//------------------------------// // Note Of Issue // Story: Split Seed // by Estee //------------------------------// She was the first one up and for a farm kid, that was really saying something. It wasn't a status she was going to hold for long, though. Automatic time off from chores was generally only offered up for her birthday and special occasions. (Some of the winter holidays meant a near-guaranteed chance to simply relax -- but that was mostly just winter.) Being up first generally gave her a chance to get ahead on her duties, and finishing up early would give her that much more time with Babs. That seemed important, especially since her cousin was heading back after the holiday and with no precise definition having been offered up, Apple Bloom was assuming that was going to be the following morning. She could ask Babs, but... the traveler was still asleep, and Apple Bloom had exited the bedroom silently enough to keep it that way for a while. Or Ah could ask Applejack. Ah could ask her exactly what was in that letter. Not that it would probably do much good. Apple Bloom lived with what some part of Equestria saw as Honesty and so she'd learned that as answers went, 'Ah don't want t' tell you' was very honest indeed. She hardly ever tells me anythin'. There had been a few exceptions, but most of those seemed to center on the times when Applejack had absolutely nopony else to speak with. She treats me like a kid... ...Ah'm older now. Kinda. Ah ain't a mare. But Ah ain't a foal neither. Ah'm not as little as she thinks Ah am. Apple Bloom fetched some hay from the pantry, chewed thoughtfully. It usually took a lot of calories to get through farm work, but autumn meant smaller labors and... it was Homecoming. Just pretending to choke some of the offerings down meant leaving a certain amount of space. At least there had been one small benefit to her insomnia: the holiday hadn't gained its usual chance to sneak up on her while she slept. She'd effectively gotten to watch it cross the threshold, all bold and brassy and not caring in the least how she felt about it. And she had slipped into the nightscape eventually, because a not-quite-mare body wasn't up to pulling full all-nighters, but... she was going to need a nap at some point. Which she resented, because naps were for foals, the elderly, and Rainbow Dash. Sooner started, sooner ended. Which felt like something an adult would have said. Everypony else is gonna be up soon enough. Or almost so, because Babs would be allowed to sleep in: guests were permitted that much comfort. And Scootaloo generally wound up with fairly light chores: Applejack wanted anypony living on the Acres to pitch in, but both recognized that the new arrival hadn't grown up in the farming life and was still trying to find things which a pegasus could readily do. Boosting the local Cornucopia Effect wasn't it. Obvs. Or 'obviously' for the ponies who couldn't talk right. It wasn't going to be all that long before the Acres were fully up. And after the usual autumn labor wrapped, the true Homecoming push would begin. Much of that would be isolated to the kitchen, but... There would be waiting. Ah won't wait this year. Ah won't. And good plates. If they just didn't have the good plates... ...jus' get out there. She patrolled the Acres, checked the trees. It was possible to get some late autumn blooms, but it usually meant the Weather Bureau had been scheduling a truly extended session of ridiculously warm weather -- and 'blooms' would be it: nothing ever lasted long enough for the fruit to mature. She was mostly looking after the health of her charges, making sure everything was getting ready for its own slumber. And it was warm enough for a good trot, because the Bureau had boosted the temperature for the holiday. There would be ponies getting off trains all over Equestria, and none of them would be stepping into deep chill. A brief stop was made in the tenants' section. Several pigs said they knew about the food and were within their rights to get all of it. They demanded to speak to her sister, then her brother, followed that with the mayor, and finished up by threatening to get a lawyer. So unofficially, that was another holiday tradition out of the way. There were a few minor cleaning duties around the main barn. She straightened her workshop, because she wanted to show Babs around. There was probably going to be a cousin comment about how the tools could be used to really sabotage a float. Every so often, she would hear the echoes of movement coming from another part of the farm, or catch the echoes as