Sour Grapes stood next to Friendly Fire, watching the latest in the wide variety of madness that was happening in Ponyville. She had sometimes wondered what Summer Squall was like in his prime, and to be honest she was still wondering because the adolescent pony that they were watching was more pre-prime than prime. Still, his actions belied that life at sea and as a member of a pirate crew had caused him to grow up rather tough.
Yes, it WAS indeed a tribal stereotype that pegasi were ‘brutes’, emphasising their aggressive natures as if they were born with the sensibilities of a bird of prey, however seeing Summer Squall’s younger self wrestling with the giant squid that normally was content to stay at the bottom of the nearby lake made her think that maybe there was some truth behind the generalisation. Then again Squall was probably the prototype for the ‘angry youth’ image. Fortunately he took orders well, especially when they were ‘fun’, which in this case was her telling him to “Get that wriggly sea-creature out of the town square and back into the lake.”
Well… It seemed like the least she could do. And the poor thing was something of a small-time tourist attraction. Still, it HAD been menacing the locals ever since it was supplied with… feet, and the big polished scarlet dance shoe it had on each one. (Interestingly enough it was all left feet. Go figure.) Despite being a tap-dancing squid, it was no Ginger Trotters and it looked a lot as if it had been trying to go out of it’s way to step on ponies (missing fortunately) and was doing a significant amount of property damage. So Grapes wasn’t feeling too guilty in letting Squall do a little showing off here. Added benefit of allowing Squall to blow off some steam, so it was a win-win all around.
“I know this was kind of beyond the perimeter, Friendly, but Squall needed something to do,” Grapes said with a small smile.
“Understood, Ma’am.” he agreed, wincing as Squall performed some wrestling moves that certainly were not regulation. “It’s strange to see the Captain like this. I only knew he was a naval stallion and is now a well-respected and even decorated pony. This is… it makes me feel better about myself. Do you know what I mean, ma’am?”
“You feel better about your past, because of Squall’s piratical past?” Grapes asked tilting her head.
“Yes Ma’am. I know it sounds like schadenfreude in action but really. It’s not. More like… if he could pull himself together, maybe I can too.”
“That’s not schadenfreude, it’s more like you have an example,” Grapes said thoughtfully.
“Good to know, ma’am.” he agreed. “He’s doing really well ma’am. He’s got that squid halfway there. .”
“Looks like we can head back,” Grapes said, beginning to look a bit tired.
“Yes Ma’am. He’ll have ‘Ginger’ back at the lake in no time.”
Grapes chuckled a bit, sighing. “I wish they would hurry up. This is… tiring.”
“I know, Ma’am. It’s a little like fighting a forest fire. You can’t do a lot about the big burn but you can just do your best to put out the small fires and try to keep it from spreading towards ponies.” He smiled, giving her a look that was probably admiration. “Being honest Ma’am, you’ve been nothing short of amazing. I’ve met officers in the three branches that wouldn’t have handled all of this as well as you did. I have no idea how you manage to keep a level head in the middle of all of this chaos Ma’am.”
“Well we farmers have to deal with all sorts of chaos,” Grapes said with a wan smile. “Bugs, wildlife, the fallout from stormy weather. ‘No sense in yelling at the pegasi if you can’t keep up with the weather schedule’, my dad always told me. Having the weather controlled is a boon, but we ponies can’t control everything. This level of chaos is tiring, though.”
“I can only say Ma’am, seeing you this brave in the face of it all is helping me get through it. I can only hope when all is said and done and it’s my turn to lead that I can be half as brave as you.”
“I’m saving all my freaking out for after this is over. Mother always said: ‘Never show the help you’re afraid, because you have to be an example for them’.,” Grapes said with a slight grin. “So… I may be kind of isolated for a while.”
“Understood, Ma’am.”
“All right. Let’s get back to our perimeter. I think Squall’s got the squid well in hoof,” Grapes said, looking around at the floating buildings, and despondent citizens. “C’mon, Twilight,” she whispered, “you really need to lick this before it goes too far.”
“*BARK*”
The barking sound was completely unexpected, although not nearly as unexpected as Big Macintosh appearing along with the sound, and dragging his broad, wet tongue up the side of her face. He barked again and ran off chasing after a rainbow-coloured squirrel that left sparkles in it’s wake, leaving Grapes and Friendly completely stunned.
“What just happened?” Grapes asked, looking a little perturbed.
“The big red pony licked you like a dog and ran off ...Ma’am.” Friendly said sounding rather lost. “I wonder what the magic guy granted HIM that he wound up like that.”
“It could have been just random, too,” Grapes said, shaking her head, then rubbing her cheek. “And my ancestors just had to put their vineyard right across from their Apple cousins… That was Big Macintosh, and he’s been turned into a big puppy. Ugh. C’mon.”
“Ma'am.. I know you're a professional and all so... Didn't you go and close those doors to the wine cave there?"
“We need to grab a lantern,” Grapes said, nodding at the open cave door. “It’s pitch dark in there.”
“I’m on it, Ma’am.” Friendly said fetching one of the Copper-mesh ones best used when entering an area that may have large quantities of alcohol vapor in the air. Now armed with a source of steady light and a heavy mallet (the closest thing they had to a weapon) they descended into the inky darkness.
Sour Grapes had been down here so many times it was all routine, she probably could have done this blindfolded but there was a problem. With all of the strangeness assaulting the local landscape the familiar confines of the aging cavern felt… eerie and confining. And there was something else down here. She could hear it fairly clearly.
It sounded like high-pitched rapid breathing so noisy it was more like a rapid gasping. It reminded Grapes of the time she caught a rabbit in a box trap and it cowered in the corner, hyperventilating.
Rows of casks, barrels and bottles were each in turn illuminated by their passing. The lamp casting a warm yellow glow upon them. It was then something glimmered in the dark. For a moment she thought the lamp had caught some brass fitting or something but then she took a step back to let the light shine in that direction again, making two wide golden eyes reflect the light back. She only knew of one creature, pony or animal, in this region that had eyes like those.
