The flight to Cloudsdale was uneventful. Despite that, I felt a lingering edginess, one that went beyond my usual caution. I supposed the Badlands had left their mark. However, as fearsome as the Badlands are, they’re no match for the scent of Cloudsdale. That euphoric, perpetual spring smell calmed me right down. As much as I love Ponyville, this is something I’ll always miss. I suppose that’s why I never get tired of working weather. Of course, that’s always just a little whiff to tide me over—no other city can replicate the sheer volume of clouds required.
Night was also tense, though I had a suspicion he had things other than wild monsters on his mind. Rather, even if he found clouds as calming as I, it was easily offset by what awaited him within the city.
He led us deep into one of the suburbs, where our flight took us over dozens of identical turquoise roofs. As we descended into his old neighbourhood, it became clear that the roofs weren’t the only things that were all the same. They were all budget houses, though that wasn’t to say they looked bad or even small. No, they were rather sizable and actually looked quite nice, but it was clear that they owed this at least in part to the fact that they were essentially mass manufactured two-story townhouses. If not for numerous signs bearing their owners’ cutie marks, I’d have questioned how anyone ever figured out how to get home after work.
We only had to walk a few feet before I spotted Noble Light’s radiant shield. Beside it was a blue star, shining a searchlight down until it hit some imaginary surface. Night stopped just shy of the walkway, his eyes boring a hole through the fluffy, violet door, then the sign.
He turned to me. “Y-you don’t have to go through with this if you don’t want to. I’m asking too much of you.”
I leaned over and nudged at his chin. I’d have been very surprised if he wasn’t already thinking of at least a dozen ways this could go wrong. “You’re not. We’re not taking on a bunch of Everfree monsters, it’s your family.”
“I don’t know... it…” Night shrunk back, “...it looks like home, but it just... it doesn't feel like it anymore. She doesn’t want to see me again, not after I ran like I did.”
With another nudge, I shook my head. “You’ll be fine, Night. Just relax. Remember how happy Mint and your dad were? This will be the same.”
He nodded slowly, taking a deep breath before turning back to the door. Hoof shaking, he knocked once. The door flew open. Standing in the doorway was a mare whose turquoise coat was just a little bolder than the houses. Wavy purple hair framed tearful ruby eyes as they stared out at Night.
There was that awkward five or so seconds where neither seemed to know what to say. Night’s eyes mirrored the mare’s as he choked out, “I... M-Mom…”
Night’s mom darted forward, wrapping him in her wings like he was still a foal. “Shhh, it’s alright, Night Light.”
He leaned into the hug, resting his head under hers. “I... I missed you so much.”
“I know. I missed you too.” She smiled as she nodded. “You were so close in Ponyville, yet so far away. But it's okay now. You're back.”
Confusion spread over Night’s face and he sniffed as he looked up. “You... you knew I was in Ponyville?”
She pulled him close again. “Of course I knew. You were lost. But I knew you didn’t want to be found. It hurt my heart, but I knew it’d only force you further away if we reached out. You had to come home on your own.”
Even after all this time, it seemed she knew her son quite well, allaying fears before the questions could even leave his mouth. I supposed, given Noble’s profession and that she knew where Night was, she had to have known more than was readily apparent. I couldn’t help but raise a bit of an eyebrow. At the same time, who could really blame a loving mother for finding a way to check in on her son? In the very least, I had to admire how much she was willing to respect his space.
“I'm sorry, Mom. I'm so sorry,” Night sobbed.
“Shh, it’s alright. Come inside and let’s catch up.” As she released Night, she looked up at me. “And of course you’re welcome too, Ms. Down. I’m Guiding Light. I’d been hoping I'd get a chance to meet you.”
I nodded. “I’m glad to finally meet you as well.”
As Guiding Light stepped back, I slid up beside Night and stole a peck. “I told you it’d be fine.”
He nodded, his grin a little sheepish. “You did. Thank you.”