Applejack (who had her own traditions) recited portions of The Tenants' ACTUAL Bill Of Rights to the pigs, at top volume, from memory. But nopony came close enough to speak with. Not until she was finished. And it turned out to be somepony she'd had no intention of speaking with at all. She was trotting towards the farmhouse, almost all the way up to the door. On the verge of getting inside and discovering who was currently tying up the bathroom. With both Scootaloo and Babs on the premises, it was probably about time to consider keeping a few of her things in the lower level's restroom. And then she heard the hooves coming up behind her. A sound which had some weight behind it, but... not enough for an adult. None of the guests were due this early, and the approach was -- slow. Uncertain. Almost timid... ...Sweetie? The thought alone was enough to make her stop, and she began to turn well before the rest of the realization arrived: that the approaching party was too light to be an adult, but too heavy to be a unicorn filly. There was too much solidity there, even if the vector was imprecise, hesitant -- -- you. There had been a time when the word would have been meant as an expression of dread. Standing at the very edge of fear, waiting to be pushed off the cliff. Plummeting into terror, as the intruder laughed. But she was older. And when you got older, some things clarified, turned obvious (obv?) and seemed as if they should have been recognized long ago... but others became confused. She didn't know how she felt about Diamond any more. Her -- 'classmate' was still about as far as Apple Bloom was willing to go -- had stopped moving at the instant the youngest Malus had turned enough to see her. Frozen in the path, about eight body lengths away. She was a little taller these days. Her mane had been grown out somewhat: enough to show off the white streak. Diamond was wearing small saddlebags: barely enough to hold anything at all, and they shifted against her sides as if there was nothing within. And... ...her tiara. Where is it? Diamond didn't have it on all the time. It was always removed before swimming, and just about any other major attempt at athletic activity would similarly see it shed. Much more rarely, she would reluctantly decide it didn't quite go with a dress: this was usually followed by open criticism of the designer's skills. 'Directly to the designer' was also an option, but her father had to be out of the area. You could catch Diamond without her accessory: it just didn't happen often. And this had been a mere trot to the Acres. She was looking at Apple Bloom. Just... looking. No part of that uncertain regard had moved towards the hips. "My daddy sent me." The words had been fairly steady. Almost even. They also didn't seem to require a response, which was a positive because Apple Bloom didn't have one anyway. Diamond's ears went forward. Listening to the silence, under Sun and still air. There was a sound from overhead, like a window nudging open. The natural assumption was Scootaloo getting a glide start on her next chore -- and then it shut again. "There was a mistake," the filly said. "With the jelly sales. Because when your fa --" Stopped. "The last --" Again, and her tail flicked. "When... the contract was updated, between the Acres and Barnyard Bargains... there were automatic lift clauses. Adjustments for inflation. Because a bit isn't always a bit. It'll look like a bit, but it'll buy nine-tenths or worse. And there's been a few new ponies in Accounting. One of them didn't review the right paperwork, and the mistake didn't get caught for a while. You were supposed to get more than you did. So my daddy sent me over with a voucher." It wasn't quite the longest insult-free speech which Apple Bloom had ever heard from Diamond. Classroom presentations existed, and the one about history's earliest-manifesting marks had all of the insults implied. Hoofsteps behind Apple Bloom, distorted through the walls. Somepony was moving inside the house. "And he knows you can't deposit or cash it right now," Diamond awkwardly added. "Not on Homecoming. But he only found out last night. And he wanted you to get the difference as soon as possible, and... he's really busy right now, with Hearth's Warming Eve sales starting tomorrow. So he sent me over. Because..." Trailed off, as head and ears drooped. Her left forehoof scraped at the ground. "'cause?" Apple Bloom asked, and wondered why the sound of her own voice had made her want to jump. "Because there's been a lot going on," Diamond told the ground. "So much that there's been no chance