//------------------------------// // From out of the wilderness // Story: House of the Rising Sunflower // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// A lone unicorn approached from the south and had reached the place where stones were gathered. He was small, unassuming, and young—easily mistaken for one of the many teenagers running amok. But he wasn’t, and Sundance could only guess that guards were watching the area for strangers. What precious treasures guards like Olive protected. The visitor almost seemed to limp, perhaps from exhaustion. If he came from the railroad depot, which was a possibility, that was quite a long walk. Gothcruz had walked from Ponyville with a heavy load, but the zurro was shockingly sturdy. Sundance trotted between the works, trying to stay out of the way. Stout earth ponies used massive levers to pry stone blocks out of the ground. It was a bit like pulling teeth, in some odd, weird way, and left Sundance uncomfortable when he thought about it. Quiet worked among them, and though she was young, a filly, she had exceptional strength. Once pulled free, the stone blocks would be examined, their suitability would be determined, and the ones that made the grade would be used to build the gatehouse. Many of the blocks were damaged in some way. A griffon of stout build worked with a group of earth ponies and Sundance watched them as he passed. It was good to see them working together, and Sundance thought of Gage, whom he hadn’t seen much of. The barony’s sole griffon resident was no doubt still getting himself established. Watching the workers working was a much needed reminder for more diversity, and Sundance was determined to have it. Remembering to smile, Sundance closed the distance. The unicorn was a colt—a young colt. Maybe not a foal, but certainly not a stallion. He was out of breath, wide-eyed, covered in burrs, scabbed over with scratches, caked with mud, and had absolutely nothing on him. No supplies, no water, no nothing. Somehow, this colt had survived a harsh, unforgiving wilderness to be here, and Sundance found himself admiring that. “Hey,” Sundance shouted in what he hoped was a commanding voice. “Somepony bring me some water!” Then, in a far kinder, far more welcome voice, he said, “Hey there. You alright?” “I made it!” The colt’s voice was rough, scratchy, and clearly dehydrated. He sat down, or maybe his back-half just fell down from exhaustion. A pleased smile could be seen on his face, and fierce determination glinted in his eyes. “Paradise!” “Hey kid, not sure if you’ve noticed, but this place smells a lot more like Tartarus than paradise,” a nearby earth pony said. “I think I’m going to have my nurse have a look at you.” Sundance eyed the many scabby scratches and couldn’t tell if they came from flora or fauna. “You have a name?” “Sorry.” The colt gulped in a few deep breaths before he replied, “My name is Double Helping.” “Well, that’s an interesting name you don’t hear every day.” When the colt’s stomach growled, Sundance scowled. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell it to you if you let me stay.” “You have a deal, Double… but first, I’m going to have my nurse have a look at you. Catch your breath. I think some water is coming.” Turning around, Sundance used his most commanding voice to shout, “Somepony find Corduroy and get her out here. Now! Like, five minutes ago!” Double Helping told quite a story while Corduroy looked him over and patched him up. The colt had just turned fourteen not long ago, was booted out of the orphanage, and told to enlist. He took the free ticket to Canterlot to enlist, but had gotten off at the railroad depot, because he’d heard stories about the barony in both the papers and the radio. With no food, no water, no supplies, he spent almost a week wandering the wilderness, though the colt admitted that he’d lost track of the days. “...and as for my name, which I promised I’d tell you, my name is Double Helping because I’m always hungry. Or was. I was in charge of keeping the floors mopped and I only found out recently that it was my constant use of magic that left me hungry, and not because I was an ungrateful cuss who didn’t appreciate the Crown-required daily nutrition that I’d been given.” Corduroy’s head swiveled around, her ears perked, and Sundance saw her give him The Look. He was all too familiar with The Look, but at the moment, Corduroy’s sheer ferocity caused him to take a step back. She was angry, or frustrated, or something, and her displeasure caused her jowls to tremble. “So you came here,” Sundance said to the colt, “rather than enlist in the guard.” “Well, it was that, or work in some factory, or whatever.” The colt winced and hissed as Corduroy ripped away a spiny burr. “That stings!” “You’ll live,” was the nurse’s deadpan response. “But… why did you come here?” asked Sundance. “To make my own future,” the colt replied. “And so that I’d never have to mop another floor ever again. I’ll do anything you ask of me, anything, I’ll even wash windows, but never tell me to mop the floor.” Sundance sighed and thumped his wings against his ribs. “How’d you know where to stop?” Corduroy ripped away another burr and a huge hank of filthy white hair came with it. As the poor colt yelped, she patted him on the head, but continued her unrelenting assault upon the many burrs lodged in his hide. “I asked the conductor,” the colt whimpered. “But why here?” Sundance’s wings wouldn’t stop fidgeting, and his back itched. He cringed a bit as he watched Corduroy’s not-so-gentle ministrations, but knew that his nurse had the colt’s best intentions in mind. Pulling burrs off slowly would be cruel torture—pulling them off fast was the only way to remove them. “Why come here?” “I wanted to be a part of something.” The colts teary eyes added a certain sincerity to his words, and as Corduroy ripped away yet another burr, the