//------------------------------// // Volume 1: Eruditio - Chapter 2 - Bloom's Books // Story: Legacy: The End of Harmony // by Ficta_Scriptor //------------------------------// Legacy volume 1: Eruditio Chapter 2 – Bloom’s Books Rosa didn’t have a job as such; she helped her parents run their bookshop, receiving thirty bits a week without needing to pay for any bills or rent, and with access to any food within the house. It had once been forty bits a week but book sales were slowing down thanks to the recession across Equestria. Either that, or her parents were helpfully hinting for her to go out and get a real job, even though they’d not come right out and said it. Normally she’d only need to work Monday through Friday from 9:00 until 5:00, but on some occasions there would be deliveries made at the weekend. From her own experience it was always on a Saturday, but for some reason this delivery had to be made on the Sunday. Rosa clambered from her bed to see the royal mess she’d made when she’d come home the previous night. Her quilt had been thrown across the floor, possibly while she slept, and a few books had spilled across her desk. More worryingly, her lamp was now resting on the floor. She tentatively checked to see if the glass had been smashed, fearing the worst. There was a small crack in one of the panes, but otherwise it was still intact. Looking at the state of the rest of the room she pushed her hoof in the air at the mess as if to say, ‘I’ll clean you up later!’ and opened her bedroom door. Right now, she needed to get herself ready and presentable. That and she needed to take care of the mother of all hangovers, all within ten minutes. Her mother was such a stickler for punctuality, right down to opening their shop at 9:00 down to the second. Ten minutes meant — quite literally — ten minutes. She could hear shuffling downstairs and imagined her mother dusting away at every available surface, acting as if the delivery pony would show up, take a look inside, snort with disgust and take his goods elsewhere while muttering about the ‘filth’ he’d witnessed. It was something Rosa would never truly understand. Once in the bathroom she nearly recoiled in horror at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes looked as if they were drooping right out of their sockets, bloodshot beyond belief. Her normally luxurious red mane had somehow gained an enormous parting down the middle, with hairs sticking out from every which way. If it weren’t for her already chalk-white coat she could have sworn that her skin had dropped a few tones. Pressured on by willpower and the likely patronizing talk-down from her mother, (which she half expected anyway, given her appearance) she hopped into the bathtub, drew the curtain and turned on the shower. The warm water splashing against her face did little to alleviate her headache. She led down in the bathtub, wishing she could just lie there for a few hours and relax until she felt somewhat conscious again. She almost got comfortable enough to fall asleep before snapping herself out of it and reaching for the nearest bottle of conditioner. She raised the bottle above her head and squeezed some across her mane, then began to lather it into her hair with one hoof. She washed it half-heartedly, shut off the shower and shook herself as dry as possible. This only worsened her headache. Groaning, she clambered out of the bathtub and grabbed a towel from the towel rack. She dried out her mane as much as she could and rubbed the rest of herself down. She was still slightly wet, but not enough to be particularly noticeable. Grabbing a comb from the sink she went to work, styling her mane back to its usual swirl. Despite her best efforts the hideous bags under her eyes and dazed look were going to be impossible to shake off, at least for a good few hours. “Sweetie, are you coming down or not?” her mother called from downstairs, her posh, high pitched voice grating like horseshoes on a chalkboard. “I’m coming, just a second.” Rosa walked back out onto the landing and trotted slowly down the stairs. Her mother was stood near the base of the stairs, a cloth in one hoof, cleaning one of the shelves with various ornaments sat upon it. Daisy Bloom was a fair, chirpy earth pony with a light pink coat and curly reddish mane that was cut just above the base of her neck. She had exceptionally bright blue eyes and a long flowing tail that Rosa could swear was held upright at all times. Her cutie mark depicted a book, showing her love of reading — which was handy considering that she ended up running a book shop — though Rosa had joked that it should have been either a duster, cloth or a sponge. At least, she’d made that joke once, and would never make it again. Rosa had nearly reached the base of the stairs when her mother turned to greet her with an enormous grin… Which promptly dropped. “Rosa, darling! What on earth happened to you!?” “I, uh… had a bit to drink last night…” “But you knew we had a delivery today, sweetie!” “Actually, I kind of forgot.” Rosa smiled sheepishly. Her mother frowned, looking more disappointed than angry. “Well I don’t—” she began, before the sound of a knock at the door cut her off. “That’s the delivery pony! Oh, we can’t have you down here like this. Go clean yourself up and come back down once I’ve sorted things out with him.” “What point was there in me