//------------------------------// // Chapter 1: Le début // Story: The Canterlot Adventures of a Prench Stallion // by Gatekeeper1073 //------------------------------// An old stallion was seated in the grass of Canterlots' Central Garden. His coat could graciously be considered a mottled grey with black spots, if you ignored the marks where time had touched his pelt to weather it darker and faded. His mane and tail were wispy things, thin from age and a faded blue in color. He sat upright, his posture perfect and straight. A faded flat cap covered most of his head. A small suitcase was by his side, also faded and with plenty of dents and wearing on it’s own. He sighed. “Ça ne va pas bien. Je pensais que j'aurais trouvé une maison maintenant. Que devons-nous faire alors? C'est exactement pourquoi je n'ai jamais voulu quitter Prance!” The wind picked up for a bit, making the grass sway hypnotically in the breeze. With a sigh, he rose up. He started to lean down towards the suitcase, to pick it up with his teeth when he heard a noise. It seemed to be the crying of a foal, coming from farther into the garden. He turned his head towards the sound, ears swiveling around. After a bit, with no sign of the crying ending, he shook his head. “Non, je ne m'impliquerai pas. Aucun bien ne viendra d'interférer.” He started to leave when he paused before muttering underneath his breath “Mais que dirait Mirabelle?” His tail flicked, irritated, before he let out a groan. “Je jure que cette jument sera ma mort!” Grudgingly, he turned around and headed towards the noise. After walking for a while, he came across a clearing in the garden, where a lake filled much of the space, along with a few benches and a small sandbar. A grey pegasus filly sat near the edge of the water, crying. She had a golden mane and tail, and was looking over the edge of the water in her reflection even as she was wiping tears from her eyes. The old stallion emerged into the clearing. The filly quickly jumped up and looked his way, but kept one of her eyes shut. “Bonjour? Est-ce que tu vas bien? J'ai entendu pleurer et je …” The stallion had started speaking, but when he looked back at the filly he noted quickly that she had a blank stare in her open golden eye, completely oblivious to what he had just said. He sighed and muttered “Idiot. Tu n'es plus en Prance. Il est temps de voir si ces livres ont vraiment aidé.” He breathed as he stepped closer, trying to piece together the sentence he needed. “‘Allo? J'ai entendu… I mean I heard ze crying. Iz zere a thing I can do to… ah… Chère passion, aidez-moi!” He huffed in annoyance before taking a deep breath. “I heard a cry. I want to help. Can I?” The filly looked at him before giggling lightly “You talk funny!” The stallion muttered under his breath. “Enfant, je suis sûr que la plupart du monde dirait la même chose pour toi.” “Whazzat mean?” the filly asked. “It means I agree with you.” the stallion dead panned. “Oh… okay!” chirped the little one The stallion shook his head before asking again. “Why were you crying, enfant?” The filly looked away, kicking the sand as she looked back over the water. “M’not crying.” said the filly “Ainsi a dit la flaque d'eau à la pluie, qu'il n'avait pas d'eau.” the stallion shot back The filly gave him the same one eyed look of incomprehension. “...I do not believe you. I heard you cry.” said the stallion in response “Did not!” cried the filly “Did too!” “Did not!” “Oui je l'ai fait!” “Stop speaking funny!” the filly said louder “Seulement quand vous faites de même!” retorted the stallion “WHY DO YOU CARE?!” The filly finally shouted The stallion’s retort died in his throat. Why did he care, anyway? If she didn’t want to talk about it, that was her business. Not like he had anything he could really do for her, either. Not until he got a proper job and household. But he remembered what it felt like, to shout that same question, and it had no place on a child so young. Not yet, at least. After a bit of silence, the stallion spoke. “Parce que … *ahem* what reason do I need to stop ze sadness?" He paused and looked at the filly. He waved a hoof at a patch of sand near her. "Si je peux?" The filly wiggled a bit, thinking about it before nodding. She didn't understand what he said, but she did get that he wanted to sit down. He