The Ponyville train station was a familiar place for Pebble Pie. Many times she had stood on this very platform, waiting, watching for a train. There had been many departures from here, many arrivals, so many sad, soggy goodbyes, and happy, tearful reunions. The cafe—a recent addition a few years back—was one of her favourite places to eat in all of Ponyville. A bookstore, an arcade with carnival games, and a newsroom with publications of every kind could be found here.
Hours had been spent here, perhaps even a significant chunk of her life, and not all of it had been spent waiting. She and all of her friends had spent entire days playing skee-ball, each of them trying to outdo one another, and it was here that Pebble had learned how to be friendly while still being competitive—but oh how hard it was to be nice. The fact that Megara was better than her was infuriating.
Pebble was not alone here, but that was no small comfort. Olive wasn’t the only one leaving, but that was no comfort. With the war going full swing, a fair number of Ponyville’s youth, having reached the age of fourteen, were heading to Canterlot to do their part. Some cried, others paced, some repeated their goodbyes over and over to the ones they loved.
Ponyville had seen an upswing in young marriages, with some getting hitched before leaving home. Getting killed—a distinct possibility—guaranteed a widow’s or widower’s pension, and many felt the need to leave their foalhood sweethearts with something. Pebble found it all quite depressing, but try as she might, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. For who knows how many, this would be the last time they saw this train station.
Olive stood with her parents, Sapphire Gin and Vermouth, and upon her head she wore her helmet. She had the unique distinction to be the first Immortal Solar to come out of Ponyville and Pebble supposed that this was a momentous moment for the town’s history, but she couldn’t muster much pride about it, not now, maybe not ever, and it might even be something she would hold in contempt if the worst happened.
Petulant, sulky, Pebble wanted to say how stupid this all was, how pointless it was, but Olive was sacrificing herself for lovers and families everywhere. Not just for Sumac, but so that every family could sleep safely and soundly in their beds, no doubt after some cheerful, saccharine potluck supper done to support the troops. Cringing, Pebble struggled to hold back her bitterness, her anger, and the feeling that she was losing. More than just about anything, she hated losing, and the sensation made her feel sick to her stomach.
Megara stood, almost alone, ponies gave her a wide berth even though she was well known and friendly. It was rough being a manticore spawn in a town named for ponies, and it seemed as though Megara was always alone in a crowd. Silver Lining stood with her, and the two spoke with one another in low whispers.
Missing was Sumac, and Pebble worried. Of course she worried, and oh how she worried. Sumac had disintegrated his eyeglasses and then had vanished in a surge. Strange lights had been seen over the Everfree and the denizens of the dark wood had been seen fleeing. Whatever had gone down after Sumac had vanished, Pebble knew that it was far too dangerous for her to investigate it, and she hated life at this very moment for such a variety of reasons.
Ponyville was giving up its best and its brightest. The very future of Ponyville was departing by train to be processed in Canterlot and then ran through the meat grinder on the front lines. The Grittish Isles had been recovered, but at what cost? The Dragonlands bore some of the worst of it, but Equestria and the dragons stood united, a magnificent machine of war, thanks to the efforts of one Dim Dark. The line was being held in Zebrabwe, though at a terrible, terrible cost that few could comprehend. Windia was lost, but many were hopeful it could be recovered. Pebble’s father took trips to Windia to disrupt and destroy, because he was a living legend there, feared by many, and believed by the cult of Collie Ma to be the one responsible for causing the end of the world. Her father had that effect on others, and Pebble was rather proud.
Overcome by the sheer bleakness of it all, Pebble sighed.
Even worse, Olive had joined the Immortal Solars at a strange time; the rank and file were being shipped out abroad, leaving the Immortal Solars to guard the homefront and perform the duties that the common guards were traditionally responsible for. Olive would be saddled with immense duty—an almost unfathomable amount—and more would be expected from her as a Solar than just about any generation previous.
It wasn’t fair.
