//------------------------------// // Chapter 3 // Story: An Eastern Equestrian Hearth's Warming // by Elkia Deerling //------------------------------// CHAPTER THREE The next day, Rivet Punch appeared early at the door of Carbide Lamplight’s house. Behind him, he dragged a giant cart filled with buckets, bags, crates and anything else that could be used to put gold nuggets in. He beamed with excitement, ready to whisk away all of his friend’s financial worries—and his own, of course.         Rivet knocked on the door again, and placed his ear against the wood. He could hear shuffling, the rumble of rocks and cursing. Yep, he’s definitely awake.         “Rivsky, is that you?” the voice came from behind the door.         “Yes.”         “Good. Give me a moment to collect some mining equipment, ok?”         “Ok,” Rivet answered, silently wondering how in Equestria Carbide Lamplight had been able to remember that after so much vodka. He had to assume it was just part of being an experienced drinker.         Carbide Lamplight didn’t open the front door, and Rivet couldn’t hear anymore sounds. He shrugged, and reckoned Carbide would come from the back. Rivet Punch unlaced his cart and walked to the side of the house, where a big, iron fence separated the front yard from the back—if you could call the gravel-strewn path that. From straight up front, it looked impenetrable; a solid, steel ribbon cutting through the gravel. But Rivet knew the secret: there was a notch with a small lever just some hoofsteps away, right above a little rust stain. He felt for the lever—almost getting his hoof stuck in the hole—and smiled when he heard the familiar click.         “Good day, comrade. Thank you for opening the gate!” Carbide said, hastily trotting over towards Rivet and the door, pulling a metal cart much too big and too heavy for him. “Let’s go.”         “You need any help with that?” Rivet asked, pointing at the monstrosity his friend was pulling with visible effort.         “No, no, no, I’m fine. Pojdjom!”         “Ok,” Rivet said, as Carbide shot past him and closed the heavy gate. It let out a high screech, and the two ponies both flinched, trying their best to hide their headaches. Spoils of a night well spent.                                                          * *                                                         The day was bright and fresh; the sun glittering above through thin wisps of cloud and the green roof. Rivet took a deep breath; the air smelled of pine-needles, resin and—at least to him—promise. Looking ahead he saw the red stones, shining bright and cheerful in front of his eyes like red rubies decorating a luxurious white tablecloth. Imagine if they were rubies…         Everything seemed normal and natural. There was no mist floating above the ground, and when Rivet had looked behind him a number of times, he had seen two wagon-trails and two pair of hoofsteps—as there should be.         “So where are we going again?” Carbide asked, interrupting his friend’s thoughts.         “I haven’t told you yet. It is a surprise, remember?”         Carbide put on a serious face. “Oh, then very soon you will have to pull both wagons…”         “Why?”         “Because I will have died from curiosity!”         Rivet grinned. If he’d been drunk, it would have been a roaring laugh; but for now, just a grin.         Around the two marching ponies, the forest beamed with life. There were squirrels skittering through the trees, trying their best to gather as many acorns as possible and hide them from rivals. There was the signature rattle of woodpeckers echoing through the leaves, accompanied by the cry of an eagle. Rivet’s head shot up, but he couldn’t pinpoint its source.         They toiled through the snow together for a long time; their loads growing increasingly heavy as they progressed. Carbide was panting hard. His wagon was made out of an old mine-cart: sturdy and heavy-duty, but weighing a ton. It rattled along noisily, loaded with pickaxes, helmets, ropes, chisels, spades, and much other mining equipment. Sweat ran down Carbide’s face and his legs trembled as they began to give up on the task. Trying to chase away the tiredness, Carbide decided to start another conversation; maybe he could even get some answers, he thought.         “Say, Rivsky,” Carbide began, and smiled at his friend, “I think I know what you have for me.”         Rivet’s head spun in the direction of Carbide, eyes wide. “W-w-what? Y-you do?!”          