//------------------------------// // Hammers and Teacups // Story: The Thessalonica Legacy // by Dashukta //------------------------------// The Thessalonica Legacy Chapter 4: Hammers and Teacups Another gust of wind swept the hat clean off of Rarity’s head. The little unicorn yelped in surprise and leapt, just snatching the brim with her teeth. Her horn sparked and the hat lifted to settle back on top of her head. She checked her reflection in a store window. With another sparkling glow, she adjusted the angle of the somewhat extravagant headpiece. She also took the opportunity to tuck back a stray lock of luxuriant royal purple hair. She struck a pose and checked herself over. Mane styled just perfectly with the proper bounce. Tail with just the right corkscrew curl. Pale grey coat—so pale unfashionable ponies would mistake it for a snowy white—perfectly brushed and groomed. Blue eyes closed just enough to be alluring but not sultry. Mouth with just the right amount of pout. Silk scarf perfectly complementing the trio of blue diamonds on her flank. “Ah, Rarity, you are a vision,” she said proudly to herself, then glanced around to make sure no other ponies had heard her, lest they think her vain. She hummed to herself as she rounded the corner from the avenue which housed her boutique to the one running past the library and off to the west. The top half of the door to library was hanging open, a poster for what must have been the Running of the Leaves tacked to the side. As she neared the giant tree, she heard a cry from within, unmistakably the voice of her friend Twilight. Forgetting her ladylike dignity, Rarity galloped as fast as she could. She burst through the door, a frantic look on her face. “Twilight! Are you alright? I heard you yell, and…” she stopped short, and her expression turned to one of puzzlement “Darling, whatever are you doing?” It was obvious Twilight’s cry was not one of pain or danger, but one of frustration. Open books covered the floor of the library. The little lavender unicorn had arranged them in long, messy rows several books deep and separated only by the narrowest of paths. She was hopping from row to row and book to book, calling out notes and observations. Spike sat on the staircase, a parchment in one hand and a quill pen in the other, trying to keep up with her fusillade. She stopped when she heard Rarity, eliciting a relieved sigh from Spike. “Oh, hello, Rarity,” she looked around her sheepishly “Sorry about that. I’m just a little… frustrated is all.” Rarity cautiously stepped into the library, looking quizzically at the nearest of the books, “I can see that.” She looked at the closest book; the page was covered in an elaborate illustration, “What are you doing?” “Humph. Making a mess, if you ask me.” Spike grumped from the stairs. Twilight ignored him “I noticed something a few days ago and I’m trying to pin down the timing.” Rarity just raised a brow. “Here, let me show you.” Twilight trotted over to the first row of books, and pointed with a hoof “I’ve arranged the books in chronological order. Or rather, I’ve arranged the pictures in them in order from when they were first drawn, since most of these are reproductions.” She trotted the length of the row, “Oldest on the left, counting up to most recent on the right.” She reached the end of the row. “This first row focuses on tools,” she moved to the next row, “This one architecture,” she continued down the library, “This one fashion, and this one farming.” “What about ones that fit more than one row? Or multiple illustrations in the same book?” asked Rarity. “That’s what she was yelling about.” Added Spike from the back of the room, crossing his arms. Twilight’s cheeks flushed “Yeah, I’m getting a little frustrated trying to sort them all out.” Rarity stepped down the row Twilight had indicated showed fashion, looking down at the colorful pages. She couldn’t see what had her friend so worked up. “And, why are you doing this?” Twilight nodded for her to follow “Here, it’s most obvious with the architecture” Rarity followed to the first row of books. Twilight pointed with a hoof “Look at the buildings in this picture” Rarity looked down at the page Twilight indicated. It was a reproduction, obviously, but of a very, very old picture. It was a night scene, with ponies sleeping soundly, some curled up under the stars in a fenced-off pasture, others in simple round-roofed huts. It was pretty, but Rarity didn’t see anything odd about it. Twilight trotted to the other end of the row and indicated another book, “Now, look at this one” Rarity did as instructed. The