In the morning, she was up early and crept to the bathroom to wash up. She didn’t turn on the shower to avoid waking anypony else, and snuck downstairs. She had been beaten to the punch, and saw Ma sitting at the table in silence. Ma motioned to the chair next to her and waited for Marble to sit down. She wasn’t going to allow Marble to decline, so Marble took the seat, but she didn’t look Ma in the eye.
There was silence for some time, but Ma broke it soon enough. “You’re scared?”
Marble’s mane drooped in front of her eyes, but she nodded.
“I know that I, too, was afraid of the Pairing Stone when it was my time to go,” Ma said. “I know what it feels like, but I promise that we will find a suitable stallion for you, and you won’t have to worry about him being cruel. Pa and I will not let that happen.”
Marble didn’t say anything. That wasn’t the main concern that she had about having a suitor chosen for her. He could be as nice as could be, but if he didn’t let her work on her art, what would she have? She’d be nothing but an object, living out her life and raising foals, then dying, all without sending her message to Equestria. She wanted to say something, even if it wasn’t with words. A marriage would put all of that on hold. Her parents didn’t think of her art as worthwhile, and she knew that, but it was important to her.
Instead of voicing any of her concerns, or talking to Ma about how her art could pay for itself if she could just leave the farm and find a suitable audience for it, Marble just slowly nodded. She cursed herself for a coward, but she couldn’t bring herself to talk back to her parents. They only wanted what was best for her.
“Good. Now I need you to pick a day within the next week to go see the Pairing Stone. I won’t accept a no, you must pick a day,” Ma said.
Marble just drooped in defeat. She wasn’t going to get out of this. She could delay it, though. It was Monday, so the latest possible day would be on the weekend, Sunday. “Sunday.”
Ma just gave a small smile. “Delaying it only makes it that much worse, but that is acceptable. This is a big step, and I nor your father will bring it up again until then, okay?”
Marble nodded.
“Now go on. Get something to eat, and you can have the day to yourself. Nopony will bother you until lunch if you want to work on your carvings.”
Marble gave Ma a relieved smile and grabbed some vegetables from the fridge, then disappeared into the room Pa had built for her carving. Despite his insistence that it wasn’t a viable job, he had encouraged her to do it. ‘Good for the soul,’ he had said. He had built an addition on the house where Marble could keep stones of various shapes and sizes along with all her specialized tools, all so she could carve.
Marble stared at the blocks sitting on the shelves, then at her tools. She picked up a chisel and hefted it in her hoof. The farm itself had an abundance of granite, so her tools were top quality to sculpt the hard stone. Still, she had worked hard to help Pa to coax him into ordering stone they didn’t have. Alabaster, soapstone, limestone, and yes, even marble. All this stone he’d gotten her, encouraged her, and now he was just treating it like it was some toy she had to throw away! She liked sculpting and carving very much, and she refused to give it up so easily!
Marble chose a sizable block of granite, picked her mallet up in her teeth and began furiously chipping away at the stone. Her mallet struck the chisel with hard, practiced swings, and flakes of granite fell to the floor. The block slowly lost its previous shape, and it began to take on a new life, the imagined form it would become being pulled out of it by Marble’s skill.
Hours passed, and Ma came to her door and called her to lunch. Marble didn’t respond, but struck her chisel harder, hoping the sound would drown out her mother. It didn’t, but Ma took the hint eventually and left her alone. She heard the door open then close, and spared a look to see a plate of food had been placed on the floor for her. She ignored it for a while, but her stomach convinced her that eating would allow her to work unhindered.
She stopped to eat, and had a little bit of time to then look at what she had been making. It looked like a pony with two heads, though the heads were the only part that looked somewhat complete. One head was looking to the left, and the other to the right, and they both had different expressions. Neither head looked happy. Marble frowned at the sculpture, and ate her food in silence.
After she was done eating, Marble picked up her hammer and chisel and walked back to the sculpture. She looked at it long and hard, then whined in frustration. She threw her chisel across the room and stamped her hooves in anger. She screamed through clenched teeth and pulled out another block of stone. She picked up a new chisel and began carving something else. She continued until it was suppertime, and she yet again ignored the calls to come to dinner. Ma slipped that plate in as well, leaving Marble to work through her emotions.
It was late when Marble finally left her workshop. The floor was covered in bits of stone and dust filled the air. She left the windows open to air out the room overnight, and slipped into the house proper. She crept upstairs and into the bathroom to clean herself up. Dust caked her mane and tail, and her hooves were scraped all over from her careless hammering. She’d never cared about her appearance much, but Ma would chastise her for being so rough with her work. She’d get an earful Sunday when it came time to visit the Pairing Stone for certain.