Carbide grinned. “Well… you asked for mining equipment, right? So I figure you found a—“         “Say, Carby, why are we never going into your mine again?” Rivet quickly cut in; he knew what his friend was going to say next, but surprises were sacred.         “Eh…” Carbide’s eyes darted into the sky. “Well…”         “Don’t you remember how much fun we used to have in your mine? I loved our long underground hikes through those dark shafts,” Rivet said, glad he had steered the conversation away from his surprise, but at the same time towards a mine as well.         A faint smile curled Carbide’s lips. “Yes, those were the days. I can’t remember how many questions you asked during our walks.”         “Well, you were the one who had to use so many words I didn’t know.”         “Like auxiliary operations?”         “Yes! Like that!”         “Want to know what it means?”         “Of course.”         “It’s stuff that supports mining operations, but which doesn’t have a direct connection with it. “         “Ah,” Rivet said, “like our underground hikes?”         Carbide grinned. “Something like that, yes.”         In the silence that followed, Rivet’s thoughts dipped underground to the tunnels he so loved to enter together with Carbide Lamplight, the enormous gravel pit, the endless mineshafts starting from it, the rusty elevator of which Rivet always wondered whether the thing would collapse in mid-ride—although Carbide had always claimed that it wouldn’t—,the tunnels, lit by a thousand carbide lamps, flashing in front of Rivet’s eyes, while the echoing voice of his friend filled his ears.         “Do you remember it as well?” Rivet said.         “Yes, of course,” Carbide answered.         “Do you recall the last time we went in there?”         “Eh…” Carbide frowned. “I don’t think so. Do you?”         “No,” Rivet said; he didn’t need to think. “But it was a nice playground, wasn’t it?”         “That it was, Rivsky.”         They spoke no more, not even about mines. Both Rivet and Carbide turned to themselves, sweating and concentrating on their loads and the way ahead, although it was marked clearly.         As they marched on, the terrain changed, the hills appeared, and Rivet Punch knew they were nearing their destination. The distance between the red stones grew bigger, and Rivet could hear a few magpies through the rattle of the carts. Growing from their left, the hills looked much less dark or intimidating; more like a friendly change of surroundings. Suddenly, Rivet spotted what he’d been looking for: the steep hill, the mountain, and the ridge.         Rivet stopped. “Here it is.”         Thank Celestia, Carbide thought, but then he looked around. “Here’s what?”         “Well, not exactly here, on that ridge over there!” Rivet pointed upward.         You have to be kidding me! Carbide looked at his friend, but the frown which had appeared on his face disappeared upon seeing Rivet’s expression: filled with a childish anticipation, as if somepony was about to give him a beautiful Hearth’s Warming present. Carbide sighed. “Alright, let’s do this.”         Struggling and cursing, Carbide made it to the top at last, looking ahead at his friend, whose expression hadn’t changed over the challenging climb. He stopped on the rim of the ridge and looked to his right, taking off his hardhat and wiping the sweat off his forehead. To his right, the forest stretched out far and wide. Surrounding the mountain was a small clearing, but beyond that, the forest continued and the trees seemed taller the farther he gazed. The green roof looked lighter now that he was closer to the sun—and the forest seemed to pulse with color. A sudden jolt startled him, and he looked up to see Rivet shaking him and jumping up and down in excitement. ”Come on, Carby! We’re almost there!”          Carbide couldn’t help but smile at his big red friend, giggling with joy. “Ok, ok, don’t push me off the ridge please,” he said while unlacing the straps of his harness. “Otherwise we would have made the journey for nothing.”         Calmly he followed towards the wall of the mountain and into its shadow. Suddenly he saw Rivet’s yellow tail disappear into it, and he quickened his pace to find him. At first he ran to the end of the ridge, looking down into an abyss and wondering if Rivet Punch had jumped on some sort of secret ledge. When he couldn’t spot any red amidst the black rock, Carbide returned and began inspecting the wall carefully. “Rivsky, where are you?” he called out.         “Here, stupid!” an echoing voice returned from within the mountain.         Carbide stepped further to the left, staring intently at the wall of rock right in front of his nose. Suddenly the wall opened inward, and he looked into the blackness. Only the entrance to the cave was lit by the sun, floating directly above; the rest was a void. A strange clinking sound came from inside, like the scuttling of bugs. “Rivsky, are you—“         But his words fell into oblivion when a warm glare burst in the middle of the cave and bounced from wall to wall a million times, reflected over and over again. The glittering gold looked even more impressive and valuable in the warm lamplight than it had done in the cold, silvery moonlight. It glittered and shimmered all around, reflecting even in Carbide Lamplight’s eyes.         “Surprise!” a laughing Rivet called out, holding an oil lamp between his hooves.         Carbide Lamplight stood in the cave entrance. He was unable to move, and his mouth hung open. He felt a shiver go through his entire body, like a dip in a cold river. But now it filled him with exciting warmth instead of biting cold. He grinned. The grin grew to a smile. Then a chuckle. Then a full-blown laugh growing louder and louder and echoing through the cave. He started shaking on his hooves and fell to his knees. Tears filled the corners of his eyes and he cried hard, his mining helmet falling to the ground.         Rivet quickly put the lamp down and rushed over to his friend. “Are you alright, Carby? You shouldn’t be sad. It’s really gold; I’m not trying to fool you. You know I never do that.”         Carbide Lamplight brushed Rivet’s hoof off his shoulders. “I’m not sad, Rivet,” he whispered, “I’m set… for life.”         Rivet Punch was just about to ask his friend what that meant, when Carbide jumped up like a spring. He zipped through the cave, moving and looking from wall to wall like all of them looked out on a beautiful theater play of which he didn’t want to miss anything. Carbide cackled, jumped up, and clung to a big nugget embedded in the rocky roof. “GOLD!” he yelled. “GOLD, GOLD, GOLD!” Every time he said that magical word, the crazed miner kissed the yellow mineral as if it were his long-forgotten special somepony.         “Eh… are you ok, Carby?” Rivet said again, trying his best to not be distracted by the glimmering riches around him.         But Carbide Lamplight didn’t hear him, and dropped down to the ground. “Gold! I cannot believe it! How much is there?” He ran off into the darkness left behind by the lamp, deeper into the cave.         Rivet heard his hoofsteps disappear into the gloom at full speed. “Carbide, be careful! The cave is not—“         A loud, crunchy clunk echoed back to him.         “—that deep.”         Carbide staggered back into the light, still bearing his smile, but a tooth less than before.         “Let’s set up some lamps, Carby, so we can see what we’re doing,” Rivet proposed.         “Yes,” was the only thing Carbide could answer, and walked outside towards his cart, hesitant to leave the gold-filled cave.         He came back with a dozen of carbide lampposts, hovering in a shaky, magical haze, shuddering with excitement. Within minutes the cave was illuminated by the cold light, and Carbide Lamplight feasted his eyes on all the gold he could see. “Part of me expected to see something like this,” he whispered, “but never like this!”                  Rivet Punch moved next to him and followed his friend’s gaze over all the sparkles in the wall. “It is something, isn’t it?”         “Something?!” Carbide said with a sudden burst. “This is everything! We can do whatever we want now!”         “Yes,” Rivet said vaguely. An image started to form inside his head as he fantasized about everything the riches from the gold would permit him to do—and so did Carbide.         With a jerk, Carbide Lamplight turned to Rivet. “We can do whatever we want now!” he repeated, looking his friend straight in the eyes. “With my share, I can buy an enormous estate in Canterlot, and… and travel there first class! I could leave that stupid, frozen village and live amongst the elite.” He raised his head in the air and closed his eyes like he was a rich industrialist, content with his achievements. “We both can!”         “Why would you want that?” Rivet asked.         Carbide twitched and opened his eyes, then he grabbed his friend by the shoulders. “Why would I want that?!” he repeated, “because I can go somewhere better and live a happy rich life— that’s why!”         