing he doesn’t want me around, that he sees me as a burden, but I’m willing to do it make him happy. That’s why I’m so surprised when he suddenly shakes his head and gives a firm, “No.” “What?” “I want you to train with me and Grandpa.” “But I thought-” “Grandpa will be sad if you don’t do it.” Well, that was probably true, though I’m sure the stallion would get over it soon enough. I'm going to say as much before Blueblood continues, suddenly leaping to his hooves with a steely gaze and radiating determination. “I’ll just have to train really hard ‘til I’m the best!” Despite all that has happened, I can’t help but sigh. “Bluey, it’s not a competition. Why can’t we just have fun and help each other?” He deflates a little, looking sheepish. “Oh, right, um okay…” Puffing up again, he tries, “We’ll train together and be the best…! But I’ma still be better.” Ignoring the mumbled bit at the end, I say, “Right, we’ll help each other get stronger.” “Yeah, and I’m gonna help you use magic!” my brother declares, getting a nervous look from me. “Um, I don’t think it works that way…” “Sure it does, I’ll help you learn how to use your horn just like you teach me how to read. Grandpa says hard work makes anything possible, so we just need to work hard.” He’s so confident in his logic that I know I won’t be able to persuade him otherwise, so instead, I simply agree. He’ll probably change his mind or forget about it in a couple weeks anyway, so what’s the harm? “Great!” he shouts, throwing a hoof in the air and leaving it there for several seconds. “So… um, wanna start now?” Smirking, I point over to where I was sitting before. “Want to just read that book for now instead? It’s too close to bedtime to start any rigorous training.” With an awkward agreement, we end up lying side by side with a book between us as I help Blueblood sound out the words and we berate the jerk caterpillar. That cherry pie is no good now with a hole eaten through it, and it’ll have to go in the trash. That fiend! The harrowing story of an evil bug is the final loop de loop of what turned into an emotional roller-coaster of a day, and the two of us simply snuggle each other and slowly fall asleep. One thing my old life had over this one is that it was a lot less hectic, what with spending days on end with nothing but my thoughts, ceiling tiles, and some books for company. Pulling the warm body closer to me with a smile, I wouldn’t trade this for anything.