//------------------------------// // Happy birthday // Story: Princess Twilight Sparkle's School for Fantastic Foals: The Soul Thief // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// “Kiddo… happy birthday.” When Trixie Lulamoon looked down at her adopted son, she saw the best years of her life, a living, breathing reminder of her long recovery. With him, she saw evidence of her own generousity, her kindness, her laughter, her honesty, her loyalty… and yes, even her magic. Their relationship represented the great Equestrian Virtues. With him, she had found her greatness, and that splendiferous magnificence was altruism. Smiling, Lemon Hearts said, “Six. How does it feel to be six, Sumac?” Trixie could see that her son wasn’t quite awake yet. Twilight had kept him awake for most of last night during an unscheduled, impromptu astronomy lesson for her students. Little Sumac had finally been roused from his bed at the second first hour—one in the afternoon. His eyes were still crusty with eye-boogers and he had a wicked case of bedmane that would take a crack commando team of Manehattanite manedressers to fix. “Where’s Boomer?” Sumac asked. “I woke up and she wasn’t there.” “She went shopping with Megara and Pinny Lane. Smart little dragon. She understood the importance of getting you a gift.” Lemon Hearts laughed, a cheerful, melodical sound that seemed to bounce from wall to wall. “Oh.” Sumac turned his bleary expression upon Trixie. “Boomer got a smart explosion.” “She sure did,” Trixie found herself saying in response. “How about we get a proper meal in you before your party? Pinkie will be here soon and I don’t want her filling you with sweets. You need some proper, nutritious food. But first, you need to get cleaned up. Go do that, Sumac. Or do you need some help taking a bath?” The look on Sumac’s face was endlessly amusing for Trixie and she struggled to contain her smile. So ferocious! So cute! The way his little stubby muzzle scrunched and wrinkled with annoyance. This was the best part of being a parent; you could be a pest and this was considered good parenting. Grumbling to himself, the colt stumbled off and because he was not wearing his spectacles, he immediately smacked headfirst into the staircase bannister. “Kiddo… you gotta remember to put on your glasses when you wake up. Boomer won’t always be there to remind you.” Lemon Hearts was just finishing up a few dirty dishes when Pinkie Pie’s face appeared in the window above the sink. The startled lemony-yellow unicorn gasped at the sight of the pink pony grinning in at her, and before Lemon Hearts could say anything, Pinkie Pie opened the window. “Is it safe?” she asked while Lemon’s heart flopped against her ribcage. “Is the birthday colt distracted? Is my distractor distracting?” “The distractor suffered from a distraction and got distracted,” Lemon Hearts replied. “Not to worry, Aunt Twilight showed up as a replacement.” “Poor Moonie has been depressed lately. I was trying to distract her from her depression.” Her face framed by the window, Pinkie Pie scowled while rubbing her chin with one hoof. “If only she’d listen to her eyebrow… good advice, that eyebrow. Bother.” “Do come in,” said Lemon Hearts to Pinkie. “I see you brought your wagon. I’ll help bring stuff inside. Kitchen is clean, so you’re free to work with no worries. I just finished the last of the dishes.” “Thanks!” An excited squeal slipped out, followed by, “I’ll be right in!” Boomer could no longer be called a hatchling. She was tiny, yes, but had more than doubled in size—except for her tail, which seemed far too long for her current body size. Hopefully, she would grow into it. Twinkleshine had to suppress a giggle when Boomer lept up onto her back, clambered up her neck, and clung to her horn. “Did you find something?” “Yes.” Boomer’s voice was shrill and somewhat metallic in nature, as if somepony was speaking through a trumpet. There was something brassy about how she spoke. “And what did you find, young lady?” In response, Boomer lept. Legs out, she stretched out her membranes and soared across the living room in a wobbling flight, which ended when she crashed into the brown paper bag that sat on the floor near the door. Not exactly a graceful landing, but Boomer was durable beyond belief. The little dragoness climbed into the paper sack while Megara giggled and emerged a moment later, dragging out a box bigger than she was. “Boomer.” At the sound of Twinkleshine’s voice, the pygmy tree dragon froze. “Boomer… that’s a picture puzzle. You like picture puzzles. Far more than Sumac does anyhow. And you hide away the pieces for ‘safekeeping’ which means that nopony can ever finish a puzzle in this house… not without conjuring up the missing pieces, anyhow. And then you have tantrums when your secret stashes are disturbed.” Offended, Boomer did her best chuckwalla impression. So outraged was she that this time, she managed to appear at least four times her actual size, and she shook her frills and spines at Twinkleshine in a menacing manner. She hissed, but this caused her to deflate a bit, and then annoyed beyond reason, the tiny dragon let everything out in a tremendous belch that made everything in the living room rattle while she shrunk to her teeny, tiny normal state of existence. “I am not impressed,” Twinkleshine