It was then when they found Earshot pressed into the furthest corner of her aging cave, eyes wide, darting about the room in mortal terror. Grapes approached him with a look of concern on her face.
"Muh... Messs Graapess," he moaned, his words terribly hollow and slurred. Sour Grapes' blood went cold as she slowly realised that even Earshot didn't escape Discord unscathed. "Halllp meh. Plays... hallp meh."
Grapes walked closer to him, and tucked his head under her chin. "I'm here, Earshot. I'm here. Calm down." She gently pulled him from that space between the casks and the corner of the room.
She cradled his body against hers when Friendly Fire gasped, "Good gravy! What happened to his ears?"
With Earshot so close now, Sour Grapes could finally get a good look at him and his new affliction. Where two large bat-like ears would normally stand out proudly from either side of his thick purple mane, now his skull was smooth as a drum. Not believing the sight, she gently touched the spots that once upon a time had ears and found no trace of them. No ear canal, no scarring; just fur, skin, and bone, as if they had never even existed.
Earshot had been stricken deaf by powerful magic, and only one being had that level of power right now.
"This... bloody creature..." Grapes uttered, blinking rapidly. "This MONSTER maimed a little colt for his OWN TWISTED AMUSEMENT!”
“More than that, Ma’am.” Friendly said, reaching out to touch Earshot, and causing the colt to flinch. “I remember reading in his file that he doesn’t think of his eyes as his main way of seeing the world. Most of his perception is his ears. This would be like your or me going blind and having to resort to our other senses to get around. My word, no wonder he was all crammed into that corner. His eyes may work in low-light but not in no-light. Poor guy must have been too scared to even TRY to look for the way out.”
Grapes gently lifted Earshot in her levitation, cuddling him, as she carried him out, still obviously fighting tears. She never felt hate for any creature, before, but she felt it now. Grapes hated Discord with a passion, because he would dare attack the most innocent of foals.
Getting him back to the Bunkhouse he was quickly made comfortable by the remaining workers and supplied with writing materials to get a better idea of what happened to him. Earshot had apparently been overwhelmed by a lot of the background noise in the area. He described some of the sonic phenomena as things like ‘False Echoes’ and ‘Feedback’ while mostly it was just the sounds of the strangeness and ponies suffering that made him retreat to the cave-like familiarity of the Wine Cave. It was down there in the dark that he met Discord.
He had trouble explaining how his ears ‘saw’ him. He could describe his shape, and his vocal “undertone” but he seemed to be “flickering” in the sound in the same way a candle flame flickers in a breeze. He was most confused at how this draconequus (which was how Discord apparently described himself) knew so much about him.
------------------------
“Why, how can I NOT know about you, Earshot? You’re the only Night Pony under the sun. The ears of the Storm-Riders. Celestia’s Shadow. You’ve lived more in ten years than some ponies do in a lifetime.”
“But who are you, Mister?”
“Me? Oh just your friendly neighborhood draconequus, out on the town after a thousand year hiatus and having a little fun with my new neighbors.”
“There’s a lot of ponies out there who don’t sound like they’re having fun,” Earshot observed.
“Well, I HAVE been known to be hard on my toys now and again. Still it’s mainly those who… shall we say ‘catch my attention’ that become my favorites for some personal time on my part. Which is where we come to you.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you, little Earshot. My… it can’t be easy can it? You have the most remarkable hearing. So much so you hear EVERYthing. Whether you want to or not.”
“I’m not always aware of it all. It’s just…” Earshot said nervously
“I know, I know. You never deliberately eavesdrop, but sometimes you can’t help it. You like hearing new things. You love sounds you have never experienced before, don’t you?” Discord asked with a sly grin.
“Yes sir. I do.”
“I can give you a gift Earshot. I can grant you the opportunity to hear a sound that’s NOTHING like anything you’ve heard before. Or will again.”
-------------------------------
Grapes’ stomach churned with bile at the wording. If she could trust anypony to accurately remember the exact words of another, it was Earshot. She could see the way the sentence was formed and the trap laid there like a set of spring-loaded steel jaws. Earshot was indeed hearing a sound that was NOTHING like anything he heard before. In fact with ears like his this was perhaps his first experience with total, and absolute silence.
She frowned, growling, scraping her hooves against the floor. Grapes shook her head, and sighed.
She could console herself with the fact that the remaining workers were very supportive of Earshot. Giving him a chair with his back to one of the corners so nopony could surprise him from behind, and doing their best to distract him from his current situation. by pulling some board games from the entertainment cupboard. She still wanted to flay the fur and scales from that monster’s body. One more for the post return-to-normal-freakout. Grapes just wished it wasn’t taking so blasted long for Twilight and her friends to take care of the problem.
Dusty really didn’t want to leave the relative safety of the bunkhouse’s basement, but he had to. Not because of the worried look on Sour Grapes’ face, or the fact that looking at an earless Earshot made his veins feel like they were filled with ice water. No. No it was far more simple than that. He had to use the outhouse pretty badly and he felt too self-conscious to use a chamberpot right now. Not to mention his new leg brace wasn’t quite built to let him kneel down enough to do it properly. Nope. It was the outhouse or blowing out a kidney. Dusty sighed, and carefully trotted out of the bunkhouse. He looked out the door, then made his way out to the outhouses. He knocked on the door of the first one, because of common courtesy.
When there was no response he took a deep breath and ducked inside. He had heard stories about this outhouse. Something to do with that pink party mare in town and her overindulging during the winter holidays. Even though he wasn’t breathing the atmosphere inside was making his eyes water, so he did his business as quickly as his body would allow and got out just in time for his desperate need for oxygen became too much to bear. Why was that outhouse STILL smelling so BAD?!