The entrance was part of a short hallway, with the only thing to keep it company being a wooden end table sporting a soft purple vase. A door on the immediate left led off into what looked like a living room. The right was blocked off by a closed door and, finally, the end opened up into the kitchen. From there, Noble Light emerged.
He grinned. “Night, Dusky. I’m happy to see you both again, and in much more pleasant circumstances. I have to assume this isn’t just a social call?”
Shrinking down a bit, Night traced a few misshapen circles along the floor before he found his words. “Well, not exactly... I mean, I agreed to ask your advice on something for a friend, and I also want your help on something else, if you can. Beyond that... I just, I wanted to come home.”
Noble let out a fatherly chuckle. “I think I understand, Night. We can get to business, but I hope you'll stay for dinner first. We have a nearly full house tonight, but always room for two more.”
Night perked up, long-lost memories from his foalhood awakening. “Mom’s been cooking?”
I couldn’t help but smirk. “That sounds like a yes to me.”
By now, Night had reached a level of giddiness for food I only thought possible on the Pinkie Pie spectrum. “Oh, um, well, yes, then!”
“Of course you will. I should get things ready.” Guiding Light planted a kiss on Night’s forehead before departing.
“Excellent. Then let's go relax and catch up, shall we?” Noble’s grin broadened, though the next thing he said almost seemed to be directed entirely at me. “Guiding has asked me to stay out of the kitchen today. She may have her hooves full, but she says in the kitchen I do more harm than good. Besides, somepony has to keep an eye on all you kids.”
It was a little bit hard to picture at first, since my mom and dad were both pretty adept at cooking, but then I thought back to the first time I’d tried to ‘help’ out. In my defense, an overenthusiastic, little filly is almost invariably going to have a skewed sense of measurement when it comes to sugar.
He turned off into the left doorway and sure enough, it was indeed the living room. It was a pretty standard layout for living rooms, with a large window looking out onto the street and a cloud couch against the far wall. There were also a few fabric chairs in a semicircle facing the couch that were clearly out of place—no doubt they’d been brought in to accommodate the Lights’ full house. Against the closest wall was a set of stairs, a trail of toys starting from the floor and ascending until I lost sight at the top.
All along the walls—especially on the stairs’ side—were frames, mostly containing photos, although there were more than a few newspaper clippings. While I’d seen people frame things like this, the sheer volume was more than enough to pique my curiosity. However, I didn’t have time to pay them much mind as an aquamarine hoof waved from the couch.
“The prodigal son returns. And here I thought we’d finally scared him off for good.” The mare was sprawled all over the couch in a way that couldn’t be good for her posture. Her eyes were shadowed by her messy, blue-ish grey and red forelock, though the mischievous grin told me all I needed to know.
Another mare, this one yellow, with a long orange mane that was roughly kept in check by a red bandana, traced the trail of toys with her piercing green eyes. The smiling sun on her flank matched her own smile, even as her eyes flitted over to her sister. “Well, no thanks to you, Di.”
“Hush, girls. Be nice to your brother,” Guiding Light said as she stepped out from behind the stairs, a bowl tucked under one wing and the other working a spoon. Her sudden appearance threw me off a bit, but I really should’ve been able to guess that there’d be another entrance over there. She continued, “He’s been through a lot and the last thing any of us want is for him to leave again.”
“You two have no idea how much he’s been through.” Mint called from the top of the stairs. She hurried down, giving both Night and I hugs with a fluidity that almost made it one. “So good to see you both.”
I smiled. “And to see you too.”
Night almost seemed overloaded, not quite sure where to look, when he finally snapped to. “Oh, um, introductions! Dusky, the um, one on the couch is Diamond Wing. And she’s Sun Smile. Diamond, Sun, this is Dusky. They’re, um... maybe not quite monsters, but…”
“Monsters?” Diamond Wing was up with a speed that I didn’t think possible from such a contorted start. Regardless, she was now hovering over Night, staring down at him. “Monsters! I’m insulted, Nighty! Come here, I’ll show you a monster!”
