Ruthenium’s ride in the elevator was harrowing, to say the least. Learning of near total civil unrest and uncountable damages during her vacation was not what she’d expected. She’d fallen silent and completive nearly half way up the ten minute ride nearly straight up into the central city spire to a small squad of four male royal guards decorated in gleaming silver armor.
“Mares, come with us to the exit,” the one that seemed to be in charge stated to the occupants as they disembarked the lift. He turned and began to lead them, flanked by two other guards and one following behind, out of the tower. A shorter trip than she’d expected through a grandois lobby that befit the royal members above her at the tower’s top.
Or perhaps far underneath, she didn’t put much effort in finding out more, choosing enjoyment over politics.
The grand chandelier above them was easily as large as her apartment and it seemed more like a castle interior than a spire like in other cities. “I see you looking, never been inside?” a mare next to her asked. Ruthenium shook her head. “There are enchantments to make the inside larger than the outside based on a visitor that was supposed to have once been here on a long journey.
“That inspired the basis for the central city spire and all the others. This one, home to the princess, is the largest and most well protected. Nothing short of a megaspell will get through the upper levels and the entire frame is-”
“How do you know all this, exactly?” Ruthenium asked bluntly.
“Convenient exposition?” she said with an awkward smile then leaned closer to Ruthenium, speaking softly. “Fine, I’m an architect and work at a company that was bought by the company that… well, let’s just say I work near the blueprints. They’re not that secure and I’ve brought it up a few times, but these unihorns are so convinced of their perfect designs,” she rolled her eyes and backed away.
“So, what’s that gotta do with… whatever, nevermind,” she stepped away from the mare.
“Excuse me, mister guards, can I use the restroom?”
“No,” the one to their right stated. He started as she pushed past him and toward a side hallway. “Stop! Guards, stop her!”
“Can’t hold it, gotta go,” the exposition mare shouted in the distance. Ruthenium and the other two were shoved with magic as other guards gave chase to the toilet bound mare.
“Hurry out of here,” the lead guard shouted and cast a shield around his group and entered a gallop followed by the others, now carrying the mares to the entrance.
The doors slid aside and the noise of typical city life washed over her as she was taken out and placed on the ground. “Enjoy your day,” he said urgently and returned to the interior.
“Well, that was rude,” Ruthenium said as she dusted herself off and turned to look for the other mare who had already made her way into the crowd and vanished. “Double rude,” she turned away and made her way home. A rumble in the distance tickled her ear but she dismissed it as thunder.
She weaved her way through the crowds and lost herself in the nostalgia of being back to her home city. The sounds, the busy nature of the unihorns around her, the sights, the smells… and for the first time she took notice of the grounders performing menial tasks like litter pickup, pulling rickshaws, all the while looking dejected having never known the life of freedom that exists a mile below them.
“Oof-”
“Hey, watch it, Lady.”
“So sorry, it was my fault. I’m making my way home and shan’t cross your path again,” Ruthenium said as she bowed her head to the mare and moved along. “Nag,” she mumbled under her breath.
She kept looking up, expecting to see any flying ponies above. Perhaps catch some moving the clouds or even a speck out of place in the sky. She managed to bump into several more mares and tumble over a colt once to her embarrassment.
She finally reached her building and took the routine path up the stairs and to her door. She cast the spell to unlock and open the door, closed it behind her, and dropped her bags on the floor as she made her way to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. What she saw wasn’t the same mare she’d seen before she’d left.
The mare looking back seemed weathered, tired, and different at a fundamental level. There was a change in her eyes that she didn’t notice while below the land she knew of as home. A weariness from her travels seemed to come to the forefront now that she was home. A safe place, a place where her walls could come down, a place where her life was lay open when she was alone.
She thought back to the nearly two weeks of her vacation. She whimpered and pouted, looking away from the mirror and moving into the living room. It was so quiet, lonely; had she always lived this way? Yes, but it hadn’t ever seemed so bleak. She opened the curtains and looked out over the city view she had morosely.
“I miss Swifty, Xalan, even Flower Potts. For a grounder she was pretty cool,” she sulked and pressed her forehead to the window. The soft clack of her horn touching the window was a constant she’d learned to ignore over the years while going from work to home and maintaining her routine… and she’d constantly place her head to a window or mirror and the sound.