“*GASP*! What did that party mare DO in there?!” Dusty asked, gulping down fresh, if oddly scented, air. “Note to self… Avoid Outhouse Number One.”
He gave himself a big shake as if to hope it would get the last lingering bits of stank off of him when he heard a heavy thud from the next outhouse in line. He was silent a moment, uncertain if he heard it for real or a trick of his ears. He heard the heavy thud again accompanied by a feminine groan of pain.
Dusty knocked on the door. “Are you all right?”
There was a whimper on the other side of the door and the sound of somepony apparently rechecking the latch.
“Dust… Dusty? What are you doing out here?” came Queenie’s voice from inside the outhouse. “It’s not.. nnnf… not safe.”
“I kind of had to go,” Dusty replied, sounding obviously embarrassed.
“Ah. I see. Well. So you’ve… ‘gone’? Yes? Then you can…” Queenie gave off a wordless cry of pain accompanied by the sound of jingling hitting the bottom of a bucket. “...oh, buck me.”
“Uh… I… don’t know you well enough,” Dusty said blushing. “I’d at least ask you out to dinner, several times, and out to the cinema, and assorted other things, before that would even begin to consider crossing my mind…”
“Uh what? Oh. OH! Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.. AH!” again the jingling noise, this time accompanied by not just a strangled whimper but also a flatulent outburst. “...didn’t… didn’t mean to say that out loud. I’m just… I’m in a bad way right now.”
“You encountered some kind of weird creature, and you made a wish, didn’t you?” Dusty asked.
“No,” she said sounding almost as if pleading. “We just… talked. We talked and I may have said something in passing, but it was not really a wish.”
“Can you give me a hint what you may or may not have said to this creature?”
“I... I may have alluded to the plight of my homeland.” She said tentatively, as if not wanting to admit she had been gulled so easily. “I MAY also have used an unfortunate expression I picked up from Firestormer. One involving monetary units and one’s… ah… ‘wazoo’.”
“I did tell you to be careful about what you say,” Dusty said with a quiet sigh. “Hang on, Queenie. I’ll be right back.” Queenie heard him limp off, while she was enduring her own personal Tartarus. Then she heard him come back. “Brought you an ice pack. Thought it may help.”
“Oh, thank you. Oh, Celestia bless you,” she whispered, unlatching the door and pushing it open a crack. Dusty caught a glimpse of one of her gorgeous ice blue eyes in the darkness beyond. “I… I have a favour to ask. An additional one actually, considering you bringing me the ice pack is a very welcome favour.”
“What can I do for you?” Dusty asked with a kind smile.
The door opened a little wider and out was pushed a tin bucket full to the brim with golden bits. Dusty’s eyes widened at the sight of them. He had taken the idea of having money coming out the “wazoo” as on the humorous side but seeing them right there in front of him, now cemented the fact that it would be a very uncomfortable experience. The bucket was also followed by a fairly large potato bag behind it, the mass jingling in a way that only reinforced his sympathy for her.
“Would you… be so kind as to put these somewhere secure and… and bring me more containers?” The formerly forceful and confident mare’s voice sounded so small and uncertain right now. This was definitely a humbling experience for her. “I know I’m hoping against hope that these will remain when everything is said and done but it being a gamble or not, I have to hope all this wasn’t for nothing.”
“I’ll bag them up, and put them by the compost pile,” Dusty said poking the coins. “That creature made Earshot deaf, and I don’t trust these to stay bits.”
“EARSHOT?” she shouted, her face now pressed against the opening between the door and the jamb. “Is he alright? No, of course he isn’t. You said he made him deaf. What did he do? Oh, heavens, there are so many ways to deafen a pony…”
“That creature stole Earshot’s ears. Lil’ Dude’s doing as best he can, though,” Dusty said with a quiet sigh. “I’ll be back. You need something to eat, or drink?”
“I thought I was distressed before but now… I’m sorry. Earshot is very dear to us, he’s the little brother I would have adored having. To know he needs me and I’m… not so much trapped as I am…” She groaned and the jingling sound occurred again, this time on wood. “...SON of a BACHELOR! Er… you never heard me say that. Where was I? Oh yes… As I am indisposed. Please give him my warm regards and… and… yes… some water would be appreciated. Thank you.”
Dusty chuckled at hearing her cursing, and trotted off again. It was, honestly, rather nice to see her unbend a little, though this was a unique situation. Dusty trotted back to the bunkhouse, and picked up some water, and made her a daisy sandwich.
“Where are you going, Dusty?” Grapes asked.
“Taking Queenie some water and something to eat. She… has a seriously upset stomach…” Dusty replied, as he gathered some bags, and some buckets.
“The monster got her, too, I take it?” Grapes said frowning.
“Yeah,” Dusty replied, as he along, carrying the containers. “He did… in the end.”
“Oh… Oh boy…” Grapes uttered, facehoofing. “Malicious literalism?”
“Oh. Yeah. Big time,” Dusty replied. He limped outside.
“I hope it didn’t have anything to do with monkeys,” Grapes uttered, rolling her eyes. From outside, came Dusty’s panicked exclamation of surprise.
“HOLY BUCKING FEWMITS!”
“Oh, what NOW?!” Grapes uttered, getting up, and going outside to see… the sun and moon rapidly changing places. “Ah. I see…” She huddled close to the porch’s boards, staring wide-eyed at the sky’s spastic acrobatics.
Dusty was huddling close to the outhouse that Queenie was occupying, as he stared at the sun and moon’s rapid switcheroo. “This… this is… totally scary… That means that dude is more powerful than the princesses…”
“This would explain a great deal,” Sirrocco said stepping along side of Sour Grapes. “I cannot tell how much time has passed because of this D’Jinn’s toying with natural forces. If the sun and moon are mere playthings then my instincts are easily mislead… as is my watch.” Sirocco held up her pocket watch for the ponies to see, it’s normally circular form melting before their eyes like a Dali painting. “We may have been under his reign for anything between hours to days and we would still be lost.”