Still Rivet Punch looked at him with doubtful eyes. “But I am happy already. Here, in the village.”         Now Carbide was the one who looked confused. “What? How can you be happy with that?” The disgust in his last word was audible.         Rivet frowned in thought. “Because… I think I have everything I want here. I have a place to live; not too big, not too small. I have a family and friends.” His frown vanished. “I have you.”         “You can take everything and everypony with you!” Carbide said with a wide smile, shaking Rivet’s shoulders a little. “Well, not all of your town friends, but I mean Camomila Blossom and your children and all your stuff. Hay, I bet the moving company will even load your little house on the train cart, if you pay the carriers enough.”         “Really?”         “Yes!”         “Wow.”         “And what about your family? You love them so much, right? You can share your happiness and your riches with them, of course.” Carbide dug in his mind for the names of Rivet’s children, but couldn’t remember them. “Your oldest daughter, she likes to bake, right?”         “Da.”         “You can send her to the best bakery in Canterlot to be taught by a master baker.” Carbide shook his head. “The best bakery in Equestria, I mean.”         “But she likes working with Fabergem really—“         “And what about your youngest?” Carbide continued, when he saw the objection coming, “she plays the balalaika, I remember. Well, you can get her to a great conservatory.” Carbide put up a theatrical thinking face. “I don’t know… what about… Octavia’s school for the musically gifted, founded by the famous balalaika player Octavia Melody herself?”         “Eh… wasn’t Octavia Melody a famous pianist?”         “That’s not the point,” Carbide said hastily. “And think about Camomila Blossom! She never has to work on any farms again. You and Camomila can do other things—fun things! Perhaps find a sport or make romantic journeys together.”         “You know,” Rivet said, “we already do that sometimes. I remember we went on this beautiful walk together. The sun was shining brightly and—“         “No! I don’t mean a walk, I mean a BIG journey! Like… like…” Carbide did his best to recall the farthest, most exotic destination he could think of. “Los Pegasus! Have you ever been to Los Pegasus before? I heard it’s beautiful and colorful and vibrant and… and… much more!“         Rivet put a hoof to his chin. “I don’t know, Carby. It all sounds a little… unnecessary.”         “Unnecessary?!” Carbide let go of the red stallion and stood on his hind legs. He let out a high-pitched snicker. “Don’t you want to have a taste of the GOOD life? The REAL life! The life I’ve only ever read about in magazines and catalogues: eating tasty food every day, wearing fine clothes, and never having to work again!” Carbide waved his hooves in the air. “Never having to work again! Can you imagine that?”         “Then I would be bored,” Rivet said.         “Bored?!” Carbide Lamplight looked almost insulted. “How can you get bored in the most beautiful city in all of Equestria?! Our eyes could feast on the beautiful architecture, the riches surrounding us; drowning in spare time and enjoying only the finest music, theatre and art.”         Rivet stood straight. “Well, I think the most beautiful thing is watching a bright orange sunrise above the roofs and smokestacks of the village—especially if we watch it together, lost in thoughts and dreams.”         “But now we can LIVE our thoughts and dreams!”         “Not my thoughts and dreams.”         “Argh!” Carbide Lamplight exclaimed, as he slumped down on the ground. Somehow, he just couldn’t grasp the mentality of his friend, although he had known him for so long. A little frustration crept up inside him and stung his brain. “Alright,” he said a little harshly, “then what would YOU do with the gold?”         Rivet didn’t have to think about that question, as the answer had immediately popped into his mind the moment he first saw the glittering riches. “Well… It is a lot of gold for just one pony…”         “That’s why we’re sharing it, right? Fifty-fifty.”         Rivet Punch didn’t immediately react to that. Splitting the gold like that was the first thing that came to his mind as well, but then he reckoned he would probably need all of it to execute his grand idea. “I was thinking of giving everypony a merry Hearth’s Warming.”         