She leaned back up and watched as nothing happened. Nothing in the sky, nothing flying between the buildings. Just a slow motion of sameness that she didn’t enjoy anymore. “I thought going on vacation was supposed to reinvigorate a mare,” she sighed and turned to the couch to relax.
The television turned on and she lay comfortably with her chin on her crossed forelegs for several minutes as she used her magic to change channels. “Nothing’s on,” she managed to say as lethargy tried to take her over. “No, I don’t care, I’m going to work. At least there’s something to do there.”
She went to her closet and changed into a modest dress with matching knee high boots and belt with a purse that accented her coat color, then left her apartment behind as she quickly made her way to her job.
Greetings came and went, words of enthusiasm and happiness of her health and wellness passed, and finally, after hours of drudging through the city to home, then to work she felt contented enough to relax with a group of her work mares with a dozen or so others listening in to her short tale.
“I didn’t really see the invaders beyond the ships. There were about a dozen of them and armed from tail to horn with weapons I’d never imagined. The first thing they did was detonate a bunch of explosions outside ahead of them and then some rainbow bomb went off and that was about it. There were grounders and pegasi with them, too. After that I met a couple friends as I made my way home and spent a couple days,” she looked smugly, “relaxing. Then I came home.”
“How was he?” one of her friends asked.
“Amazing,” she answered absentmindedly then stammered, “f-for a stallion, you know.” Giggling and chuckling surrounded her and she blushed. “He was really sweet and I wish he could have come back with me, but he had to stay back where he lived.”
“Oh my,” somepony teased, “sounds like somemare wants to visit the stables.”
“What’s a pegasi and grounder?” another voice cut into their mirth. Dream Walker raised his foreleg to let her know he’d asked.
“Oh, a pegasi is a flying pony with wings and grounders are what they call mudders.”
“Who ‘they,’ the invaders, did you talk to them?” a mare asked.
“No, not the invaders they. The,” she hesitated, “mudders called themselves grounders when I came across them on my travels back home,” she scratched the floor.
“Wow, you actually talked to mudders? I thought they were mute.”
“Not all of them, silly,” a stallion answered. “Some are born with half a brain that works. Those are the special ones. I heard they get special jobs like being researched or bred with other smart mudders.”
“They’re grounders, not mudders,” Ruthenium insisted.
“Why’re you calling them that? They live in the mud and like it, right?”
Ruthenium narrowed her eyes. “Not all of them.”
“Wow, you’re different,” a friend pushed her from the side, “maybe you should take me on the next vacation.”
A round of laughs and a forced smirk from Ruthenium was all she could manage as the entire group broke up into smaller conversational groups with Dream and two other mares. “Ruthenium, are you well?” He asked.
“Yeah, just a lot happened and now I’ve got a lot to get over, back to my old life I guess.”
“We’re here to help you, if you’ll let us.”
“Meh, I think I can handle it. I just have to get back to life and it’ll go away,” she sighed, “I mean, the whole war and revolution aren’t happening here, so we’ve got that, right?” she smiled to her small group.
They looked amongst each other. “Actually…”
“Oh no, they’re here too, aren’t they? It was true,” her head lowered and a mare patted her shoulder.
“It’s okay, the military has been activated and local police are keeping the peace. It’s just some out of towners that are trying to make a point.”
“Overchargers,” another added somberly.
Ruthenium winced. “Really? I thought that was rumor, I couldn’t imagine overcharging. I’ve got so much to live for,” she looked between her friends, “at least I believe I do.”
“We’re all going through a lot of things, but it’s not going to suddenly make us go crazy and ‘boom’ out of the blue. It’s a big choice to make and I’m not gonna choose ‘boom’ over anything else… unless I’m going to be enslaved,” she said and the others hesitantly nodded, “I’d rather be dead than be a slave to some alien monsters.”
Ruthenium looked at the floor. “I don’t think even then I’d do it.”
She got up and excused herself to the restroom, instead leaving the room and building all together. Standing outside the building she turned and moved into the flow of traffic. “What’s wrong with me? I used to love gossip but now,” she looked to her right and left at all the similar unihorns and missed the diversity she’d known for such short while.