getting up if you don’t even need me?” “That’s not the point. Now go on! I have things to do.” She galloped back down the stairs while Rosa shook her head and wandered back into her bedroom, diving head first into her pillow. She could hear her mother making small talk with a disinterested pony, probably asking inane questions and trying to sound surprised and excited by every little thing she said. Some ponies in the past had thought her attitude was a means of flattery or flirtation, but it was just her way of keeping up appearances, trying to make herself out to be the most prim, proper and good-humored pony around. Rosa’s mind was cast back to the night before. How had she gotten so drunk? She didn’t remember having that much to drink, but perhaps that was kind of the point. She recalled flashes of stupidity. Ferry tripping over his own hooves on the way to the bathroom. Nico laughing so hard she could swear he snorted cider through his nose. She remembered leaning across towards where Nico was sat… and promptly slapped a hoof over her face. I must have been ogling him like a love-struck filly, smiling creepily in a drunken daze. He must’ve noticed, surely. Was this a good thing then, or a horribly bad, awful thing? Her instincts screamed that it was the latter. She led there for several minutes mentally berating herself when she heard a call from downstairs. “OK dear, if I could just have a helping hoof now please, that would be lovely.” “But… just a few more minutes…” Rosa’s call either went unheard or ignored, so she sighed, psyched herself up and went back downstairs. The Bloom family home was also their shop. The kitchen diner was at the rear of the house while the area where the living room was originally built had been knocked through and extended past the point where the front of the house used to be, creating enough room for the shop itself. Rows and rows of mahogany bookshelves were arranged symmetrically along the room with the main path leading from the front door towards the kitchen diner, with a path veering towards the stairs. There was a space left bereft of any bookshelves at the front of the store, and on a customer’s immediate left was the cash register, sat on top of a desk reminiscent of those used by a judge in a courtroom. Next to this was a set of coat hooks attached to the wall that were supposedly for customers, but only ever seemed to be used by the Bloom family themselves. There were posters and flyers neatly posted on the sides of each bookshelf, advertising the latest bestsellers and stating messages such as ‘Jump into a good book today!’ with pictures of happy colts and fillies reading books in a meadow. Each genre of books had its own sign hanging from the ceiling above it, ranging from ‘children’s’ to ‘horror’ to ‘magic’ to ‘adventure’ and so forth. There was a section at the back opposite the stairs with ‘educational’ posted above it, consisting mainly of books that had been donated from what used to be the Golden Oaks library near the centre of Ponyville. It was easily the least popular section of the shop, often garnering the attention of parents trying to force intelligence onto their children, and prospective students with good intentions who would read about 5 pages before using it as a door stop. Rosa herself was an avid reader, although perhaps that was just because she had to be, living in a book shop for most of her life. In contrast to her feminine appearance and kind nature she mostly enjoyed dark horror novels, especially those by Shetland King and Dülmen Koontz. Her mother now stood near the front door, musing over several packages of books, some of which had been torn open to check that she had indeed received the correct order. She held up a copy of one of the latest celebrity autobiographies and muttered something to herself, possibly ‘the things that sell these days’. Rosa wandered over to where her mother was stood and sighed deeply. “So I guess I’m putting these on the shelves?” she mumbled. “Well if you’ll just wait a moment dear, I’m just checking through the delivery note to see if we’ve received everything as it should be and haven’t been charged for anything we don’t have.” “Wouldn’t it have been better to do that while the delivery pony was still here so then he could get right on the case and do something about it?” “I’ve said this before, Rosa. It’s impolite to do such a thing. Also, it makes a stark difference getting a complaint compared to having it known of on the spot. It means they’ll be much more careful in the future and will think twice before making any errors.” Think twice before making errors? Rosa thought to herself. It’s not like they think about sending the wrong thing and then have to correct themselves. “Well, this package is all accounted for,” her mother chimed. “So this can go at the front end of the magic section.” Rosa held the box carefully under one hoof and began to stroll back to the magic books when her mother called over to her. “Oh and please try not to let this happen again dear. I know you’re only young once and all that, but there’s enjoying yourself and then there’s taking it too far. We have a reputation to keep, you know.” “Thanks for asking me if I enjoyed my night out,” Rosa muttered under her breath. Rosa loved her mother dearly but sometimes found it difficult to like her. They were such different characters; it