The sky began to shift, going from blue to purple, with vivid streaks of outrageous orange, pale pink, and rosy reds. Pebble turned westwards and cast her eyes skywards. She was the rare earth pony that enjoyed looking up at the sky above, and far too many of her kind never took the time to do this, or so she felt. There was a lot to be seen in the sky, though her mother, Maud, might argue otherwise and say far more interesting things could be seen if one examined rocks.
Pebble was not the average earth pony, and she knew it.
“Sumac?” Hearing the distress in Megara’s voice, Pebble whirled around, uncertain of what she might see.
Armed with her mother’s deadpan expression, Pebble moved with a slow but purposeful gait towards Sumac, who was being led along by Starlight Glimmer. He was blindfolded—again—because he had no doubt seared his retinas—again—and poor Starlight appeared as though she had gone for a walk through an active war zone. Vast patches of her pelt were gone, she had blisters, burns, abrasions, her mane crackled with static, she limped, and one of her eyes was almost swollen shut. Pebble knew the cause, and pitied her.
Subduing an alicorn—any alicorn, even the weakest of the alicorns—was something that most ponies had no hopes of accomplishing. As Sumac matured, he was becoming an electrical powerhouse and his fits of temper converted into raw amperage. Pebble had a growing concern for Sumac’s magical alignment, because unlike fire and ice, very little control could be had with lightning. Sumac’s temper issues made everything worse, and Pebble feared his emotional instability.
“Sumac?” Olive’s voice was commanding, yet somehow also vulnerable.
In a scratchy, fatigued voice, he stated the obvious: “I surged.”
“You’ll have to get your eyes fixed again.” Olive had a peculiar calm to her words, given what she had to say. “Master”—she bowed her head in Starlight’s direction and then raised it once more after a few respectful seconds—“it looks as though you had a rough go of it.”
“Olive…” Starlight’s voice wavered and for an eyeblink, it seemed as though she might topple over. “I have released you from your bond and you are my apprentice no longer.” The battered mare sighed, her eyes went downcast, and one injured elbow wobbled. “I am so proud of you for what you’ve accomplished.”
Pebble, unconcerned by the conversation, went to Sumac’s side, nudged him, and then began to herd him away while Starlight and Olive continued their exchange. They needed a private moment to say goodbye, and Pebble wondered where Sumac’s mothers were. Perhaps Lemon Hearts was in need of care and they couldn’t make it.
With great fanfare, mostly hooting, whooping, and hollering, Twilight Sparkle arrived with Moondancer in tow. The bespectacled sweater-wearing mare was one of Twilight’s many trusted administrators. Time was short now, and the train would be here sooner, rather than later. Pebble could feel the urgency of every passing minute and she stonily stood guard while Sumac and Olive engaged in a little last minute necking.
More of a crowd had formed, which left Pebble anxious and out of sorts.
Silver Lining returned from the cafe, bearing an iced coffee drink for Sumac, and Pebble could see that the lumbering griffoness was having a hard time navigating the train platform. Shyness was still a major issue for Silver Lining, and might forever be, but she handled it better than she had when she was a cub. Pebble had fond, affectionate memories of Silver Lining’s clinginess, and how she hung on for dear life to everypony she trusted.
“Where are your parents?” Pebble heard Olive whisper.
She heard Sumac say in return, “I begged them not to embarrass me while I said goodbye.”
Then, from behind her, Pebble heard the sound of kissing—the intense slurping kind that involved slapping a pony’s tonsils into submission. She felt a twinge of jealousy—it was impossible not to feel this way—but there was also relief. For a time, Pebble had been in a rush to sort out her sexuality, to find out which way her barn door swung, but an encounter—a heartfelt conversation—with Aunt Pinkie had resolved that problem quite nicely. It didn’t matter which way her barn door swung—but oh how she longed to have more time with Olive so that she could experiment.