A grounder caught her eye and she moved through the crowd until she got to her. A filly, no more than two years old with a hard bristle scrub brush in her teeth. The filly moved it side to side wincing as she did. “Excuse me, what’re you doing?” she asked softly.
The filly dropped the brush and cowered back, bowing.
“What’s your name? Where are your parents? Can you even speak?” she asked softly, ignoring the disdainful mutterings from passers by. The filly whimpered quietly. “What was that? Fine, I order you to look at me and tell me your name.”
The little mare looked up and her grey eyes stabbed Ruthenium in the heart. “Name, Bad Eyes, mistress.”
Ruthenium moved forward and sat next to the filly, towering over the blind pony. “I don’t think that’s your name. Your coat is pink, your mane is yellow… How about Cotton Candy?” The filly scrunched her muzzle. “No, how about Bright Eyes? Because your eyes are as bright as the stars in the night sky.”
“Hmm,” Bright nodded. “I like, but please, no tell. Master come soon, no food if bad work, please.”
“Master, huh? A stallion,” she tapped her chin, “here, I’m going to take the brush for a second,” she took it in her magic before the filly could leap onto it. She scrubbed the spot and huffed. “What’re you supposed to be doing with this, there’s no soap or water and the ground isn’t that dirty.”
“Master say if Bad Eyes want vittles, gotta clean all the streets. Can’t see, so Bad Eyes just work, good.”
“That, doesn’t make any sense. Why’d he make a blind filly scrub a street? I mean, no offense, but there must be a lot of other things you’re good at doing or could be useful for. You’re a grounder, a mudder, you’re strong and… tenacious,” Ruthenium mused through the serious question.
“Huh? I am not,” the filly patted the top of her head and drew Ruthenium’s attention to a mark barely visible through the filly’s coat.
“You’re not what? Did you bonk your head, silly filly? Let me see,” she parted the filly’s coat with her magic slightly and looked, tracing a scar that arced in a semicircle at the apex of her forehead. “Huh, got a big…” her eyes widened and voice hitched. She looked back to the confused filly’s face and then to the scar. “Platinum above,” she breathed.
“Bad Eyes is broken.”
Ruthenium hopped to her hooves and stepped back and her hindquarters were promptly pushed to the ground as she tripped another pony that wasted no time cursing her. Ruthenium’s eyes watered and she placed a hoof to her lips to hold the crying at bay. Rivulets of tears still ran down her cheeks as the filly’s ears moved around.
Bright felt the ground with her hooves and bumped the brush, bit it, then resumed her side to side strokes.
It’s to strengthen her muscles… that’s why she’s been given this task. How many more? Why? Ruthenium thought as she moved to press her side to the building beside the filly. Her mind raced through any memory she could find and she scanned them over and over.
Ruthenium’s eyes trembled as her mind went over as much of her life as she could recall at the moment and realization struck her. “There aren’t any disabled unihorns anymore, not for four generations. They said it was,” she blinked tears from her eyes as the filly squeaked.
“Mistress, here? Me has apology.”
“N-no, it is fine. Say, what say I stay with you until your master arrives and I see about buying you, huh?”
“Mistress may do as she wishes.”
“Please, call me Ruthenium.”
“Uhhh.”
“Yeah, it is a bit difficult. How about Ruth, can you call me that?”
Bright nodded once. “Yes, Mistress Ruth. May I return my task?”
“Yes, you are doing very well by the way. Keep it up and I will put in a good word for you, yes?”
The filly smirked for the first time since they met mere minutes ago. “Yes, thank you, Mistress Ruth.”
As the filly scrubbed, Ruthenium watched her and after a few minutes dried her tear stained cheeks with her dress. She spoke softly to herself as she waited, mumbling mostly about history classes and what should be common knowledge. How something so horrific could happen right under the snouts of every unihorn and not one would notice because of the stigmas carried.
“Classes. Nobility. Rich. Poor. Where’s the line drawn, how and where is this okay?” she said out loud and cleared her throat excusing her words so the filly could return to work. “Say, when does your master come to get you? It’s been a while,” she let the statement trail off.
“Warm, cold, warm, cold, warm Master comes. Warm, cold, warm Master will return for this one,” she said around the brush in her teeth.
Ruthenium was dumbstruck. Flabbergasted. She worked her jaw for a moment as her vision focused on nothing in particular. “Y-you mean you do this for three days? You don’t even eat?”
