//------------------------------// // Quiet mercy // Story: House of the Rising Sunflower // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// The precious time spent with Amber Dawn called to his attention something that he lacked in his life and now, as he stood scanning the skies, Sundance made a desperate attempt to distance himself from the loneliness that had long been his companion. Story time had been interrupted by the announcement that a griffon was incoming, but not the griffon he expected. Cucumber had told him that this griffon had visited once before, last summer, and had been told to leave. Something about a business issue with the previous Milord. How Potato knew they had a visitor incoming was anypony’s guess and Sundance had to squint to make out the faint dark speck that could be seen in the vast blue expanse overhead. “Cucumber, any advice?” “Advice, Milord?” “Well, What did he want the last time he was here?” Still squinting, Sundance watched as the speck grew in size—perhaps a mote. “I don’t rightly know, so I don’t.” The old retainer blasted out an acerbic snort and then leaned in a bit closer to Sundance. “The previous Milord thought he was here to steal, pilfer, and plunder. I don’t think that was the case at all.” With a turn of his head, Cucumber cast a sidelong glance at the pegasus to his right. “Warms my heart, so it does, watching you with that filly—” “Don’t go getting sentimental,” Sundance said to Cucumber while also returning the side-eye. “She’s gonna have issues, that one. It’s like she’s competing with her mother for attention and everything about the situation just rubs me wrong. Hollyhock dated some real winners, it sounds like, and some of them were less than kind to Amber Dawn. A part of me wants to go have words with that mare… stern words.” “A good sorting out, Sire?” “Yeah, but I won’t.” After a few short, sharp breaths, he added, “I like her a whole lot less now after talking to her daughter. But I can’t act on it. I mean, I want to. Trust me, I’d like to ask her just what was she thinking exposing her daughter to the sort of guys that’d do… well, what they did.” “Worse could have happened—” “Cucumber, don’t remind me.” “Sorry, Milord. If I may… it is reassuring to see you angry over this.” “Is it?” Flicking his tail, Sundance turned his head so that he could look his retainer in the eye. “Decency feels as if it is in short supply, Milord. The very fact that you are bothered by all of this, but that you also want to do what is best for Hollyhock shows promise, so it does.” Deep lines furrowed Cucumber’s brow as the retainer shuffled his weight from left to right. “My advice? Talk to the griffon, Gage is his name methinks, and find out what he wants. Griffons have a shrewdness for business matters, so they do. Bringing home Corduroy was a right smart move.” “Thank you, Cucumber.” There was a lot that Sundance wanted to say, but with a guest incoming, he kept it short. “This is hard… I mean, I knew it was going to be hard, but I didn’t… or maybe couldn’t understand how hard it would be. Stuff like this… what do I do about stuff like this? Doing right is hard. Now, I’m not one to criticise my mother, but I have a pretty good idea of how she’d handle this, and that feels wrong. This whole thing with Amber… it’s shown me that I really don’t know what I’m doing, and it’s shaken my confidence, Cucumber.” The old retainer’s face wrinkled up like a prune left too long in the sun. A bee went buzzing past, but Cucumber ignored it in the way that only old, prune-faced retainers could. Shuffling closer, his ears somehow stood at attention, the rigid erectness of a pony a good seventy-five years younger, or thereabouts. “Sire, if I may… you have the right to judge others. That’s what being the Milord entails, so it does. But that doesn’t mean that you should. In my long, long life, I’ve heard plenty of stories and tales about ponies and the deeds they do. All that’s fine, so it is, but I cannot help but wonder about what they didn’t do. Mercy is a quiet thing, Milord. It doesn’t make a good story and the best sort of mercy is the kind that nopony knows about, because everything was kept real quiet like. Sure, you could be angry with Hollyhock about the mistakes she’s made. She might even deserve it. Maybe she needs a good chewing out.” Here, the old pony paused, drew in a deep, wheezing breath, coughed briefly, and then continued, “Or you could be merciful. The only ones that’d know about it is me and you. Like I said, mercy is a quiet thing, so it is. Nopony else will ever know about what you didn’t do. This quiet greatness will go unnoticed. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go do my rounds.” “Before you go…” “Yes, Milord?” “Thank you, Cucumber.” “Don’t mention it, Sire.” Bowing his head, Cucumber retreated, his knees crackling. The griffon was quite unlike any griffon that Sundance had ever seen. Black, almost appearing to be wearing a tuxedo, and an oversized orange beak. A vastly different bird type than the typical eagle or hawk or whatever it is that most griffons were. Not being a griffon expert, he didn’t know. Sundance was pleased that his visitor landed on the runway, because it was a good runway, and he hoped it offered a good first impression. Too bad he could do nothing about the smell. “Greetings, and welcome to the Sunfire Barony. I am Sundance. How might I help you?” For a moment, the griffon seemed overwhelmed, perhaps because he was not expecting such a friendly greeting. Sundance wondered if he had said too much, or was too forward. Perhaps a more subdued hello might do well in the future. Maybe he needed a greeter, but with his luck he’d get somepony a bit too perky and everypony knew how annoying super-perky greeters could be. “Gage, right?” Sundance stood rooted to the spot and watched as his visitor folded his wings. “I understand you had poor dealings with the previous caretaker of the land. I’d like to apologise for that.” “I had heard this place was under new management,” the griffon said. He bowed his head low, and then, while he lifted it, he maintained confident eye-contact with Sundance. “Caught me off guard. I don’t know what I was expecting. Perhaps to be cursed at and asked to leave.” “All are welcome here.” Sundance wondered if he meant the words he just said. He had said them. They had just come blurting out on their own. He wanted to mean them—because they were good words, just the sort of words that the world needed right now. “So what is it that you came here for?” “I came here last hoping to establish a business,” Gage replied. Behind him, his tufted, feather-tipped tail undulated from side to side, perhaps from nervous energy. “I wanted to set up a farm for giant albino cave shrimp.” “Giant albino cave shrimp?” Sundance, perplexed, blinked a few times. “Yes, they can be farmed, but you have to have just the right set up. I’ve already found such a set up on your lands. A perfect place, actually. I live in Canterlot, and I work for a butcher. He’s been good to me, he pays me well enough, but every day I work, it is his business that prospers, and that is a day lost to my own ambitions.” In acknowledgment, Sundance nodded. “As a business, this will not make much money to start. In fact, I am going to have to sink every last bit of my savings into it, if it can be done. I’ll be poor for a while, but that’s fine, because I know things will work out in time. Once I get established, I’ll be able to pay you rent. But I know this will work! Trust me, it will! There’s lots of creatures in Canterlot that are carnivores and meat sources are scarce right now. If I can set up my business here, I’ll be right on Canterlot’s doorstep and my goods will be so much fresher than the stuff they bring in from the coasts.” “Let’s not talk about rent.” Sundance, solemn, did his best to look noble, whatever that was. “What do we need to do to get you established?” “You’ll help me?” Gage seemed genuinely surprised. “Well, right now, lots of really good and nice ponies are helping me, and I am dependant upon their kindness. Everything I currently have is because of their goodwill and charity, along with my own hard work. Turning you away would be hypocritical, I feel.” “Well, that’s…” Gage’s claws flexed and tapped against the stone. “Reasonable?” Sundance allowed one eyebrow to rise and in the back of his mind, he wondered just how much was he like his great-great-great-grandmother right now. “You’ll be farming food and that’s a precious commodity. I am of a mind to allow many creatures on my lands, and I’ll need a means to feed them. There’s already Corduroy, a diamond dog, but she’s a vegetarian. Yeah, I know, I was surprised too.” “That’s not something you hear every day.” Gage’s head tilted off to one side in a display of avian pique. “If I am to be a farmer, food will be easier to deal with than money.” “Good, it’s settled then. I’d like to see your spot. I still don’t know my own lands very well. I just haven’t had time to do a thorough exploration.” “It’s only reachable by air… which might have been part of the problem with the previous lord. There’s a crack where the mountain splits and down deep in the crack, there are a series of flooded caves with water that stays warm. This land is full of boiling springs.” Nodding, Sundance couldn’t help but feel excited. Some flying might sort his head out. There was just so much to think about, chief among them being quiet mercy. What it meant to be good. Doing right. Helping others. Growing his barony. Gage, it seemed, had arrived at just the right time. A part of him hoped that the word would spread and others would come. Why, he could be a refuge—not just for ponies, but for all in need. He wondered how his peasants would feel about that. This was their land and he was just their caretaker. Corduroy certainly had a warm welcome, all things considered. “Living standards are pretty rough at the moment, though I hope that changes soon. More housing will be built. Canterlot is well over a hundred miles away, and while you could keep living in Canterlot, I don’t think you will. You are welcome to stay with us, and to be one of us. Right now, being one of us kind of stinks.” “I plan to live where