Before Night could get out of the way, she tackled him. He squirmed, though there was no escaping such a bear hug. “Monster hug, now come on. Sit. Talk. Tell us all your embarrassing secrets, and we’ll probably tell you all of Spring’s.”
Night rolled his eyes as he made his way to one of the chairs. “Spring has no embarrassing secrets, they’re all very public. Just the other day she was telling me about challenging stallions to a ‘bubble off’.”
I raised an eyebrow, half at the ‘bubble off’ and half at the present situation. In the end, I just found myself giggling. “Well, they seem pretty friendly for monsters, Night.”
Night met my smirk. “Yeah, on the surface, Dusky. Don’t let your guard down.”
“That’s it? Lame,” a colt’s voice echoed from the top of the stairs. He wasn’t quite in view, but I could see a few shadows shifting around.
Another colt cut in. “Lame?! Nah, see, that’s why he’s so cool. You don't even know what he’s capable of.”
“Capable of being totally lame.”
Mint winked before whistling. “Private, front and centre.”
A small, green colt came scrambling down the stairs, engaging in something of a hurried march. When he reached the middle of the room, he gave Mint a salute that was entirely too cute. “Yes, sir, Mom.”
“Mom?” Night looked between the colt and Mint, seemingly unable to comprehend. I supposed it only made sense. He’d been out of touch so long that he must have still thought of his sisters as younger than they were.
Mint simply pointed a wing at Night. “That is your Uncle Night. Keep your wings to your sides. Half speed. Go.”
The colt hit Night’s leg with enough force to stagger him, though I’m sure that, even were he about to fall, the foal wrapped around his foreleg would have kept him anchored. A smile filled his face as he started to understand the full extent of being ‘Uncle Night’. “Oh, uh, hey there. You’re... Mint’s... son?”
“Yessir. Private Custard.” Custard stepped back, his wings buzzing with excitement. “You’re really Uncle Night? I knew it. You’re awesome.”
Night blinked. “I’m... awesome?”
A light red muzzle poked around the banister from near the top of the stairs. “I bet he’s not really a spy. You made that up, Custard. It’s total horse flop.”
“Language, Speed!” Sun Smile hissed. “Where did you learn that?”
Speed’s descent was, ironically, much slower than Custard’s. He stopped to kick one of the toys. “Aunt Spring.”
“Of course.” Sun Smile followed up by muttering something under her breath.
Custard gazed up at Night, giving him an extremely earnest look. “My mom says Aunt Spring is a bad influence, and I shouldn’t say any of the words she teaches me.”
Night smiled, his voice almost drowned out beneath Diamond Wing’s laughter. “Your mom’s pretty smart.”
“Nine, ten, eleven. Eleven ponies.” Guiding Light’s hoof bobbed from just behind the stairs. “Hmph. I should head back to the kitchen. There’s an awful lot that still needs to get ready.”
I thought it a little odd that she needed to do a headcount of her own foals and grandfoals. If anyone should know the number without even thinking, it’d be her. I had to wonder if maybe it was a ‘hint, hint, nudge, nudge’ aimed at her foals, though they all seemed to have their hooves full with the colts’ shenanigans.
Night, especially, just seemed to be getting into the groove. Rather than pull him away, I turned to Guiding Light. “I can help out. Give Night some time to catch up with his siblings and nephews.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose, but if you don’t mind, an extra set of hooves can work miracles in the kitchen.” As Guiding Light motioned toward the back of the stairs, I couldn’t help but be struck by the notion that, between how quickly she’d accepted and the rather overdramaticness of it all, I’d been her target.
I really hoped it wasn’t going to be one of those ‘please give me tons of grandfoals’ talks that I’d always heard about. As much as I liked Night, I wasn’t too crazy on the prospect of foals for a number of reasons—chief among them being the amount of things trying to kill me. However, I was getting ahead of myself when I hadn’t even left the living room. Sneaking in a wave to Night, I followed after Guiding Light.