The filly snickered. “Bad Eyes eats, Master gives bread when cold, Mistress.”
“Okay, that’s it,” Ruthenium stood again and picked the filly up in her magic. “You’re coming with me,” she told the filly who trembled but remained silent as she was carried into the crowd with her brush still in her mouth. Ruthenium came across a pair of grounders and trotted to them, stomping her forehoof on the ground to gather their attention from staring at the ground while they chewed a bowl of unrefined oats.
“Do either of you know who is the master of this filly?”
They moved back and bowed. “No, mistress. This one knows nothing of the one in your possession.”
“This one knows nothing, too.”
She looked intently at them and their bowed heads and moved the coats around where their horns would be but saw no marks. “Of course not, the scars would’ve healed years ago and you’d be none the wiser. Both of you, I was never here, go back to your meal.”
“Yes, Mistress,” they said in unison and watched as she trotted away, back into the crowd that gave the filly some space which worked well for Ruthenium because she carried the filly back to her work building and up the stairs to her work area.
“I need to speak with you,” she hissed at Dream Walked when she passed him and the mare he was flirting with. He looked at the filly she was carrying and hurried to catch up to them leaving the mare without excusing himself.
“Ruthenium, what in Platinum’s name are you doing with a mudder in the building, much less here?!”
She slowed and he noticed she’d been crying. “Please, in your office, I need to talk with you, privately.”
He nodded, quickly gathering himself and rushing past her and leading to his office. Once inside he closed the door and enchanted gems around the room for privacy. “Okay, what’s the deal? You’re going to have to have a good reason for this, I can explain it somehow, but still-” he winced.
“This grounder,” she pointed to the filly she had just set on the floor, “was a unihorn. They cut off her horn because she’s blind,” she sobbed and sat beside the filly who was curiously patting the carpeted floor.
“Woah, now that’s a big accusation. And there are more questions than answers, like how are you sure she was a unihorn?”
She answered quietly between sniffled. “She has a scar where her horn was.”
“A filly with a scar, wow. Never would’a thought. Did you talk to its owner? Or even see if it can speak to answer that question itself?”
Ruthenium turned to the filly. “What’s your name, sweetie?”
“Bright Eyes! But Master say Bad Eyes. Mistress Ruth say Bright, not Bad,” she hopped on the carpet smiling.
“You not only named it, you let it name you,” he pressed a hoof to the bridge on his snout. “You’re not thinking clearly, Ruthenium. Something on this vacation-”
Ruthenium glared at him. “I am not crazy or imagining this. Look,” she picked the filly up in her magic and sat her between them and used her hooves to move the fur, “this is where the scar starts. It curves around right here and ends here. How could a grounder get hurt exactly where a horn should be and who would bother to stitch it closed?
“Remember basic medic classes from school? The ones we all have to take? These are suture marks. I didn’t get qualified to suture any more than you did, but I know what they look like. Do you expect me to believe another grounder did this?”
He stepped back and exhaled loudly. “Do you have any idea what you’re saying? You’re implying that there’s some coverup taking blind unihorns and making them mudders? Do you know how crazy that sounds?” he asked calmly.
“No, not just blind. When was the last time you saw a lame pony? A birth defect walking around? A retard stumbling into a wall or over themselves?”
He groaned. “Ruthenium, those problems were cured ages ago, you can’t just say every disabled unihorn is turned into a mudder and expect anyhorn to believe you, I’m talking with you and I don’t even believe you right now.”
“Why?! Why won’t you believe me?” she moved the filly back to beside her brush. “If you cut off a horn, any horn, then you’re left with a grounder. This filly was scrubbing the ground to build up her neck muscles because unihorns aren’t as strong as grounders. It’s a perverse form of slavery!” she shouted and raised a foreleg for effect.
“Mudders are not our slaves. We care for them because they can’t care for themselves. We offer them lives when they can’t make one themselves. Unihorns are their saviors and we are to them as the Platinum line is to us. You can teach a mouse to follow a maze just like you can teach a mudder to pull celery from the ground.
“They’re not intelligent, they’re not smart, they’re not unihorns!”
Ruthenium stumbled back and guarded the filly from his verbal assault. Seconds passed where only their breathing could be heard before Ruthenium stood and took the filly in her magic. “I, thank you for your time and wish you the best of days. I must retire as my vacation has exhausted me in many ways. I trust this conversation will be kept between us?”
