//------------------------------// // Chapter 17: Another Murder // Story: Fools and Drunks // by Jordan179 //------------------------------// So Three Leaf concluded her visit, and nopony was slain -- at least not then, nor by Three Leaf. We all continued to prepare for our great festival, which would celebrate the 125th Equestriad -- 500 years since the Two Sisters had founded the Realm. And 'twould see the betrothal of Starlet and Roneo. And mine own fifteenth birthday, when I would become fully a young mare by the reckoning of mine era. And the day Princess Luna would formally announce my acceptance as a Cadet in the Night Guard. That last was the thing I desired most in all the world. Father, as well, looked forward to the celebration. 'Twould be the most brave showing ever of Sunney Towne, and he was headpony; 'twould also be a test of his skills as an amusing-pony. As Grey Hoof labored on the preparations, the darkness seemed to lift from his mind. Once again, Father was glad. Mitta and I began to hope that the old Grey Hoof, our beloved hero and friend; had returned. In planning this great feast, he was doing something of use and within his power to perform; he forgot to mope over his mother. Might not his new good mood last? We all worked together to prepare for the feast. We readied the benches and tables and put them out in the town square behind our main gates. We went to Riverbridge and brought back those supplies we could not raise at home. We cleaned and laid out our cookpots. We made ready in every way. We wanted to make a good display of it. For mine own self, for Starlet and Roneo, and for the Moon Princess. We wanted to show that Sunney Towne was not some sad little dying backwater, but a merry village, on the way to becoming a true town, in fact rather than only in name. Grey Hoof started talking of ways to welcome trade, on terms that would serve to check contagion. Late on the fifth day of that last week, he asked me about the laws of inspection and quarantine; and, on the morning of the sixth, after I had time to consult my books, asked me further questions on the matter. I answered to the best of my ability, and I was right glad to do so, for I saw that he now kenned how his fears had been choking our trade. 'Twas as if Father were awaking from some long sleep, not of his body but of his reason. Most of us who loved him -- mine own self and Mitta and Starlet and Three Leaf -- were greatly gladdened. I walked around, in those last days of my life, with light heart and cheerful step. My mother laughed much with my father, and I often saw him rubbing cheeks with her. Once, I caught him nibbling her neck in a way that made me blush. It was as it had been when she was working on him, but now I knew there was naught of design in her manner. They but loved one another honest and pure. And this web of love extended further. For I saw my mother in private converse with Three Leaf, and they both seemed very happy about something. Later, I spied Three Leaf in a very close conversation with my father, and then they kissed, loving and long. When they parted, Three Leaf went bounding off, her face suffused with joy; happy and playful, frisking as if she were once again a young and innocent filly, rather than a middle-aged mare, worn down by the cares of motherhood and the cruelties of the world. And seeing this, mine own heart was also gladdened, for I thought I knew what had just passed between them, and 'twas something that both my mother and mine own self had long desired. And I was right, for I later learned that Grey Hoof and Three Leaf had declared their intention to betroth, so that when they wed, Three Leaf would become Mitta's co-wife, and Three Leaf mine own co-mother. And Gladstone would be mine acknowledged brother, and thus the breach between us mended, I hoped, for good. This would of course also mean that Grey Hoof would formally acknowledge his own siring of Gladstone, and hence the taints with which Dainty Hoof had stained the reputes of both Three Leaf and Gladstone be wiped away. Right glad I was of this: I had always loved and admired Three Leaf, and deemed the calumnies against her wholly undeserved. And as for Gladstone -- I did not hate him, and hoped that this restoration of both their honors and public acknowledgement by his father would at last make him happy. And that a happy Gladstone would cease to see me as his rival. One would, indeed, have expected Gladstone to be elated at the prospect of his mother's honor restored, and he himself no longer held a bastard. In his place, I would have been ecstatic. Yet when he learned of this, he was not happy, but rather sullen, though when I asked him why, he could not say. I have since had a thousand and five years to study Gladstone, and while I cannot say I full well ken him, I have come to some conclusions. Gladstone is not a happy Pony. He savors his gloom and his grudges, and he likes not when he is given less reason to resent the unfairness of the world. As his mother loves to heal, he loves to harm, and cherishes his insults, that he might avenge them on everypony around him. Indeed, there is no pleasing him. But Three Leaf was right well pleased, and she spent the last days of her life in a happy daze, that she would at last wed the stallion she ever truly loved. They decided to declare their betrothal at the Harvest Festival, rather than at the same time as Starlet and Roneo, so that they would not take away from Starlet's great moment, and wed perhaps at the next Summer Sun Festival, a year hence; or on the Loving-Day -- what ye do now call 'Hearts and Hooves.' And there, Mitta would also embrace her before all, to signal her acceptance of and love for her new co-wife; thus binding Mitta and Three Leaf also together within the marriage. 