//------------------------------// // 9. Weather Watch // Story: Out of Love // by Carapace //------------------------------// Not since Sure Stroke’s first days in Respite did Aspire find it so difficult to keep his eyes from constantly flitting back to another pony. No, it wasn’t that he looked at them, worried that they were terrified of his fangs or that they’d never acclimate and accept the friendship of he or his fellow changelings. A small mercy, really, that little Hail Storm and Sunshower could be won over by promises of sweets from the best bakers in town, enough that they might open up and chat with him, and with that precocious little nymph, Cordial Tidings. But it didn’t change what Sure Stroke had told him at lunch just a day prior. Aspire slowly wandered about the classroom while Abacus lectured, a two-fold job his mentor gave so he could observe the flow of a lecture from a more adult perspective first-hoof, as well as offer a helpful ear should any foal or nymph find themselves lost and in need of guidance. Well, really, it was three-part. The third came on Sure Stroke’s request, and with Abacus’s blessing when he’d learned some of the details. Even as he paused to nudge Pumpernickel’s shoulder and fix her with a stern look, flipping her book to the proper page after muttering a light scolding to pay attention and not doodle—oh, the irony—Aspire found himself casting a quick glance across the room at the young fillies seated by their friend. They were attentive enough, that much he did appreciate greatly and hoped would rub off on Cordial, and they didn’t so much cause trouble as they did giggle and delight in the nymphs’ antics. Both had performed admirably on their algebra test, in stark contrast to Cordial, yet again, and hadn’t missed a homework assignment since joining the class. But there was something a little off about the way they carried themselves or sat when they thought no one else was looking. Or, rather, when Aspire snuck a look out of the corner of his eye. Let it not be said that he hadn’t learned discretion in the past two years. Those handy tools he used to tease his girlfriend and catch her gaze lingering on some supplies at those Manehattan art stores were now put to good use noting each little tick, each tell in those little fillies’ posture. From the way they would let their bright little smiles falter, to their occasional lapses of attention. As well as the way Hail Storm would sigh and let her ears droop, or Sunshowers pale yellow wings with orange-tipped feathers would rustle and let a hoof wander to the ice blue ribbon in her mane. Aspire blinked. Had she always worn that ribbon? He paused in mid step, his sky blue eyes flitting to Hail Storm to find a matching ribbon at the end of her fluffy white locks, binding the ends together in a short tail. A style rather vaguely reminiscent of the ponies of Emerald Isle, if he recalled his books properly. Perhaps the fillies’ parents were of similar descent? With a gentle tap of his hoof against Pumpernickel’s book and one last mutter of warning, he began to work his way around the back of the class as if to walk up their row, but stopped to watch for a few moments. Just a little longer to see whether or not it would affect their listening to Abacus’s lecture. A chance flick of his tongue brought the taste of sadness, yes. Just as he expected.  What came with it, though, was a sudden kick of concern, like a twist of lemon and lime in the mix. Aspire turned his gaze to Cordial Tidings, his brows raising as noticed just a flash of the young nymph’s forked tongue along the edge of his mouth. Then, without lookin away from the front of the class, his tiny, hole-ridden leg was held out in silent offer of comfort. An offer both fillies readily accepted. And as though the touch of his hoof lifted some spell, so too did it raise their spirits. The return of sweet happiness and affection nearly earned an approving hum from Aspire, though it did make Cordial look away from Abacus for a bare moment to share a small smile with his friends. Had they told him already? Or did he know well enough that his friends’ hearts ached but held the decency not to pry until they were ready, like a true Caretaker? “Aspire,” Abacus called, drawing him out of his inner musings. With a casual smile, the changeling looked up to meet his mentor’s eye. “Yes, Abacus?” “Would you mind taking the algebra lesson again?” he offered, stepping aside to surrender the podium. “You seem to have quite the knack for the material.” All eyes fell upon him. Oddly enough, there was a hint of relief and joy—genuine joy in the announcement. They did seem to like his way of explaining things. A credit to so many sessions helping Vector, Zephyr, and, of course, his girlfriend. Aspire smiled and gave a little bow of his head, trotting toward the front of the class with a confident swish of his mess tail and ears standing tall.  