Grapes sighed. “Wonderful… This is absolutely wonderful. We have no idea how long this has been going on, our sense of day and night has been disoriented, and if this isn’t taken care of, soon, we’re probably all going to go crazy… Or it could just be me. I don’t know.”
“Right about now, I’m glad I can’t see what’s going on out there.” came the muffled voice of Queenie, followed by more jingling and a soft unladylike curse. “No… no I lie. I’d trade watching all the crazy in Equestria right now if only this would just stop… or at least a tube of hemorrhoid cream.”
“You wouldn’t mind seeing Grapes going totally spastic?” Dusty asked, with a quiet chuckle. “And… I don’t know if we’ve got any of that… and it’s not safe to go into town to get any… Oh, I got your water, and a daisy sandwich.”
“Th-thank you.” Queenie said opening the door ever so slightly to accept the offering.
“No problem. Figured you’d be ready for a snack, and it’s not a good idea for you to get dehydrated,” Dusty said with a smile toward that single blue eye that was showing.
She reached out and took the small meal, her hooves brushing his ever so gently before she spoke softly.
“I appreciate you doing this, Dusty. I know I have not always been… fair when dealing with you. Thank you for being such a… a gentlecolt.”
“It’s all right. I understand your point of view…” Dusty replied with a small smile.
“You… HAVE been storing the currency in question someplace safe and yet someplace where it will not pose an issue should it become true that all that glitters is not gold?”
“Just in sacks right by the compost pile. Figured it would save a trip. And if they stay bits, we’ll move them to the aging cave,” Dusty said with a chuckle.
“Ah. Yes. That location should dissuade anypony from getting too curious. I would hate to see some pony with sticky hooves to leave more than a tip to some unfortunate business in town.”
“And, again, don’t trust that creature’s magic, anyway… Even if they stayed bits, I wouldn’t recommend using them… They’re tainted by that creature’s magic,” Dusty observed quietly. “No telling what sorts of disasters they could cause, in a pony’s bit bag…” Queenie went quiet after that. Except for, of course, the quiet groans of pain. The landscape continued to be surreal, with flying pigs, and cotton candy clouds. Suddenly, as Sour Grapes was surveying any further damage…
*SPLAT* She got a facefull of random pie from the heavens, causing her to issue a long-suffering sigh. It wasn’t alone. There seemed to be a small shower of pies falling on the vineyard, right then.
Sirocco looked at them and blinked. "Have we entered the pie of the storm, Miss Grapes?"
"... Did you just make a pun?" Grapes asked, as she extracted her muzzle from the ballistic pastry.
"Yes... yes I did. ...was it funny?" the Saddle Arabian asked.
"Yes, it was. You just surprised me,” Grapes replied, licking some of the filling off her muzzle. “Huh. Raisin.”
"I have discovered that I am... infamous for ruining Equestrian and so have started to read up on humor involving wordplay to help me overcome this.. or at least be amusing in doing so," Sirocco said with a small smile.
“That’s rather clever of you, Sirocco,” Grapes said, trying to scrape the pie bits off her face with the pan. Suddenly something else captured their attention.
There was a low rumble from the heart of town, it must be something big to hear it all the way out here past the town limits. Sour Grapes and the others all looked towards the source of the noise and were shocked when a great rainbow began to rise up towards the heavens. The Prismatic beam arced high above Ponyville before making a rapid descent downwards. An anguished voice that seemed to embody everything wrong in the world cried out in surprise with a long drawn-out “Nooo…!!!” before it was silenced. The rainbow, however, hung there in the air, its seven colors shining like a beacon of hope above the blighted landscape. It then split in two, forming a dome over Ponyville, then it seemed to explode outwards with a light that briefly blinded everypony that happened to be outside at the time.
"It's stopped... It's STOPPED! Yah hah HAH!... Oh fewmits..." Queenie uttered, at first jubilantly, then sounding much more irritated.
"What? What is it?" Sirocco asked , looking worried.
Queenie slammed open the door, GLARING at Dusty.
"What'd I do?!" Dusty asked cringing.
"The bucket in the Outhouse needs to be emptied," she said coolly before looking past Dusty towards the compost heap. "And cleaned. Please take care of it while I go check on something."
"As you wish," Dusty said quietly, his ears laid back.
Queenie walked past him and the others with as much dignity as anypony could with a large ice pack tied to their rump. Grapes and Dusty shrugged at each other; Dusty levitating out the bucket. They glanced into it and stared at the contents a moment, it wasn’t every day you saw “that” material in the perfect shape of coinage.
Their grotesque fascination with the not-bits-at-all was interrupted by the front door to the Bunkhouse suddenly bursting open and Earshot stumbling out.
“Miss Grapes! Miss Grapes! I can HEAR again!”
Grapes turned to see Earshot’s restored face, and beamed. “That’s wonderful, Earshot!”
The night pony ran up and nuzzled her briefly before looking around the restored landscape.
“I hear… I hear… nothing out of the ordinary! All clear! Clear Skies ahead! Whoohoo!”
“Twilight and her pals finally got it together. That’s good to know. Guess we ought to see if Firestormer’s better,” Grapes said, sounding relieved.
“Uh. Miss Grapes?” Earshot said, sniffing the air. “What smells like dung?”
“Exactly what it smells like, Earshot,” Grapes replied with a small smirk. “It’s exactly what it smells like. What a pony says can often hurt them in the… end.”
Everypony began coming out of hiding and began the process of tallying the damage. On the surface it seemed as if nearly everything during Discord’s reign of strangeness had been undone (save the lingering memories). Damaged property had self-repaired, the upheaval of the landscape had reset, off behavior dissipated and all seemed to be correcting itself.
Stormfront was still absent but he had gone all the way to Trottingham and wouldn’t be back until late tomorrow at the earliest.