'Twould have been beautiful. 'Twas ne'er to be, but 'twould have been beautiful. And I am right glad that, in the last days of her life, Three Leaf was full of joy. 'Twas on the afternoon of the sixth day of that fatal week that Roneo at last did return from Pie-Towne, bearing the ruby that would be his trothing-gift for Starlet. And the rest of us, Starlet most of all, gazed upon his gift in wonder. Bad luck? O no, dear Snails, we did not deem it such back then, for the intended to see the trothing-gift before the trothing-feast. Why the custom did change, I know not, save that it may be that ye have become more romantic regarding betrothal and marriage then we were in mine own breathing days. 'Twas not that we did not love. We loved right full and well, as thou mayest ken from the tale of mine own father and his three beloveds, or from the passion of Starlet and Roneo. We were warm and caring -- even lusty -- equine beings, just as are ye moderns. We wanted love, yes, but we also wanted foals: the more so for the cause that so many of our foals died young, of ills ye have learned to check. I myself lost a full and a half-sibling that way. And we very much wanted our unions to be alliances of the fortunes of both bride and groom, so as to give them and their future foals the best possible chances of a good and full and long life together. With your modern wealth and healing arts, ye may take such things for granted: even a poor couple in your age is safer from the blows of ill Fortune than was a rich one in my breathing days. Ye can almost always make a living, and in good health. We could count on no such good fortune: in my day, the fate of a poor Pony down on her luck might be right grim indeed. We needed to make sure our mates were fit, for their ability might stand between our own selves and our deaths by hunger or disease -- and the deaths of our foals, to boot. So Roneo, through the fitness of his gift and the diligence with which he had won it, was showing not only to Starlet, but also to us her kin, his worth to husband her. For the cause that we did favor Roneo's suit, we had given him good rede in the choosing of his trothing gift, that it might be worthy of our Starlet and hence do her honor. Thus we all had a good idea of what gift Roneo had got for Starlet. Naytheless, when first we did behold the ruby, we were all of us awed. 'Twas so big and red and beautiful, and there was something about the way that light flowed through it that I found full fascinating. I felt it held some mystery -- some destiny -- beyond the obvious that it would mean Starlet's betrothal; some secret just beyond my ken. I was right, but 'twas not a destiny any of us would welcome. Roneo was right proud of his ruby, and wanted to be sure that none might rape him of it. Um, that means 'steal it from him': sometimes I do forget that ye have rather narrowed the meaning of 'rape' these last couple of centuries. 'Tis a bother at times how fast language changes! In any case, Roneo kept the ruby on him, in a little old leathern purse that dangled from his neck in front, with the thought that he thus could not be reaved of his treasure. This was not a wholly bad idea, but the problem was that Roneo could become far too focused on a chore to pay attention to anything outside that chore. And the thong from which his bag depended was also old ... and badly worn. 'Twas on the morning of my last day of life that I learned what had happened. I was wending my way about the village on errands for my father, helping him with the preparations for the feast. I had gotten an early start, and was ahead of mine appointed tasks, when I saw Roneo sitting in the doorway of our warehouse -- the big one we had built in the hopes of the trade Grey Hoof had later throttled -- gazing sadly at Starlet, who was sitting at a table in the main square. My sister was beaming out at one and all passerby, as she worked on arranging settings for the coming party, with a big fixed grin that was clearly meant to show that she was entirely on top of her world. To me, who knew her all too well, 'twas plain that Starlet was close to stark shrieking panic. I gazed upon the scene a short while, then stepped over to Starlet, sat down beside her. We looked one upon the other, and I could see the barely controlled terror in her eyes, as if something had just happened to blight her whole world. At that point in mine existence, I had not seen such a look on any Pony who had not just had a loved one die, so I too was much-affrighted, yet I calmed myself for the sake of Starlet, and did but ask her: "Sister -- what is wrong?" "Wrong?" Starlet asked, with a hollow little laugh that made it sound as if she were dying. "Why nothing at all is wrong with me. I am a lovely maiden, on the morning of mine own Trothing-Day. What could be wrong?" Her voice rose to what was almost a shriek on that last word. Truly, she sounds better now. And she is now dead. I considered my sister's statement; looked back at Roneo, who still stared sadly at Starlet, from his position by the warehouse door. I am good at finding things, but to find the answer to this riddle required naught but common sense. I am sure ye have seen it. Nay? Ah well, ye are not Finders. "The Trothing," I guessed, and saw her eyes widen, confirming that I was right. "Something has gone wrong with thy Trothing." Starlet crumpled, mouth down and ears drooping, a perfect picture of sorrow to match Roneo. For a moment I felt sorry that I had asked Starlet the questions, for all they were needful. Then she recovered some of her spirit, gathered herself up and glared at me. "I suppose thou'rt glad," she accused. "Thine own prospects have been spoiled by the flight of thine own swain -- and now mine are as well!" I winced, then flared up in anger, both at the unfairness of Starlet's accusation and by her repeated false assumption. "Ravenwood was not my swain!" I snapped at her. "And how art thy prospects ruined? Roneo has not fled -- he sits right there!" I swept my foreleg and pointed at the stallion under discussion, who blinked at me with a doleful mien. "Roneo?" asked Starlet. "Roneo?" she repeated. "Why, of course Roneo is here! Where else should he be?" 'Twas my turn to be boggled. I gaped at her, then said: "Thou hast thine intended. Thy kin and kith are all here assembled. We ready the trothing-feast. What more dost thou require for thy Trothing?" "A Trothing-Gift," said Starlet. For a moment, I did not ken her meaning. Then, it hit me. "What," I asked, "has happened to the ruby?" But that question was too direct, Starlet's nerves too raw. She burst into tears, and all I could get from her was a half-sobbed "Ask Roneo." Unable to learn more from my sister, I went to Roneo. His blue eyes, that were at most times so full of life and good cheer, looked sadly up at me. His expression was right well despairing. I sat down beside him. "Hail and well-met, Brother-To-Be," I addressed him. "May I help clear the clouds that rain on thy world?" Roneo sighed, long and deep. "Hail, My Sister Who Might Have Been," he replied. "Now, alas, who shall never be a sister of mine." "Why?" I asked, light and merry, though I was in truth far from as cheerful as I acted. "Dost thou think now on jilting Starlet? I warn thee -- an thou dost that, I shall hunt thee down without mercy!" I threatened, grinning broadly so that he might know that I but jested. Roneo sighed even more heavy. "I would but deserve it," he said, "for I have broken the heart of the best girl in the world!" "Well," I said, "smiling at him, "you will, if you don't betroth her." At that, he started to cry -- great slow tears rolled down his handsome cream-white cheek -- and I took pity on him. Roneo can be a big baby at times. "Roneo," I asked softly, "what happened to your ruby?" At that, he sobbed even worse, but finally managed to blubber out "I lost it!" I was saddened, but not shocked, by this revelation. I knew that something bad had befallen the ruby, and by the nature of gems, there were only so many bad things that can happen to them. Rubies are very hard stones -- the second hardest non-magical gemstones -- and while they can be cracked by hammers, burned up by very hot fires or dissolved in certain acids, 'twould be difficult for Roneo to do any of these things by mere mischance. Why, thankee, dear Snails. In truth I cannot claim any wide-ranging mastery of gem-lore, though over the centuries I have learned somewhat of the subject. I knew the properties of rubies, of course, even back then, for the cause that they are mine own name-stone -- and my curiosity had been further roused by my long knowledge that Roneo was to give one to Starlet. As for myself, I am strong, but as ye shall see, I have been broken; I have passed through hot fire, yet still have worth. I am unspoiled, and shall never be spoiled, not even as I might hotly desire. And this is more than a mere joke, yet less than a riddle-game, for ye do both ken what I am: I am, and remain, Ruby Gift. I smiled in good cheer; gazed into the tear-filled blue eyes of my sister's lover; mine own almost-brother, and I said: "Do not lose hope, Roneo! What's lost may be found, and together we can find it!" At this, Roneo's ears perked up a moment. Then he sighed a third time, still heavier than before, as if all hope of light and life had vanished from his world. "'Tis no use," he moaned. "I looked and looked and looked, and yet could not find it. How canst thou?" "We shall find it," I told him, "working together. Thou shalt show me where thou didst wend thy way, and I shall search along it for the gem. Mayhap mine eyes shall prove sharper than thine!" I said, smiling warmly at my friend. Slow -- almost unwilling -- he returned my smile. And, for he had no better hope nor plan, he went out with me to search for the ruby. So we ventured out into the nooning day, Roneo and mine own self. This was the last time I was to walk freely under the Sun, unsmitten by her might; had I known this, I might have reveled in the fine late-June day. 