For Olive, foalhood had reached its end. Pebble had once raced for the finish line, unsatisfied to remain young, but now, more than ever, she saw the folly in that. She wanted these years to stretch out and last as long as possible, because they would be over far too soon. Sure, Olive could have waited a little longer, another year or two, but she had wanted to get started now. While Pebble respected that, she also resented her friend for leaving.
Silver Lining, now returned, stood beside Pebble holding Sumac’s iced coffee drink.
The herd was breaking up and there would be no recovering it. It seemed that the best of friends—friends who had survived so much together, had faced so many threats together, friends who had almost been killed together—could not survive the end of foalhood. Not only had Olive grown up, but she was going away, off to start a career. Not just any career, either, but the sort that demanded all of her, and left nothing to share.
Pebble, lost in introspection, wondered how she would ever recover from this.
When Twilight Sparkle cleared her throat in front of the microphone, the portable amplifier squealed and every ear present pricked in pain. Moondancer made hurried adjustments and threatened the electrical gremlins with furious, fiery destruction, but with her soft, soothing voice, it sounded as though it would be such a wonderful, delightful thing, something to enjoy, something pleasant.
Pebble knew better. Since being taken by changelings and tortured, Moondancer had issues. The quiet, soft-spoken mare almost seemed as though she was a welcome mat just waiting to be walked on—but welcome mats in general did not have a talent that focused specifically on magic—and since her capture Moondancer had recovered her confidence by immersing herself in the destructive arts.
Rumour had it that Moondancer had gone to Dim for tutelage; whatever the truth was, she had come home from the Crystal Empire a different mare. Still quiet, still mellow, still the same shy, sweet mare, so tender and reserved—until she wasn’t. Pebble had seen it with her own eyes and she had heard stories of Moondancer’s role in the battle that had taken place here in Ponyville when the ice orcs had invaded the Crystal Empire.
Beware the quiet ones.
“I want to begin this with an apology, everypony, because I’m sorry for what I am about to do,” Twilight Sparkle said, holding her head back from the microphone. “Olive, you’re a bad filly for not finishing school!” Twilight’s stern rebuke didn’t last long and her stern face softened, then melted. Lower lip quivering, her eyes watered and tears could be seen pooling in the corners. “You’re also one of my very best students, and your growth and transformation into the young mare that you are today is exactly what I had hoped to accomplish when I first opened my school. With the exception of not graduating, you have exceeded all of my expectations and filled my heart with joy.”
Moving to stand beside Twilight, Starlight Glimmer nodded, causing some of her scorched mane to crumble away. Pebble noticed for the first time that Starlight’s eyebrows were gone—just gone—and she had no eyelashes whatsoever. What had Sumac done? What insane courage did Starlight have to appear in public looking the way she did?
“When you came to my school, you were a special case, Olive. I debated with myself the merits of taking you in. You didn’t meet the enrollment qualifications, but something had to be done. In the end, I couldn’t make the decision on my own and I had to return to my mentor for advice. She told me about another troubled filly… that filly became the school bully, but showed so much promise. Like you, she never graduated. Unlike you, she never quite got with the program. That filly was Trixie Lulamoon and she is now one of Princess Celestia’s most prized graduates… just as you will be remembered as one of my most prized graduates… someday. At least, that is my hope. But you’re going to have to do something pretty darn spectacular to earn my forgiveness after dropping out of school! Until then, no diploma for you!”
“Thank you, Headmistress Sparkle, for giving me yet another goal to strive for, and something I can accomplish in the future.” When Olive stepped forwards, Pebble saw tears on her friend’s face, and the drab green filly was shaking from ear to hoof. “Without you and your school, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Come back to me when you curbstomp a thousand-year-old evil or something.” Nostrils flaring, Twilight began to sniffle and her lower lip rippled in an odd, supple way. “Maybe save the world once or twice, and then we’ll talk.”
Pebble glanced in the direction of Olive’s parents for a moment and then had to turn away in a hurry. Both of them were sobbing into each other’s necks and for Pebble, the sight of it was almost too much to bear. The sun was dipping even lower and far to the south, she heard a train whistle blow. It was the worst sound in the world, as far as Pebble was concerned.