He sighed and his horn glowed around the door. “Ruthenium?”
She reached the door and looked back. “Yes, Mister Walker.”
“What will you do with, it?” he looked pointedly at the filly.
She replied softly and smiled at the filly. “I am not certain, however I will not leave her on the street for two more days with a loaf of bread to sate her. She will have to stay with me until I find her master and speak with him.”
“I think I can help you with it,” he started to say and moved closer.
“Oh, no you don’t, you ruffian. You’re not to lay one hair, hoof, or magic tendril upon her! If you choose to try I’ll scream and buck you to the moon,” she told him with narrowed eyes.
He chuckled. “No, I mean I know a place you can keep it short of dropping it where you found it.” She leveled a glare at him. “Fine,” he went to his desk and wrote on a piece of paper, “this is an address where you can keep it-”
“Her.”
“Whatever. Get the filly there and don’t let anyhorn know you’re taking care of her or else you may get targeted by the bigots. Leave and please don’t bring one of those things into the building again.”
She opened the door and carried the filly ahead of her clearing a path as others didn’t want to touch her. Once outside, Ruthenium wiped some sweat from her head and made her way to the address. “I swear, if he’s setting me up I’ll be very cross with him.”
“Am I going to scrub soon?”
“Hopefully never again,” Ruthenium mumbled in a deep tone. “Okay, here we are. A house? Huh, well, let’s see what’s here.”
Four gentle knocks using the knocker and several seconds of waiting later the door cracked open slightly. “Yes?” A meek voice belonging to a light blue stallion asked.
“Uhm, hello. I was told I could leave this poor filly here. Her name is Bright Eyes.”
His eyes looked them over. “Who sent you here of all places?” he asked quietly, conspiratorially.
“My senior at work, Dream Walker. May I come in or shall I stand outside being interrogated?”
“The former,” he replied curtly. “Wait here.”
The door creaked closed and Ruthenium stood waiting for about a minute before sounds of small chains sliding unlocked the door and it swung open quickly. A tall mare looked down her nose at Ruthenium. “Who sent you, what do you want here? Who’s that filly and why can’t she walk?”
“May I come in or-”
“You will wait and answer or leave.”
Ruthenium scoffed. “Very well, I am Ruthenium and this filly is Bright Eyes. She’s blind and was a unihorn before she was mutilated and left as a grounder. My senior at, Dream Walker, sent me here because it’s supposed to be a sanctuary of some sort that I’m losing faith on.”
The tall mare narrowed her eyes. “Let me see her head, if you’re so insistent.”
Ruthenium hesitated and moved the filly between them and set her on the floor. “Now, Bright Eyes, stand still, okay?”
“Yes, Mistress Ruth.”
Ruthenium sighed and didn’t notice the disproving look she received from the other mare and stallion shying behind her. “Bright, please, don’t call me that. You may address me as Ruthenium, I am not your owner nor would I ever own another.”
The larger mare placed a hoof on the filly’s head and moved her fur, inspecting the scarring. “Come in, quickly,” she stepped aside.
Ruthenium picked up the filly and they walked in; the stallion eeped when his cover moved aside and he ducked behind her again. “Finally. I was wondering when manners would rear themselves.”
The stallion closed the door with a glow of his horn and the door locked again. “Who are you, really?” he asked softly.
“I already told you, and I refuse to answer the same questions repeatedly. May I ask you again if you will keep her safe, or shall I take my leave?”
“Priss,” the mare grunted. Come with me.”
“Excuse me? I’m many things, but a priss is not one of them. Now my parents…” she trailed off before she said anything she’d feel regret over later.
“Downstairs, then we talk.”
“The basement? How cliche, should I expect a secret base for a radical movement?”
They followed the mare with the stallion behind down into the basement, empty save for boxes that probably held old household items. She stepped aside when she got to the bottom and the two others passed. His horn glowed and the door closed making the scene creepy and awkward for Ruthenium.
“You’re in with us now, so if anything happens to us, we’re taking you to the same place.”
Ruthenium looked at the mare and gulped. Before she could ask or protest the mare reached to her head with a foreleg and looped her fetlock around her horn and pulled it off. Ruthenium eeped and stepped back.