There was plenty to be gleaned from his little observation walk, plenty to address during lunch hour or recess. He’d start with the fillies themselves. It took some time for Aspire to figure out how to properly broach the subject with Hail Storm and Sunshower. Pulling them aside during lunch felt a bit unfair. Or perhaps it was more uncomfortable than unfair. For them, at least. That time was meant to be theirs, to enjoy with their friend.  Friends, Aspire amended quite happily, when he noticed Cordial Tidings nudge a young colt named Star Bolt and Flit, the other nymph who’d danced with them at the Summer Sun Celebration, and called them over to form their desks into a table and enjoy lunch together. Then came Pumpernickel, sheepishly adding her desk to the end nearest Hail, earning a round of welcomes and desk legs scraping against the floor as they were moved to accommodate the filly.  It would have to be recess hour or after school. Not exactly a winning situation either way, especially if they went scampering off as soon as the final bell rang. If there was one  thing he’d learned from Sure Stroke, it was that there were few things that could catch a pegasus in air when they wanted to move. And changeling wings weren’t built for that kind of speed. There was a reason they shifted to chase down their friends in flight. So when Clanger’s bell sounded out to send the younglings out to the playground and all the students hurried toward the door, the young nymph in Aspire blew the most obnoxious raspberry at what a stuffy adult he’d grown into as he called to them, “Hail Storm, Sunshower?” He saw two sets of ears perk up, one dusty blue, the other pale yellow. They turned to meet his eye, curiosity written plain upon their   faces. Aspire offered a small smile and tilted his head toward the window, out to where Sure Stroke’s old tree stood. “Would you mind taking a walk with me? I have a couple questions about your homework.” The changeling didn’t need to flick his tongue to realize he should’ve chosen better wording. The twitch in their ears and vanishing smiles did enough to tell him so, as did the nervous rustle of their little wings. With a mental kick to his backside, Aspire hurriedly added, “Nothing wrong. Just a question or two about the way you both learned a couple steps. I haven’t seen them done quite like this, so I’m a little curious.” Hail Storm bit her lip and shared a look with her sister, their faces creased with a touch of awkwardness. Then she turned her gaze to  Cordial Tidings. The young nymph smiled brightly beneath his cherry red bangs. He leaned in to mutter something to both fillies, his voice low so Aspire couldn’t hear a peep, just watch as the pair relaxed their wings and allowed tiny smiles back onto their faces. Then his red eyes flitted to Aspire, flashing with … warning? Aspire blinked and very nearly faltered. For a moment, he saw Esalen and himself standing beside the little nymph, and Sure Stroke with the fillies. Had they been so protective too? Who was he kidding? Of course they had. Sure Stroke was their Doodle, no one was allowed to scare or tease her without their leave. To his relief, the fillies turned to face him again, their smiles back in place, even as Cordial slipped out the door to follow Flit out to the playground. “Sure, Mister Aspire,” Sunshower replied. Hail Storm rustled her wings a little. “We didn’t realize there was a Respite way for math.” Her cheeks coloring, she ducked her head and added, “There seems to be a Respite way for a lot of things.” Oh, we’re really through the looking glass here, Aspire mused. With a merry waggle of his ears, he trotted to their side and gestured to the door with a little wave of his hoof. “After you, ladies,” he said jovially. “I think we could all use a little sun.” The instant they stepped through the doorway and Aspire felt warm sunlight upon his carapace, unfiltered by the window, he let his eyes flutter shut and let a deep purr of approval rumble within his chest, earning quizzical looks from Hail Storm and Sunshower. Rather than bluster, he