Confident that everything was now all under control, Sour Grapes entered her home. She locked the door, had a drink of water, walked slowly up to her room, locked that door, drew the blinds, put on a record with some loud music and crawled into bed to let her patented “Snark Armor” down. Her defensive mechanism of ridiculing adversity or stupidity had served her well in the past, but at the end of the day, and she was alone with her thoughts, the full scope of things always hit home. She hugged a pillow, and just started to shake tears streaming from her face. The strong facade she had put up came crashing down. She lay curled up, hugging her pillow for… she didn’t know how long.
“Discord. That… loathsome perverted creature,” she grumbled, as she stared up at the ceiling some time later. Grapes then sighed. “And Stormfront’s more loyal to his duties… Makes sense… Who are you fooling, Grapes? No stallion’s going to want to be with you for the long haul, so you may as well get used to that idea… Stormfront will find somebody who’s more so’s than too’s, and he’ll let you down easy. Ugh. And during that, I was thinking about keeping the Riders from freaking out, because I didn’t want to lose my employees. Not because I was worried about my friends… well… except for Earshot. Yay, I do have maternal instincts.”
After that small monolog, Grapes cuddled under her comforter, and hugged her pillow, gazing morosely at the dresser her parents left her. This whole ordeal was making her wish she had not packed her Smarty Pants doll up on the attic. She’d probably hug the stuffing out of it, and talk to it about her problems. Finally, she slept fitfully, still curled around her pillow. Which was a poor substitute for a stuffed animal, or a certain gray-coated pegasus stallion… No. No don’t think that. That’s the road to hope, then heartbreak. Stormfront could do a lot better than her. However, she would fight that mish-mashed monstrosity before he even considered doing worse.
The next morning, Grapes still haven’t come out of the farmhouse.
“Okay… This is totally new,” Dusty observed, looking at the farmhouse door. “Seriously. I’ve never known Grapes to not be up before the roosters.”
He became aware of a smell like burnt hair and charcoal next to him, he glanced over to see Firestorm struggling with dragging a brush through his now curly mane.
“Tell me about it. A lot of us set our watches to the boss-mare.” The bright orange pegasus grit his teeth and managed with a large yank to remove a big knot of hair out. “AH! FEWMITS! I’m not gonna complain about my jaw miraculously healing during my time as fire but my mane is more singed now than it’s ever been. Gonna take a serious haircut to fix this.”
“You could check in with the spa. They, like, do everything there. Doc sent me there for massages,” Dusty observed. “They probably could do something about the smell, too.”
“The smell?”
“Yeah. You smell like ash, dude.”
“I smell like… oh…” Firestormer smirked and chuckled. “Cute surfer-boy. Very cute.”
“Got to have something positive,” Dusty replied with a chuckle. “I… I… don’t know what to do for Grapes...”
“I think she’s just overwhelmed by everything that happened yesterday. I’ve seen it before in the Storm-Riders. Heck we’ve all been there at some point or another. Storm is over, you survey the damage and realise just how little of an impact you had on the whole. That’s when you get a bad case of the If-Only’s and those are not good to have, let me tell you-me.”
“I know all about those… Most of my ‘if only’s’... are about me being skewered on the brass fittings of an overlarge cannon, or paralyzed from the head down,” Dusty murmured quietly. “‘If only I had done something different’... But I would have been worse off… No real loss, in the greater scheme of things, if you think about it.”
“You just went somewhere pretty dark, buddy,” Firestormer said, frowning. “Remind me to talk to you about that later on. Right now we should check up on Sour Grapes and make sure she’s okay.”
Dusty limped up to the door, and tried the handle. Finding it locked, he lifted up the welcome mat, pulled out the spare key, and unlocked the door, swinging it open.
“Grapes?” Dusty called, as he looked around.
The dishes lay in the sink, undone. Very uncharacteristic for Sour Grapes to let them just sit there like that. He slowly went up the stairs to find the door to her room locked as well. Fortunately one key fit all around here.
“What do you want? I… I’m not feeling like work, today,” Grapes said, from beneath her comforter.
“Hey, Grapes, you don’t let me get away with wallowing in… What is it you wallow in? Self pity? Yeah, that sounds about right. You’d tell me not to wallow in self-pity, an’ get out there and do my work, an’ get better,” Dusty said poking the mound earning him a glare from beneath the comforter. “What makes you so special that you can do it and I can’t?”
“Your boss,” Grapes griped.
“I’m also family,” Dusty said with a smirk. “Family is supposed to stand by ya, and give you that kick in the rear, when you need it. You can’t pull the ‘boss’ card on me, ‘cause I’ve got the family card to pull on you. So there. Heck, I can get Applejack, Macintosh, and even Granny Smith to come and nag at ya too. I’ll even bring in Doctor Coldhoof for a consult.”
Grapes groaned. “Fine. Fine. I’ll get up,” she uttered, slowly getting out of bed, and out from under the comforter.
“They’re all worried about you, you know,” Dusty said with a smirk.
“Right… I’m not the greatest friend, though,” Grapes said, as they trotted down the steps.
“You’re still new at the whole ‘friend’ thing,” Dusty said with a grin.
“Ugh… I feel like someone stuffed me into a cement mixer full of rocks then wrung me out like a dish rag. I don’t even want to get washed up right now.”
“We could drag you out into the yard and hose you down,” Dusty suggested.
“Pass.”
“Be quick, easy…” Dusty persisted.
“And humiliating, yet refreshing,” Grapes added. “Now for the ‘fun’ part. We get to see what problems we have today.”
“Well, the buildings are still standing. That’s a plus. Everypony has a head and four hooves so we’re all alive and healthy. Heck, Firestormer’s jaw is fully healed. Guess being turned into fire and back finished the job that dentist did… bet she’d still wanna write a paper on it or something.”
“Good to know, Dusty… Oh my. I guess… I’ll have to live, learn, and move on,” Grapes said sarcastically, as they exited the farmhouse. “So… I hear you all were worried about me?”
