//------------------------------// // Memories // Story: Clastic Glow // by Rocinante //------------------------------// Swage plodded down the stairs that led from his bedroom to the kitchen. Reaching for a can of sweet oats, the smell of fresh coffee found him. Looking to the stove he saw a percolator steaming with a cup sat next to it. It struck him as a strangely affectionate sentiment. ‘Why Scootaloo would... No, it’s a school day and she wouldn’t let herself in...’ His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of movement in his shop, the memory of Quench came rushing back to him. He tried to block the thought form his mind, at the very least simply not acknowledge it till after breakfast. Testing the coffee with a tentative sip he sighed ‘Yep, just how I like it’ With two cups of coffee and a bowl of cereal in him he faced the doorless portal that led into the shop. He stood in the door for a moment as he surveyed his shop and decided he needed one more cup of coffee. Returning to the shop with cup in wing he made his way to where Quench sat quietly putting the finishing touches on several projects. He had no idea when the unicorn had gotten there, but it had to of been at least two hours ago. The room had been cleaned and all the shutters opened. His forge had a pile of red coals in it and he could tell all his tool had been rubbed in oil. Standing over the Journeyman he watched him work for a moment. The unicorn didn’t acknowledge his presence though, instead remaining engrossed in his work. “Journeyman,” the pegasus saluted coldy. Quench stopped his work and gave him full attention, but was met with silence. Swage’s gaze scanned the work station. Eventually he picked up a shovel that he had made a few days ago, but hadn’t had time to heat treat yet. The rich blue color of the steel told him Quench had already hardened and tempered it. Now it waited its turn with several other projects to be ground and polished to what ever finish they were destined for. Try as he might, he couldn’t find anything wrong with any of it. /// Quench patiently watched the smithy put the tool back where it had been and walk away wordlessly. It would take him a good two days to catch up on what Swage had already started, but he had looked at the Master’s work ledger; it would be weeks before he could fully catch up on all the work. His talent was in all the little things that needed to be done to metal after it had been shaped by fire and hammer, hardening and tempering in particular was his best topic. If he could get Swage to focus on what he did best and leave the finish work to him, his old friend would have the time and bits to focus on his wing. Of course, getting his old friend to speak to him again would be good too, but he wasn’t going to press that just yet. Today he would be nothing more than the best Journeyman he could be. There had been too many years of silence, guilt, and resentment, to fix in a day. He had forgiven himself, now he had to do what he could to set things right. /// Swage rubbed at his severed wing, it was aching again this morning. Reading over his work ledger, he took to planning out his day. A good deal of what he had intended to do was now in the care of the unicorn. Grabbing up tickets for work he had not yet even begun, he sat about starting his work day. Standing tall over his anvil, he pounded out a large piece of iron. He had pulled the tickets for some of the heavier work that he had been putting off. Yesterday they were big projects that he wasn’t sure how he was going to fold into the workload. Today they were something to keep his mind occupied. His entire world was the little bubble around his forge, consciously blocking out everything more than a few meters from him. As the Master smithy worked his bellows and anvil sighed and rang in an ancient rhythm. The same steady beat that has echoed through every foundry since ponies had learned the secrets of fire and metal. His body moved from memory, he didn't need to think about what he was doing, it was all reflexive. He was trying very hard not to think at all, he knew his emotions would get the better of him if he gave his mind any leash. A sound from outside his self imposed exile crept into his awareness. Between the sounds of the bellows and hammer her heard a chanty hum, something about it boiled his blood. He froze mid swing and glared at the unicorn in the corner. He was polishing something with an absent minded smile, like the glow of his expression would add the the brightness of the metal. /// The sudden silence of the smithy left Quench’s humming the only sound in the room. Startling at the sound of his own humming he looked up to see the smithy’s face screwed up with bitter emotions. The unicorn’s jaw slacked to say something, but instead he just looked back down to his work and continued working in silence. A small sigh of relief escaped him a moment later when the anvil started ringing again. Quench watched the Master out of the corner of his eye as he worked. The pegasus had a angry look, beating the metal more than working it. Most of what he has started that morning was finished and he had been quietly sneaking the pieces from Swage’s work space as he finished them. He intended to start in on them after lunchtime. The clock’s chime only reinforced what his stomach told him, it was in fact time for lunch. Swage for his part hadn’t acknowledged the time, or anything else, since he caught him humming some hours ago. Deciding it would be best if he just excused himself as descreatly as possible, he stood and meekly announced “Lunch, back in thirty.” to the room more than to Swage directly. - - - Lunch had been a well deserved break. The little cafe around the corner had hot tea and cold sandwiches that were the perfect midday reset. Pausing a moment to brace himself before going back in, he opened the door and glided back inside. He was greeted with only the quickest and coldest