The brightly colored vardo moved along slowly into Ponyville under cover of darkness, pulled by an aging earth pony. The tired old pony sighed as he hauled the beautiful red and yellow wagon into the town. The oil lamp above him gave off just enough light to navigate the darkened streets and cast shadows along the carvings of various different ponies of mythology that adorned the vardo.
His employer had hoped that this place would be welcoming, but long years on the road had convinced him that each and every place they stopped wouldn't harbor them for very long. His employer was a thestral after all, a creature of the night, and while the ponies of Equestria were ruled by both the sun and moon not all of them could set aside their fears.
"Here is fine, Old Muscat." came the thickly accented voice of his employer from inside the wagon. "This place is more than good enough."
Muscat had never really considered where the accent was from, though he guessed it was a mixture of many. They had traveled many places together and it was obvious that his patron had wandered all his life. The old earth pony finally came to a stop and pawed at the ground quietly, then looked up at the building he'd stopped by, reading the sign: Sugarcube Corner.
"Come inside and rest, old friend. I will tend to things while it is still dark enough for me to do so without scaring the locals." The thestral said as he opened the door of the wagon and stepped down to the ground. His coat was like ash, wings a deep black, and his mane was black with dark azure colored streaks through it but his most interesting feature were his golden colored eyes. He stretched his leathery wings, unfurling and spreading them wide for just a moment before bringing them back to rest at his sides.
Muscat nodded, completely unphased, and pawed at the ground again. He wasn't about to argue and he could certainly use the rest. "All right then, Gypsy." He said, looking at the ashen coated thestral. "Try not to cause any trouble while I'm resting, eh?" A grin touched his lips briefly as his patron moved out of the way of the entrance to the wagon and once he was completely out of the way he moved to step inside. "Goodnight."
"Yes, goodnight to you, old friend." The ashen stallion replied before turning to take care of his home, a light in an upstairs bedroom in the building behind him flickering to life unbeknownst to him.
-------
Pinkie was excited. She could feel that slight tingling she always felt when there was someone new in Ponyville.
New friends! She thought blithely, the smile that started on her lips easily reaching her eyes. She was so happy that she could almost laugh. They're just outside!
The cotton candy maned pony bounced down the stairs effortlessly, somehow not making a single sound each time her hooves touched down. She knew, deep down, that this was going to be great. She always liked meeting new friends, new friends meant parties. Parties meant smiling, laughing, and enjoying the very best that life had to offer. Pinkie loved making friends.
She bounded across the floor and stopped by the door, peeking out at the strange pony. He had a short black and blue mane, possibly swept back with oil.
Oh, oh! Rarity would probably like that. Pinkie hushed the knowing giggle rising in her chest and studied the stallion a bit more. The mysterious pony's tail was cut short and matched his mane; he had an ashen grey coat and a book cutie mark with some kind of ornate gold clasp around it. She wondered about it briefly before she caught sight of his wings and her breath caught in her throat. She could hardly contain herself; Pinkie Pie just had to meet him now.
-------
Gypsy sighed inwardly and finished hitching the wagon. He was happy for the cool autumn air, Nightmare Night would be coming soon and he thought that if he were lucky enough to still be in Ponyville when it came he might get to meet the Lady of the Night. He had heard rumor that the lunar princess visited Ponyville the year before and hoped for a repeat appearance.
The ponies that lived under Celestia's sun were mirrored by the thestrals that lived under Luna's moon, and her people truly loved her. He smiled looking up at the moon, the soft light reflected in his golden eyes. He had a good feeling about this place and he'd heard so many good things. This will be a good visit, he thought. He was sure of it.
A sudden click and the sound of a door opening ended any further thoughts and he spun around to find himself staring into a pair of large blue eyes. "OoooOOooo!" came the high pitched cooing sound. "Look at your eyes!"
Gypsy blinked out of his daze. Whoever this mare was, she had no idea what personal space meant and before he could respond she moved to his side and tugged one of his wings open.
"Oh! It feels just like velvet! Rarity likes velvet! Did you know your wings feel like velvet? Oh, I bet Twilight could tell us how it was made!" She wasn't even taking a breath as she continued and he found himself unable to get a word in. "Hi! My name is Pinkie Pie! What's your name?"
There weren't a great many things in the world that could stun him silent, but Gypsy couldn't help himself when it came to the pink mare before him. He looked her over briefly as he stepped back just enough to create a comfortable distance, tucking his wing back in at his side. "You... are not afraid of me?" He asked cautiously, suppressing the urge to smile.
"Of course not silly!" She chirped back, looking at him expectantly. She was practically trembling with nervous energy and now that he had a chance to get a good look at her he had to admit that he found himself wanting to get to know her.
The golden eyed stallion had met a great deal of people in his travels, but never one that gave off so friendly an aura as the curly haired mare in front of him. At least, none other than children.
