//------------------------------// // Chapter 4 // Story: Nom's Mom Bomb // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// Using a feather duster, Chartreuse removed nonexistent cobwebs from the tiny idol of Chantico, a strange dog-cat creature, and wondered if Chantico was ticklish. Though she hadn’t ever been particularly faithful, nor much of a religious pony, Chartreuse had been touched by Hearthfire. The experience had left her shaken, a changed pony, and for now, there was an odd amicable relationship with the idol, as well as its curious benefactor. Many in the Crystal Empire had one, and they had become quite popular as of late after the ice orcs. This was an adult decision that she wasn’t sure if she was ready to fully dedicate herself to. Her mother and father were ponies of faith, something about the worship of candles, but they had never pressed it upon her, but rather had told her to find her own way. She had heard both her mother and her father recite a phrase during times of trouble, ‘It is better to light a candle than curse the darkness,’ and Chartreuse could see the wisdom in this statement. Perhaps when she was older, wiser, and more experienced, she might commit herself more. “We need to get Charty a Fancy maid outfit.” Ignoring Chalcedony, Chartreuse moved on to dust the bookshelf. “I vaguely remember seeing something like that before I lost my sight. Sumac said that Pebble lost a bet and he made her wear a Fancy maid outfit for Nightmare Night, whatever that is. Anyhow, I bet Charty would be a stunner in a Fancy maid outfit.” Snorting, Chartreuse ran the duster over the spines of the books in the shelf, cleaning them. “Chalcedony—” “Yeah, Nom?” the filly interrupted in a chirpy, excited voice. “You make it hard to have gay thoughts. Now I want to see Chartreuse in a Fancy maid outfit, and I am almost certain that I shouldn’t be thinking that way. It is… perverse. There is now something wrong with my brain and it is all your fault.” “Regulation violation?” Chalcedony asked while she leaned in against her companion. “Indeed. Several, at least.” The colt coughed, squeaked, coughed again, and the sound of a page being turned could be heard. “We must finish our homework, Chalcedony. Let us return to the wisdom of Twilight and her benevolent teachings.” With an annoyed tail flick, Chartreuse stepped onto the launcher and thought about the third floor, where she and Chalcedony slept. There was a whoosh, which tickled a bit, and she was shot upwards on the blast of air that had been conjured. When she was away from her companions, out of sight and in the privacy of her shared quarters, she began to giggle to herself, feeling special without understanding why. It was a good feeling though, and she allowed herself to revel in it as a reward for doing housework. For every wizard that made a name for themselves, there were no doubt hundreds, maybe thousands who faced the daily grind. For every Vinyl Scratch, there was an endless parade of working class wizards just trying to make ends meet. Magical tinkerers, magical repairers, exterminators who removed various infestations of pests, this was a wizard’s lot in life. For every Great and Powerful Trixie Lulamoon that had great fame and prestige, there were also the unseen many wizardly janitors that cleaned up life’s myriad of messes, but never had a word of thanks. Yet, some things on the job rang true no matter what one did as a wizard. There was always work to do, even if one had to roam about to find it. During the Great and Powerful Trixie Lulamoon’s wandering years, the esteemed and especially skilled Trixie had roamed the continent in a wagon, taking on odd jobs as a tinker, repairing all manner of magical things from abacuses, to cameras, malfunctioning magical-mechanical milking devices, and even zampognas, no doubt. These were things that mattered. A wizard made the world work, for most of the world was magic, in some form or another. Not every job was glorious, but not every job had to be. Chartreuse, who very much wanted to be a wizard, saw some worth in a rather dreary, magically mundane future. Sure, she had aspirations of being a court wizard someday, perhaps, that was why she was here, after all, but she saw no shame in getting dirty and actually working as a wizard. If her copy of the Big Book of Mighty & Important Wizards had taught her anything, it was that hard work and humble beginnings took one places. And Chartreuse knew that she was going places, though