“Aye. That we were, lass.” Summer Squall said stepping forward from the group. “I don’t really remember much of yesterday but I get the impression that I... owe you me life.”
Grapes blinked, tilting her head. “You owe me your life?”
“Aye. I did say it was fuzzy. Did you do or… say anything that helped me out, lass?”
“I said a bunch of stuff to get a younger you to stop acting like scaliwag, and a rebel without a clue, and actually be a productive member of society,” Grapes said with a shrug. “Told him that he had the spark of greatness in him, and he had to show it to me.”
“You… you did, did you…” Squall said tapping the side of his head in thought. “I remember… I remember now. I said something similar to… oh, for the love of the sea.”
Summer Squall began to laugh, a deep belly laugh that caused him to have to lean on Sirocco to not fall over.
“Oh! When that chaos god sent me back, I thought it was his way of lettin’ me relive me youth… literally. I was sent back to me last day on me old pirate ship, the Buttercup!”
“And he switched you with your younger self,” Grapes said with a shake of her head.
“I thought it strange too… until I realised that was the exact moment me and Admiral… oh wait… She was CAPTAIN Diamond Blade back then. Back to the exact moment I had been singling her out.” He looked off towards the horizon and sighed. “Do you know why they called me ‘Swordless’ Squall on the wanted posters?”
“Honestly, I didn’t care, at the time. Though, I would assume that your fondness of hooficuffs would play into it,” Grapes replied with a wan smile.
“Oh, very much so. On the Buttercup there was a proud tradition that a pirate could only carry a sword that they ‘earned’. You fought another crew and took someone’s sword, bingo bango bongo, you’re armed and dangerous… only I realised I liked the hitting ponies part more than swingin’ swords about. Became rather good at it, and infamous FOR it.” he examined his hooves and smiled. “Started my teeth collection back then. Figured that the famous Captain Diamond Blade’s teeth would make a fine prize… although by then the novelty of puttin’ the hurt on other ponies was gettin’ kinda… kinda… empty.”
“Isn’t one of our ancestors…” Dusty asked, raising an eyebrow.
“More yours than mine, Dusty,” Grapes quipped.
“Yeah, but you do look like that old portrait in Grandma’s hallway,” Dusty observed.
“I do?” Grapes asked, raising her eyebrows. “I look like Diamond Blade?”
“You’re related to her?” Squall said, tilting his head to the side. “Colors are all different and you wear your mane non-regulation but now that I think of it, yeah. There is some of her in there.”
“Well yeah, I’m half Earth Pony. My colors would be different. Grandfather is where Dusty, and his dad, get their tan coloration,” Grapes asserted.
“Well you take more after Captain Diamond Blade than her sister, if that’s any consolation,” the old sailor chuckled. “She was stunned by the fact that a young buck turned into an old codger right before her eyes, but only for a moment. Then she attacked and well… I disarmed her and we had a brief chat.”
“Diamond Blade had a sister?” Grapes asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh yes. She often used her as a bad example.” Squall said. “Pretty but stuck-up thing that put too much emphasis on bloodlines than family.”
“Wow, that sounds familiar,” Dusty observed with an eyeroll.
“All except for the ‘pretty’ part, Dusty.” Grapes commented. “I can’t imagine that wrinkled old nag ever being pretty… inside OR out. then again I’m biased.”
“Boy is that the truth,” Dusty murmured, his eyes flicking to Queenie.
“Aye. You’d have liked Diamond Blade. She was far more open-minded. She accepted an inexperienced young pirate transforming into a far more dangerous old mariner to be some manner of outside influence.”
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“You want me to WHAT?” shouted Captain Diamond Blade over the din of the battle. It was madness, right in the middle of one of the biggest missions of her military career and one of the ponies that she had been ordered to capture, by NAME, had become an old salt who disarmed her with the ease of a parent pulling a dangerous tool from the grasp of a child. Then he expected her to accept that he was the same pony, just decades older and gave her a glimpse of the future… that was hard to swallow.
“Offer him a way out, Ad… I mean Captain.” Squall corrected himself, trying to keep his mind in the here and now… which was the past. “I got me a feeling that this change ain’t going to last forever so this here advice is important to know. Swordless Squall is just going through the motions these days. He’s a pirate because he can’t think of anything else to be. His world view is too tiny for his potential. He needs to see that there’s another future out there for him. One that doesn’t mean he HAS to beat ponies up for a living.”
“So assuming what you’re saying is true, and I’m not saying it is, what am I supposed to do?” Diamond Blade gave a derisive snort. “Draft him into her highness' royal navy?”
The sea-foam green pony arched an eyebrow and smirked at her, causing the captain of the HHS Nonesuch to facehoof.
“Oh, for the love of Celestia…”
“You always were quick on the uptake… ADMIRAL.” The way he said that title was completely without sarcasm or irony.
“You mean I actually live long enough to become an admiral?”
“Aye. Same as ‘Swordless’ may live long enough to become a captain. I’m not asking for you to pull the sun and moon from the sky, Diamond Blade. Give him a chance… let him turn the princess’ evidence against the others and arrange his… penance to be a stint in the Navy. You got so much to gain, and very little to lose.”
The unicorn was rather surprised that the fighters around them hadn’t noticed that two ponies had stopped to have a brief discussion right in the middle of a boarding party. She looked the surprise visitor from the future over. She had studied the wanted posters of The Buttercup’s villainous crew; she could see a lot of living in the leathery face of the pony across from her, but it was still Swordless Squall under there. He made a good point, offering his younger self a way out would cost her nothing but a breath. If he refused, she’d take him down good and hard. But.. if he accepted. If he gave testimony against his own crewmates at the trial it would be a major coup for her and justice in general. If she could make an honest pony out of one of the more infamous pirates out here then it would validate her life in general. If he put everything he learned as a pirate towards a life serving her highness… there was no telling how far he could go. She looked the old pegasus stallion in the eyes and returned his smirk.