'Twas both the last day of spring, and of my life. If I had known -- alas, I did not know. Ha! I am such a ninny! Had I known, of course, I would not have wasted mine hours dawdling in the summer day. No: I would have galloped onto the main road out of Sunney Towne; aye, and down it, and not have rested until I beheld the banners of the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters rising to welcome me. I would have sought sanctuary with mine own royal friend, Princess Luna, and I should have lived my life happy in her service; lived a full life and then died in mine own era, some nine hundred fifty years before your birth. Or perhaps not. Luna and her Loyal Band fought fell and uncanny foes; I might well have come to an even worse wyrd in My Lady's service. Still, I would have died fighting for the Realm, against the foes of all Ponykind, instead of ... Ah well! At least I have remained on Earth nine centuries past my time, and have witnessed wonders of which I scarce dreamt in my breathing days. And I have met many strange and interesting Ponies, and other people, whom I in other wise could never have known. Cora Highwood, Chiller Tale, Grey Hazelette, Labyrinth Tracer, Aventurine Miter: and so many, many more who have lived and died between the time of my birth and the time of yours. And now ye twain. Truly, I have been fortunate -- and should count my blessings, rather than bewail over my losses. For few Ponies, save for Alicorns and the most powerful wizards, have had the privilege of seeing so great a stretch of time as I have watched pass by me, from here in Sunney Towne! So we went forth, Roneo and I, and I bade him retrace the steps he had taken that morning. For, while I am very, very good at finding things, at that point I had not yet come into mine own full Talent, and it is in any case much easier even for me to find something if I have some idea where to start the search. Roneo's way wound into the mazy paths Three Leaf had lain down on the outskirts of the village, the better to confuse bandits. There he had ventured, early in the morning, in search of deadwood with which to feed the fires of our festival. Many sources of deadwood existed there, and Three Leaf had by her lifeweaving already caused several large deadfalls, in preparation for the party and our other purposes. She brought the wood down, but 'twas Roneo's task to follow along at a later time with hatchet and cart, trimming and loading and hauling it back to Sunney Towne. I had seen that sort of work done before, tagging along after Ravenwood when he had been the one to pull the cart and do the heavy work, and I had helped with the lighter parts, breaking off and bundling the smaller branches. I had been so happy to help Ravenwood, back then in more innocent times when I had been small. Back before I had met Princess Luna. Back before the Mark-Pox. Back before my father had started to go mad. Ravenwood had stopped bringing me along with him when he went off into the woods, and this had hurt, for I thought he spurned me. But now I knew why. I had started to become a mare in body -- but not yet heart -- and because he had cared for me, he had not wanted to mar mine own good name. He had not been rejecting me at all, and only now -- when it was too late, even later than I realized -- did I ken this. Now, I was helping my sister's love Roneo -- not to collect deadwood, but to find something of far greater import. But mine experience with helping to collect deadwood here bore direct upon this greater problem for one big reason. Having helped Ravenwood perform the same task, I remembered how his chest and sides would scrape against the fallen wood and the surrounding brush. It was dirty and at time painful work, for sharp thorns and jutting branches would shift and scrape his handsome coat, even inflicting small cuts upon him. Ravenwood made light of this, but I winced for his hurts. And so I remembered them. And I could see quite plain how Roneo must have lost his ruby. Pushing off the path into the woods, Roneo would have scraped the thong holding on his little bag, more than once. 'Twas already frayed; thorns might have caught at it, perhaps even torn it direct. At some point, the last strand would have snapped, and the bag dropped free. Most times, Roneo would have felt this happen; this time, he was distracted by the sensation of his other scrapes. Thus, he lost the ruby. Magic? Why Snips, indeed 'twas magic. Talent Magic. And, at times, 'tis much like pathfinding or precognition. As thou shalt see. But most of the time, and almost always when I start searching, I begin just as might thee thine own self. Which is to say that I do think on where the thing is, by thinking on where it was and thus might be, employing the same powers of induction and deduction that are the birthright of all Ponies. And sometimes, if the thing be right hard to find, I am aided by something more than common reason. But I need not and do not turn to blatant magic when the thing be easy to fine. For instance, did Snails lose the bottle of cornwine in this mine own Sanctum, I would first bethink myself on where he walked, and what done there, afore I tried to bring on a vision. Just as thou, Snips, would first make use of thy normal Unicorn magic to cut paper with scissors, afore thou wouldst call upon thy full Talent. All thou canst do is work scissors? Art thou certain? 