Marble has never seen such a beautiful garden, before.
Of course, she doesn't consider herself very well-versed in gardens, to begin with. Plants and stones rarely play nice together, so Papa never keeps the former around. But, for once, it doesn't matter what he thinks. Right now, she is in Canterlot, and the information she needs won't collect itself.
But the garden truly is spectacular. The lawns are delicately trimmed, and the evergreen trees—cypress, but Marble doesn’t know the difference—are evenly spaced. Nearby, the high walls of the hedge maze rise like mountains from the ground. And she loves mountains, of course. Very rich in minerals. The greenery is secondary to her actual reason for coming here, though.
A sculpture garden is nothing without its statues, right?
Moonlight streams down in columns of spotlights, illuminating the gray of her coat every time she steps into one. Not many ponies look at gray things, but that suits Marble just fine. Attention has always been more of Pinkie’s thing. And despite them being open all hours of the day, ponies rarely come to the gardens at night, so it’s quite perfect for her.
Fittingly, most of the sculptures look gray in the dimness. They stretch on as far as her eye can see, like piles of salt from a mine. How wonderful, surely they will be able to help her with what she needs! So she approaches the nearest one—a caped mare holding a functioning flag—and sets a hoof upon its base.
“…hello?” she whispers out of habit. “My name is Marble P-Pie. Are you a-awake?”
There’s quiet, and then:
Oh, you’re talking to me, oh my goodness! Most ponies just look at me, but you want to know my opinion, oh my! Hello, hun! Yes, I’m awake now!
A smile works its way onto Marble’s face. “Mhm… I’m sorry if I’m disturbing you, but I w-wanted to know a little bit about you, if you don’t mind.”
Dearest, I don’t mind at all! I represent Victory, or at least that’s what my sculptor said I represent. Isn’t that nice? A little old hunk of marble like myself, made into a masterpiece for all kinds of ponies to admire. Beats living in the Earth any day!
Lovely rock for carving, marble. Marble herself is grateful her parents chose such a pretty stone to name her after. Of course, she doesn’t think she can ever live up to the standards such a name puts on her, but that’s okay. Marble’s content with not standing out.
“W-Who visits you the most often?” Marble continues, craning her neck to look up at the statue’s face. “W-What are they like?”
There are two main groups, I’d say. I love the schoolfoals the most—usually, their teachers are well informed on how important and special I am, which is always pleasant. Nothing like teaching the new generation! There are also the rich aristocrats and celebrities, but they’re more concerned with my origin and sculptor. I’ve gotten offers you know! Lord Fancypants is very persistent in that regard.
“How w-wonderful,” Marble congratulates, ignoring how her neck cramps from the awkward angle it's in. “I’m so happy to hear that you’re getting the recognition that such a b-beautiful piece of stone deserves. Surely, you’re one of the most p-popular pieces here, right?”
Of course, why wouldn’t I be! There's only one sculpture in this garden that’s more fabulous than I, after all. And he…
Marble patiently waits for the statue to continue, before her brow furrows at the lingering silence. “He…?”
…he’s strange. He’s popular with visitors, yes. But he’s not like the other statues. He’s been here far longer than the rest of us, yet I don’t know anything about his make or material. Isn’t that bizarre?
“Mhm, very…” Marble pauses to think for a moment. “W-Where is he at?”
Over by the labyrinth’s entrance. It’s odd because the Princess has him at the prime location for viewing from her balcony. What’s so special about him that I lack?
“I’m sure it’s a matter of p-preference—you’re still very gorgeous, Ms. Victory.” Lowering her head, Marble nods to herself. “Thank you so much for the talk, I’ll be going now. Have a w-wonderful night.”
You too, honey. But be careful if you go to see him…
“Mhm, I w-will,” Marble replies, lowering her hoof back to the ground. “Thank you.”
Walking away from the Victory statue, Marble glances up at the Moon. It’s not quite full—perhaps in a few days?—but the Mare in the Moon markings are prominent. What are Moon rocks like? Do they have an equivalent in Equestria? Would they be able to help with what her family needs…? Turning a bend in the path, Marble looks down from the sky and halts.
To the left is the entrance to the hedge maze, and to the right is something she’s never seen before.
Long and spindly, the creature almost divides the horizon into two. Standing on mismatched legs atop a pillar encircled by a serpentine tail, it holds a lion’s paw to its chest and a talon extends to its side. Its head, vaguely equine in shape, has its maw stretched wide open. Marble can’t tell if the creature is supposed to be singing, laughing, or screaming; she’s not sure if she’s supposed to know.
Cautiously, Marble creeps towards the statue. Surely this must be him. The creature certainly fits the strange bill. But other than his makeup, he doesn’t seem much different than the Victory statue. They’re both pale in that tell-tale marble way, at least. Not scary at all…
Taking a calming breath, Marble marches to the statue and places a hoof upon it.