“Do I get to live long enough to see you make captain?”
“Oh yes, ma’am,” he said with a laugh. “You told… will tell me that you wouldn’t have missed it for all the tea in the Chineigh’s empire.”
“Fine. One chance. But if you… he screws up…”
“...Then, Captain,” Squall said giving her a smart salute. “you have my permission for you to break his wings and use him for pillow stuffing.”
------------------------------------------------------------
“I have a question,” Grapes said. “Why ‘Buttercup’?”
“Why…?” Squall stared at Grapes for a moment before breaking out laughing. “OH! Oh, you mean why is the name of the most dreaded pirate ship to sail the six seas ‘Buttercup’? Oh… because WE never named her. When Captain Dreadbeard first got her, he stole it from a Baltimare shipyard. She was one of only two of her kind. Pleasure ships meant to ferry the rich about to exotic places and survive whatever the sea may throw at it. He made sure there were only two out there by making a point of destroying her blueprints while he was there. However there was one problem… she was already christened by her intended owner.”
“Well why didn’t they just rename it?” Earshot asked.
“Because lad, it’s bad luck to name a ship twice. One of the worst kinds too. So the captain decided it would be interesting to make such a fancy name one that ponies only whispered in fear.”
“And later you find out that ‘Buttercup’ is the name of the Princess Bride,” Grapes said with a small smile.
“Funny how life turns out, ain’t it lass?” Squall asked.
“Indeed, it is,” Grapes replied. “All right. Let’s see what we can salvage.”
-----------------------------
“Well sugarcube. How ya holdin’ up?”
“Just taking it one day at the time,” Grapes replied.
“Best way to do it.” Applejack said, in her sweet southern drawl. “Can Ah show ya somethin’? Ah’m sure you and yer fancy magic book learnin’ will jest LOVE it all.”
“You sure you don’t want to show this to Twilight first? The only ‘magic book learning’ I got was from Mom’s collection she brought from Canterlot,” Grapes asked, as they trotted along.
“Twi has a lot on her plate right now. Turns out there’s a whole heap of paperwork around puttin’ an ‘enemy of the realm’ in any kind of prison.” Sour Grapes stiffened for a moment when she heard that phrase, but quickly composed herself. “Ah jest want you to let me know if it’s worth draggin’ her flank out to mah farm before Ah actually do it.”
AJ led her into the apple family orchard and after about five minutes of walking in silence she glanced over at Sour Grapes.
“Notice anything peculiar, Cousin?”
“Aside from there not being any apples in these particular trees, nothing much,” Grapes replied before she took a closer look at the trees. “No clue what you’re going to do with all the coconuts, though.”
"Got it in one, sugarcube. A whole quarter of mah trees are full of these here cow-nuts. Ah found out about them when Ah bucked one tree and woke up an hour later with a whopper of a headache and a dent in mah hat. What in tarnation am Ah supposed to do with hundreds of these here bearded bowling balls?"
It was at this moment when a confusion of orange, yellow, and white burst onto the scene accompanied by the high pitched twanging of a ukulele.
"Cutiemark Crusaders Hula Dancers! YAAAAY!"
"Now that there is just plain WRONG! Applebloom! You get that there grass skirt and cow-nut thing off this instant!"
"Applejack. They're called coconuts," Grapes said with a roll of her eyes.
"Well ain't Ah sayin’ just that? Ah mean I know a cow-nut when Ah see one.”
"No, you're saying 'cow-nut'."
"Really? Cain't figure why Ah'd say it like that." Applejack said, picking up a coconut and cracking it open, before offering half to Grapes. "Have some milk. It'll do ya good."
"...Oh... That's why you call it a..." Grapes observed, taking a sip. “Though they are edible. You can make cream pies, and cakes with them… Though I’d use the proper name of ‘coconut cream pie’, and ‘coconut cake’. Calling them cow-nut pie and/or cake would, A. confuse ponies, and B. might get the bovine community upset. Gryphon cowherds, a long time ago, used to geld bulls to ‘calm them down’.”
Applejack and three small fillies all cringed at the same time before Applebloom looked up at her sister.
“What’s geldin’, and why does it sound bad?”
“Standard answer number one,” Grapes said before Applejack could answer.
“Go an’ ask Granny?” Applebloom asked.
“We’ll explain when you are older,” Grapes clarified.
“That works too,” Applejack agreed before looking at the CMC. “When yer a little older we’ll explain it.”
“I think Earshot’s keeping a list,” Grapes said with a chuckle. “I’m going to have a lot to explain when he’s older.”
“So what do y’all think about the trees? Worth askin’ Twi to come take a look-see?”
“Well I sure as hay don’t know why your apples have turned into coconuts,” Grapes replied. “Other than that monster that altered the landscape a few days ago being responsible for it.”
“Yeah. Ah thought about that too. Ah wonder if it’s like the time these here troublemakers tried to use Big Mac as a dress dummy for a cutie mark in dressmakin’. Stretched the fabric so bad it never did go back to normal.”
“That makes sense, actually,” Grapes said with a nod.
“It does?”
“You remember how the landscape was warped, altered, and generally stretched all out of proportion,” Grapes replied. “That would leave some… threads here and there.”
“Why am Ah suddenly thinkin’ of Rarity darning holes in socks?”
“Why are you thinking of Rarity at all?” Grapes asked, raising an eyebrow. “Or even socks, for that matter…”
“Now don’t you start!” Applejack growled at Grapes before looking at the Cutiemark Crusaders and their inquisitive glances. “Answer Number One! Okay?”
“Don’t you three have some ridiculously life-threatening plan to find your cutie marks that somehow, tangentially, involves tree sap to get back to?” Grapes asked.
“Wellll....” Applebloom said slowly, glancing over at her sister. “We were thinking of seeing if we could get our cutiemarks in running a tiki bar.”
“A tiki bar?” Grapes asked. “Do you even know what a tiki bar is?”