'Tis rare so simple. Dost thou know any sage wise in the ways of Talents? Ah, well. 'Tis no pressing matter. I must see thee and thy friend safe out of Sunney Towne, and thus be sure thou hast a further life, before I do think on what thou mayest make of it! Fear not, my friends. I have guided others out of such straits afore ye. I am very good at finding things -- including thine own path to safety. In the woods, Roneo retraced his earlier path, and I made a long and weary search. Ravenwood had taught me some tracking, and I could often see Roneo's passage plain, in bent foliage, broken twigs and thorn with tufts of his hair upon them. But I could not see the leathern bag -- nor the ruby it had held. I concealed it from Roneo, but I felt mine own hopes flagging. I feared I would fail to find the ruby, and Starlet's great day would be quite ruined, and she would for ever after hate Roneo for his carelessness, and thus both their lives would be ruined, and it all mine own fault for not being a better finder. I would have let down my half-sister and my friend. Now we approached the end of Roneo's path, somewhere along which he must have dropped the ruby. And still I had seen no sign of it. Hours had we wasted, and all for naught. I had raised Roneo's hopes, and now must dash them. I faced failure. My normal searching skills seemed useless. When I tried to think on where the ruby might have fallen, I was bereft of ideas. I felt ... lost. We reached the end of the path. I looked at Roneo. He looked back at me, the obvious question in his eyes. I almost could not bear the look of hope in those blue eyes. He was three years my senior; he was in love, about to be trothed; compared to him I should have felt a foal. Yet at that moment, he seemed so small and vulnerable. How much he was counting on me! How much I would hurt him if I failed! I could not fail. I must not fail! I felt an immense surge of warmth, and love for him. I have long loved Romeo -- not as a possible mate, but as a brother -- and I have felt that way ever since I knew he really loved Starlet. Yet always he seemed to me as a younger rather than elder brother, something I know but cannot explain. Always, I have wanted to protect and aid him. He was my close kin -- in my heart if not yet in law -- and I owed him the best I could do for him. And Starlet. I owed them my Loyalty. Something began to build within me. It was immensely powerful, surging out from my heart down to my flanks and up to my forehead. I had never felt fully this way before, and it might have frightened me, were it not so beautiful and wonderful. The feeling swelled in and around me. I turned around, looking back on the path Roneo and I had taken. I could see it all; though most should have been hidden from me by the forest. Though something was still obscuring my vision ... "Ruby?" Roneo asked me, his tone plaintive. "Dost thou ken where is my trothing-gift?" His plea did not distract me. Rather, it focused me. Now I knew for what I had been born. "Yes," I replied, for already I could sense the arrival of the vast surge of sensation, even before it formed fully within my mind. "Yes." Now I knew what was blocking my vision. The distraction of ordinary sight. I closed mine eyes. I could see Roneo's path, sharper and more perfect than ever I had seen anything with common sight. It was glowing, and hung suspended almost in a void, surrounded by the skeletal, shadowy outlines of the landscape, which did not block its radiance. The vision was sharp, but some of the details of the path were fuzzy. I focused my vision still further, in some manner I cannot easily describe. And I saw it. I saw several glowing points, each of them a possible place where Roneo might have lost the ruby; and as I peered ever deeper, taking into account terrain and our previous search, all but one of the points dimmed, while that one remaining point shone bright and clear. I saw the gem. I opened mine eyes. The complex glowing network faded from mine awareness, but now I knew where the ruby must be. "That way," I told Roneo, and glancing at him briefly noted that he was gazing at me in a sort of frightened awe. I later learned why. But I did not spare the time to reflect on this back then, for in me was the urge to complete my Finding. I galloped back down the path, fast as I could manage without risking a fall. And as I did, within me rose an exultant song, for the cause that for the first time in my life, I knew that I was a Finder, that this was what I was meant to be and what I would do from now on for mine own self and my Lady and my friends and for all Ponykind. My flanks tingled, a warm and good and right feeling; had I been less drunk with joy I would have instantly known what was happening. But then that is the way of a Mark-Winning: she who wins it is often so lost in the moment that there is no self apart from the Marking; there is only a wholeness, an ecstasy of a sort that Ponies rarely know, save perhaps in passionate love. I slowed my pace as I neared the deadwood tangle wherein I believed Roneo had dropped the gem, for here the brush closed in and the way was narrow, and a careless Pony might break a leg if she ran. As I worked my way deeper into the tangle, clambering over or ducking under the fallen timber, I could hear Roneo following after, his slightly larger and bulkier body having more difficulty in this errand than mine own. 