“I am Helping Hoof, grounder and member of the resistance,” the large mare said sternly. “I don’t trust you, but Glittering Gem here does. He’s quiet but knows a lot and is a unihorn.”
“Wh-what are you gonna do to Bright and I?”
Helping Hoof frowned. “If you must know, we’ll take the darling into our care so you can go back to your life as a prissy, prim, and proper noble unihorn.”
“Wait, woah, woah, woah. Okay, I’m gonna drop the act and level with you,” Ruthenium said urgently. The resistance members’ ears perked as she spoke in a more common tone. “I know I’m not a real noble, but it’s nice to play the role sometimes. Look, I don’t know you or what you’re about, but I’m not about to leave a blind filly that’s been mutilated in your care just like that, grounder or not.”
The large grounder smirked. “You just earned a little respect from us both because not once have you insulted my kind. However, she is safer in our care because we understand what she’s going through and how to help her become a member of society. You didn’t even notice I wasn’t a unihorn until I took it off,” she dropped it and kicked it lightly toward Ruthenium who stepped away. “It’s ceramic from a factory that produces dozens a day as ornaments and novelty gifts, I’ve got a half dozen more.”
Ruthenium lowered Bright Eyes to the floor and rolled the horn to the filly so she could occupy herself while adults spoke. Bright Eyes picked it up between her hooves and sat down feeling the smooth item in her hooves.
Ruthenium sighed as she watch the filly. “That doesn’t help me to understand or trust your motives. How do I know you won’t just give her to the government offices or-”
Glitter coughed loudly and brought attention to himself, he shied back a step and trembled as he spoke. “N-no. Never. We would never work with those jerks.”
“He means the government,” Helping clarified, “go on, dear. You can do it.”
“Thank you, love. Miss, there is a reason many of us are against the leadership of our nation. Part of it is because the civil wars that cleansed parts of the land of ponies that questioned Platinum’s rule. The experiments performed on grounders. The secret experiments on unihorn foals,” they glanced to the filly, “which are publically called conspiracy theories, but some of us have family that are,” he trailed off and looked expectantly to his larger wife.
She rolled her eyes. “I was born a unihorn and was dehorned when I was about the age to receive my skill brand. The doctors told my mother I was sick with a rare disease that,” she paused and swallowed hard, “eh, anyway, they ran a couple experiments on me that sterilized me and left me constantly channeling magic through my horn.
“I remember them saying something about how my horn would help their research move ahead, whatever that meant I didn’t know or understand what was about to happen.”
“What,” Ruthenium asked, “happened? If you don’t mind telling me.”
The grounder pony sighed and shook her head in resignation. “Already this far in, why not. It’s an empty feeling. First, you can feel the aether and manipulate it to your will if you’re skilled enough. It’s a constant presence that’s there to remind you of what it means to be special. Then, I went to sleep and woke up without that. I was alone in every way. My parents wouldn’t have a mudder as a child, even if it was just as show.
“The hospital staff paid me no respect. The world without magic and the aether isn’t easy, by any means. Doors are designed to react to magic, not pressure or words. Not even my presence mattered to most of them. I couldn’t leave the hospital when the government came to take me and I ran from them into the door and broke my snout.
“The funny part was that they were more upset that a mudder was running around on the loose calling for it’s mommy then the fact I was a bandaged unihorn filly,” she seethed and Glittering placed a hoof on her side to calm her. “I was shunned the moment they took my horn from me and sent to work in a rock quarry where I got my skill brand,” she turned and lifted her dress, “a stone,” she said flatly.
“I had the potential to be anything as a unihorn and they made me have a stone instead of anything useful. I spent fifteen years toiling in the quarry until I was supposed to have been sent into the forests beyond to die, but,” she chuckled, “things worked out and now I’m here and I’ve told you too much as it is,” she turned to her husband and scolded him. “Why’d you let me spout off like that? You know I can’t hold my tongue.”
“Because, you always seem happier when a new pony knows of what you’ve been through and how strong you’ve become for it,” he leaned onto her and nuzzled her gently under her chin.
Helping Hoof hummed contently.
“Okay, sorry to interrupt the moment,” Ruthenium interjected, “but I’m not comfortable leaving Bright Eyes with you. Your story is moving, however there is nothing that says what you’ll do with her when I leave. Even though the risk is high, I believe it’ll be best for her to stay in my care.”