ambled over, and sat down with a sigh. They sat for a while, staring off into the water before the stallion gave a gasp. "Dieu, je perds la tête! I am sorry, enfant, I never received your name! Would you tell me it?" He asked. The filly wiggled again before responding. She kept her head forward, not facing the stallion "Um… some ponies call me Derpy but, but that's not my name!" As she spoke she started to shake, and tears welled in her eye "That's not my name but those meanie heads keep calling me it! And they won't leave me alone! All because my eye won't…won't..." She fell quiet, sniffling softly. "… Won't what?" Prompted the stallion. The filly recoiled from him, inching away slightly. "You're just gonna be mean to me too. Everyone else is." With a sigh, the stallion turned fully towards her and doffed his cap, bowing his head to her. "I would never laugh at your pain, vous avez ma parole." The filly took a deep breath before turning to face the stallion, her left eye still closed. "Okay, I'll trust you." She opened her eye, and the stallion saw the pupil slowly drift upward and away from focusing on him. The stallion quirked an eyebrow, but remained silent. "... well?" Ventured the filly "It's weird isn't it. You're just too nice to say anything." She turned to sulk at the water, staring at her reflection. The old stallion chuckled. "Oh petit, il n'y a pas lieu de s'inquiéter. You are, 'ow do you say? Ze perfect pony." The filly turned to look at him, not understanding. "Huh? But, but my eye's all wonky! How could I be perfect if I'm not?" The stallion shook his head and scooted a little closer. "Non, non, ce n'est pas ce que je dis." He breathed and looked at the filly. "Look at me." he commanded. "What iz it zat you see?" The filly focused and squinted at the stallion, her eyes aligning with the intense concentration. "I... see a pony?" The stallion nodded. "Exactement, c'est tout. You see, perfection is a... it is impossible. It iz so different for so many zat zere is no way for it to be possible. But a perfect pony? Zat is easy, because it is to simply be ze perfect you ma chérie." He stood, dusting himself off. "Of course, your eye means zat you will need to work far harder to do zat which ozzers find très facile, but it does not make it, or you, impossible." He looked down at her, patting her head gently before fixing his cap. "You will find your way, enfant, those maudits simply do not know how to grow and are trying to tear you down with zem. Pay zem no heed." He turned to leave and started trotting off, the young filly looking on, a smile growing on her face when she suddenly got up. "WAIT!" she cried as she buzzed her wings and took off after him. "Oui?" He turned around just in time for him to be hit by a grey blur as the filly glomped onto his neck. They stumbled back as his knees buckled, falling back to the sand. She nuzzled him a bit before speaking. "Thanks, mister! You made me feel much better! My real name's Ditzy Doo, what about you?" He chuckled. "les jeunes sont tellement énergiques With a pat of his hoof he dislodged the filly and stood up again before replying. "You may call me Pépé Mirage, ma chérie." Ditzy cocked her head. "What's that mean, Mr. Mirage?" "It means 'Grandfather'." Mirage explained. "Oh. Okay!" Ditzy nodded. She squinted again, and suddenly gasped. "Oh! I know! Ms. Bounty always say to say thanks when other ponies help you out and to try and make it up to them! You should come meet her!" Mirage shook his head. "Non I have a great many things to work on." In perfect synchronization, both of their stomachs decided what was a priority. Dinky giggled and looked at him. "Was dinner one of them?" She gasped, and her wings buzzed, lifting her off the ground a bit. "Dinner! Oh no! I need to get to home!" She turned and looked at Mirage, pulling out a pouting lip. "Will you please come with me, Grandpa? Ms. Bounty will understand why I'm late if you're there." Mirage couldn't quite look away before her large puppy eyes could do their magic. In truth, having just arrived his first priority had been finding work and a place to work. But... Well, a meal did sound like a fine idea. He sighed. "Very well, off we go. Lead on." Ditzy whooped and started skipping ahead. "Yaay! I'm sure it'll be great!" Mirage hoped so as well.