'Twas not long before I spotted, fallen at the foot of a particularly-wicked mass of sharp protruding wooden spurs, a familiar-looking little leathern purse. I scooped it up, and examined its condition. The carry-thong was worn, and torn right through; almost certainly by Roneo's scraping it against sharp snags. This break had loosened the tension on the draw-string that kept it closed. It was evident from its light heft that it no longer contained its gem, though a few coins still clinked together within. This was exactly as I expected from my vision, for I had not seen the ruby so close to the path. Iwas remarkable calm as I held the purse: such was my faith in mine own newfound Talent. "Here, catch!" I cried, tossing the purse back to my friend. "Thou shouldst be more careful with thy purse in the future!" 'Twas both comical and sad to see Roneo's reactions as he caught his purse, and examined it in turn. His face flashed from surprised to happy to puzzled to woeful, as he realized 'twas indeed his purse, but lacking the ruby which had been its most precious content. When I saw how forlorn he became with this knowledge, I resolved to never again play such a mean trick upon him. Of course that was but a flash of thought: the thrill of my quest, and of my new-found Talent singing within me drove me on. The ruby flared as bright as a full moon in my mind's eye; I knew exactly where it was even before my hoof brushed aside the concealing leaves, that had hidden it from more mundane sight. I raised the prize high in my right hoof, feeling its weight in my frog, marveling at its gleaming beauty. The ruby was something to behold, as the Sun struck a red radiance from its crystalline structure. 'Twas the last time ever I would gaze upon that gem by true daylight; 'tis a sight I do sore miss now, when I think on it. For a moment I felt as if I had won a great treasure for myself, and I understood the lust for booty that drives bad Ponies to become brigands, though to this day I cannot ken why they would want to hurt little fillies. Finding treasure is a great joy for me, and I can grasp greed; cruelty makes to me very little sense. I had a short fantasy of running off with the ruby and becoming a brilliant thief. Then both morality and reality returned to me, and I smiled at my own silliness. Grinning happily, I passed the ruby to Roneo, and the joy with which he greeted my find was worth more to me than all the treasure in the world. "My ruby!" exclaimed Roneo, gazing upon it happily, then putting it away in his bags. "Thou hast found it truly! Thankee, Ruby! O, thankee!" He cut a little caper, bounding about in celebration. Then he looked at me, eyes widening in surprise. "Thy flank ..."he said. "Eh?" I asked, confused. "Thou hast a Mark ..." said Roneo, and he backed away, his face pale with fear. I looked at my flank. For the first time ever, I beheld the magnifying glass that ye may see upon my flank today. "Why, so I do!" I exclaimed in delight, looking back up. And Roneo bolted, galloping back toward the village. I gazed after his vanishing rump, puzzled at his curious behavior. I have, over the thousand and five years since then, more than once berated myself for mine own stupidity. I had, after all, grown up in Sunney Towne, where being Blank was normal, being Marked exceptional. I was myself the daughter of two Blank parents, and had spent my whole life up to this moment assuming that I would myself stay Blank forever. I thought I knew why Roneo was surprised to see that I had won a Mark; among Blanks, the Talent is realized but does not manifest in a Mark. I knew that the vision of paths of light and the glowing ruby had been my moment of Talent finding; but I was surprised myself to see a visible Mark appear upon my flanks in consequence. I was Marked! It was a gladsome surprise. Though my status would have been well secure as an officer of the Night Watch and boon companion of Princess Luna, some might still have seen me as unnatural, as some sort of eternal filly, as I grew completely to marehood blank-flanked. Now, this would not happen. I would have a Mark, like most Ponies. So Roneo's surprise was understandable. What was harder to ken was why he had been so afraid. He had gone from rapturous joy at regaining his ruby, to headlong flight from one he had known all his life, and known as a friend for many years of it. Why was he so terrified of my Mark? I thought on this a bit but could come to no firm conclusion. I could only think that he was spooked by the