She showered and slipped into her room as silently as she could, careful not to wake anypony else. She tip-hoofed across her bedroom floor, but kicked something as she worked her way through the darkness. She bent down to pick it up, to find the small carving of the flower she had made yesterday. She felt it with her hooves, touching it in its unfinished state to feel the smooth stone she had only begun to polish. It made her smile, and she realized she had forgotten to go see if it was okay today. It was such a fragile and contradictory thing, she wondered if it had survived.
Marble held the sculpture for a little bit longer, then lit a candle in her room to get a better look. She looked at the rough flower for a while, then looked down at the floor and her saddlebags, with their contents strewn about on the floor. She packed them back up, and put the flower inside the bags with them, then hung the bags on her door handle. Ma said she could do what she wanted this week, so she was going to go see that little flower tomorrow. It gave her a warm sense of peace that she desperately needed right now.
The next morning was quiet. Neither Pa nor Ma said anything to her about her marriage. Pa didn’t even accept the date of Sunday for going to the Pairing Stone. Marble figured she had Ma to thank for that.
She finished her breakfast quickly and quietly while Limestone and Pa discussed business on the rock farm, then Marble disappeared with her saddlebags out onto the farm. Nopony said anything to her, and nopony asked where she was going. It was a relief.
The tunnel was aglow with soft light when she arrived, and the sight that greeted her was beyond what she had expected: The little flower from two days ago had blossomed, and the small candle-like flame had bloomed into a full orb of light. The plant was still no taller than her shins, but this single flower was unique.
There were now eight petals cradling the little ball of light, and one half-formed one tucked underneath the others. The ball of flame itself looked to be a full sphere, but she couldn’t tell if it was still floating just above the leaves or if it was attached to them, the curling petals obscured half of the sphere, and she couldn’t get as close to it as before, due to the uncomfortable heat. Despite the heat, though, it didn’t give off a lot of light. The orb was filled with reds and oranges, with some darker spots swirling across its surface.
Marble looked away and blinked rapidly to clear her eyes. It was beautiful, but it was still fire, and looking at it for too long gave her afterimages in her vision. She wondered if this was as much as it was going to grow, or if it might get bigger? Would it have seeds? Seeds like the one that landed in front of her a few days ago? That might get dangerous if so, she didn’t want more seeds floating away.
No matter how the seeds appeared, if they even would, her sculpture of the flower was now sorely inaccurate. She could remember what it looked like, but without the life-accurate appearance to work with, her sculpture was going to suffer for it. She needed to be sure not to miss a single day of the life-cycle of the flower past the one she already had.
Marble set down her saddlebags and opened them up. She drew out her smaller set of tools and the older model of the flower. She held her sculpture up next to the real one for comparison. There was logical progression in the life cycle, but she wondered where the extra petals came from. The stunted one underneath might grow into a full one, that could be it.
No matter what, Marble was intent on capturing the unique beauty of the flower before it wilted or changed again. She had all day to do it, and she brought snacks. She could stay out here as long as necessary.
She got to work completing the one she had started two days ago. There was the intermediate period she had missed, so she had to finish that quickly. It didn’t take her much more than an hour or so to get that done, though she wasn’t pleased with it. It was rough, and didn’t capture the look of the flower she remembered. Still, it was better than nothing.
For the flower’s current appearance, she chose a small block of sandstone to try to match the colour. It wasn’t close at all, but she didn’t have anything better. It was at least a warmer colour. She started shaping the edges, seeing in her mind’s eye where it was going to take shape. It would never stand under its own weight, she’d need a display mount for it, but she knew how to make it look correct.
Marble worked through the day, and with all the time she took she finished drawing the shape of the flower from the stone. It still needed to be smoothed and polished, but the outline was done. She’d taken a lot of time to make sure it was accurate, and it showed. She hoped her family would feel the same way when she showed it to them.
There was a spring in her step as she made her way home, her smile widened every time she thought about the carefully packed sculpture in her bag as she approached the farmhouse. The closer she got, however, the less bouncy she felt, and the more she dreaded entering.
Her fears were confirmed when she stepped inside and Pa looked up at her from his seat at the dinner table. “Were you off sculpting all day?”
She nodded.
“Well, render it from your system while you have this opportunity. Once we locate for you a good stallion, you shall be busy for the foreseeable future.”
