“Mister Teapot, my friend, rescuer, and mentor, he has an idea that he calls ‘The Friendship String Theory,’” Corduroy said to her companions, who all had pricked, attentive ears. “A life is a thread and by itself, a thread isn’t very strong. It is easily broken. But twine a few threads together and you have a cord. That’s a little stronger. You can tug on it and it’ll hold. But you get enough threads woven together and you get a rope, which is stronger still. Rope holds the world together. The metaphor continues with things like tapestries and such, but I’m sure that all of you get the basic idea. A single strand is weak, but many strands together have strength. I still remember when Mister Teapot told me this, he had just bought me some ice cream and I was sitting on his back. I was still very little. But his words stick out in my memory.”
“How did you get to be so wise?” asked Turmeric whilst looking up at Corduroy with unabashed adoration.
Without skipping a beat, Corduroy replied, “I’m too young to be wise. In fact, I’m still trying to come to terms with the fact that I don’t know everything. My brain assures me that I do, in fact, know everything, which is problematic. If only there was a cure for youth.”
Smirking, Rustic sat chuckling while giving his companion, Turmeric, a bit of side-eye.
Corduroy’s words had a profound impact upon Sundance, who slowly retreated into his own thoughts. The warm afternoon was cooling off—a sure sign of a chilly evening—and the sun would soon go into hiding behind the Canterhorn. Night came early here in the shadow of the Canterhorn, which was rather like an enormous sundial protruding from the middle of Equestria.
“It feels like we’re twining together,” Corduroy said to her companions. “Almost as if we have some greater purpose. There’s a little crystal tree that has sprouted and here we are. Sundance has proven himself worthy. For whatever reason, we’ve been brought together with a shared sense of purpose.”
“When you put it that way”—a thoughtful frown appeared upon Turmeric’s muzzle—“it does feel a bit more mystical and meaningful. I’m still trying to find my way. Life… I just don’t know what I’m supposed to be getting out of life. Everything went bad… worse than bad, actually… but that led me here… so maybe that’s why bad things happen. I wish I had something better to say. I want to sound wise and meaningful too.”
“It pains me to say it, but I really should be going.” Rustic’s ears dropped, his eyelids sagged, and his face took on a droopy, deadpan expression. “Turmeric, are you sure you’re fine with being left here?”
“Get out of here and go home, you silly noodle licker,” was Turmeric’s lewd reply.
There was a slight heaved sigh as Rustic smiled, then nodded, and in silence came acceptance. Sundance, lost in thought, failed to notice the lingering gaze between the two. He was too busy thinking about Princess Twilight Sparkle’s legacy, and how it tied into just about every aspect of society. The Friendship String Theory was really quite profound, and though it came from another pony, it was clearly derivative of Twilight’s philosophy.
Eyes rolling, Rustic offered up a dismissive wave with his hoof. “Noodle licker—”
“You lick the butter from your noodles before you slurp them. That makes you a noodle licker.”
“What?” Corduroy’s stubby triangular ears pricked. “Who does that?”
“Rustic.” Turmeric pointed with his left hoof. “That guy. Right there. The noodle licker.”
“That sounds like a type of compulsion,” said Corduroy in a matter-of-fact way.
“A compulsive noodle licker.” Turmeric nodded with mock-solemnity.
Sundance, lost in thought, failed to notice any of this. With his eyes westward, his thoughts elsewhere, his mind was on lofty goals. Life suddenly becoming profound was something that only happened in books and movies, in bad Saturday serials and cheap drugstore pulp novels. It kept the reader reading and the watcher watching. Yet, here he was, with his life taking a sudden profound turn. It wasn’t just becoming a baron, but the fact that somepony died, which made all of this quite real. It added to the profundity and gave it a sort of mental penetration that left a mess in the middle of his thoughts.
His mind—now awakened to all things possible—thunk big thoughts. Which was difficult for Sundance. He was not a smart pony, contrary to what others might think. To have his moments of profound insight, he struggled. His seeming brilliance was an illusion brought about by hours of effort and toil. While his friends shared a moment with one another, he had retreated to the vast frontier that existed within and marvelled at the vast, empty expanses to be found.
The sun, Celestia’s glory, settled a little lower.
With his left wing held gingerly over his eyes, Sundance stared westward, watching as the departing airship shrank in size. Turmeric stood beside him; the fussy, fastidious unicorn’s tail flicked at flies that did not exist. Corduroy sat in the green grass, her gaze also westward. The Canterhorn was surrounded by a brilliant flaming glow as the sun settled behind it. It was a spectacular view and Sundance knew as the seasons shifted into summer that the sunsets would only become more vivid and intense. It was a long way down from the tip of the Canterhorn to the horizon, so the lightshow of the sun setting lasted for hours.
Building a barony was no easy task; it required sacrifice and hard work. So far, it had also cost a life. Now, Sundance found himself in a position where he asked others to give themselves over to a cause. How much was necessary? Only so much could be asked from a pony, a creature. Yet, Cucumber had died as he had lived, an example. The old unicorn had given all he had to give, including his life.