Carbide’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but quickly caught himself. He didn’t want to look like some greedy or nasty pony in front of his friend. He didn’t want to say how insanely stupid such an idea was. Recomposing, Carbide thought of another question, “But how are you going to do that?”         Rivet Punch frowned; he hadn’t even thought about that. “Eh…” was all he could bring out.         “Yes,” Carbide said in his squeaky voice; this was exactly what he thought. He flashed a thin smile; it seemed he knew the mentality of his friend well enough: ideas, but no plans. “You go ahead and tell everypony about this cave, Rivsky. You do that, and they’ll come running right at it, following the red stones with foam on their mouths. They’ll come here and mine every single gold-crumb away, all the while fighting and arguing amongst themselves.” Carbide flailed his hooves in the air. “Perhaps there will even be WAR! Would you like to be responsible for an all-out civil war?”         “Now stop right there, Carby,” Rivet said with a raised voice. “They aren’t savages! They’re honest ponies just like you and me.”         “Honest?! Honest?!” Carbide let out an irritated laugh. “They may be honest, but they’re stupid enough not to see any dishonesty themselves. They don’t see how the stallions are getting scammed by the steel factory. They don’t see how they do dangerous, back-breaking work, just so Canterlot can construct even higher buildings to house even richer industrialists—factory-owners for Celestia’s sake!” Carbide drew in a large breath; he wasn’t done yet. “And least of all do they see how they get paid only a fraction of all the money which revolves in that million-Bits steel business; barely enough to keep themselves alive.” Carbide was shouting now, and pointed to his friend. “YOU should know that, Rivsky! YOU have a large family to feed! And YOU are the honest finder of this miracle cave!”         Rivet looked in shock at Carbide’s face. There was not much sign left of the funny, venturous pony. Before him stood an angry, shouting stallion. It was like he was on strike for better working conditions; the only thing missing was a sign. Despite the yelling pony in front of him, Rivet kept his calm. He opened his mouth to say something, but then Carbide continued.         “I know you care about everypony, Rivet,” he said with a sigh. Then he looked at the ground. “I know you mean it well, but once you give everypony in the village a gold nugget, and they spend it on something nice, what happens after that?”         “Eh…”         “Things would go back to how they were. Every stallion jobless, and everypony unhappy once again.”                  “Yes, but I can at least try…” Rivet said, although he realized his friend had a point. He too lowered his head in sadness.         Carbide Lamplight flashed a quick glance at his friend with an eye, smiled a split-second, and then closed his eyes as if in pain. “I’m so tired, Rivsky.” His voice wasn’t loud or angry, but creaking, as if a rain of tears would soon flood from the corners of his eyes. “I’m tired of being poor.”         “But, what about your mine?” Rivet asked.         “The mine’s a failure. I’ve dug up nothing but rocks and dirt ever since I put the first shovel in the ground.” Carbide’s ears drooped down. “I need the gold as much as you do.”         Rivet looked up at his friend, his eyes wavering with pity. “Oh, Carby, I never knew. But you always said it—“         “I say so many things!” Carbide suddenly sprung up, tired of this unnecessary conversation. A sudden ferociousness ignited his eyes. “I say so many things and I think so many thoughts. But YOU don’t say enough things; YOU don’t think enough thoughts. I am a thinker and YOU a dumb, simple doer. YOU choose to live in poverty. But I… I see opportunity!” He started walking closer to Rivet.         Rivet did a few steps backward, startled by the sudden change in temperament of his friend. “B-but I see opportunity too. Just… just a different one.”         “That won’t do,” Carbide growled, still advancing with an iron will. “You don’t know how to use riches like these. Leave that to the big thinkers; the ones who don’t ignore chances with their sleepy heads.”          Rivet didn’t know what to say. He felt the cold wall of the cave as he bumped against it. He saw his friend’s horn glimmer above two murderous eyes. He saw the shadows shift. He felt a pain like a lightning bolt in his head. And then he felt nothing anymore.