The kitchen was rather modest in size, though that only served to consolidate the myriad of smells. The strongest was a heart-stopping, alfredo scent emanating from the oven. It was difficult to see, but there looked to be a large casserole dish with cheese layered on top. Perhaps a white, broccoli lasagna. Atop the stove was a shallow frying pan, containing large lumps that looked vaguely like corn cobs and carrots buried beneath a thick, buttery sauce. Finally, Guiding Light’s latest project: a series of peeled sweet potatoes, lay waiting on a cutting board. Given the bowl, I guessed she meant to batter them. I could already feel myself salivating, though with the sheer richness of all the dishes, I had to imagine I wouldn’t need to eat for the next three days.
“Be a dear and slice those for me, please.” Guiding Light motioned to the cutting board.
After rinsing my wings, I set to work. The wingblade was a far cry from the quality of my blade, but expecting such a thing from a kitchen knife was probably unreasonable. Actually, were that the case, I’d probably have been a little freaked out. In any event, since I didn’t have to use my mouth, it made for a breezy and relaxing exercise.
“So, you work weather, right? Is that how you and Night Light met?” she asked as she turned the corn and carrots.
“Sort of. We knew of each other, but he largely kept to himself. It wasn’t until Mahogany brought him to the bar that I really got to know him.”
Guiding Light stopped, turning to look at me. “The bar.”
“I know, right?” I couldn’t help but smirk. “After we’d had a chance to talk, I was as surprised as anyone. Really, were it not for Mahogany, I don’t think any of this would have happened.”
“Mmmm. Mahogany sounds like a good friend.” Scooping up the bowl again, she started battering my slices. “It’s a shame I never got to meet him.”
“With things shaping up the way they are, I’m sure Night could arrange that.” I chose my words carefully. While I’d considered bringing up Mahogany’s family troubles, without Noble present, I saw no real point to the conversation. At best, all it was going to do was incite worry.
“That does sound nice.”
We stood in silence for a few moments, crackling and sizzling filling the air in our stead. At last, she turned to me again. “Do you have any big aspirations?”
“Er, well, one of these years, I want to hike across Neighpon. I’ve been planning it for a long time, but the distance to even get there is rather far and things keep coming up.” I decided it would be best not to mention Ostfriesen and the Badlands, among other things. They were suited to a much more serious sit-down conversation—not that this wasn’t serious to begin with. In fact, I almost felt like I was here for a job interview.
“Anything to do with work? Or future work? Or plans for a family?” Guiding Light spoke as though this was completely casual conversation, battering each slice without missing a beat.
With those questions, especially the one about family, I no longer had any suspicions. This was an interview—a test, even. Oh, Celestia. Don’t tell me what my mom does is normal. Is this the fate of all mothers?
A vision of Terra acting this way sprang to mind such that I couldn’t decide if it was plausible or comically stupid. Shaking my head, I replied, “I can’t say for sure. My life demands that I be rather adaptive. I can’t see myself going for a managerial position. Maybe there’s something big for me in the future, but it’s not like I’m a fortune teller.”
“And family?”
“I… think Night is all I need for now. We’re not really at the point in our relationship where we can seriously think about that.” I smiled. “Sweet and romantic as he is, it’s because of those same traits that we need to be careful not to get too carried away.”
Guiding Light seemed to relax, though to be frank, I was hardly aware she was tense at all. She certainly has a much better Poker face than her son, that’s for sure. “I’m glad to hear that. Night Light has always had a bit of a tendency to get his head stuck in the clouds. It’s nice to see that he’s found somepony who can appreciate it without overindulging it.”
“I try.” I laughed, a bit of my own tension escaping. It seemed I’d passed the test—for now. If Guiding Light was anything like my mom, she’d be back for more.