“All of you who are leaving home this day,” Twilight said while her eyes darted around, “I thank you, and Ponyville thanks you. Go make friends! Discover the magic of camaraderie! In the guard, you are going to meet ponies and other creatures from all over the wonderful land of Equestria. They will have different customs, different ways, and they will talk differently too. Revel in it! Make the most of it! Those are the things that make friends extra special! Treasure what makes us different, and hold fast to what we all have in common!”
Twilight’s words were met with some applause and she waited for it to die down before she continued, “Some of you are going to join the Royal Guard Corps of Gringineers… now, I don’t want to play favourites, and that isn’t what I am trying to do, but I have an extra-special message of thanks for you. Some of us are pacifists”—her eyes scanned the crowd, reading faces, and gauged reactions—“while others have strong convictions and deeply held beliefs.”
Brows furrowing, Twilight’s mane didn’t quite hide the wrinkles just below her horn. “There is a lot of talk of cowardice that I hear every day. Some pretty awful things are being said about the ponies who join the Corps of Gringineers. Well, I have this to say: never let anypony call you a coward, or talk down to you, or try to shame you by saying that you’re not brave enough to die for your country. We are at war! A war with multiple fronts! And with so many of our best and our brightest being sent away overseas and being dispatched to foreign lands, we are desperate to fight the war on poverty here at home. It is of no less importance.”
Not much applause was heard, and this bothered Pebble so much that she stomped her hooves even harder, which caused the platform to quake. Before a panic could set in, she eased off just a little, but still stomped with great enthusiasm. A practical pony, Pebble saw the merit in having a branch of the guard just for ponies who didn’t want to fight, but still wanted to devote their lives to something meaningful.
Angling her head upwards, Pebble looked up at Olive, and then bumped her to get her attention. When Olive looked down, Pebble gave her the best come-hither eyes that she could muster, and when Olive bent down, Pebble kissed her. It started off as a simple kiss goodbye, but it seemed that Olive had other plans. When Olive’s lips parted, Pebble found herself being invaded, and for once, she laid her competitive nature to rest.
It was a sweet moment made sweeter when Pebble allowed for it to happen.
The chuffing of the train could be heard now and Pebble was saddened when she knew just how short this kiss would be. Sure enough, as the train drew nearer, Olive pulled away. Pebble gazed into Olive’s olive coloured eyes, anxious, hoping to spot some portion of Olive’s soul that she could snatch away and keep safe forever.
Grunting, Pebble pulled Olive into a hug, and then gestured at Silver Lining. The griffoness grabbed Sumac, hauled him in, and while holding his coffee drink in her primaries, she swept up all three ponies at once without effort. Then, she hugged them and Pebble feared that Olive might have to get spinal surgery rather than go to Canterlot.
Sumac, crushed between two fillies and one mighty large and rather pudgy griffoness, had this to say: “Olive you, Olive you so much.”
“Sumac Apple Lulamoon,” Olive whispered in response, “you are the worst of ponies.”
With the screech of metal on metal, the train slid into the station. Twilight was still talking, but Pebble hadn’t heard a word. Silver Lining let go and much to Pebble’s dismay, she saw Olive’s parents. Feeling awful, Pebble disliked them just a tiny bit for taking away some of this precious time, and she disliked herself even more for feeling this way. Sometimes, she was just so selfish that she couldn’t stand herself.
Pulling back, Pebble watched as Olive embraced her parents and like a lizard in the sun, she basked in the warmth of their familial embrace. Twilight was still yammering away, saying Twilight things, inspiring ponies in her own special Twilight way, and while Pebble knew these words were important, she didn’t have it in her heart to listen. Wrapping her foreleg around Sumac’s foreleg, she jerked the blind colt closer, pressed herself against him, and rubbed her snoot against his scorched, somewhat charred cheek, just below his blindfold.