to come over and talk. And he wanted me to tell you that -- he's sorry. That it wasn't sooner. That he hasn't been by. That he's just trying to make it right. He's sor --" The door slammed open, nearly rebounded all the way back before a forehoof caught it. The sound made Diamond look up, forced Apple Bloom to briefly take her eyes off what had once been the enemy so she could glance back. And it wasn't Mac, who did everything possible to control his strength. The sounds of dual impact had come from much lower down. "Get out," stated the Manehattan voice, and did so as the lashing tail added its own portion of accent. "...Babs?" Diamond half-whispered. "Why are you --" "-- I just told ya to get out --" -- and Diamond, ears now flat against her head, tail still and limp -- took a step forward. "I'm delivering a voucher," the pink filly said. "On business. I have to drop this off --" "-- like that's all ya were gonna do," Babs hissed. "Nopony wants ya here, nopony for any reason. Ya need to get a voucher to the Acres, ya know how mail works. Even if it takes a couple of weeks longer than --" The words were soft. Too soft, for Diamond. And yet Apple Bloom heard them perfectly. It was as if the words were the only things which could be heard at all. "-- it wasn't all bad, was it?" Babs froze. "We weren't horrible all the time," the Rich filly quietly said. "I know it. Even if it was just because there wasn't always somepony we could be horrible to. We talked." Her tail was almost on the ground. "You... liked talking to me. Because there were things we could talk about, even when Silver wasn't there. It wasn't all bad, Babs. That's why I tried to wr --" "-- can't charge you down," was pushed out from between Babs' teeth, and all Apple Bloom could do was look from one to the other, waiting for the worst and -- not knowing who to stop. "Same as it was at the train station. Applejack was too close. Pretty sure she'll hear if I do what should be done. Same way she heard when you went all-out, just before I had to leave. And she didn't move then. So maybe she wouldn't stop me -- but let's keep her out of it, Diamond. You can leave. Or it's the same threat as last time. I can just tell --" It wasn't the reaction Apple Bloom had been expecting. Not the sudden sharp rearing up on hind legs, a single hard lash of the streaked tail and the slam of hoofticured keratin into the soil -- "-- you know! I told you, Babs! Because we were talking, and -- I hardly ever tell anypony! You know, and at the train station, you said..." Blue eyes closed, doing so at the same moment Diamond's tail went limp again. And Babs... laughed. It was a sharp sound. Short and harsh, with no true humor in it at all. "Yeah," the Manehattanite said. "I said I'd tell your mothers about your bad attitudes. But that's kind of a problem with you, ain't it? So why don't ya make it easy for me, Diamond? Why don't ya just go do whatever ya have to in order to go tell her yourself?" It was almost exactly like watching somepony being kicked in the belly. Diamond's eyes flew open. She stumbled back. Her features twisted, the tail went wild, and the only difference was that the air rushed into her lungs with the force of a second impact. And as Apple Bloom watched, the refined manestyle was whipped through more than a hundred and eighty degrees as the filly's body blurred into the spin -- -- the sound of the gallop faded quickly. And then there was just an ornate piece of paper resting in the path, half-trampled and sporting a pair of fresh water spots. "Huh," Babs said, and that voice was just a little more normal. "So there was a voucher. Hope it's a big one. Guess you should get that, Appy. Ain't my money." Apple Bloom's eyelids eventually decided to work. "...what did you say t' her?" "You heard me." "Ah heard," the youngest Malus forced herself to go on. "Ah don't know why --" In open satisfaction, "-- nothing which somepony shouldn't have said years ago. But ya know something? I'm glad it got to be me." What happened? What's... ...what happened between... Apple Bloom didn't know. She didn't have any answers. There were too many questions for picking a place to start, and none of them reached her voice. Her only four words were something else entirely. "She's changed..." the filly found herself saying, and it was as if she was watching herself speak the words. Witnessing everything from gallops away. "A little..." Babs thought about it. "I don't think ponies change," the -- former? -- bully said. "The most they do is show you who they really are underneath. Ya wanna get some breakfast?"