seemed that their only mutual interest was reading. She knew that she disappointed her mother regardless of how often she had been reassured otherwise. She’d never said that she minded her not getting another job and getting her own place. She’d had the odd “When will we see you bring a nice young stallion home, dear?” a few times, which had only made her distressed, especially given the situation with Nico. Then she’d get the old “I met your father when I was just seventeen and we’ve been together ever since,” as if that was supposed to make her feel any better. She began diligently shelving copies of the latest book of magic spells written by Trinket Sparkle. ‘How to magically improve your health and 100 other helpful tips’ the front cover read. Rosa was occasionally envious of unicorns. Being an earth pony made her feel like she’d been drawn the short end of the stick at birth. She finished up and walked back to the stack of delivered books, some of which were separated from the pile to show that they’d been checked by her mother. She carried on with the task at hoof, sometimes removing some of the older books to make enough room and putting them aside to later go to the educational section. “And once you’ve done that, dear, you couldn’t possibly go see your father, could you? I think he had something to talk to you about. He’ll be over at the training ground as per usual.” “Anything else seeing as how I’m ‘oh so raring’ to go today?” Rosa said sarcastically. “Oh no, I can take care of the rest. Bye now!” And with that, her mother left, leaving no explanation as to what ‘the rest’ even was. Rosa sighed and put the rest of the books back. She then took the empty boxes and parcel paper and threw them into the rubbish bin outside the front of the house. She could see her father later. Right now, she needed food. She walked into the kitchen diner and checked some of the cupboards. There was an array of vegetables, hay, flowers and different types of bread as well as a few containers of her mother’s pre-made soup. Not wanting to spend any time cooking her food she grabbed a few carrots and wad of hay and began to eat them, leaning on the worktop. Real lady-like, she thought. The kitchen diner had a neat line running down the middle of it separating the kitchen area and the table and chairs set. A long oak worktop ran across the kitchen side with white, wooden cupboards above and below. Next to this was a stove, a fireplace and a sink. The floor was stone tiled on this side, a mixture of orange and red pebbles polished to a fine shine. The room was divided by a golden metal strip, and on the other side was an oval shaped table decorated with a flower pot and four chairs placed around it. There were family pictures scattered across the walls and the floor was wooden just like the rest of the shop. Rosa quickly finished her snack, feeling full and content. She checked that the sign on the door had indeed been turned to ‘closed’, (an incident when she was younger saw several ponies attempting to buy things early on a Saturday morning thanks to the sign being turned the wrong way) then set off to meet her father over at the training ground. The sun was shining brightly, nary a cloud in the sky. The streets were more or less empty, save for a few elderly ponies enjoying books in the sun, two mares with sweat bands jogging around the village and some young fillies and colts playing with a ball near the park. Many ponies and their families within the same area of Ponyville knew each other as acquaintances, but even at the best of times Rosa didn’t like to engage in small talk. Outside of Nico and Clover she didn’t have many friends. There were a few younger ponies that she knew and would talk to and play with — mostly foals from families that her parents were friendly with — but she wasn’t eager to go out and meet more ponies her age. She would sometimes talk with the neighborhood dragon, a fearsome looking but entirely docile creature called Spike. His place of abode was near the centre of Ponyville and on the way to the training ground, so Rosa took a slightly longer route to get around it, hoping to miss him completely. She just wasn’t in the mood for him to poke fun at her, which he would surely do if he saw her in her current state. Rosa approached the training ground, essentially a large oval running track of orange stone with several lanes. In the middle was a smaller running strip leading up to a sand pit, designed for long jump events. To the side of the track was a small wooden shack where different sports and athletic equipment were kept. Running around the track at high speed as she approached were three stocky young stallions — two earth ponies and a unicorn by the name of Sparks. She was familiar with the unicorn as he was a surprisingly good athlete, especially for a unicorn. The vast majority of athletes were earth ponies and pegasi; most unicorns were too used to using magic in place of physical labor, such as teleportation and telekinesis spells. Despite being very convenient, this dependence on magic often resulted in physically weak ponies, so Sparks had become something of a phenomenon. Rosa spotted her father stood by the designated start line, a stop watch in one hoof. Speedwell Bloom certainly lived up to his name. At a younger age he was the top athlete in Ponyville and one of the most legendary in