simply grinned. “You’ll notice changelings tend to act a little like cats sometimes,” he joked. “My girlfriend likes to make that joke sometimes when my sister or I start purring when winter ends and we don’t feel like our carapace is going to crack in the cold.” Sunshower snorted. “What?” she asked, goggling at him. “You’re kidding!” Aspire turned slowly and fixed her with his most serious look. “Does this look like the face of a changeling who’d lie about such a thing?” he asked gravely. “You’ll learn if you’re around for winter. All your classmates and I will be wrapped in so many layers, you’ll think it’s an invasion of fluff.” Casting a conspiratorial wink, he added, “A good snowball is a great way to get even for any tricks, but don’t tell anyone you heard that from me or I’ll get it from every Caretaker in the village!” The fillies giggled and tried to hide their smiles behind their wings, but the sweet, cotton-candy fluff of their mirth still danced upon the tip of his tongue. “Cordy didn’t tell us that,” Hail Storm said, her eyes alight. “But he was awful quick to carry on about our feathers fluffing and ruffling the other day.” Oh, was that ever familiar? “Well, keep that one between us. Think of it as some friendly advice for a little winter time fun.” “Maybe. But he’s been nice.” “Teasing us about whether or not we could dance until he and Flit got us into that circle, but nice,” Sunshower added. She flicked her tail, glancing up at Aspire with a tiny frown. Her eyes shone with something. Dawning comprehension. She stopped in mid step. “You didn’t call us out about math, did you, Mister Aspire?” He had to give her that one. “No, I didn’t,” Aspire admitted with a nod. “I was actually wondering how you two were doing since coming to the village.” Pausing in his walk, he turned to look back at them, his eyes flitting between the fillies. “If you don’t mind, of course. I do apologize for misleading you, but I didn’t want to make a big production of things in front of the class.” Sunshower’s wings rustled nervously yet again. In her eyes, he could almost see a want to search out her friends, but the filly stood her ground. “Okay,” she muttered softly. She took another couple of steps, returning to his side. “What did you want to know?” “Nothing too much, really. Call it a bit of teacher’s curiosity, mixed with growing up in the village greeter’s house.” Aspire resumed his walk, steering toward the old tree, his design two-fold—they could see their friends and be seen in turn, a more subtle means of keeping things familiar for them. He would’ve wanted that for Sure Stroke during her early days.  As they reached his girlfriend’s old doodling tree, he allowed himself a fond little smile at those old memories and made to sit down, gesturing for them to join him as he said, “You seem to have made a nice little group of friends.” “They’ve certainly helped,” Hail Storm replied. She sat down beside Sunshower and leaned back against the tree trunk. “Cordial Tidings and Flit have been hanging around a lot since the dance, though Cordy a little more so.” The corners of her mouth twitched. “He’s funny. Never seems happy unless we’re laughing at one of his jokes or trying to chase him around because of one.” Sunshower groaned and threw her hooves over her face. “Don’t remind me! I’m still supposed to be mad at him over how he got us chasing him all over town, while he just sat in Sweet Treat’s shop, happy as can be, and ate cake while watching through a window!” Aspire couldn’t help but snort. “Who did he shapeshift into?” “Pumpernickel,” the fillies deadpanned. Chittering, he shook his head. Clever nymph. Though, that does help explain why Façade’s grade book shows him at top of the class for his assignments. Perhaps a student who needed the right motivation. Interesting, indeed. “Any idea why he might have decided to pull such a gr—terrible trick,” he hastily amended as he caught the matching looks of indignation they shot him, looks ruined by the smiles tugging at their lips. Through the looking glass, indeed. “No,” Hail Storm replied sweetly. “Because the reason the little zap beetle gave us is a complete load of cloud fluff.” Her sister flicked her pale orange tail across the grass. “That is being very generous about it.” A load of cloud fluff? Aspire arched a brow, humming a low note. Now there was a fun turn of phrase found only in true Cloudsdale pegasi. “I’m almost afraid to ask. But I will. What did he say?” They rolled their eyes in near perfect