The grounded narrowed her eyes and huffed while the stallion frowned. “You don’t get it. You take her up there and you’re a target, she’s a target because of you.”
“A target of what? Evil looks and disapproving words? Bah,” Ruthenium turned her nose up, “if that’s the worst I’ll claim her as a training exercise or something and ignore the comments.”
“She’s blind, what’ll you do about that? There are no disabled unihorns and disabled grounders are only good for pulling,” Glittering added.
“Then I’ll find a use for her! You two should be ashamed,” Ruthenium admonished them, “a kind little filly here has been changed from one race to another and now has to live with it the rest of her life, and all you have to offer are comments on her lot in life. Can you show us to the door, we’re ready to leave,” Ruthenium finished with a stomp and picked the filly up and placed her on her back. “Hold on to my mane and I’ll carry you, okay?”
Bright giggled. “Mommy gave me rides, too.”
The mood sombered for a second as each adult wanted to ask about her parents but resisted, knowing they’d given her away instead of taking care of her themselves.
“Ruthenium, I don’t know what to say about all this.”
Ruthenium smiled at the mare. “Sometimes that the best thing to say.”
…
Ruthenium ignored the looks and gawking she was receiving as she carried what seemed to be a grounder on her back, letting it hold onto one of her braids between its hooves while the filly bounced. Within two hours she’d made her way home and into her apartment, the door closed behind her quietly and she placed Bright Eyes beside the couch.
“Wait right there, I’ll get you a toy.”
She went into her bedroom and started looking around for anything a blind filly could play with and snickered at a toy she found that was certainly not something she’d share, much less with a filly. Placing the object back in her sock drawer, she went to her closet and nickered happily when she found an old box.
“Look what I brought you, Bright Eyes, it’s my mother’s and I’m going to share them with you,” she said opening the box and placing seven equally sized small orbs on the floor. “They’re meant to train you on using your magic, but you can just roll them and get a feel for them on carpet, okay?”
“‘Kay,” was the response Ruthenium got and cared for. She turned and made her way to the nearest aethernet connected device and turned it on.
“Call Dream Cresent’s box,” she said with her back to the filly. The sound of glass clinking was all she needed to know the filly was fine.
“Yeah, this’ Dreamy, who’s callin’?”
“‘Dreamy’? Wow, you actually call yourself that?”
His voice scoffed. “Ruthenium, nice to hear from you. Free of the little one, I take it?”
“No,” she replied and slightly sang, “I’ve got a filly at home.”
“Wh-what?! Why would you do that? You were supposed to leave her with, them.”
“Them? You mean the unihorn turned grounder and her husband? Why would I leave a blind filly with two ponies I don’t even know?”
“Because they were at least able to keep her. You’re going to have to have good reasons to have an unlicensed mudder in your home and a reason to go along with it.”
“Look, I know where I can take her and she’ll be safe. I can’t tell you where or how I’ll get there or when, but it’ll be better for her there than here, okay?”
There was a tense silence between them. “Dream? Is this still connected? Can you hear me?”
“Yeah,” he finally said. “Just, this isn’t what I expected from anypony I knew, much lest you, no offense, of course.”
“You know, just by saying ‘no offense’ doesn’t make it any less offensive,” she sighed. “Is there nothing you have to say about this or why you sent me to two,” she hesitated, knowing the call could be being listened to by a shady sector of the government, “of your friends that aren’t able to offer a good reason to take in a filly.”
“Look, just watch her for a little bit, can I come over and talk this over with you?”
“Well, yes,” she dragged the word out, “may I ask why?”
“There’s something you should know, if you’re going to be watching her and taking her to some safe place. I may have a better place to offer.”
Ruthenium thought it over and shrugged. “Sure. Come by when you have time, I’ll be here occupying her. It’ll be a sinch.”
A pregnant pause followed that comment, then snickering. “Have you ever dealt with a foal?”
“I’ve seen it on TV, it can’t be that hard! Just get over here,” she shouted while starting to blush and shut the connection off. “Stallions,” she huffed and turned back to Bright Eyes. “Awe, so cute,” she said walking over. “Where are all the balls? Did they go under the couch?”