all of Equestria. He had won at least a bronze medal in every single Foalympic event he’d ever entered, with over half of those being gold. He even set a world record in the 400m sprint at the age of twenty-three that went unbeaten for eight years. Quite how he ended up marrying Daisy was something that Rosa still found difficult to understand to this day, but she didn’t want to ask how they had met or she’d be met with tips on how to ‘find her stallion’ as well as a slew of unwanted information and awkward moments. He had large green eyes, a grayish coat with a short, light brown mane that was mostly covered by his signature hat, a beige flat-top cap with a gold-colored badge in the shape of a flower pinned to the front of it. His cutie mark depicted a silhouette of a running pony, complete with speed lines behind it. While her father would help out at the book shop from time to time he also worked as a trainer for aspiring athletes. There were around twenty or so ponies living in Ponyville that came on Tuesday and Thursday evenings. Speedwell, while not quite as spry as he was several years back, could still manage to keep up with the best of them, though he made no efforts to participate professionally any more. Something about passing things on to the next generation, leaving glory days behind as just a memory. Rosa wandered up towards him and gave a polite wave. He smiled and tipped his hat. “Hey Dad, I heard you wanted to see me.” “Well that depends… are you gon’ stay awake long enough to hear what I have to say?” Rosa blushed and wiped her eyes. “OK, so I’m a little worse for wear.” This was a glorious understatement; Rosa still felt absolutely awful. “I’m guessin’ you had a good night, though. That’s good.” Rosa just smiled back weakly, hoping for a change of subject. It certainly came, but not in the vein that she’d hoped. “Well I had a little chat with a Miss Petit Déjeuner of the La Chocolat restaurant and I just might have you some part time work, little lady.” Rosa’s smile dropped for a moment before she sheepishly brought back her grin. I guess my suspicions were right, she thought. They wanted her gone. They wanted her to start her own life, get a job, get out of their way, start a family and leave them forever. It was the only possible reason! Her father winced and pursed his lips. “I know what that look means missy. There’s no use tryin’ to hide it.” Rosa instantly dropped the act and sighed heavily. “I j-just… I’m worried,” she stuttered. “I have kind of got the hint that you want me to leave and start my own life but I just don’t know how to start it. I just don’t know…” Her father sighed and shook his head. “We’re not saying we want you gone, Rosa. We just want you to get ahead in life is all. I was lucky. I found my true calling, found my talents and it was easy for me. I just did what I wanted and things kind of fell into place for the most part.” “I’m not sure how this is helping,” Rosa admitted sheepishly. “What I mean is we want to just give you a little push in the right direction. We’re not here to tell you what to do with your life but perhaps you should think about what you want.” Rosa could feel a flow of unprecedented anger come over her. “I know you’re just trying to help,” she said, trying to stay as calm as possible. “I guess I just wish… that you never thought you needed to.” Speedwell paused, looking solemnly at her before stepping closer and wrapping a hoof around her neck. “There’s no shame in needing help sometimes, missy, and just because we want to help you doesn’t mean that we’re any less proud of you. We just want you to be happy, because that makes us happy, see?” Rosa sighed. “I know, Dad. I guess sometimes I just feel like I’m not what you expected.” “You got that right. There ain’t no way I could’ve expected such a kind, well-mannered and respectable daughter such as yourself now, could I?” Rosa leaned back and smiled, this time with the utmost sincerity. “Thanks, Dad. I’m sorry.” “So am I.” “What for?” Just as she’d said that the three athletes had come to a halt, each gasping for breath. Sparks caught his breath quicker than the other two and wandered up to her. “Hey… Rosa, is it? Um… I think we met a few times before,” he stammered. Speedwell nonchalantly turned away and started walking towards the rest of Ponyville, a rather amused look on his face. Rosa rolled her eyes in dismay. “So yeah… um… I was wondering if you wanted to get some lunch, if that’s OK with you.” Thanks Dad… the disgruntled mare thought to herself. Thanks a bunch… Rosa sat at the desk in her room, reading the latest book to pique her interest, a crime thriller called An Equestrian Night Mare. It centred on a pony investigating strange disappearances within the fictional village of Harley, and her friend who had suffered recurring nightmares of being butchered to pieces. She was somehow convinced that her nightmares were some form of prophecy or sign and cast suspicions onto the pony from her dream, but also cast them upon herself by being so persistent to blame somepony else. The disappearances had continued and the investigator had to consider everypony within the village to be suspects, as there seemed to be no obvious connection between those that had gone missing. This was where Rosa was most comfortable. Wrapped up in the world of printed type she could cast her life’s worries aside in