she had no idea where. For now, she was here, paying her dues as an apprentice, she was working hard to power through her humble beginnings so that she might join the ranks of working wizards everywhere. Even if nopony ended up remembering her name, it was still a prestigious place to be. After a short absence, Sunburst had returned and with him he had brought supper in the form of Istanbullian take-out. While there was a lot in the box, Chartreuse had a favourite; sarma. While it had a number of variations, she loved the version of sarma that was squash blossoms stuffed with rice and herbs. Other variations involved grape leaves or filo dough wrapped around a variety of fillings. There were other things, such as pilaki, kisir, and piyaz, as well as things she couldn’t quite remember. Gathered around the table, this was a good time to be had. “Sumac is coming back to the Crystal Empire,” Sunburst said to Chalcedony while he put more food upon her plate. “He’s coming for magic instruction and I think that I might be able to free up his schedule enough so that you and he can visit one another. But no more fights in school.” “You wouldn’t do that to me,” Chalcedony replied, speaking around a mouthful of food. Sunburst’s lips pressed tight together and Chartreuse watched him, trying to study her master’s face, trying to determine how stern he was at the moment. He had changed, Sunburst, there was something different about him since the ice orc invasion. It wasn’t that he had grown cold, nor hard, or anything quite like that, but he was different. He had moments, like now, where a certain sternness could be observed in his eyes. Being a hero did that to a pony, apparently, and there could be no doubt, Sunburst was a hero. Of course, Sunburst had help, and there was a distinct possibility that she herself was a hero, but Chartreuse had only acted as a helper, an apprentice, and she had done her job, as was expected of her. Sunburst got the limelight that he so rightly deserved, though he had to share it with Spike the Dragon. For Spike the Dragon, being a hero was as natural as breathing, but then again, so was setting things on fire. In that aspect, Spike and Dim shared something in common, as both were nature’s natural arsonists. While Chartreuse herself was also fire aligned, she was also polite and settings things—or others—on fire was rather rude. Rarity, who owned a very fashionable flamethrower that she kept beneath the counter in her Canterlot boutique, said that rudeness should be a last resort, what one fell back upon when being a lady had failed. Sometimes, a lady just had to burn things down, but Chartreuse wasn’t grown up enough to be a lady just yet. “Chalcedony, your teachers tell me that your marks have improved. A few are even cautiously optimistic that you might turn over a new leaf.” “I have better friends now,” Chalcedony replied, her mouth still full of food. “I told you, I told you, I was applying myself, all of myself, and giving it my best effort. The constant worry of not knowing when my current assistant of the moment might quit out or leave me made it hard to study or do much of anything, really.” Sunburst nodded and levitating a napkin, he wiped Chalcedony’s muzzle. “Yes, it’s been hard for you. I’ll even go out on a limb and say that you might be right, but only if you can admit that sometimes you give up before you even try.” Chartreuse’s head turned as though she was watching a tennis match, and she studied her companion’s face. For Chalcedony to admit when she was wrong was tough; she was a filly full of excuses and a long list of reasons for how she behaved. She seemed pained, her chewing had far less gusto, and she seemed somewhat bothered by having her muzzle wiped by Sunburst. If only she would wipe her muzzle on her own, though not on her foreleg. “I have a right to quit,” Chalcedony whined while Sunburst rubbed her nose with the napkin. “My sight was lost. I’m not about to go stumbling blindly into things unless I absolutely have to. Nopony tells me what to do.” Again, Chartreuse’s head turned because the ball was now in Sunburst’s court. “Disabilities happen. Bad things happen. That’s no excuse to give up. Look, I have no idea how hard it is for you, but you can’t just quit.” Lifting his hoof, Sunburst gestured at both of Chalcedony’s companions. “See, things have worked out, exactly as I said they would. Sure, it took a while, and things were hard, but things did get better just like I told you