My name is Chaser. Not Lightning Chaser, or Star Chaser, or even Flower Chaser. It’s just plain old Chaser. And that’s what I am – plain. I’ve grown up in Snowfall as the only pony without a cutie mark. The other fillies and colts always made fun of me in school, called me a blank flank. That was a long time ago. Now they tell their little ones to find their talent or they’ll end up ‘chasing’ after their cutie marks forever, like me.
Yesterday, I decided I’d had enough of the veiled insults and sideways glances. Sure, they don’t call me names to my face anymore, but they don’t have to. Everypony knows I know, and no one says anything about it when I’m around. No pony’s really said anything about it in a long time, actually, except for the occasional slip and apology. I’ve tried to take it in stride, but at the end of the day, it’s so hard not to feel like a failure, you know?
The turning point came in a conversation at my job. I work- well, worked- as a cloud keeper at the local weather depot. It wasn’t hard work, but it wasn’t particularly interesting, either. It was warehouse work, moving clouds from one staging area to the next, checking to see if they’re ready to be used or if they need to sit and cool, and making sure lightning clouds don’t get mixed in with the snow clouds accidentally. Lots of forms and footwork.
I had just finished my last afternoon break, and I was heading back in to take a look at the late arrivals for processing, when I overheard Warming Ember and Cloudy Skies talking over by the receiving bay.
“-was just so excited. I was, too, you know?”
“Well, yeah, you should be! Getting his cutie mark is one of the greatest things a colt can do, you know? So he’s an artist, huh?”
“Yeah. His mom’s so proud. I’d hoped he’d be a little more outdoorsy like his old man, but hey, a gift is a gift. He is good with a brush.”
I hesitated, more out of habit than nervousness. I knew as soon as I came around the corner they’d stop talking about it. Warming Ember’s son had gotten his cutie mark. That was great. Another colt who’d found his talent, while mine still eluded me.
I’d waited long enough, and I did need to get past them to work, so with a reserved sigh, I trotted out into their view. Sure enough, as soon as the two of them spied me, their conversation stopped.
“Hey, Ember. Cloudy. How’s it going?”
Ember tried to crack a smile, but it faltered just a bit at the edges. “Hey, Chaser. It’s good. Good-“ he pawed the ground awkwardly “-You?”
“Eh, can’t complain. So, I hear little Broad Strokes got his mark the other day.”
“Uh, yeah. Ye-yesterday morning. He, uh, he was almost late to school, he was so excited… I mean, kids, they get crazy about stuff like that.”
“Uh-huh. So he’s gonna be a painter or something?”
“Uh, yeah, looks like it. His mom’s happy with it.” He chuckled, but it was a nervous chuckle.
“Well, that’s great.” I tried to smile, but all I could really manage was a look of general approval. “I’m really happy for you guys.”
“Um, thanks, Chaser.” He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but near me.
I didn’t need to be in this room anyways. “Well, you guys have a good one.” I trotted off towards the incoming storage room, where I’d be safely alone, to move clouds and check invoices yet again.
The tension in the room evaporated as I left, and I heard Cloudy Skies let out a low whistle behind me. I stopped just outside the doorway, though why I’m not sure. Maybe I just wanted to know what they said when I wasn’t around nowadays.
“Wow. That couldn’t have been more awkward, Ember.”
“Tell me about it. I mean, I feel really bad for the guy. You know what I thought when Strokes got his cutie mark? I actually thought ‘Thank Celestia we don’t have a Chaser’.”
“Ouch, man. I know he’s a blank flank, but really?”
“Oh, don’t tell me you didn’t think the same thing when Curly Cue got hers a year back.”
“…”
“Exactly.” I heard the receiving bay door slide open, and they started to pull in the new clouds. “I mean, if I was him, I’d have left town as soon as I got out of school, you know?”
“Why? It’s not like it’d be any different elsewhere for him.”
“Why not? I mean, here, he’s ‘The Blank Flank’. But outside town, he’d be just another pony. If I had something like that following me around, I wouldn’t want to stick around. I mean, I used to make fun of the guy in school, but now? I just feel sorry for him.”
“Yeah. I guess.”
The rest of my day passed in a bit of a daze. It wasn’t like I hadn’t contemplated leaving before. I’d thought of running away lots of times as a colt. I’d just never really seen that it would make things any better. But Ember made a good point. My infamy was the problem around here, not my lack of talent. I mean, that was still a problem, but out in the wide world… Maybe it wouldn’t be the problem it was here at home.