Marble’s enthusiasm for sharing her work was immediately gone. Pa’s dismissal of her work as something just to be done for fun killed any hope she had of him appreciating her work. Marble said nothing else and retired to her room, taking a small portion of food with her.
She could hear Ma talking to Pa about what he had said, but that wouldn’t change much. He was just happy to have her off to get married. Limestone might be interested, but finding time to talk to her was hard with Pa working her to the bone like he worked himself. She never had time for anything “fun” anymore. Mind you, she thought work was fun, so maybe that was fine with her.
Marble pulled out her sculpture and looked at it, turning it over in her hooves. It was beautiful, and it seemed to glow with a life all its own. She wanted to make more. Tomorrow, she would do just that. Tomorrow.
The next day saw Marble back at her little tunnel with the flower. She had brought more stone for sculpting, but the flower hadn’t changed at all since yesterday. The half-formed petal underneath the others was still half-formed, and the orb was still the same colour as before. Though Marble looked it over, it didn’t even appear to have grown taller.
“Did you run out of plant food… uh… fuel?” Marble said. She opened her saddlebags and pulled a slip of paper out of her sketchbook. She tore off a little piece and held it close to the flower. It caught fire easily, and the flames were pulled toward the flower again. Their arcing paths danced and swirled around the outside of the ball for a few seconds before they disappeared into the colourful orb. Marble waited for something to change but nothing did.
Was it preparing seeds? The sphere looked like something that would be filled with seeds if that were the case. She might just have to be patient.
Marble decided to wait and watch for any differences to become apparent. She pulled out the sculpture from yesterday and began performing the finishing touches on it. She smoothed out the rough edges and began polishing it. This was the time-consuming part of sculpting stone. Breaking off chips of it required a careful touch and applications of just the right amount of force, but smoothing and polishing was what made it look pleasing, and that took nothing but time.
The day ended much the same as yesterday, but tonight’s dinner was silent. Marble couldn’t bring herself to show off her work to her family, but she resolved to do so by the end of the week. Once the flower was done. She went to bed with the sculpture on her mind, wondering what would happen with the flower itself.
When Marble went back out to check on the flower, she was dismayed and alarmed to see it listing heavily to one side. Its colour was a deeper red than before, and the petals appeared to be wilting. She circled around it in a low crouch, trying to see what might be the problem. The ground was dry and cracked where it sprouted out of the soil, but that wasn’t uncommon for the rock farm. It wasn’t known for its lush greenery, that was for certain.
Uncertain what was wrong, Marble decided that there was only one thing she could do: Feed it. It didn’t feel as warm as before, so it might be dying. It might also be getting heavy with seeds, but she didn’t want to take that chance. More fuel or food wouldn’t kill it immediately, and could only do more good than harm.
Marble pulled a full page from her sketchbook, and lowered it center-first only the orb of the flower. It caught, burned, and disappeared into ash within seconds, but the colour of the flower stayed the same. Thinking one wasn’t enough, she pulled out a second page and dropped it on top. That one disappeared within seconds, but the flower didn’t change colour or perk up. It needed something bigger!
Marble emerged from her tunnel and galloped back home. She nicked a piece of firewood from the stack and brought it back to the little flower, then placed it close by and waited.
The side of the orb that was facing the firewood began to glow a lighter colour than the rest. It turned orange, then yellow, then almost became white. Marble had to squint to watch, but soon enough, the firewood burst into flame. The fire that burned on it glowed white-hot, and Marble could see it spread across the log, consuming the dry wood with haste.
As the flames from the log were pulled into the flower, Marble could see it stand taller. The arcing flames swirled around the orb and disappeared inside in a steady stream of glowing heat. She could feel it against her face.
The burning sphere ate more flame and changed colour from deep red until the whole orb, which before was only as big as her hoof, had swelled to half the size of her head. The petals had grown as well, including the stunted one. The stunted one also looked like it had a different purpose from the others. It had rolled itself up, and had begun to grow thick and tube-like. It appeared to be filling with bean-shapes, which meant this was where the seeds came from! It was going to give off seeds! And all it needed was fuel!
Marble hurried and pulled out her sketchbook. She needed to capture this look before it changed too much. She had the seed period sketched out, which was when it had been a kidney-bean shape, and the bud, then the blossom, and now it was flowering, using the fire it took into the orb to prepare the next generation of seeds.