unison and chanted, “You silly featherbeds looked soooooooooo dull and dreary just staring out the window and sighing! I had to do something!” It took every ounce of his self-control not to grin and cackle. Aspire fought hard to keep his expression neutral, betrayed only by the slightest glint in his eyes. One his closest friends and girlfriend would’ve picked out in an instant, but the little fillies? Not so much. “Well,” he said slowly, “I suppose it’s only fair to ask if you had fun in the end?” Hail Storm wrinkled her snout and looked down at the ground. “Yes,” she replied, a hint of grudging to her tone. “After he spent a good ten minutes hiding behind Peppermint and bribed us with cake if we agreed not to smack him.” “And did you?” “You’re the one who introduced us to her cakes, Mister Aspire.” The little filly arched a snowy white brow. “You already know the answer to that.” Of course he did. But it was only polite he ask. Chuckling and shaking his head, Aspire turned to Sunshower, chancing a quick flick of  his tongue to taste fondness and the distinct taste of, interestingly enough, chocolate. Her happiness. Another flick yielded Hail’s, her own white chocolate. How interesting. “So, you both get along with Cordial quite well.” Aspire paused to raise a hoof. “Random tricks aside. Sunshower shrugged. “The tricks are fine. I don’t mind them.” “Even if he is a little pain in the flank when he sets his mind to it. Him and Flit both, the little jerks,” Hail added, her smile robbed the words of any real heat. “They’ve …” she trialed off and bit her lip, her eyes flitting toward her sister for a bare second.  In that single second, Aspire timed a flick of his tongue to taste it, and promptly fought off the urge to retch. There it was, just as he knew, from Sure Stroke, it would be. Sadness. A deep, deep ocean of it, laying just beneath the surface of both fillies, ready to drown them in a tidal wave before they could think to take flight for safety. Cordial Tidings must have noticed too. Was that why he’d looked at Aspire with such heat in his eyes? Like he was warning him away from being the catalyst for a tumble into that dark chasm? “They’ve really helped,” Sunshower finished for her sister. “Flit, too. Even Pumpernickel, those Mint twins and Maple and his boyfriend, and Sweet Treat and Abacus.” Pausing a moment, she turned to meet Aspire’s gaze, and offered a weak little smile. “We really owe you and Miss Sure Stroke for that, don’t we?” “You don’t owe us anything,” Aspire replied with a firm shake of his head. “We’re happy to help any who come to Respite seeking help. Whatever the reason. And, personally—” He smiled and leaned back with a sigh, relaxing against the tree like he had with Sure Stroke just a couple days prior “—I think hearing you’ve made friends is enough to make us happy. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled, too.” “She was nice. Our moms seem to like her.” “They like her a lot from what I can tell,” Hail corrected. The filly tilted her head and fixed him with a quizzical look. “Why the interest, though? Is this a thing everypony—” “One,” Sunshower corrected almost tiredly. “You know Cordy will start up if we don’t say ‘one.’” “Then I’ll smack him when I catch him! Anyway, is this something done for everypony who comes to the village? Why? Well, that was a simple enough question to answer. Aspire took a deep breath and looked out across the playground, his smile fading just slightly. “In a way, yes,” he admitted after a moment’s silence. “But for me, no. That’s not why I’m interested. Well, not the main reason, I should say.” The fillies stared blankly, perplexed by his wording. Or, rather, how evasive it was, he realized after a moment’s thought. A look he’d grown quite fond of seeing upon another young pegasus’s face over the years, admittedly. It was little Sunshower who broke the silence. “Then, what’s the big reason if not that?” she asked, tilting her head to the opposite side. Again, he saw Sure Stroke sitting with them, a hint of amused irritation showing in her deep blue eyes as she drew in a deep breath through her nose and puffed up her cheeks at him in that adorable little way she always did. A sign that he’d better give her a straight answer, or he’d better be ready for a wing to be swung at his head and begin his preventative measures. By love, did he miss when they were all smaller, when they did nothing but go to class and play all day. With a heavy, fond sigh, Aspire closed his eyes. “Because I remember a little filly who came here, scared out of her wits and nervous to even be around me because of what I was, especially when she got a look at my fangs,” he said softly. “And you both remind me a lot about her. So, call it a soft spot of mine.”  “Miss Sure Stroke, right?” Hail Storm asked. “Cordy and Flit told us about how scared she was when she first moved here, and she said something about it before the dance. And then you started dating.” “Oh, there was a lot that happened before and during that.” He chuckled. “I nearly made things worse, a lot worse, in fact. If not for her giving me a second chance, I wonder if she and her family would’ve stayed, let alone if we’d have started seeing each other.” Aspire cracked open an eye and gave them a sidelong smile. “My sister was ready to throttle me for that one. Though, come to think of it, that describes her, Doodle, and most of my friends any day ending in a ‘y.’ So maybe not a great metric.” “Doodle?” they asked in stereo, wrinkling their snouts. Aspire chittered. “Our little nickname for Sure Stroke,” he explained. “I called her by it in front of you that first night, remember? She used to pretend she hated it when it’s not just us together.” His eyelid drooped, he fixed them with a crooked smirk. “Kind of like how you two pulled faces when you told me Cordial calls you featherheads, actually.” Sucking in their lips, the fillies’ wings unfurled to hide their faces. Or, more to the point, their sheepish grins. “Don’t tell him!” Sunshower squeaked. “He’ll only get worse if he knows!” Hail put in. Of course he would. He was a changeling, after all. Then again, there was little doubt he already knew. Aspire had caught him flicking his tongue or running it along his lips plenty of times today alone. If he didn’t, Aspire would eat rotten fish and wash it down with lemon juice. Two options lay before him—on one hoof, he could let them go on unknowing their friends’ empathic tasting. On the other, Sure Stroke would almost surely tell her if she were in his place. Although, somewhere in the middle, he had to wonder if Cordial Tidings and Flit might plan to broach the subject themselves, easing them into things like he and Esalen had done with Sure Stroke two and a half years prior. Perhaps that was the better idea. “Well, I certainly won’t give away any secrets,” Aspire said solemnly. “On one condition.” Their eyes wide, he gestured toward them with a little wave of his hoof. “If you two have any questions you aren’t sure you feel comfortable asking your friends, come see Abacus or me. Or Sure Stroke would probably love to help, since she’s been in your horseshoes before, and I’d say Queen Euphoria and Cool Breeze if you have any big ones we can’t answer for you.”  Smiling warmly, he turned to face them fully, looking straight into their eyes. He wouldn’t make it a deal. Free advice and setting up a pair of little fillies in need to talk with the right villagers was hardly subject to deals. “Can you do that for me?” Hail Storm and Sunshine turned to share a look, locking in silent conversation. Apprehension gripped Aspire’s chest like a snake coiling a mouse. Had he pushed a little too much? It was a small mercy when they turned to face him again, small, nervous smiles gracing their lips. “You and Miss Sure Stroke did help us feel welcome at the dance, Mister Aspire,” Hail said first. “If not for the two of you, I don’t know if we’d have gone over to have cake and met Cordy and Flit.” “And it would be nice to talk to somepony—someone who’s gone through this.” Sunshower rustled her wings, adding, “And the same teacher who helped her get through it all.” Aspire managed to disguise his relieved sigh behind a smile and a little roll of his shoulders. “Thank you, girls. Now—” he cast a meaningful look out at the playground, where Cordial Tidings was galloping away from the others as fast as his legs could carry him, cackling his head off “—it looks to me like your classmates are playing Catch Clever Clover, and Cordy’s it.” His smile turned vulpine and showed teeth. “Why don’t you two go see if you can’t get even for that trick he pulled?” The wicked gleam in their eyes was matched only by their smiles. The fillies all but leapt to their hooves, flaring their wings out wide before taking to the sky. “Just you watch us!” Hail Storm called back over her shoulder as they shot off like a pair of arrows from crossbows, aimed directly at their unsuspecting friend. Cordial Tidings didn’t stand a chance.