tears in the colt’s eyes ran down his filthy cheeks. “They talk about you on the radio… Equestria’s last frontier. Just an honest, brave pegasus determined to reclaim his barony from the savage wilderness.” Corduroy snorted. “Kid, we’re in the shadow of the Canterhorn and Canterlot. This is hardly a frontier.” Even as he spoke, Sundance felt his stomach knotting from tension. Why, he’d heard nothing about this on the radio, but reception was limited, and he had no idea what might be broadcast in the big cities. But the fact that some kid had braved the wilderness with no supplies, no preparation, that unnerved him. Once he was healed up enough to fly, he might have to do regular checks of the wilderness between the barony and the depot, so that he might find lost travellers—and not bodies. Bodies would be bad. Double Helping was a fast runner, and he’d hid in a briar patch, but other travelers might end up as food. As for Gothcruz, the zurro had arrived unscathed, and Sundance made a mental note to ask about it the next time he saw the lorekeeper. “Alright, Double… what are you good at?” asked Sundance. “I dunno.” The colt tried to shy away from Corduroy, but such a thing was impossible, and she began to work on the next patch of burrs. “For the past ten years or so, it’s been my job to keep the floors clean, and between that and school, I never got a chance to do much else. Never got my mark. Big Marm told me that you get marks if you join the guard, they’re standard issue. Could I get more water?” Before Sundance could respond, Corduroy did. Reaching out, she lifted the stainless steel ladle from the wooden bucket and held it up to Double Helping’s lips. Sundance saw the gentleness that he knew his nurse possessed, and he hoped that the colt might see her softer, more caring side. But Double Helping drank too much, too fast, almost choked, coughed, and sputtered. Something had to be done. Gothcruz’s arrival brought with it the illusion of safety, but with Double Helping, a different picture had formed. Sundance could feel the tension in his scalp, the sort of tension that threatened to give him a thudding headache. He thought of Hollyhock and her foals; he’d picked them up from the depot and made short work of the considerable distance. But what if Hollyhock—and her foals—had wandered through the wilderness? The thought made him feel jittery, sort of like how he felt jittery when he flew too close to a building and felt bricks against his wingtips. He was having a difficult baron moment; of that he was certain. Sundance feared that his own emotions would trample him. Though he was in control, though he was in charge, there were things beyond his control—such as rampaging owlbears arriving unannounced and dangerous stretches of wilderness. His wingpits felt hot, prickly, and the back of his neck felt sweaty. A fourteen year old colt might have died because of stories on the radio. Refusing to give in to despair, to anger, Sundance chose to be practical. “Did you get any sort of magical schooling at all?” “Yes, actually,” Double Helping replied as Corduroy wiped water away from his now somewhat cleaner chin. “Big Marm had got me some telekinesis training, so I could mop the floors better. I was the only unicorn there,  and she was always pointing out how much it cost her to have this done for little me all by myself, and how important it was to be grateful. And my tutor said that all that mopping made my telekinesis pretty strong… by any standard. It’s a lot of hard work and constant motion.” “I see.” Sundance offered up a perfunctory nod of response. “Don’t get the wrong idea.” The colt licked his dirty lips and then made a disgusted face. He shuddered a bit, Corduroy wiped his chin a bit more, and then he continued, “The orphanage wasn’t awful… it just wasn’t good. I guess it was just a place. We got Hearth’s Warming presents, got a weekly allotment of candy, got to see a movie once every two months, and we never froze in the winter. It’s just… we were expected to work for it. Work got us rewards. My work was mopping the floor.” Cupping Double Helping’s chin in her paw, Corduroy looked down in the colt’s eyes, sighed, and shook her head. “This is an awful, dreary place. It’s cold. There’s no movie theatre for hundreds of miles in any direction. Candy is in short supply. You’ll probably freeze in the winter. You… if you stay here, you’ll see how good you had it. This place seems lively now, and it is, but this isn’t how it is, normally. The work is hard, the food is kind of awful, and entertainment is in short supply.” Watching the workers work, Sundance tried to quell his jitters, his anxiety, and focused on what might come out of this situation. Young or not, Double Helping was a unicorn, and they needed unicorns so that unicorny things could get done. Magic—any magic—was indispensable. Cucumber proved that. Lemongrass was too young and if Paradox was busy, having another unicorn around to do magical stuff would be fantastic. Necessary even. This time, when Double Helping yelped, Sundance barely noticed. “Corduroy… I need you to do something.” “What’s that, Sundance?” “Carry this poor soul back, and see that he gets fed.” “Well, his frogs are bloody and scabby… I guess I can carry him.” “Also… Corduroy.” “Yeah?” “Once he’s eaten, work out your scrubbing frustrations on him. I want me a white unicorn that is actually white. We have visitors… guests… outsiders. We have standards that must be presented. See to those, will you?” “Oh… that I can do!” A hard gulp was heard from Double Helping. “Welcome to the barony, Double. You and I, we’ll talk later. Consider yourself one of us.” “Thank you—” “No, don’t thank me now. Give it a few days.” Sundance smiled a knowing smile. “Corduroy, see that he is sorted out.” “Can do,” the steadfast nurse replied. “As for myself, I’m going to walk around and watch as everything comes together.”