Marble wondered, if this was a mere stunted level of growth from being in such dry and non-flammable soil, what kind of growth would be seen if it was allowed to consume bigger things? It was a beautiful and unique creation, and it was a shame it was so stunted by its environment.
…kind of like herself.
Something like this should be free. Free to go where it wanted, and burn itself out or share its flame as it saw fit. Ponies could take its flame into themselves or burn out with her, fiery and uninhibited. They both needed to be free.
Marble went home that night wondering how she could take the plant and grow new ones. She was silent all through dinner as she pondered ways of harvesting and carrying the seeds herself. Nopony commented on it. She was usually quiet, so it didn’t seem out of the ordinary. By the time it was bedtime, Marble had her plan. It was Wednesday night, so she still three days left to herself. So long as nopony bothered her, she could test her plans and fix them as needed.
In the morning, Marble was quick to finish her breakfast and head out to her workshop. She searched through the mess of stone and other tools until she found what she was looking for. A tin, emptied of its contents, but big enough to hold a moderate amount of dirt, and a flower…
The tin had been used to transport small stones before. Special stones that she had taken and sculpted into various interesting shapes. She’d given them away as presents to ponies she knew and to family. Now, if this tin proved resilient enough to the heat of the flower, she could use it for something else.
She grabbed some protective rubber gloves and a spade and trotted out to the rocky tunnel where the flower waited. The log was nothing more than ash this morning, but the flower was looking much livelier than before. It was standing straight up instead of listing to one side, and the seed pod beneath it was plump and had visible bumps. From a cursory glance, it looked to have five seeds hidden away inside it.
Marble smiled at the flower and cooed gently. “You’re certainly a big one, aren’t you? I’m glad you’re doing better you beautiful little thing, you. Pretty soon, you and I will be together.”
Marble took her tin and placed it near the flower, waiting and watching to see how it held up to the heat. It didn’t melt, and the flower didn’t flare up, so it appeared to be safe. The tin wasn’t going to burn. Next, Marble took her rubber gloves and held them out close to the flower. They too, got hot, but didn’t melt, and didn’t catch fire.
Marble nodded in satisfaction. She needed to get close to the flower, but she didn’t want to touch it directly. It was burning hot. Literally.
She looked at the flower and tried to gauge where the roots were, if it even had any. She hefted her spade, touched it to the packed earth beneath the flower, and pressed down with care. She had a good amount of space between the stem and her spade, but she was worried about damaging the plant. She wouldn’t be doing this if she wasn’t sure it had seeds to grow more of itself with.
The earth was packed hard, and was very brittle. The shovel took some work to dig in, but she managed to work it into the ground with effort. To her surprise and dismay, the dry and baked ground crumbled and fell apart beneath the flower, and it flopped onto its side amid the crumbly mess of dirt.
As soon as she saw the flower drop, Marble gasped and let go of the shovel. Bits of dirt flew up and scattered as the shovel fell to the ground. As for the flower, the moment the sphere touched the dirt a horrible hissing arose from it. It sizzled and the dirt underneath it cracked from the heat. In desperation, Marble reached out with her gloved hooves and picked it up. She could feel the heat even through the gloves, and she squealed in pain.
“No! No, no, no! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Marble tossed the flower into her tin as she grimaced in pain. As soon as it was in she ripped the gloves off and buried her hooves in the dirt, trying to soothe her burns. Tears started rolling down her cheeks, both at the thought that she had destroyed the flower, and from the pain.
The dry dirt provided little comfort, and she eventually pulled her hooves out and poured out her water canteen over them. The water poured over her hooves, and down into the overturned dirt. It sizzled as it hit the roots of the flower, snuffing what remained of it out.
Once the pain was manageable, Marble sobbed and turned to her tin, where the flower was lying on its side at the bottom. It looked pitiful, lying there. The sphere was squashed and oblong in shape, and it was no longer a healthy yellow, but was taking on a deeper red. She knew it was dying. In trying to take its beauty for itself, she had killed that self-same thing she loved. Her careless hooves had murdered it.
Her heart sank, and she sat back on her haunches, sobbing. “I didn’t mean to hurt you! I just wanted to keep you close to me!” Marble watched as the plants colour faded even further, and she noticed the pod. “The seeds!” She grabbed at the pod, pulling the swollen case from the body of the flower with her bare hooves. She hissed in pain, but it separated, and the cooling pod itself split apart, spilling five glowing orange seeds onto the bottom of the tin. They looked healthy. The plant itself was beyond rescue, but the seeds were fine.