art style of this illustration was much more contemporary, with a more realistic sense of scale and depth-of-field. It showed a village not unlike Ponyville, with multi-story timber-framed houses. A mixture of thatched and shingled roofs hung low over windows greyed over to represent glass. “They look different,” she said finally. Twilight narrowed her eyes “Exactly.” Rarity shook her head, “But darling, why would that be surprising? These pictures were probably drawn hundreds of years apart. Wouldn’t changes like this be expected?” Twilight moved back down towards the middle of the row, “Yes, of course. But it’s not the styles that have me confused, it’s the timing.” She pulled a couple out of the line and pointed to the spot where she removed them. “Like I said, these are arranged chronologically, and right here something happens.” She stepped to the left, “Before this point, all the houses—and I mean all the houses—are these little huts. The only complex buildings are large castles like Canterlot. What’s more, ponies are just as likely to be living completely outside as they are in a house.” She moved to the other side of the gap, “But, over here, all the villages are made of modern buildings. Here, look.” The two books Twilight had removed lofted across the room and hovered in front of Rarity. Indeed, though both images were drawn in the same style, one showed ponies in little huts, and the other in houses that would have been recent additions to Ponyville. Twilight whisked the books away and returned them to their places in the line, “And that’s not all.” She hopped over the books to the next narrow pathway between the books, “All these rows show the same thing. Simple and rustic before, then suddenly fully modern.” She was growing excited, “And in each case, the change is sudden. And it always seems to happen at the same time.” She looked triumphantly at Rarity, who just stared. “Meaning?” Rarity waved her hoof. Twilight gave an exasperated sigh. “Alright, another example.” She hopped to the fashion row. “What if I told you the earliest clothes worn by ponies were only worn at important ceremonies, and only consisted of simple robes?” Rarity allowed the assumption “And then, suddenly, clothes become more common. Fashion, as you know it, appears almost overnight with top hats and dresses and saddles. And they appear at the same time buildings and houses start to look more modern.” A glimmer of understanding clicked in Rarity’s mind. “So, something happened, then?” Twilight nodded. “What was it?” Twilight closed her eyes. Her head drooped, “I have no idea.” Rarity smiled sweetly, “Well, I think you need to take a break. That’s what I do when I’m stuck for an answer. Just step back, take a deep breath, and clear you mind, as it were.” She picked her way through the forest of books to stand next to her friend “Tell you what; I was just heading over to Fluttershy’s cottage for tea. Why don’t you join me? It will take your mind off of things.” Twilight hesitated, “Oh, I dunnoh. I really should…” “Tut-tut-tut, I will not take no for an answer!” she nudged Twilight towards the door “Now, come along.” “Yes, please! Take a break!” Spike called after them. He looked across the covered floor and sighed “I suppose you want me to clean this up?” Twilight glanced back at her scaly assistant, “Actually, just go ahead and leave them out. We’ll pick up where we left off when I get back.” Spike scampered up the stairs before she could change her mind. **************** From the outside, Fluttershy’s cozy little cottage looked more like a hill than a house. Only the haphazardly spaced windows and the tall, skinny chimney gave a clue to the grassy lump’s true design. It sat squat next to a little brook and was surrounded by a tidy garden overflowing with greens and flowers, now starting to fade with winter approaching, and a simple wood-rail fence. Countless birdhouses and animal hutches seemed to be tucked into every available nook and cranny. It was set away from Ponyville near the edge of the Everfree Forest, so that only the tops of the tallest buildings in town were visible above the rolling hills. It was secluded, but that suited its resident just fine. She was in the garden now, a pretty yellow pegasus with a long, pink mane and tale. She was shy and soft-spoken. Her fondness for animals had resulted in her being the de-facto caretaker around Ponyville, seeing they had sufficient shelter and food. Toward her animals, she was doting and motherly. Around other ponies, though, she was quiet, nervous, and withdrawn. Only her handful of friends knew how to