//------------------------------// // Abby's Road // Story: The Little Curiosities // by Comma Typer //------------------------------// The pride of North Humcolt County is its redwood forests. Even before Equestrian magic graced its landscapes with unheard-of species of enchanted animals and plants, the tall timberlands turned over many myths and legends of mysterious disappearances and mythical sightings. Disregarding that, the forests were and still are undeniably astounding to behold: even the tallest of former humans prove ants compared to the trees of great stature. National parks reserve most of the woodlands, although, over the decades, the county’s commission allowed more than just roads to be built in the forests’ unreserved brothers. Bustling cities never appeared, but small towns flourished among the trees along with the occasional lonely cabin on a lonely road. Such is the cabin Sunny Flare finds herself at the front door of, knocking on it with her hoof. There, the unicorn waits, her ears on the lookout for any hoofstep ringing the inside. The dim reflections on the windows remind her of the pinkening sky above: the sun will rise soon. Magic tinkles in the air and into her ears. Those ears prop up, and her eyes lock in on the fuchsia magic turning the door knob. The unicorn who opened the door looks down on Sunny. She is taller than the visiting student but not by much. The cabin dweller bears the same coat color as her, though the mane is darker and curled. Her cutie mark is an image of the big jewel she’s worn on her sweater for many years in her profession before retiring due to extraordinary circumstances. It takes a few seconds for Sunny to reel from the resident’s steely look before reverting to something more serious. “Auntie Cinch? May I… talk to you?” Fireplace, bookshelves, fridge, and—as stereotypically expected from a woman packing on the years (though Sunny is sure that older mares do it too)—knitted sweaters of her own making. She could see all these through the windows. They completely pass by the cabin and venture farther into the forest. The unicorn pair of aunt and niece trot on the dirt path, meeting the many glorious redwood trees in their majestic forms. Sunny has never seen these in the flesh, this up close, so she cranes her head upward. No need to check the magic plants like the rare bit of poison joke or the magic animals like the casual jackalope. Their sheer skyscraping height, the monstrous shadows they cast, the lofty creases and grooves in the barks…. But a twig snap later—it is her fault—and her mind is yanked back to an unflinching, forward-facing Cinch trotting by her side. “Only our bloodline would give you reason to come here, and I do not believe you would come this far just to greet an aunt,” says Abacus Cinch. That dark and rich voice has never lost an ounce of its principal authority. “Why go through the trouble of finding me?” Eyebrows cross on Sunny’s face. “I wanted to check in on you, see how you are.” The ex-principal shakes her head and fires off a sarcastic smile. “My apologies for not being so exciting to see. I still read, I still knit. I sometimes still do either by a campfire outside. The locations have merely changed. And, before you worry about my funds becoming insufficient, the school board’s hefty severance pay is not yet half-used.” “You’re missing the point, Aunt Abby.” The niece does not notice her own hoofsteps becoming louder, becoming harder on the dirt. “This is the first time I’ve seen you since turning into magic horses. That’s not even the half of it: I’ve spent months of on-and-off searching, researching, asking random ponies on the street… if it went long enough, I would’ve put up an online missing poster. You know that.” Cinch grunts as they keep walking, the forest opening up with the end of the road closing in. “And why would you bother? You can tell that I am not in any serious need thanks to the board’s lucrative offer retirement deal. Besides, I do recognize that I was getting old, maybe even senile, during the latest Friendship Games. Those Games were a sign that my time was up and that new blood must fill the ranks.” “You’re an old hermit making sweaters no one wears, reading decades-old books about outdated Amareican school policies. That’s not the Aunt Abby I know and love.” Her aunt snorts at that, the horse sound blending with that accent of smug authority. “Rarely does a person love who they call a pragmatic, cutthroat opportunist.” Sunny rolls her eyes. “That’s not what I want to talk about… even if you were, okay, a pragmatic, cutthroat—“ “So you admit it?” “Let me finish.” The two do not stop. They keep trotting, their path’s end almost here. “You weren’t exactly the best principal in Crystal Prep, Abby, but at least you had determination and drive. Maybe you trained us to beat Canterlot just so you can feel good about it, but you ended up teaching us discipline and high aspirations—” “Which, as my detractors would say, is not an excuse for my behavior,” Cinch answers pointedly. “Tell me, Sunny, and tell it straight: what exactly do you seek to gain from me at this point? I hold no position of great benefit to anyone. My reputation has fallen off the face of this planet so that schools even outside the state would reject me on sight. Also, let us not forget that it was I who enabled Twilight Sparkle to almost tear apart this world. “Tell me, my dear niece: what is it that you want to gain from someone who is so ready to admit her fall from grace?” Sunny lets a few seconds pass in thought. “Having my aunt back in the land of the living would be great… but I want you to gain something too.” It is the end of the path. The two unicorns stop. A cliff stands at the end of the path. An explosion of color accompanies the rising of the sun, pink turning to star-banishing gold. The valley, its rivers, and the little villages below shine and reflect the morning rays of light. Cinch does not notice the caring hoof on her withers. In the months she has been here, this view has never graced her. Never, until now. “We’re still trying to figure out what to do in this new world. Indigo Zap told me she’ll apply for some elite pegasus stunt team in Equestria after graduation. Sugarcoat is looking into sculpting as a career thanks to seeing a couple native ponies do it on the other side. Sour Sweet’s been at her cousin’s cranberry farm for the past few weeks to self-reflect. As for Lemon Zest… she’s always been a wild card, but I could tell even she is reconsidering things.” “That the Change has changed much is obvious,” Cinch says in reply. “But you know there will be those like me who will merely continue on as best they can.” “For them, maybe that’s for the best… but that’s them, not you.” A couple crickets chirp unseen in the bushes and the grass. They are the last few chirps before the crickets sleep in for the day. “This Change can be a clean new slate for you, Abby. Magic’s everywhere, everyone’s trying out something new. I’m sure you’ll find your place in this world again.” “As if a big change like this would suddenly absolve me of my sins.” She has a point, Sunny admits, the hopeful student keeps on a sympathetic face. “Yes, it will not be easy, but we can start out with baby steps. You could even start with us Shadowbolts… or, at least, start with me.” That is enough to make Cinch whirl her head toward her niece in shock. “You… forgive me?” The answer begins with a little hug on her withers. “I already have, but saying it again won’t hurt.” For a minute, they stand there in that little hug. The sun slowly dawns on them. For a minute, Cinch’s heart is warm and a smile emerges. “At least you stopped being mean and manipulative, which is a start, Abby… but I do not think you should stop there. And I don’t think you should do this alone.” With the hug over, she takes a step back and stretches a hoof out to her aunt. “Come back home to Canterlot City with me. If anyone asks, I’ll stand up for you, and I’m sure the rest of the Shadowbolts would too. “Besides, I’m sure the new principal’s taught them that grudges are too heavy to carry.” With that, Cinch is led away from the cliff, trotting back with her niece. She does not say it, but, to her, a restart in life now sounds better than withering away in some lonely cabin by some lonely road.