The thought nagged at me all day. In truth, I didn’t have anything to lose by leaving, and if things weren’t any different? I could just come back home. I wanted to know, though, if maybe it could be different. I hadn’t felt like this in a long while. I felt… hopeful. I decided, against my better judgment, to try something I’d thought I had given up on a long time ago. I was going to find my talent, and get my cutie mark!
I was a bit surprised at how glad I was to tell my boss I was quitting, and I know he was relieved to be rid of me. It’s not that I was a bad worker; I did a good job, and I’d worked hard to be good at it. But obviously, having a blank flank on staff is… well, I was never the social butterfly at work. Or anywhere, for that matter. Everyone would breathe easier not having to watch for me when they were talking.
After leaving my job, I went to go break the news to my folks. I wasn’t really sure how they’d take it. I knew I’d made a fuss about leaving to find my mark during my last year of school, but that had been more for show. I hadn’t had a plan, or any money, or any clue what to do or where to go. Come to think of it, things weren’t much different now. I had a little money saved up (I didn’t really have a lot to spend it on), but I had absolutely no idea what I was doing.
I arrived at the house, and opened the door, hearing the familiar squeaking of the frame that has always needed oiling. My father, Crash Course, says he’ll get around to it someday, but he’s been saying that as long as I’ve been around. Longer, if you ask my mother.
“Mom? Dad?”
“In here, dear.” My mother’s voice floated out from the kitchen, serene clouds in a tossing sea of sound. Mom had always been my biggest supporter growing up, and to this day she still professed her faith that I had a special talent, and that it was waiting for me to discover it. I clung to that thought as I entered the kitchen, and bluntly delivered the news of my decision.
For a moment, after I finished speaking, there was a stillness in the kitchen. My mother almost dropped the cup she was washing in the sink. My father, on the other hand, betrayed no surprise except for a soft twinkling in his eye.
“You… you’re leaving?”
“That’s right, mom. I’m going out into the world to… to find my talent.”
My father pulled back his chair from the table and crossed over to me. He laid a hoof on my shoulder solemnly. “Son, I’ve been waiting to hear you say that for a little while now.”
“You have?” Dad had never made any indication that he wanted me to go. I was confused.
“Yes. I’ve known for a while your destiny was outside this village, but I knew you had to decide to search it out for yourself. I’m proud of you. It’s a big step.”
“I know, dad. Thanks.”
And that was it from dad. He excused himself, and left the room to head upstairs. Mother immediately began fretting over everything in the cosmos. By Celestia, you’d think I was a colt heading off to my first sleepover to see her worry over me while I packed. She asked if I really needed to go so soon, couldn’t I stick around a few more days, what was the rush. It was annoying at the time, but looking back, I have to laugh.
Dinner was a quiet affair, as always. Mother talked about the new family moving into the old Shamrock house, and about the news she’d picked up at work. Father asked me if I had a plan, and I told him I had a dream. That was enough for him, I guess, because he didn’t ask me anything else about it.
In the morning, I said my goodbyes, promising to return once I had found my talent. Father was stoic, as always, and mother tried not to get misty-eyed. They said they’d miss me, and made me promise to write. I knew this would be better for all of us, and was anxious to get some distance between us. They loved me dearly, and I loved them just as much, but as you may have figured out by now, having a child like me doesn’t exactly get other people to love and tolerate you. They had always, always come to my defense growing up, but I knew they’d be better off without me around to remind everyone that they’d raised a failure. I kissed my mom, and gave my dad a hug, and walked out the door, listening to the squeaking hinges one last time. They sounded sad to see me leave.
***
The train station was crowded with the mid-morning incoming from tourists. Snowfall isn’t a big town by any means, but we have lots of snow most of the year (hence the name), and the fact that our village is literally built into a mountainside is kind of a nice draw, so we’ve always got ponies coming in to get away and enjoy the sights. Lots of scenic views and festive musicians… It’s pretty good for the economy, but I’ve never paid much attention to the tourist trade.
Now, as I headed up to the ticket booth, I gazed around at all the new faces. No one noticed me as they disembarked, and I was okay with that. I walked up to the booth, and laid down four bits. “I’d like a ticket, please.”