"Ah... yes." The stallion replied, bowing his head slightly. "I am Gypsy the Teller. A traveling weaver of tales and wonder, and I am at your service." He smiled in spite of his previous attempts to control the urge and he felt her eyes on his fangs.
Clearing his throat, he looked off to the side the smile fading from his lips. "I did not wake you did I? I am sorry if that is the case." Much to his surprise, when he turned his eyes back on the pink mare she was smiling brightly.
Any brighter, He thought. And she will become another sun.
"You tell stories! That's so great! I love stories!" She started bouncing around him in what had to be the cutest display of childish excitement he'd ever seen. "I like cake too, and brownies, and cookies, and parties! But stories are really fun! Do you know lots of stories? Huh, huh, huh?"
Gypsy laughed softly, the smile returning to his lips and he gave up on fighting it. "I do." He assured her with a tone of great importance. "Maybe you would like to hear one?" He was glad that she was so friendly and even happier that his appearance meant nothing to her. There were a rare few ponies that he could call his friend, but he felt that even after this brief meeting he could name Pinkie Pie among them.
"I would!" She chimed. "But if you're going to tell a story then I should do something for you too!"
He watched as she considered how best to pay for a story that he would have given to her for free. The ashen stallion opened his mouth to tell her that she didn't owe him anything but was cut off by a cheerful squeal that signaled she had decided on payment.
"I'll make you some cookies! You can't have a good story without cookies." She finished with a look on her face that refused argument.
He opened his mouth to respond, but the pink mare herded him inside of the bakery.
"Come on." She said cheerfully, lowering her voice once she closed the door behind herself. "The kitchen is this way. You can help me, ok?"
Gypsy stared at her as she glided past him and shook his head in defeat. She's so good at setting her own pace. He thought as he started after her.
The storefront was simple enough, tables, chairs, a display case and a counter with a register. He'd seen so many places like this in his travels, but he could feel the warmth as well. The ponies that worked here cared about what they did and took pride in it.
"Pinkie," The golden eyed thestral began as they passed through the doors into the kitchen, pausing in the doorway to let his eyes adjust to the light that the mare turned on as they entered. "Are you sure that it is all right for me to be here? It is so late at night and I don't want to impose." The room was simple and small, cozy even, and everything was in easy reach of the large island table in the center of the room.
Pinkie stopped behind the table and looked back over her shoulder at him. "It's fine!" The pink earth pony chimed. "I'm the only one here tonight and I said its ok, so it's ok!" She ducked under the table and started digging through several drawers, placing bowls and measuring cups onto the table.
The ashen stallion stared at the mare as she busied herself with the equipment she would need. He briefly considered putting up some small resistance to imposing on her further, but gave up on it entirely and moved closer to the table. "How can I help you?"
"We're going to make yummy apple oatmeal raisin cookies!" The sing-song quality of her voice did a lot to calm him and he couldn't help but smile again when she put more emphasis on "yummy" than she needed to. Pinkie had quite a few things laid out on the table already and smiled at him cheerfully before motioning to the sink with one of her forelegs like she was presenting him with a great prize. "There are some apples in the cabinet above the sink. Can you wash and cut them into little chunks?"
Gypsy nodded as he made his way to the sink and the cabinet above while his host made herself busy collecting ingredients and adding them to a large bowl. The cabinet opened with a slight creaking noise and he found a pair of apples in a bowl just as she said he would. He lifted the bowl and set it down gently on the counter as he turned on the faucet, the sound of water splashing into the sink filling the kitchen. He wasted no time washing each apple, setting each one back into the bowl before shutting off the water. To his surprise a knife and cutting board had simply appeared next to the bowl while he was busy.
I didn't even hear her move. He mused as he went about slicing up the apples. "Small cubes, yes?" He asked, already knowing her answer as he cut each piece.
"That's right." She chimed, and glanced over his shoulder at his work. "That's perfect."
Once he finished with the task and put the knife safely into the sink, he turned back toward Pinkie with the bowl of newly cubed apple chunks. She had quite a few things mixed into a bowl already and Gypsy could smell fresh cinnamon. Without a word she took the bowl of apple chunks from him and poured them into the bowl, stirring gently with a wooden spoon.
"While you are finishing there, I will tell you the story I've promised." He began, considering the proper story to tell her. "Have you ever heard the story of the farmer's two sons?" It was an old story and one that fell into disuse a little over a thousand years ago, but Gypsy loved to tell it just the same.
Pinkie shook her head excitedly, lips turning up into a large smile. "Tell me, tell me! I'm so excited!"
"Before I begin," The ashen stallion started, motioning above their heads toward the light with his foreleg. "My stories are best in little or no light. Can I ask you to put out the light?"