Sundance, now more than ever, understood his position. Even so, he knew this was the beginning of his understanding, and that he had a long way to go. He had gone to Canterlot in search of a nurse and found Corduroy. While a nurse was needed, something more was necessary. Something vague, nebulous, something that Sundance was incapable of defining or explaining. It was something so complex that he was utterly incapable of putting it into words. How could he ask another to give up the entirety of their lives for the good of the barony?
And so it was that Sundance found himself wearing the shoes of his distant forbear, Princess Celestia. He managed a small patch of land, while she bore an entire nation on her back. She had, in effect, asked him to give up the entirety of his life for the good of the barony, and without understanding what he was getting into, he had done so. Now he had the task of finding the most extraordinary creatures and asking them to give their lives to do a thankless job.
“Milord…”
The sound of Earwax’s friendly voice pulled Sundance from his thoughts.
“Sire, I don’t mean to bother—”
“What is it, Earwax?”
Sundance turned to look at the three legged mare that he had risked his own life to save. She was dear to him, precious in a way that he could not express. Much to his surprise, she wasn’t looking at him, but at Turmeric. When she pawed the ground with one hind hoof, a sure sign of nervous hesitation, he could not help but think about how she was adapting to life on three legs.
“I was hoping that your friend might do the rounds.” She licked her lips, nervous. “Like Cucumber did. Make sure the fires are lit, see that everypony is alright. I think it would mean a lot. We’re a sad lot… even if some of us aren’t showin’. The last Milord didn’t like us being all sad and miserable if somepony died. We’d get punished. S'posed to carry on, and all that.”
“I’d be honoured,” Turmeric blurted out before Sundance could respond.
Something crossed over Earwax’s face, but Sundance didn’t know what it was. Relief perhaps? A brief moment of happiness? Maybe he was seeing what he wanted to see and it was something else. She was still pawing the grass with one hind hoof while her tail swung from side to side behind her. There was something about her eyes that tugged at Sundance’s soul, and he could feel it as it jostled around inside of him.
“I’ll come with you,” Corduroy said. “We’ll make a date of it.”
“A date?” Turmeric seemed surprised.
“Yeah, a date.” A hint of nervousness could be seen as the diamond dog flexed her paw-fingers. “Just a nice time between friends.”
“I’d like that.” When Turmeric looked upwards, he did so with an expression of worshipful adoration. “Will you say wise things?”
“I’ll try,” replied Corduroy.
“They’re welcoming you into their humble homes,” Sundance said to his friend, Turmeric. “My subjects do not trust easily.” For a moment, he was bewildered by what he had just said, how he sounded, and the words spoken. Subjects? It felt strange, saying such. “They are sharing their grief with you. Opening their doors and hearts to you. They’re asking you to do Cucumber’s job… and Cucumber was their… well, he was their everything. Cucumber lived to serve the servants.”
And died for the sake of his obligation, Sundance thought to himself.
Turmeric licked his lips, his ears fell, his tail went still, and as his head bowed, he said, “Oh… oh… well… I, uh… that’s um…”—he stood there, stammering for a time, lost for words, but finally found his tongue—“I suppose I’d better treat this with the dignity it deserves. Uh, Sundance, if you don’t mind me asking, how’d you get so noble all of a sudden? You’re uh, kind of magnificent right now. Sort of makes me want to swoon, really.”
“I don’t know what you mean—”
Corduroy held out her paw whilst she interrupted and said, “There is something a bit regal about you, Sundance.”
“Yeah.” Earwax said nothing else, but nodded with her ears splayed out flat.
“I’ve been thinking, I guess.” Sundance was about to shrug, but thought better of it, as he didn’t wish to split a stitch. “Acceptance. There is so much that I cannot put into words. Thoughts. Feelings. I mean, there’s a lot inside of my head right now, and I’m too stupid to turn these thoughts and feelings into words. I just lost my retainer. He’s gone. Cucumber was my tutor… my teacher, I guess? I’ve only just started. Without knowing what I’m doing, I’ve had to accept that this is my life now, and that I must ask of others what has been asked of me, and this has me thinking about what it must be like for Princess Celestia. Corduroy is more than a nurse, she’s… something greater for the barony. But I’m so stupid that I don’t know what it is. This realisation of stupidity has been humbling and I am determined to make the most of it.”
Turmeric—his eyes cast downward—looked away.
“There’s no cure for youth,” Corduroy grumbled.
“Turmeric, my friend… please, go see to the needs of my subjects. The dark frightens them. Tomorrow I’ll ask even more of you.” Sundance bowed his head. “I’ll never ask more of you than what I would of myself. This is what it means to be friends with me, I guess. I’m sorry. If you stick around, I’ll only ever ask more and more of you.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Turmeric lifted his head. “I’m here because I want to be here.”
Sundance found comfort in these words.
“I’m here because I wanted to make something of myself.” Corduroy’s girth puffed out and her eyes glittered with keen intelligence. “Even if that something does not yet have a title.”
“Hurry.” Sundance made a gesture with his hoof. “What remains of the daylight is slipping away. We’ll talk more later. Duties and obligations must come first. Earwax, thank you. Do what must be done. As for myself, I plan to watch the setting sun and collect my thoughts.”
“Milord, doesn’t the dark scare you?” asked Earwig.
“No,” he replied as a surge of confidence overtook him. “As the future Guardian of Dawn, I must trust that the sun will rise.”