He smelled of ozone, of burnt hair, charred wood, and of thunderstorms. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Silver Lining had slipped the straw of the iced coffee drink between Sumac’s lips, and then, Pebble heard him slurp it down. She could feel the lump in his throat when he swallowed, she heard him breathing, and perhaps gaining a new level of near-marehood, she had a new kind of understanding of what Sumac meant to her.
But it had come at such a cost: the loss of Olive.
It was only through heartbreak that Pebble had reached this new plateau of maturity. This was wisdom paid for with loss. It wasn’t just Sumac, Pebble realised, but Silver Lining too, though her feelings were somewhat different for the griffoness—these nebulous, unknown feelings that she had no understanding of. Which way did her barn door swing? With Olive leaving, Pebble would have to remain curious: griffon-curious. Who knew what sapphic, supple, secret delights awaited discovery?
Even though she desperately wanted to hold on to her foalhood, Pebble had grown, and it had happened just a moment ago. A spurt of growth that had taken place in an eyeblink. Olive was exchanging tearful goodbyes with her parents and watching this, Pebble was overcome with a curious sense of joy. Why did she feel this way? She didn’t know and wasn’t sure. Olive was departing—they were losing one of the core members of their juvenile herd, as was the monniker placed upon it by the adults, who had to give such silly names to everything.
But…
With the loss of one, what remained felt stronger.
Applejack had once tried to explain to a distraught and weeping Sumac that pruning the apple trees didn’t hurt them, but made them stronger, because it encouraged them to grow. Maybe Applejack was wrong—perhaps pruning did hurt, just as Sumac insisted that it did—but the wise country mare was also right: lopping a limb off made the tree grow stronger. Pebble had lived just long enough to witness the results for herself and they were undeniable.
Sumac would recover from this pruning, but it would take time. An emotional, excitable sort, there was nothing that could be done for Sumac to aid his recovery, but wait. So, Pebble would wait, and when Sumac started to feel a little better, he would no doubt want to plant an apple tree, because that was how he expressed his loss, and the rear garden behind his house was a testament, a monument to his losses. Olive had even helped to plant a few of those trees, and now, Pebble was certain that one would be planted for their missing herd member.
But Sumac would not plant a tree until he was ready to let go, and that could take months, or even a year. Pebble found the whole thing quite endearing, and in yet another moment of profound realisation, she knew that it was something she treasured about him. Musing, thinking her thoughts, she listened to the sound of the train, of Sumac drinking iced coffee, of the ponies on the platform saying goodbye, and she took note that Twilight Sparkle had gone silent.
In fact, Twilight was coming in this direction.
Olive broke away from her parents and the helmet on her head glinted in the last dying rays of sunlight. The train brought with it quite a stink; hot metal, burning coal, machine oil, the stench of industry. It was only a ceremonial helmet for now, no doubt worn by hundreds who had been accepted, but one day soon, Olive would wear the real thing, the sort of helmet that would transform her into uniform regularity.
“Twilight?” Olive awaited whatever it was that the Princess of Friendship had to say.
Poor, unfortunate Twilight, she appeared as though she might burst at any minute. “I’m so proud of you, Olive. Look at what you’ve accomplished… not alone, but with friends. You are going to go on to do great things… amazing things… may your loyalty to Princess Celestia be unwavering.”
“Thank you, Twilight.”
“You didn’t just make friends… you made special friends,” Twilight babbled while her legs flexed and she bounced in place. “You made friends with the difficult ponies, the ones that it was hard to be friends with. Olive, you chose the hard way, and I’m so proud of you.”
Rolling her eyes, Pebble groaned. So she was difficult, was she?