bring her out of her shell. She was just setting a steaming teakettle on a little table in her garden when Rarity and Twilight crossed the little bridge over the brook. With a flutter, she met the two unicorns at the little garden gate, pushing it open. “Fluttershy, darling, so sorry we’re late. I hope you don’t mind I invited Twilight to join us?” Rarity swept into the garden. Twilight followed “Hello, Fluttershy. I… I hope I’m not imposing, am I?” Fluttershy smiled demurely and shook her head “Oh, no. Angel-bunny saw you coming, so I set an extra place for you.” She shut the gate and slowly flapped over to the table. They sat and talked and enjoyed the crisp autumn weather. Or rather, Rarity talked while Fluttershy and Twilight listened, offering the occasional observation or encouragement. Fluttershy had brewed a tea from herbs in her garden, and its aroma filled the air, both sweet and soothing. Rarity and Twilight levitated the delicate teacups and saucers to their mouths and sipped. Their pegasus friend carefully gripped the rim of the porcelain cup with her teeth and tilted her head ever-so-slightly back while balancing the saucer on a hoof. Rarity was just finishing a story involving the most recent escapades of her little sister, apparently the mischievous little filly and her friends had made quite a mess of the bolt of cloth Rarity had loaned them in an attempt to make their own hot air balloon, when Fluttershy noticed Twilight staring intently at her teacup. “Twilight? Are you alright? Is… is your tea alright?” she asked softly. “Hmm?” Twilight looked up, “Oh, no. The tea is wonderful, Fluttershy. I was just… thinking.” Rarity peered over the rim of her own teacup “Don’t tell me teacups suddenly appeared all at once, too.” Fluttershy looked confused. The unicorns hadn’t told her about Twilight’s escapades in the library. Twilight smiled and shook her head. “Oh, no. I don’t know about that,” she paused “But I guess it might be related. Somehow.” “Well, go on. Get it off your chest,” Rarity prompted. Twilight held the cup aloft with a glow, turning it around in the air. “You ever wonder what this little curly-cue on the side of the cup is for?” Fluttershy looked curiously at the floating teacup “I guess I never thought about it,” she looked at Twilight, “What is it?” “I don’t know. It looks like the one on the teakettle, and you use that one to hold the kettle when pouring the tea.” “I always assumed it was for holding the cup when the tea was too hot” Rarity added. “Then why is it up-and-down? If it was for holding a hot cup, wouldn’t it be easier if it was side-to-side?” Rarity sputtered. She didn’t like being corrected. Fluttershy bit her lip. She hated even the slightest possibility of an argument. “Perhaps it’s just decorative?” she offered, quickly. That explanation satisfied Rarity, to whom style was second-nature. It did mean the teacups stylistically matched the kettle. Twilight sighed and agreed that was the most logical explanation. Relieved that no argument was forthcoming, even if one hadn’t been likely in the first place, Fluttershy took the opportunity to change the subject. “So, Twilight, how about you tell me all about your problem at the library?” Catching a concerned look from Rarity, she cowered. That look told her she may have just made a big mistake. Rarity whispered to Fluttershy under her breath “I brought her here to get her mind off that.” Fluttershy blushed “Oh? Oh… really? Um… I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean… um…” Twilight had heard every word. “It’s alright. I’ve been thinking about it this whole time. But, thanks anyway, Rarity.” She launched into as best a description of her findings as she could muster. She described how she had first noticed the discrepancies in her books and how she spent days pouring over every illustration she could get her hooves on. She described the apparent sudden appearance and stagnation of pony architecture and technology. Rarity objected vociferously to the idea of stagnation in the realm of fashion. “Ok, perhaps ‘stagnation’ is too strong a word.” Twilight allowed, “Fads and trends come and go. There are definite regional styles. But you have to admit, the basics are there, and they show up all at once. The change on either side of the, um, event are much more drastic than anything since.” Fluttershy listened patiently, trying to absorb Twilight’s meandering account. She had trouble following some of the terminology, but felt she was getting the gist of it. “So, um, how long ago did this, uh, ‘change’ happen?” she asked, finally. Twilight shrugged, “Near