The question brought a confused look out of the pink mare, but she complied after placing the cookies into the oven to bake. With that out of the way, she settled down on her haunches behind the table to listen eagerly.
Gypsy smiled to himself, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He released it slowly while clearing his mind and as he always did when he told a story he imagined his cutie mark. He imagined the golden clasp giving way as the book opened and the story flooded into his mind as he opened his eyes.
Many moons ago two brothers lived with their father in a small
house in the wilds of Equestria.
The ashen stallion began, raising a foreleg up slowly with a little bit of a flourishing motion. He blew gently over his raised hoof and the magic dust on it flew into the air around them, a little bit of Zebra magic that Gypsy had picked up in his travels that he always used to great effect with his talents.
Pinkie watched, eyes wide with amazement as the golden motes of magic swirled between them changing into a pair of earth ponies and their aging father with little motes of light falling from each of them lazily like little falling stars. She laughed cheerfully and reached out touch them but they danced just out of her reach.
The younger brother worked hard and was kind to all he met.
The elder, knowing he was to inherit his father's prosperous farm,
was arrogant and proud.
The ethereal ponies shifted and dissolved briefly as the dust reformed into the younger brother working on the farm, tending the fields carefully and then to the proud elder brother ignoring his younger brother's work and refusing to let him have help.
He scorned his younger brother and ignored his aging father.
Every night after supper the father would say, "Remember, my
sons. What you plant, you will eat."
The golden motes of light changed into the younger son nodding at his father's words, eyes full of love and understanding while the elder son yawned and walked away leaving the father to watch him leave with sadness in his eyes.
Pinkie frowned watching the image of the elder brother float away and Gypsy smiled again, getting the reaction from her that he wanted. He directed the magic in the air around them with a twist of his hoof and the motes shifted, melting like sands being poured to the ground. A moment later they reformed, the two sons on either side of a bed and the aging father on it looking old and sick.
On his deathbed, the father beckoned the two brothers close
to him. "Remember, my sons. Nothing is as important as family.
Share this property and work together. I leave this land to both
of you."
The two sons moved closer to the father, the younger looking distraught and upset and the older looking only mildly put off. Their father shuddered on his bed and closed his eyes as his younger son cried and lowered his head.
The elder brother was furious. The law of the land said that
the elder son inherited everything. As soon as the funeral
ceremonies were past, he thrust the younger brother from their
home, ignoring the wish of his deceased father.
Pinkie gasped and watched as the two brothers argued until the younger was thrown from the property and the images melted away again. When they reformed, she saw the younger brother walking down a long road with his head low.
Heartbroken, the younger brother walked for many miles,
far away from his home and village, until he found an
abandoned farm that nopony wanted. He tended it carefully,
planting a small crop and sleeping in the ruined barn. By
saving and scraping, he managed to make enough money to
build a small home and make a profit.
The image shifted again under the ashen stallion's direction, reforming to reveal the younger son tilling and caring for his new farmland. The farmland improved and a house grew nearby, yet still the younger son toiled.
Soon, he was able to marry and have a family.
Glittering images of young foals soon joined the likeness of the laboring earth pony on the farm, while a youthful mare tended animals in a makeshift barn nearby.
One year, a drought overcame the land and the younger
son's crop failed. Without assistance, his family would starve.
Crops across the luminous fields withered and died without warning and the images of the ponies living them wept and struggled to save them.
Gypsy watched Pinkie remove the, now finished, cookies from the oven and set them aside to cool. The way she hurried made him smile and he was happy to see that she was interested to hear the rest of the story.
It broke his heart to hear his wife and foals moaning with
hunger in their sleep, so he went to his wealthy brother to
ask him to share some of the food that was grown on the
property their father had willed to them both.
The images swirled and changed again, showing the elder yelling at his younger sibling.
"It's my crop now," the elder brother bellowed with a cruel
laugh. "Go away!" So saying, he slammed the door in his
younger brother's face and locked it.
Pinkie frowned, watching the sparkling door close in the younger brother's face. There was a far off look in her eyes as she tried to empathize with the two siblings in the story. Gypsy could not have asked for a more imaginative and attentive listener as the frown on the pink mare's lips turned into an angry scowl. "Ooo! I don't like him! He's so mean!" The cotton candy maned pony finally interrupted. "Why can't he be nice to his brother? It isn't fair!"
The ashen stallion smiled knowingly and continued.
Brokenhearted, the younger brother turned away. As he
left the village, he heard a shrill cry from a tree above him.
A snake was attacking a baby bluebird.
Motes of light danced and weaved, painting the image of the younger brother looking up into a tree as the tiny bluebird flapped frantically trying to get away but it was too young to fly and fell to the ground instead. The younger brother lifted up the helpless baby in his hooves gently.