look when he entered. Another piece sat finished by the forge and he was already well into another project. Scooping up the piece the by the forge as he returned to his corner, he added it to his own pile. Getting ready to start back at it, he took stock of all the things Swage had made that morning: two pans, a stock pot, three door hinges, door latch, an axe, a pitchfork, and various parts for somepony’s wagon. ‘Maybe this won't take two weeks to catch up’ he thought. He had heard stories about how, after they had let Swage out of the hospital, he would just work till he passed out, only to wake up and start working again. If Pigiron didn’t have work for him, he would just make something, melt it and make it again. Some said he had given his soul to the forge. He worked like the possessed and the metal moved before his hammer ever touched it. Now he knew they were right. His friends soul laid in the fire and he was going to pull it back out with his bare hooves. If only he knew how. /// At the end of the day Swage found himself alone in the shop with the unicorn. It had been a very long day. With the tools hung in their proper spots and the floor was swept, he went to his till and pulled out twenty bits. Tieing them off in a pouch he threw it at the unicorn, who caught it with his magics. “You have been paid for the day.” the pegasus announced. Quench gave a small nod “I will be here again in the morning Master Hammer.” “Of course you will.” Swage sighed dismissively as he turned his back and retreated into the kitchen. He waited for the sounds of the Journeyman leaving before collapsing onto a chair, exhausted mentally and physically. He needed to eat, he hadn’t eaten all day, but he wasn’t hungry. Instead he just laid his head on the table. Trying to relax he let out a big sigh, but his breath failed him, it shuddered out as his eyes went wet. Another deep breath and he was sobbing on his kitchen table. His mind far too fuzzy to even sort out where the outburst had come from. - - - Scootaloo ploded her way through the center of Ponyville on her way home. The Crusader attempt today had been to throw a Pinky Pie style party. While it had turned into a fun evening, nopony had gotten a cutie mark for all their troubles. It’s was a little past the foundry’s closing time when she passed by. The lights were still on, on the ground floor. ‘He always shutters the place before retiring for the night, he must still be working on something.’ But as she approached, the shop is was eerily quiet. Looking through a window she found the workshop cold and empty. An uneasy feeling settled on her. Running around back she leaned up onto the kitchen door and looked in through its window. She could hear him even before she saw him. He sat with his forelegs cupping his head crying. It was a hard mournful cry and it paralyzed her. Forcing herself to move she stepped down from the door. She wanted badly to just run in there and try and cheer him up, but she knew the smithy better that that. Still, she had to do something. ‘I need to talk to Quench’ - - - The Ponyville Inn was a clean safe place, but still an odd place for a filly to wander into late in the day. The friendly looking Earth pony behind the desk greeted her as she approached “How can I help you?” “Is there a Unicorn named Quench staying here?” The clerk looked over a large book for a moment before giving it a nod. “Yes. Would you like me to send up a message to him? I’m afraid I can’t just give you his room number.” “Ugh, yea. Tell him Swage’s friend needs to ask him about something” Scootaloo found a quiet corner of the lobby to wait while the clerk trotted up the stairs. It was only a few moment until the Unicorn came back down with the clerk. He was clearly tired and his coat still had black stains from the day’s work. “Hello again” he chirped as he took a seat near her. “You said you were friends, but then he was angry when you showed up last night. Now, I go by the shop and find him crying.” She stopped not having asked a question, but clearly looking for answers. Quench shrank as he listened to her. “We... We were best friends. Grew up just a few houses apart in Canterlot. I was already in my third year of apprenticeship when he got his cutie mark and convinced my master to take him on too.” He paused and looked up from the floor to meet her gaze. “The next two years we lived like brothers. Slept in the same room, ate from the same table.. When I got my Journeyman licence, I stayed nearby. I was going to keep working there till he got his Journeyman. Then we were going to be wandering-Journeymen together, see every inch of Equestria. Hop from one foundry to the next learn everything we could.” His uneasy smile reminded Scootaloo of old stallions telling stories of days gone by. His eyes seemed far too old for the rest of his body. “So, what happened?” she asked. “Three months after I became a Journeyman... There was an accident. The accident. A lug pulled through a large sheet of metal. Swage was right underneath it when it fell. I did everything I could to keep it off him, but my horn cracked under the effort. It hurt. I just couldn’t power through the pain enough. If I could have pushed it just another foot...” As the unicorn’s words trailed off. She tried to imagine herself in a similar situation with the other Crusaders. “But, you still saved his life, didn’t you?” Letting out a long sigh he sank back into the cushions. “Yea. That’s what I tell myself anyway. But Swage... He blames me for the whole thing, and I did too. So, I took a job out west and left before he even got out of the hospital.” A clock’s chime told her she had to be getting home. Getting up to leave she met the unicorn’s eyes again. Still she thought of her two best friends, What would they have done? “Please, don’t give up on him.” She wished she could have said more, but it was all she come up with. Leaving the inn she made quick work of getting home.