remarked. “Frankly, that burp does not live up to dragon standards, young lady. Either do it right, or don’t bother doing it at all.” Dejected, Boomer tried another approach. Drooping, she let all of her inflatable bits sag like busted balloons and did a terrific job of looking pathetic. “We do together. Quiet time. Make puzzle make sense.” Sighing, Twinkleshine realised the battle was lost. Boomer had good intentions. Yes, she had picked out a gift that she herself wanted, but she had done so with the intention of spending time with Sumac. Quiet time was the time when silence was enforced in the house, and everypony engaged in silent activities that improved cognitive abilities. Reading, writing, hobby work, and for Boomer, puzzle solving. “Meg, did the two of you have a nice time together?” “Yes.” The part-pony-part-manticore-spawn plopped her fuzzy haunches down upon the floor and smiled so hard that she revealed the roots of her tusks. “Missing your father, Meg?” The broad smile faltered for but a moment. “Yes.” “Poor dear. Meg, feel free to play with Boomer, but don’t destroy the house. Oh, and please, stay out of the kitchen. Pinkie is working in there. Claws in, Megara. We have wooden floors, not stone. Be mindful.” “I’ll do my best,” the chocolate-brown manticore spawn replied. “I’m going to go help Pinkie,” Pinny Lane announced, and then she trotted from the room. Summoning her patience, Twilight Sparkle did her very best to ensure that her voice remained neutral when she said, “Sumac Apple, surely there is something that you want. I detest having to guess what ponies want as a gift, so I take the direct approach. It’s okay to ask for something. Now let me be your aunt because I want to dote on you.” The colt did not respond, but stood there with a blank expression upon his face. “Ugh… every foal has a list of things they want. Things they desire to possess. Shining Armor wrote impossibly long well-organised lists of things he wanted. Why can’t you just ask for things like a normal foal? Argh!” Throughout Twilight’s sudden outburst, Sumac remained impassive. “Don’t you like dolls?” Sensing that she had just made a classical blunder, something akin to getting involved in a land war in the Midreach, she hurried to correct herself and hoped that Shining Armor never caught wind of this mistake. “Action figures! Action figures! Don’t you like action figures? At all? Spike loves action figures and I buy them for him all the time!” The owlish colt had nothing to say. “What about kites? Starlight Glimmer loves kites. She’s even got Spike liking kites. And there was that one time that Spike flew on a big kite… and I thought I was going to have to dig a shallow grave for Starlight…” Twilight’s words trailed off and her muzzle contorted into a fierce scowl. After a moment of intense glowering she added, “At least Starlight offered up a sincere apology for that boneheaded stunt. You know what? No kites.” “I wasn’t going to ask for a kite anyway,” Sumac replied. “Surely there must be something—” “All my interests are covered. I don’t need another bow. I have a library full of books. I have model airships that I still haven’t finished putting together, so getting another one would mean leaving it in the closet until the others get finished.” “What about a castle playset? So much imaginary fun to be had!” “I have a castle playset.” Sumac’s ears stood up and one eyebrow arched, following the curve of his spectacles. “Boomer took it over. It’s her castle now and she becomes righteously indignant if I disturb the place where she likes to hide her puzzle pieces and other assorted treasures.” “Righteously indignant… Sumac, have you been following my reading list for building a better vocabulary?” “Of course. I’m currently working through year nine.” The colt paused to adjust his glasses, cleared his throat, and his hooves shuffled against the green grass at the side of the road. “Honestly, a lot of your year nine selections are puerile, Aunt Twilight.” “Oh.” Twilight did the best she could to hide the disappointment that insidiously crept into her voice, robbing her of her confidence. Perhaps year eight was the cutoff point for foalishness and year nine should be the introduction for young adult reading. “I’ll take your input into consideration, Sumac.” Then again, her nephew was six as of today… what was he doing reading year nine? She was proud of him for his accomplishment, but annoyed with him for breaking the schedule. Schedule-breakers were troublemakers of the worst stripe, and she feared for Sumac’s future. “Come along, Sumac. Perhaps if we continue to walk around, we’ll spot something that you like. Stay close. I wish Flurry was here… I could get twice as much Aunting done and that would be so much more efficient.” “Lemon, stop squeezing—” “I can’t help it!” The lemony yellow mare made an adorable face of defiant protest. “You’ve got your mane pulled back in a bun and you just look so… so… cute!” Rolling her eyes, Trixie shook her head. She had pulled her hair back into a bun because it was too hot in the kitchen—sweaty hot—and being fondled by Lemon Hearts only made things hotter. Not to mention sweatier. How could she possibly enchant Sumac’s cake to explode with fireworks the moment it was cut? When the fireworks went off, the folded swan napkins would all take off in