Its leg was broken, and so he tore a strip of cloth from his
saddlebags and set the bluebird's leg. When the snake finally
slid away, he returned the baby to its nest and went home to
his starving family. The next few weeks were hard. The younger
brother gave every spare scrap of food to his tiny foals, who
were so thin he could count their ribs. His wife walked over the
fields searching for any edible plants she could find, but her
harvest was always scant.
The increasingly tragic images flickered into and out of existence at the thestral's urging, the golden motes of light falling from them mournfully. Pinkie studied each scene in silence, wilting as if they were draining away her own joy and Gypsy offered her a small reassuring smile before he continued.
Then one day a tiny bluebird flew to their home and landed
on the thatch. It was the baby bluebird that the younger brother
had rescued. Leg now healed and able to fly, the bluebird sat
on the thatch and sang a merry song of thanks to the marveling
family. Then it circled the younger brother's farm three times and
slipped off into the starry night sky, the moon rising proudly
above the humbled earth pony family.
Pinkie watched as the glittering bluebird disappeared into the image of the full moon and couldn't help but feel the beginnings of a smile touch her lips. The glittering earth pony family looked happy now and that was enough for the pink mare to feel happy for them.
The shimmering moon trembled as the motes of light that made its center fell away gently, leaving behind the unmistakable shape of the Princess of the Night.
"Thou art a kind pony, noble cultivator of the land." said the
Moon. "We have decided to grant unto thee a boon. For so
long as thy family dwell amongst the fields and keep the values
of harmony shall they respond to thine own authority. Thy
harvest shall always be bountiful." And as quickly as she had
appeared, she was gone.
The starving family watched in awe as their barren fields
suddenly blossomed to life under the light of the full moon
and within minutes the fields were full of melons.
"Father, father! Can we eat them?" cried the hungry
children. Laughing in delight, the younger brother pulled a
melon off the vine and split it down the center with his hoof.
Offering it to his family, he said, "Give thanks, my family, to
the protection of Sun and Moon and always be harmonious."
The motes of light swirled happily around the room, tickling Pinkie's nose and bringing a light giggle to her lips, before settling again into an image of the elder brother's farm in disrepair. The images changing as Gypsy spoke, following his words.
Many years passed and the younger brother's farm
continued to be prosperous while drought and insects
ravaged the elder's farm. Unable to see beyond his own
pride, the elder brother refused to ask for help and eventually
ran away from his ruined house and lands. Poorer even than
his younger brother had once been, he wandered from village
to village, begging for food. One day, he looked up from his
begging and saw his younger brother standing a few feet away,
holding a hoe. Ashamed, the elder brother looked down,
until the blade of the hoe landed on the ground beside his hooves.
"I have lost everything," the elder brother said, staring at the
blade of the hoe. "I have no place to go. No food. I won't blame
you if you send me away too."
He felt a gentle hoof on his shoulder. "Come, brother," the
prosperous farmer said. "Let us sew a new crop, together.
For what we plant, we will eat."
The elder brother looked up with tears in his eyes and
accepted the hoe from his younger brother.
With the story finished, the magic keeping the motes of light active faded and they fell harmlessly to the floor before disappearing. Gypsy had been keeping a close eye on Pinkie since he started his story and he found her lost in thought with her forehooves crossed. "Is something bothering you, my friend?" he asked gently, not wanting to break her mood.
The curly haired pony snapped out of her reverie and shook her head sharply. "Nuh uh!" she exclaimed, the bright smile returning to her features. "I really liked that Gypsy! It sounded like a super duper old story and Princess Luna was in it! I've never heard any stories with her in them! Are there more?"
"Of course," he replied, bowing his head. "I will be in town for as long as I am welcome, so there will be many nights for me to share those stories."
Pinkie beamed with delight. "I'll bring some friends!" she exclaimed and swiped one of the, now cooled, cookies from the wire rack she had them resting on. "And now for my end of the bargain," she said, motioning grandly to the cookies. "Help yourself!"
It was the ashen stallion's turn to smile as he bowed his head in thanks and took one of the cookies. Ponyville, He thought to himself as he took a bite and savored the delicate flavors. Is a wonderful place if the ponies here are even half as accepting as Pinkie Pie.
"Well?" the pink mare asked with an expectant look on her face.
"Wonderful." Gypsy replied. "You will let me buy some from the shop tomorrow, yes?"
"Sure! I'm glad you liked them." she said, moving the remaining cookies into a paper bag that she brought out from under the table she'd been sitting at. "You can have the rest of them, but you gotta promise to share them with your friend."
"I will do just that." the stallion said. "Old Muscat will like them very much, I think. Though, I think I should retire for the evening. I have a long day ahead of myself."
The two ponies said their goodnight to one another and Gypsy returned to his wagon for the evening, much happier than he'd felt in a long time. He felt luck turning in his favor and could only look forward to the days to come.