turn for caring about fictional characters that existed in her imagination. There were often times when she would purposefully read slowly through the pages and re-enact the scenes in her head over and over. Despite having ploughed her way through countless novels in her life she still felt a tinge of sadness when finishing a particularly moving or encapsulating story. Upon reaching the end of the seventh chapter she slid a bookmark into place. It was nearly 11 o’ clock and she’d have to start thinking about sleeping soon. With a yawn, she turned off her bedside lamp and slumped into bed. Reflecting on her day, the first thought that came to mind was her unceremonious rejection of Sparks’ advances. There was no doubt that he was a nice guy, suitably handsome and strong, as well as polite and well-spoken. He should be the ideal stallion, but there was no immediate connection. Then again, she knew that most of all it was down to her love (or perhaps the right term would be ‘obsession’) for Nico. Sparks hadn’t done anything wrong. He hadn’t treated her like any of those sly young colts she used to know at school. He didn’t spend his time gawping at her and he certainly wasn’t one to think too highly of himself. He somehow reminded her of herself, acting nervously and desperately looking for acceptance from someone he liked. Considering the way she had looked this morning she should have been more than flattered that he’d made a move. As for the look she got from her father, it was obvious he’d mentioned something to him. Talking to somepony about plans to date his daughter? That was pretty bold. She rolled over and covered her face with the pillow. Why couldn’t she just be normal? Normal mares her age went out on dates with attractive young stallions and had fun with their lives. She knew that she was probably wasting her time even considering Nico as a potential colt-friend and was more than lucky that he hadn’t already found a partner for himself. He had a filly-friend once while at school but it hadn’t been anything serious. It lasted all of one month before they broke it off, and neither appeared to even care. “I’m really sorry, I’m just not interested,” she had told Sparks plainly. “That’s... fine, really. I’m sorry for bothering you in the first place,” he had replied with a distressed look on his face. She imagined him lying in his own bed recalling the events of the day, wondering what could have been. She certainly found him somewhat attractive, but still backed right out of dating him without any question. Why? All she had to do was spend some time with him. What’s the worst that could happen? It wasn’t like she had to agree to marry him and have kids or anything. She felt so conflicted. Was it right to date someone you hardly knew and didn’t have feelings for? Should she try and find out once and for all if Nico reciprocated her feelings for him? Perhaps she could use Sparks as a way to try and make him jealous, but would that be right? From a logical perspective? Perhaps. From a moral perspective? Not really. Would it just be a way of trying to convince her parents that she could move on with her life? To some degree, yes, it would. Dinner with her parents a few hours earlier hadn’t been the most pleasant of experiences. Her father had talked about his chats with Miss Petit Déjeuner and how Rosa could do well starting off as a waitress. Rosa had promised to see her very soon to discuss part-time work but in truth was still feeling very anxious about it all. First of all, she didn’t really want to be a waitress and was worried she would just drop the plates as soon as she touched them. Surely unicorns would be more suited to something like that? Her father had also asked about how things had gone with Sparks, to which Rosa’s mother let out an excited gasp, probably imagining the little pitter-patter of grandchildren at the mere mention of a stallion. Rosa explained that she just didn’t see him that way, secretly wondering if her parents thought she was interested in mares. After all, she’d never been in a relationship. Her mother gave her a lecture about letting life lead you along and grasping opportunities, taking risks and living out your life before it was too late. To Rosa, this sounded an awful lot like ‘Make sure you find yourself a nice pony soon or you’ll be doomed to die alone.’ A new job? A colt-friend? All this potential change scared Rosa and yet it was being heavily suggested, nay, enforced by her parents. They’d never made a big fuss over these things before. Perhaps they’d reached some sort of agreement over time, most likely her mother trying to coerce her father to step in and meddle with their daughter’s life. It all seemed like too much too soon. She continued to mull everything over for a few minutes more before giving up entirely, leaning over to turn off her light and resting her head on the pillow. Tomorrow is another day, she thought to herself, wrapping her quilt around her body and getting comfortable. If she bundled the quilt up she could hold it and imagine Nico curled up around her, wrapping his forelegs around her torso. It was what she always did before drifting off, even if it made her feel somewhat pathetic. In many ways, Nico was the one thing that kept her going. That and the faint hope that he was somehow within reach. Despite the fact that deep down, she knew he wasn’t.