Marble sighed and fell backward into the dust. The weight of knowing she had killed the flower was gone, now that she knew she could grow more. But where?
Marble picked herself up, wincing at the pain in her hooves. She needed to get home and clean those soon to prevent infection, and she needed to figure out if she needed to do something to preserve the seeds. They looked fine, but if they died without something to grow in, she’d never forgive herself.
Marble picked up her slightly melted gloves and her shovel, then picked up the tin with the dying flower and seeds in it and limped back home. She went straight into her workshop, placed the tin on a workbench with a quick glance to make sure the seeds were okay, then washed her hooves.
It stung sharply. She hissed as the cold water struck her burns, but when the dirt and dust was gone she was happy to see the wounds were clean and not too severe. The keratin portion of her hooves was black and cracked in places, but that would fall off and be replaced soon. Her frogs had minor burns and were sensitive, which would make walking difficult, but she didn’t need to walk very far now that she had the flower in her workshop.
Marble was no stranger to injury, having learned the hard way just what a hammer and chisel can do to a hoof. That combined with work on the rock farm led to her keeping first aid kits in her workshop. She covered the frogs of her hooves in cooling ointment and gingerly lowered her hooves to the floor. She was taken care of, now it was time to make sure the seeds were okay.
Upon looking in the tin, she was saddened to see the flower was barely more than a pile of embers. It would be interesting to see what was left of it, but her focus right now was the seeds. They were still glowing a healthy orange-yellow, and pulsing with that inner light she remembered. She was glad they appeared okay, but she needed someplace to plant them and share their beauty.
Marble thought back to what had happened with the flower’s initial growth. It had landed in dirt, and had taken root, but it’s environment–one lacking fuel–had prevented proper growth. If she hadn’t fed it, it wouldn’t have become the beautiful creation it had become. It needed fuel, and space. She didn’t want to start another wildfire, so it needed to be someplace isolated where it couldn’t cause too much trouble. Marble pondered where might be a good place to plant some of them, but she was interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Marble sweetie, are you okay? You rushed inside really quickly, and I came as soon as I could.” Marble heard the door to the workshop open, and looked frantically for something to cover the tin. She saw the rubber gloves and just laid those overtop, hoping it would be enough.
“I’m… I’m okay, Ma,” Marble said as the door opened.
Ma walked into the room and took in her daughter in one quick glance. “You most certainly are not!” She swooped in and lifted one of Marble’s hooves to look at it. “You’ve clearly been crying, and what in Equestria has happened to your hooves!”
Marble frantically tried to come up with some excuse as to why her hooves were burnt. Other than the truth, which she didn’t want to share, she couldn’t come up with anything. Instead, in place of words, she just made a quiet; “Mmmhhh?”
“Where did you go to get burned? Were you trying to fetch charcoal from the remains of the fire?”
Marble leaped on the excuse. “Mmhmm.”
“Well it’s dangerous out there. Some coals can remain hot for days, and there’s no way we can find all of them. Just stay away, we’ll order you some charcoal, okay?”
Marble nodded, relieved at not having to explain herself.
“You’ve taken care of them. I taught you well, and I’m glad you remembered. Your poor hooves, though. Just before going to see the Pairing Stone.” Ma lowered Marble’s hooves and pulled Marble inside the house. “Come on, let’s get you comfortable.”
Marble allowed herself to be dragged inside, limping along behind her mother. Ma brought her in to the couch, sat her down, and brought her food, water, and some more ointment for her hooves.
“I’m glad you’ve been having a good time with your art, Marble, dear. But you really must be more careful,” Ma said. “Pa and I has picked out three suitors for you, and they’ll all be at the Pairing Stone this Sunday. We want you to look your best, you know.”
Marble looked away and frowned.
“Oh, of course. I wasn’t going to talk about it this week. I do apologize. Just forget about it and let your hooves heal, dear. I’ll bring you a book.” Ma brought Marble a book to read and left here there on the couch.
Marble didn’t read it. She sat there thinking about how she could get out of marrying any of these three suitors that had been chosen for her. She’d never seen the Pairing Stone, but she knew how the ceremony was supposed to go: Two ponies approached the stone, and depending on the ‘reaction’ it had, they were deemed compatible or not. Then, from the suitable choices, the parents picked the one they wanted. To Marble’s modern sensibilities, it all seemed very hokey.
If she was going to get out of marrying them, she needed to prove to her parents that she would be better by herself, allowed to grow how she wanted, in an environment that would benefit her instead of smothering her. She needed an out of some kind. Any kind.