Bright Eyes’ ears focused on Ruthenium and the filly spat out one. Ruthenium blanched. “Where are the rest?” she asked with concern. When the filly picked up another between her hooves and sucked it into her mouth, Ruthenium yelped and fell to her chest and used her hooves to open the filly’s mouth, or try to.
With a whining grunt the filly turned away and swallowed. “No!”
Ruthenium gasped and used her magic to try to force the filly’s mouth open, too carefully to risk harm thus proving to be a pointless task. “Oh no, oh no, oh no,” she danced between her hooves nervously, “what do I do? Will she be okay? Oh no, oh no! Don’t pick up anymore,” she yelped and snatched the remaining five balls from the floor and placed them back into the box.
Bright Eyes had begun to cry.
“Oh no, you ate two?! Please, don’t cry! Are they hurting you? Let me know if you need to vomit,” she scampered to the kitchen and got a tea mug and returned to the filly, placing it in front of the crying one. “Puke in that,” she turned and ran to the bathroom, panic rushing her. She opened her medicine drawer and moved through dozens of expired pill bottles whimpering as she looked them over.
“Where is it? Where is it?! Laxatives! Got it,” she took the bottle and looked at the date and grumbled. “Three years expired? Okay, it’s fine, just stay calm, it’s fiber based.”
She stood and trotted out of the bathroom, through her room, and into the living room. “Bright Eyes, where are you?” she asked when she saw the spot was empty. “You’re not crying anymore, that’s good, but now I can’t find you… Where’d you sneak off to? I have medicine for you to make you better.”
A whimper from the far side of the couch gave her away and Ruthenium quickly moved around. “Found you! Take some medicine,” she held the bottle of powder to the filly whose ears swiveled on her head, covered by her forelegs. She shook her head and sniffled. “Awe, it’s okay, look, it’s… I mean, listen, it’s yummy. Nom, num, num.”
Bright Eyes whimpered in response.
“C’mon, you must take your medicine. It’s for your health. You can’t eat enchanted balls and expect nothing to happen. You might get sick, or the enchantment may bleed out into you. Those were enchanted with weightlessness, you don’t wanna float around, do you?”
“No medicine, icky.”
“Yummy, so good and it tastes like fresh hay and alfalfa.”
“Icky, medicine always gross.”
The bottle lowered slightly. Ruthenium sighed and sat down. “What the heck am I gonna do with you?” she said softly. “Maybe I can mix it into your food?” she mumbled. “I have a better idea, if you don’t die from choking in the next hour, I’ll buy you some ice cream! Have you ever had ice cream?”
Bright Eyes lifted her head, her grey eyes darting side to side before she shook it.
“It’s the best dessert ever,” she stated haughtily. “It’s a luxury item, as mares aren’t always lactating and those that do charge top fees, but mother knows a few mares that know some spells and have access to the milking houses,” she sang the last part in her normal voice, “and if you take the medicine I’ll take you to the milking house to get some ice cream.”
The filly thought for a moment and Ruthenium sweetened the deal. “I’ll even toss in the extra payment and let you top your ice cream with whatever you want! Gummies, mints, grubs, caterpillars, maybe some candied grasshoppers, huh?”
The filly grinned and nodded fervently. “Ahh.”
“Okay! Hold the bottle, I’ll get some water to mix it into.”
…
“Precious Platinum, no! Not on the carpet, it’s seeping in! Please, stop crying, you’re gonna get ice cream if you stop crying and pooping! Why’d you eat all the medicine?! Urk, gluh, uh, the smell. I’ll carry you to the bathroom! Ahh! It should’t spray that far… MY BED! Aaa! Please, make it stop. Goddesses above, please make it stop!
“Oh no, why’re you making that face? Blbbbluhmygoshits in my mane! Both ends, both ends, get in the tub you little monster! Urp, ugh, oh no… two years, since, blurrrggh. Blurrrggh. I’m -blurrrggh, kaf, kaf- never having -bluurp- foals.
“Oh no, urrrrp, no. No, no, no! The enchantment’s starting! Arrrgh, get me out! Oof, I can’t get up, it’s everywhere, under my hooves. Can’t get a grip. It’s floating in the air… all of it. Bright Eyes, please, I beg you, please stop… How can there be more? Where’s it all coming from?”