that they would.” “You also said that I would fall in love,” Chalcedony said, her voice cracking, and Chartreuse turned to look in her friend’s direction. “You’ve made an awful lot of promises and you keep telling me that things will work out, but this is the first time things have worked out. How am I s’posed to feel? Things haven’t worked out for me so far. I’m an orphan. I’ve felt the lash on my back, I’ve lived in irons and I’ve gone blind. So far, everything in my life that’s happened tells me that bad things are more likely to happen than good! Why should I just believe you?” All of Chalcedony’s surface optimism that she displayed was now gone, revealing a far darker core. The bright, cheerful filly that Chartreuse called her friend had revealed herself as somepony else, and while there had been hints of darkness for a time now, Chalcedony was doing nothing to hide it, nothing at all. Still, she glowed, a radiant steady glow, a light that did not waver. For all of the darkness on display, Chalcedony’s inner light had quite a shine. It made things confusing. “I don’t wanna talk about it no more.” Chalcedony banged her hoof against the edge of the table, but not out of anger. “I just wanna eat.” “Okay, Chalcedony, that’s fine,” was Sunburst’s patient reply. With the brief flurry of drama over, Chartreuse returned to eating. Sunburst’s patience, like his optimism, seemed endless. With the meal over, Chalcedony had insisted on going out with Sunburst in tow, but she had not said why, only that she had to get to the market square. Chartreuse was quite confused because they had already visited the market earlier, and she couldn’t think of a reason to go now, because everything was taken care of. Nomination led the way, as he tended to do, because the crowds had a way of magically parting for him, which made it easier for Chalcedony, who followed just behind him, her ears focused on the sounds of the colt in front of her. Sunburst was just behind, following, his cape blowing in the breeze, and Chartreuse brought up the rear. “When we get to the market, we need to go to the park in the back with the privacy hedge—” “Oh no,” Sunburst groaned. “Not that. Anything but that.” “No!” Chalcedony stomped her hoof but didn’t slow. “I’ve heard the other students talk about it—for some of them it is all they ever talk about and I want to be like them! You want me to live and do stuff like foals my own age, Sunburst!” “But that,” Sunburst protested, “is vulgar.” “I have needs,” the blind filly said, her hooves clopping in perfect time with Nomination’s. “Everypony talks about it and I wanna do something that everypony my age says is normal!” “Chalcedony—” “We’re doing it!” the filly squeaked and Sunburst was silenced. Chartreuse had no idea what ‘it’ was. In the back of the market square, hidden within a secluded hedgerow was a tiny park that Chartreuse had never visited, but had walked past a great many times. Sunburst’s face was a new and exciting shade of orange and his white spot had a certain vivid pinkness to it. He hesitated near the entrance and Chartreuse could hear the sound of running water while Nomination stood sniffing the market air. “The students call it a ‘pee pledge’ and I want all of us to take one together. If you can tolerate me, commit to me. Please, please do this for me. Maybe it’ll help me put my mind to rest. You too, Sunburst.” “Starlight wants me to do this too but I told her no.” Sunburst squirmed, shaking his head from side to side, and cast disturbed glances at the arched entrance in the hedgerow. “I don’t understand this part of crystal pony culture.” “It is just something we do and Spike was brave enough to let it happen,” Chalcedony replied. “The whole of the Empire cried when Emperor Shining Armor and Empress Cadance said no.” “Said no to what?” Chartreuse asked. In response, Chalcedony giggled. Overcome with curiousity, Chartreuse did what she always did in these situations; she took the lead. Shoving Nomination aside, she passed through the entryway of the hedgerows, turned left, walked down a cobblestone path, turned right, stepped through an ornamental archway, and then froze in place as a ferocious blush consumed her face. There was a statue of Spike here that was at least three yards tall. He stood in a noble pose, arms uplifted, a beatific smile upon his draconic face. But that was not where Chartreuse’s eyes were drawn, no, Chartreuse found herself staring at the two streams of water that formed a graceful