as I can tell? About six hundred years ago, or so. It was after Nightmare Moon was banished, I know that much.” Rarity nearly spit out her tea, “Six hundred years?” She was incredulous. “Goodness!” Fluttershy’s big eyes grew impossibly wider. Twilight just nodded. “And that’s not all. Remember the teacup? Well, since I’ve started looking, I’ve noticed a lot of little things like that, things that just seem a little… odd… you know? Almost like they weren’t made with ponies in mind.” “What do you mean ‘not made with ponies in mind’? Who else would they be made for?” “I don’t know. I just said it seemed odd.” She thought a moment, “But they’re all little things, like hammers and nails.” “Hammers and nails?” Rarity asked. “Uh-huh. Don’t you think it’s odd that when we want to drive a nail, we hold the hammer in our mouth and swing our neck like this?” she pantomimed swinging her head like she had seen Applejack do the previous day. “It’s a good way to hurt yourself. Spike can use his hands to hold a hammer. Somehow that seems a lot more… natural, you know?” Fluttershy nodded with understanding, but Rarity just looked confused. Being a unicorn, she had always relied on her magic to do most tasks requiring a measure of dexterity. Twilight looked to her friends wondering if any of them could offer any insights or sudden epiphanies. They just looked back with a mixture of wonder and puzzlement. She suddenly felt very much drained. Her shoulders drooped. “I dunnoh. I feel like there’s something there, but I just can’t. I just… can’t.” Fluttershy put on her most soothing face, “Oh, you’ll figure it out, Twilight. You’re the smartest pony I know. If any pony could figure it out, it’s you.” **************** That night, Twilight was alone on the topmost balcony of the library tree. Perched high atop the tree, with only the topmost bough above her head, she put her eye to her telescope. With a faint glow, the tube tilted ever so slightly and the focus knob turned. She was fed up with her illustration study. Hours more of searching through pictures had gotten her no closer to understanding the nature of what she was seeing. She was stuck. She needed a beakthrough, some inspiration from an unexpected source if she was going to make any more headway. But for now, she was tired of it all. She didn’t want to think about it anymore, so she’d come up here. Stargazing was a hobby that always made her feel better about things. The cool caress of the night air, the pale glow of moonlight, and the faint twinkle of distant stars always seemed like the perfect recipe to unwind. She took her eye away from the telescope and took in the whole night sky. She traced the ghostly arch of the milky way, and counted the stars on Orion’s belt. She was just thinking of where next to direct her telescope when something caught her eye. High in the southern sky was a star she had never seen before. No, it wasn’t twinkling. Could it be a planet? No. With surprise, she realized the point of light was moving, and fast. A shooting star then? No, it didn’t leave a trail, and it didn’t disappear like a meteorite would have. It couldn’t be a comet, there was no tail. Whatever it was, already the mystery light had moved several degrees, passing several stars and forcing her to turn her head to keep it in view. She thought for a moment to call for Spike to fetch her astronomy books, but he was long since asleep and she dared not take her eyes off the speck. She wondered if Owlicious was around. The owl occasionally served as her nocturnal assistant when she was up late, but the bird had proved unreliable and she hadn’t seen him in weeks. Almost prancing in place with anticipation, she watched the speck intently until it finally disappeared below the horizon far to the southwest. In a flash, she was down the stairs hunting for her books. The trials of earlier that day were gone from her mind. She had a new mystery to solve now. She had never seen a phenomenon like that in the night sky before. She couldn’t even recall having read about such a happening. Working by candlelight, she pulled her usual astronomy book from the shelf and began pouring through it with abandon. Not finding anything there, she cast it aside and grabbed another. When she exhausted all her astronomy books, she moved on to astrology. When those failed, she searched out books on ancient prophesy and legends. As she was no longer focusing exclusively on illustrations, her pool of books was rather large. Spike found her later that morning, sleeping soundly atop a pile of open books. She had finally passed out of sheer exhaustion.