“You gave a shy griffoness her confidence, made a manticore spawn feel accepted, won over a wary dragon’s trust, taught the most selfish pony I know how to share, and you were a constant, true friend to a pony that you once called your enemy. Somepony that you hurt. You even shared a dark moment together and you faced the Queen of the Changelings. Olive, you’ve proven that you’re more than capable of advanced friendship, which is why I expect so much more from you than the others. Now, get on that train and go do great things. Once, a long time ago, I had to leave Canterlot and my friends behind to come here. Now, you’re leaving Ponyville to go to Canterlot. Every great thing starts with something precious ending.”
Still miffed that Twilight had called her difficult—and selfish—Pebble groaned again. Twilight would pay—in time—but that would have to come later. Right now, what Pebble really wanted was a hug from Twilight, because those were special, but she wasn’t about to ask for one. Nope. No way.
“Goodbye, Olive.” Sumac’s voice was foalish in Pebble’s ears.
“See ya around, Sumac,” Olive replied, and like Sumac, she didn’t sound quite so grown up.
“Good luck.” Silver Lining didn’t move from where she was hunkered, holding Sumac’s cold drink.
“Thank you.” Olive bowed her head as ponies boarded the train behind her.
Unsure of what else to say, Pebble repeated the words to the song that she had sang earlier this very day, but there was no joy in it, just the sound of a broken heart trying to have its say. No excitement, no feeling, she spoke the words in her mother’s borrowed deadpan. “You've got to win a little, lose a little, yes, and always have the blues a little. That's the story of, that's the glory of love. That's the story of, that's the glory of love.”
“Cheer up, Pebble Pie.” Olive smiled, and her white teeth stood out in sharp contrast to her gold helmet. “Remember to keep practicing those angry kegels and then give Sumac exactly what he deserves when the time comes.” While the green filly spoke, her mother let out a sad, sniffling snicker, while her father averted his gaze.
“Okay.” Raising her hoof, Pebble waved, and offered a final goodbye.
Raising one fuzzy paw, Megara saluted, and this was returned by Olive. Then, as Pebble watched, Olive bit her lip, turned around, and strode away. So this was how it ended, in a bittersweet funk that Pebble wasn’t sure how to feel about. Pebble blinked, and Twilight Sparkle moved in such a way that only Twilight Sparkle could. She was on Olive in an eyeblink and like Silver Lining had done so many times before, Twilight Sparkle tried to squeeze Olive into oil.
It lasted for but a few precious seconds, but it gave Pebble a little extra time to stare at Olive’s plush, generous hindquarters. Somewhere beneath Olive’s wavy, flowing tail, was a mysterious, unseen entity that Sumac called Sweet Pea, whom Sumac had claimed as a pen pal, and to whom he frequently wrote letters to. Once, in a fit of flirting, Sumac had chased after Olive, a letter levitated over his head, shouting that he had to deliver the mail and would she please present her mailslot for delivery.
Even though it hurt, Pebble smiled, a secretive little smirk that made the corner of her mouth curl up. Sweet Pea had two sisters; Cocoa Nib and Silver Button. When Pebble’s first letter had arrived, addressed to ‘Cocoa Nib,’ she had almost hyperventilated from hysteria. Silver Lining was too embarrassed and too shy to share her letters, but Pebble could imagine what they had to say.
Twilight let go and with a few steps, Olive vanished into the train. Pebble sighed, distraught, and knew that tonight had to be a sleepover night. They needed to be together and it was her job—Pebble was The Stone—to hold up her companions in times of trouble. Olive was gone, the circle was broken, which meant that it was time to grow up and move on.
Though unwilling, Pebble found that she was ready, and she knew that she would get through this somehow. Pulling Sumac closer, she smooched him on the cheek, then she grabbed Silver Lining, hauled her in, and smooched her as well, getting a mouthful of feathers for her troubles.
The glory of love had left Sumac blinded, Silver Lining sad, and Pebble broken-hearted, but between the three of them they both still had so much left to give. At least they still had each other—for now—and Pebble was determined to keep them all together somehow. Everything hurt, and everything sucked, but Pebble knew just how to fix it.
“Hey, let’s pig out on ice cream in the cafe… it’s too damn hot.”