arch—which Spike was peeing out. Two streams of water. Chartreuse’s face burned a bright shade of fluorescent green and she wished, that for just this once, that she hadn’t been quite so curious. The sound of Chalcedony giggling behind her only made Chartreuse blush harder, but it was Nomination’s reaction that sent her over the edge and almost caused her to scream. Much to Chartreuse’s dismay, she heard Nomination say, “Some of us are born with Janus-organs. It is a most curious breeding deviation.” Sunburst sighed, because of course he did, and then he stood there looking everywhere but at the Spike statue. After a cough, he said in a low voice, “Parents bring their newborns here and lay them on, uh, the, uh, um, the natural cradle that is formed. Pictures are taken. I’ve never understood it. There were almost riots after Flurry was born and Shining Armor and Cadance tried to avoid doing it. Skyla had pictures taken here too. I’ll never understand the ways of the crystal ponies.” “Students come here to catch a drink for good luck on their exams,” Chalcedony said to her companions. “Crystal ponies come here to make their most sacred oaths. The pee pledge is one of our most sacred oaths. Long ago, there was a statue of Princess Amore, and we drank from that, but King Sombra smashed it to break our spirits.” “Starlight wants to come here too.” Sunburst took off his glasses, which had fogged over, and now stood squinting at Chalcedony. “I don’t understand her either.” “Mares are mysterious,” Chalcedony said in a knowing voice. “I need a pee pledge saying that we’ll stick together. For reassurance.” “There’s nothing in the regulations about this.” Nomination was staring straight ahead, his eyes affixed on the smiling dragon’s midsection. “This is a straightforward application of friendship principles and brings to mind the story that Twilight tells of her witnessing the Apple Family reunion. She encountered a lot of strange customs and she didn’t understand a lot of what was going on, but she didn’t need to. She only needed to understand that it was important to Applejack. By understanding the importance and the value assigned to the event by her friend, Applejack, Twilight was able to overcome her disgust for earth pony mud wrestling and was even able to enjoy herself a little bit.” “Okay”—somehow, Chartreuse found her courage and committed herself to this course of action—“everypony into the fountain. If we show that we’re here for Chalcedony, maybe she’ll try harder. She just needs a little something to believe in.” Like Sunburst, she pulled off her eyeglasses and now had to squint, but at least her spectacles would stay dry. Resolute, she led the way, all while wondering what her parents might think of this strange custom. Muttering to himself, Sunburst trudged forwards, his goatee bobbed in the breeze while his jaw moved, and stepped over the basin edge into the water with a splash. Spike, his arms spread wide, seemed glad to have visitors. Nomination was the next to join, and using his wing, he guided Chalcedony along. She didn’t stumble when stepping over the tall basin edge, but she did gasp due to the chill of the water. One stream of water was about six inches or so in front of Chartreuse’s face, the other was about a foot or so away and to her left. She was almost tipped over into the drink when Chalcedony plowed into her, and it seemed that fillies would be drinking from one stream while Sunburst and Nomination would drink from the other. Everything about this felt wrong, but there was also a giddy sense of fun, a clandestine thrill in doing something so shocking as a group. “I, Chartreuse Le Feu, of House Le Feu, give my word to be a steadfast friend to Chalcedony.” As far as oaths went, it wasn’t bad, being quite straightforward and to the point. Closing her eyes, she opened her mouth and plunged forwards, knowing the stream of water awaited her. Around her, she could hear her companions doing the same, making their own oaths, and when the water struck her snoot she paused to allow it to flow into her mouth. The water was as cold as it was humiliating, but it was a small price to pay for Chalcedony’s happiness. Something about this whole ritual felt dirty, but there was something to it, something that Chartreuse could not put her hoof on. Stepping back, she shook the water from her muzzle, then made the mistake of opening her eyes and looking up. Spike was smiling down at her; never again would she be able to look him in the eye.