I work,” the griffon replied. “A wise farmer lives on his land, or so I’ve read. I don’t actually know what I am doing, but it is said to be quite simple. The shrimp take care of themselves. Oh, this is exciting.” “We have something in common… I don’t know what I’m doing either. I’m glad you came to me, because it spares me the trouble of trying to reach out. We are few here, and I am tasked with increasing our numbers. I really don’t know how to do that. The other night, before I went to sleep, I thought about standing on some street corner in some city and asking passersby if they wanted to live on a barony that reeks of rotten eggs. For some reason, I don’t imagine that ending well.” Gage seemed thoughtful, his eyes bright, and his tail slowed it’s fretful movements whilst he stood there, pondering. After a few moments, he said, “These are rough lands… perhaps the wildest part of Equestria. These mountains are a stronghold for the wilderness, and with the Everfree to the south… you know, there are griffons who would want to live here. There is a certain satisfaction in hunting and living off of the land. Perhaps place an advertisement in some of the newspapers?” “Newspapers?” Sundance wondered why he hadn’t thought of that. This struck him as a good idea, and something he would give some serious consideration later. Would his peasants be happy with a large population of griffons in the mountains? That remained to be seen, but if they saw them as protectors, that might make the griffons welcome. A good shake was all that was needed to be free of the sudden deluge of his thoughts and Sundance spread his wings in anticipation of flying. “Show me your site, Gage. Daylight is a-burning.” About twenty-five miles as the pegasus flew and Sundance found himself in one of the many secret places his barony had to offer. From above, the crack could hardly be seen. One had to fly in low, and only then would one see the narrow crevice between the evergreens, an opening of maybe two or three yards. But once one dropped into the crack, the ground opened considerably. The stone had been dissolved, or perhaps eroded by the constant run of water. Each side of the crevice was slick, dark with moisture, and growing things clung to the rock. Lichens? Sundance didn’t know what everything was. The floor of the crevice was several hundred feet straight down, perhaps one-hundred and fifty to two-hundred yards in total. Not much light reached down here, very little light in fact, but there was life down here. A sort of fungal marsh of sorts existed. Giant mushrooms grew and fungal growths clung to the walls of the slimey, flooded natural basin. There were caves down here where the water drained away, and it was quite warm. It was also quite eggy. The heart of the marshy morass was tarry with some pitch like substance and Sundance wondered if it might be some kind of flammable liquid, like naptha—something he knew nothing about, but knew of its existence. How had Gage found this fantastic place? “I’d like to make this home,” the griffon said to Sundance as he perched on a narrow shelf of stone. “There are some dry caves higher up I might settle into, or I could construct a suspended shelter that hangs in the middle, away from the wet. A lot of the mushrooms are edible, I’ve already checked, and many of them are quite delicious. They’ll fetch a pretty price in Canterlot.” Sundance found himself a place to land and did so without embarrassing himself. “The waters that flow into the caves are nutrient rich. A lot of stuff falls into this crack and then can’t get out. They can’t fly like we can. The last time I was here, some kind of big cat had fallen and died. I saw its bones over there.” The griffon pointed with his claw to a place overgrown with fungal growth. Squinting, Sundance wasn’t sure if he could see the pale white of bones peeking out from beneath the fungus. There were bugs down here—the sort of life that depended upon death. He couldn’t imagine this place being a dream to aspire to, and yet here he was with an interested griffon who wore an unmistakable, overeager expression that could be seen, even with his enormous, oversized beak. Tilting his head back, he looked up. Down here at the bottom, the crevice was wide, quite wide in fact, but he could see how it narrowed overhead. At the top, there was the narrow maw of an entrance. This place was sheltered from the elements and he imagined that it would be quite warm in the winter, but also unbearably muggy come summer. The only way out was to go up, making this place secure. It would make a fine home, if one didn’t mind the conditions. “So, do you think you can make this work? Can you be a shrimp-farmer? Will you be able to construct a shelter and somehow turn this into a meaningful business?” Gage’s claws scraped against the stone where he sat. “I hope so. It is a lot of work. Probably more work than I realise. But I am sick of working for another and getting so little for myself. I’m prepared to be miserable if that is what it takes to get what I want.” “Well then… welcome to the Sunfire Barony. We’re glad to have you.”