sudden and dramatic manner of its appearance, though -- based on my limited knowledge of Mark-findings, was that not always the way of them? Still, Roneo knew even less about Marks than did I -- as I had spent much time recently among the Marked, while Roneo had only ventured among them for a few days to take the trip to Pie-Towne. He was, compared to me, less experienced in the ways of the wider world. My Lady will be most pleased to see my Mark, I thought to myself, as I ambled down the path back to Sunney Towne. And pleased to learn the nature of my Talent! So passed almost my last breathing moments. At least these were happy ones. I emerged at the gate to Sunney Towne. Almost the whole village was assembled in the square -- occupied, I assumed, with the party preparations. As I walked into the town proper, everypony stared at me, their eyes protruding in evident dread. i noticed an odd thing -- that as I advanced, everypony retreated slightly, so that 'twas as if I were the center of an invisible magical bubble, with none coming close to me. Yet they did not flee. They were clearly afraid of me -- and yet at the same time fascinated. Mystified by this bizarre behavior, I spied the tall form of my father, and made for him. Surely he might explain to me what was happening? As I did I could hear the others whispering and muttering. I could make out bits and pieces of their comments, but at the time the only thing I could hear clearly was "The Mark," uttered in tones of dread. I have made this last walk of my life, every day, for the last thousand and five years. I have since then managed to make out every single word that every one of them said within mine hearing. And, had I, that first time, been able to do so, I might have fled Sunney Towne. 'Twould have worked. They were one and all terrified at the notion of physical contact with me. As only made sense, given what dread contagion they imagined I bore. They would have bolted, and a clear path made for me to the gates. Once on the road, none would have pursued. The bravest of them loved me and did not really want to harm me. The only one who hated me was an arrant coward, and in any case just wanted me to forever leave the town. I did not flee. They were mine own kin; this mine own home, where I had grown from foal to filly to young mare. I was in what I thought to be the safest place in all the world for me. Instead, I walked, fearlessly that first time, right up to Grey Hoof. Why not? For what cause should I have been afraid of mine own father, he who had been for mine whole life my beloved protector? And so did I squander my last chance at life. Grey Hoof stood there. Gladstone stood a little back from him on his right side, but close enough that he might speak and Father might hear him. Behind them I could see Three Leaf's dark-green mane, not tangled as usual, but garlanded with flowers for the coming party. Roneo and Starlet stood off to one side, holding one another, in what seemed like a need for mutual affection. Starlet was crying. My mother was not in sight. My father's face was drawn with the same strange dread that had infected all the others, but also a certain grief and resolution. It was the expression of a stallion who was screwing up his courage to do something that he both feared and regretted ... and it should have warned me, had I not so trusted him. Though had I realized what was about to happen, it might have been too late now. For I stood within his reach -- and Grey Hoof is very fast for such a big stallion. "The Mark!" gasped my father in horror. "I had hoped 'twas not ..." "'Tis the Pox!" hissed Gladstone. "Quick, or we are all dead! Strike swiftly!" "The Pox ...?" I began to say, turning toward Gladstone ... and thus making the exact same mistake that the peddler stallion had made a week ago, on that fatal patrol. And with the same consequence. I have since seen this play out many, many times over the last millennium and five years, but that first time it all happened dreadful fast. Something -- which I later knew to be my father's forehoof, lashed out very fast and struck the right side of my head an immensely powerful blow. Time seemed to skip, and the next moment I lay on my side on the ground of the village square, everypony looming over me. My mother, who must have come up at the last moment, was screaming. My head hurt a lot; my vision was blurry; when I tried to speak, the bones of my skull and jaw moved wrongly, and red pain flared at the motion. "The Pox?" I said mushily, finally grasping the cause of their fear. "Nay, Father ..." I was later told that my words were incomprehensible, which does but make sense, spoken as they were with a damaged skull and broken jaw and missing teeth. Really, it is remarkable that I was able to speak at all. "'Tis no mercy to leave her like this," said Gladstone, "and she is still a threat! Finish her!" I caught a brief glimpse of my father's face, distorted by his inner pain, tears flowing freely down both cheeks. I wanted to let him know the dreadful and irreparable mistake he was making, before he made it. Then his hoof descended on me; there was a terrible crunching noise, and I knew no more in my mortal life.