majestic flight. Not content with a mere birthday party, Trixie Lulamoon wanted a show. But Lemon Hearts’ constant distractions made everything difficult. “The bun is a good look,” Pinkie Pie remarked while she rummaged through a basket of assorted party favours. “My mother wears a bun.” “Must we discuss Trixie’s bun? It was done for convenience!” “Trixie’s bun is worth discussing.” The yellow mare gave the blue mare a playful nudge. “Hold still a moment, Trix—” “Wait, what? What is this intrusion into Trixie’s equinal space!” Trixie’s eyes, wide with concern, darted to and fro while the prickle of Lemon Hearts’ magic could be felt upon her backside, tickling various unmentionable places. When everything was over, it felt distressingly breezy back there and Trixie’s hind hooves shuffled about, clopping against the wooden floor. “Tada! A tail-bun! Now Trixie has a nice set of buns!” Lemon announced whilst snatching a camera off of the shelf. Before Trixie could defend herself, photographic evidence was collected and Pinkie Pie’s giggle-snorting joined with Lemon Hearts’ playful chuckles. “I want to check out Trixie’s buns!” “No!” Trixie stomped her hoof. “No, everything has gone wrong. Twinkle, no!” But it was too late; Twinkleshine now stood in the doorway, holding aloft a bag of uninflated balloons in her magic. Her head was tilted off to one side and she stared at Trixie in very much the same way a cultured pony stared at a sculpture, a painting, or other great work of art. After a thorough examination, Twinkleshine had only one thing to say: “That makes me gay.” “Twinkle, you’re already gay. Go finish decorating the living room.” “No, no, I think I’ll stand here and enjoy feeling gay, Lemon. I’m attracted to those buns.” “What do I have to do to get you to look at me like that?” Lemon Hearts moved to stand between Trixie and Twinkleshine. She turned about, trying to show off every salient feature of her feminine form while somehow also remaining coquettishly modest. “Show your buns off, you tease,” Twinkleshine suggested in what could only be described as a saucy deadpan. “Excellent idea! Lemon buns will be perfect for the party.” Little Sumac Apple’s attention was focused upon something that Twilight knew he wanted. She also knew that he wouldn’t ask for it, because it was expensive. Educational gifts tended to be on the pricier side for a variety of reasons, such as costly materials. A microscope was made of costly materials—at least, good microscopes were. Stepping closer, Twilight peered at the Tiny World Educational Playset while also noting Sumac’s yearning stare. The Tiny World Educational Playset as it was labeled, promised to introduce foals to the amazing hidden worlds all around them and was recommended for ages ten and up. It came with a binocular microscope that had a camera mount, an aquascope, a book about microscopic organisms, glassware, an incubation chamber for growing samples and cultures, a sonicator, a colony counter, a simple spectrophotometer, an instrument for determining the pH levels of liquid media, as well as a whole collection of tools, instruments, and implements. Twilight’s eyes lingered upon the recommended age. Sumac blew the dust off of the box and it was at this moment that Twilight realised that it had been sitting here forever. It was a neglected toy—though perhaps not a toy. It was not the sort of thing that the typical Ponyville foal would play with. It had been placed on the shelf, forgotten, and left for so long that it had grown fuzzy with dust. “Sumac—” “I was just looking, that’s all.” “Sumac, please. It’s okay to want things.” “It costs too much.” The tiny colt was almost whiny and sounded sad. Twilight looked down at him and when he started to back away, she placed a wing upon his backside to prevent him from escaping. “Sumac, we have to rescue it. Look at the dust. It’s been forgotten, Sumac… or maybe, it’s just been sitting here, waiting for you.” “That seems unlikely, Aunt Twilight—” “Sumac.” Holding out her other wing, she brushed his pale mane away from his face with a quick flick of her primaries. “We’re getting it, and that’s final.” “No… too expensive. It makes me feel bad.” Heaving a sigh, Twilight struggled to maintain her patience. “What am I going to do with you, Sumac Apple?” In response, the colt shrugged, his slight withers rising and falling. He was small for his age, but Trixie defended this by saying that he was just fine, he just had a runner’s body. Studying his face, Twilight could not help but see features of the colt’s father. Normal foals would greedily exploit a generous aunt, but Sumac was not most foals. Thinking about this gave Twilight a bit of insight and she realised that little Sumac was desperately trying to not be his father. He never asked for much, or tried to take much of anything, and thoroughly avoided avaricious actions. “I’m going to get this for you,” Twilight said to the squirmy colt, “and you’re going to share it with Pebble and your friends. You’re going to do science projects. Together.” Something could be seen on Sumac’s face and Twilight wondered if it was relief. Perhaps this was the best way to go about this; make expensive gifts something Sumac had to share. A gift that reinforced friendship was a good gift. “Come, Sumac. We can’t have you late for your own party.”