A russet hoof came down to take them. “Alright, where to… Chaser?” It was my old friend Sunset Vista. I wasn’t near as surprised to see her as she was me. She and I had been pretty close in filly school, but as I got older, and my cutie mark never appeared, we got distant. I’m not sure which of us pulled away first. It was probably me. Anyway, she was one of the only people in town who still treated me as more than a second-class citizen. Now she worked here, at the station, helping people explore all the distant horizon had to offer.
“Hey, Sunny.” We hadn’t spoken in a while, and I felt a little awkward using her old nickname so casually. “Um, where’s good this time of year?” I tried to feign looking at the location board, but I really didn’t have anywhere in mind, and the names and times all blurred together.
“You’re leaving? Whatever for?” She actually sounded surprised, as though she hadn’t been witness to the mockery of my life all these years.
“Do you have to ask?” I couldn’t help but glance back at where my cutie mark should have been. I sighed. “Truth is, I’m going to find myself.” I tried to sound assertive and confident. I don’t think it worked.
“Oh. Well…” She was starting to look a little flush. “Um, lemme think.” She looked at some papers she had sitting on her desk. “Well, there’s a lot going on in Phillydelphia lately…”
“Nah, I’m not looking for a fight. Anywhere a little… brighter?”
She checked her schedule sheet again. “Well, the Crystal Empire just reappeared not too long ago. That’s about as bright as you can get.”
“Maybe a little too bright. Anywhere that’s, I don’t know, a bit more normal?”
“Hmm… How about Ponyville?”
“Ponyville? What’s in Ponyville?”
“You haven’t heard? That’s where everything has been happening lately. Princess Celestia-“
“Wait. Is this the same Ponyville that was witness to Nightmare Moon two years ago, and that Discard guy last spring?”
“Yeah, that’s the one!”
“I don’t know. That’s not really very normal at all.”
“Maybe not, but if there’s a place to find yourself…” She trailed off.
I wasn’t too sure about a place like that, but I figured, with all that going on, they probably wouldn’t even notice one bare-flanked pony amongst all the action. At the very least, I’d have a little more freedom than here. “Sure. Ok. Ponyville it is, then. You’ve convinced me.”
Sunset Vista swept the bits off the counter, punched a few holes in a ticket, and handed it to me. “Here ya go!” She tried to smile, but faltered. “I-I really hope you find yourself soon. You will come back when you do, right?”
“Yeah, I will. Well, gotta go. See ya around, Sunny!” I didn’t stick around to talk. I hoped she wasn’t coming down with anything; that flush was awful bad. We might not have been very close in recent history, but I still liked to think of her as a friend. It was a nice thought; I didn’t have many friends anymore.
I boarded the train, and found an empty seat near the back. As I sat down, I reached for the bag I had packed with the few things that mattered to me. Inside was a picture of my parents, an autographed Ken Griffon, Jr. rookie baseball card I’d gotten as a colt (probably worth a bit, but not as much as I’d ever hope), an old compass from my days in the colt scouts, and the gifts my folks had given me this morning before I left. I studied them now.
My father had given me his old all-weather cloak. Nowadays my father taught Creature Studies at the University, but this cloak was from his days as a monster-hunter, long before I was foaled. It was well-worn and comfortable. It wasn’t his first cloak, but it was probably in the best condition out of all the cloaks he’d worn over his adventurous career.
I put it on with a slight feeling of reverence, as I always had. I’d heard stories of his days hunting hydra and timberwolves and dragons, back before he met my mother. I knew every inch of this cloak- I’d worn it many times as a kid, pretending to hunt monsters with my friends as a colt. That he’d given it to me now… maybe he actually believed in me. Maybe he thought I’d find the monster that was holding my cutie mark and chase it out of him. I smiled, and for once it didn’t feel forced. I noted with maybe a little too much happiness that the cloak covered my flank, concealing its lack of marking.
The second gift is the one I’m writing in now. My mother, Soft Story, has been a journalist for a number of years. That was actually how my parents had met; she’d been doing a story on my father and his brigade, and had accompanied them while they hunted down a rabid manticore in the Nightmist Forest. He ended up saving her life, and she ended up saving his heart, if you hear her tell it. That’s another story, though, and she tells it far better than I ever could. Anyway, she gave me this journal in the hope that, if nothing else, I’d come back with a story. Thanks, mom.
I’m Chaser, a pegasus from the village of Snowfall, and I have no cutie mark. This is my story.