Just go ahead and touch me, why don’t you? Didn’t even ask… It’s not like I’m a stickler for rules, but even I know what polite ponies are supposed to do!
Starting, Marble almost draws her hoof away before steadying. “Um, I’m s-sorry. You’re right, that w-was rude of me, I should’ve—”
…how interesting. A pony who can hear me? Perhaps I can forgive impudence, for once. Just once, though!
“Oh, thank you, I…” Marble stops to collect her thoughts. “S-Sorry, I didn’t introduce myself, I’m—”
You’re Marble Pie, I’ve already heard. Please, I may be old, but I’m not deaf.
Blushing, Marble resists the urge to hide in her mane; recognition is so nerve-wracking! “How did you, I w-was way over there…?”
I told you—I’m old, not deaf. As it happens, there’s not much to do as a statue but listen. The thing is, ponies don’t usually listen to me, at least not like this. What gives with you?
“Oh, um, I…” Giving into the temptation, Marble leans into her mane and mumbles something.
You’re going to have to speak up—gibberish is very in line with my ideals, but even I don’t understand it.
“My special talent is stone-speaking!” Marble lets out, face flaming afterward at the outburst. “I, um, I c-can talk to and hear the thoughts of any rock I put my hoof on. I have to actively be listening though, s-so that helps me avoid hearing voices all the time.”
Ah. Well, that explains why I heard you talking to Ms. “Besotted-With-Fancypants” Victory, over there. Absolutely scathing conversationalist, that one. Don’t know what I ever did to earn such ire, I’ve been well-behaved for centuries.
That snaps Marble out of her self-consciousness—such an old stone! "Centuries? How long have you been a-around?"
Far longer than that! But, of course, you wouldn't know anything about me. Who I am is a very hush-hush affair. Celestia is quite boring in that regard.
At this point, Marble has fully emerged from her hair. She’s never met somepony who talked about the Princess in such a manner. A unique temperament that perfectly complements an equally unique exterior. But if he’s been in this garden for centuries, he must be rather important! Excited, she doesn’t hesitate with her next words:
"And w-who are you, if I may ask?"
A low laugh rumbles along the statue’s length.
Asking even after mentioning Cay-Cay’s cover job, eh? How bold. But, if you insist—
The voice makes a noise like somepony clearing their throat.
I am Discord, and Discord means… me! Haha, that’s a clever line to those in the know. Anyways, you should be honored to meet me!
“A p-pleasure,” Marble attempts to curtsey, but it more resembles a bend of the knees. “But I s-suppose I’m not one in the know, then.”
Ahh, don’t feel bad! I’m seldom one in the know, even when it is I that needs knowing! But, of course, there's something you need to know, isn't there?
A crease forms on Marble's brow. "How do you mean?"
The laughing quiets a bit.
Nopony visits at night, certainly nopony who lives in Canterlot, at least. And visiting just to talk to a bunch of statues instead of reading their plaques? Quite unusual… and I make it my business to know things that are unusual.
"W-Well…" A strand of Marble's mane sticks to the corner of her mouth, but she resists the urge to fuss with it. "My family lives far a-away here, on what ponies would call a 'rock farm'. Or at least, most of my family does—my twin moved out quite a w-while ago. Anyways…
"Times have been hard. Maybe they've a-always been, but Papa is a prideful stallion, and I've only learned about the w-whole thing from Mama. Ponies aren't using rocks to b-build houses and dams like they used to. So I thought I s-should use my gift to try and explore alternative markets we could aim for…"
Ah. Well, the nobles of Canterlot certainly have their flights of fancy every now and again. Plenty of bits amongst them are just aching to be thrown at the arts. And who better to ask about what art they're tossing cash at than the art itself?
Marble's eyes widen. He already figured it out? Even without her having to stumble through her words like a fool? She’s always been better at talking to rocks than ponies, but even the former don’t comprehend her that easily!
Feeling something warm in her chest, Marble smiles. "That's rather a-astute of you to catch onto, it's usually hard for me to c-communicate my thoughts very well…"
I understand you quite perfectly. In fact, why don't I make you an offer?
"W-What kind of offer?" Marble tilts her head. "I'm afraid I don't have much to give."
Come back here tomorrow, and the day after that. Do so for however long you're in town. Tell me about yourself, and keep this old guy company. In return, I'll give advice on how to remedy your little problem. Let me give you some now.
Discord’s voice stops, and Marble loses track of how many seconds pass before he speaks again.
You spoke to me because you sought what made me so popular. Well, you'll find no naturally occurring stone is quite like me. And not in that namby-pamby "we're all special" sort of way. No, I'm in a league of my own.
Discord chuckles once more.
But you have other statues to attend to, yes? Go collect your information, and we can talk again tomorrow—I have nowhere else to be, you see. I can't promise that some of these other folk aren't going to be terrible bores, however.
Marble nods. "Mhm, thank you… Have a good night, Mr. Discord."
I do believe I will.