“We asked around town what we could do with a lot of cow-nuts… I mean coconuts.” Sweetie Belle happily explained. “We got a lot of advice, and Miss Berry Punch suggested we try running a tiki bar.”
“Yeah! She even gave us a few recipes for virgil tiki drinks,” Scootaloo added.
“Virgil… And you went to Berry Punch…” Grapes said with a sigh. “Ladies, no. Just no.”
“Well she came by the family stall and Ah was askin’ everypony about it so…” Applebloom started before Applejack pressed a hoof to her lips.
“Applebloom. When yer shoulder deep, best you jest stop shovelin’.”
“Yeff Abblejab.”
“That’s a good young’un. Now the three of you run along. Maybe… get yer cutiemarks in homework doin’ fer a change.”
“Coconuts. I think I can do something with coconuts. Or at least the milk. They can be sold, too. We don’t often see fresh coconuts in this part of Equestria,” Grapes observed. “It’s all usually pre-shredded, and magically sealed.”
“That’d be interesting. Oh! Speakin’ of which… Ah got an invite to the palace in a few days. Some sorta ceremony Celestia wants to give me and the gals,” Applejack said with shrug.
“Really? You’re going actually going to get some recognition for being a hero? About darned time,” Grapes said with a huff. “Who else do you think’s going to be there?”
“Dunno. When the Princess says show up, Ah don’t stand around jawin’ about it. Ah jest show up. Figure she’ll tell us the guest list if she feels it’s important enough.”
“Fine. Have fun visiting the castle,” Grapes said with a chuckle. “I’ve got to get back to the vineyard, and find out what’s going on--”
“Say… You wouldn’t happen to wanna drop by and watch me get a fancy award and all, would ya? Rest of the family’s comin’ along fer the ride t’cheer me on.”
“Yeah. That may be an interesting,” Grapes said, looking thoughtful. “That’s where that statue is, right? The one of that beast?”
“Yeah. I’ll bet the Princess put Discord right back up on that pedestal where she can keep an eye on his smug stone carcass. Bet that’s what they mean by that whole thing with closeness and yer friends and enemies,” said Applejack.
“Don’t call that beast by a name. It doesn’t deserve one. That monster doesn’t deserve anything!” Grapes uttered with a growl. “Except to be destroyed.”
“Woah there, Sour. Easy girl,” Applejack said, holding her hooves up defensively. “We all got bad memories from yesterday, some of us more than others. But gettin’ all riled up ain’t gonna solve nothin’.”
“That evil creature maimed a foal for its own sick, perverted, twisted, depraved amusement,” Grapes asserted. “It is a monster, and should be thought of as such.”
“Maimed? Who was it?”
“Earshot,” Grapes said. “It stole his ears.”
“Shoulda guessed. Discord took Dash and Fluttershy’s wings and Twi and Rarity’s horns back in the maze to make it a ‘fair’ contest. Takin’ the ears off a colt who can hear a horsefly poot in Trotsylvania from here only seems appropriate for his bad sense of humor.”
“Only a monster would attack a foal,” Grapes uttered with a growl.
“Probably scared him out of a few years’ growth, that’s for certain. Applebloom got off lucky in comparison. All mister jigsaw puzzle did to Applebloom was make her think she was a tree,” She said with a smirk. “Buried herself up to her neck in topsoil… probably a good thing Big Mac never found her while he thought he was a dog.”
“Yeah. I met him while he was thinking he was a dog. That was… weird,” Grapes uttered. “He licked me.”
“He licked Twilight too.” Applejack chuckled. “When Ah asked him if he remembered that he just winked at me and said ‘Enope’.”
Grapes sighed. “Well… I’ll head home, and pack… And see what’s going on with my vineyard. If your apples were altered I’m sure my grapes have been changed, too.”
“Probably. Look, Sour, I know all of that stuff got yer dander all up. It’s why Ah’m invitin’ you along fer the show. A change of scenery will do ya good, even if it’s fer a day or two.” She paused and rubbed the back of her neck. “Don’t suppose you know any place that would put up with puttin’ up Granny, Mac and Applebloom fer a day or two in Canterlot, would ya?”
“If Celestia didn’t already provide accommodations for your whole family in the castle proper, you can try the Dewdrop Inn,” Grapes said with a smile. “They’ve got the best wheatgrass smoothies, and they’re not expensive at all.”
“Easy on the bitbag, eh? Granny will love that. Okay.” Applejack gave Grapes an envelope with Celestia’s crest on it. “This’ll get you past any cranky guards. Careful you don’t lose it though, only the Princess knows how to make these here invitations.”
“Awesome,” Grapes said with a smile, looking at the invitation. “I’ll be there.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Okay. Why are you all here?” Dusty asked, as he looked from Thistledown, to Firestormer, as the duo came into his room.
“Well, ‘Stormer here mentioned that you were having some personal problems.” Thistledown began. “Problems that may make you jump to conclusions or make a rash decision. I’ve had rashes from bad decisions and believe me, they’re not fun at all.”
“Jump to conclusions?” Dusty asked. “What are you talking about?”
“Earlier you were considering some things that you normally wouldn't Dusty.” Firestormer said looking the athlete in the eye. “Now, normally I wouldn’t put a lot of stock in that but I’ve been chased by that particular dog before and you do NOT wanna go there.”
“Firestormer… When I screw up, it’s usually only me that’s hurt. This time I ruined the finances of a whole town, and made Queenie hate me, because I hurt her homeland,” Dusty said quietly. “I usually love what I do, performing for the crowds, and making them happy. This time, though, all I did was bring pain.”
“Buddy, seriously. You need to let go of that. What’s done is done, and sometimes there’s nothing that you can do about it even when it’s happening.” Firestormer implored.
“There are some things I’ve put into motion, to try and make them some money… I’ve also been sending my salary there,” Dusty said quietly
“Sending your… oh man.” Firestormer said with a gentle facehoof. “You really are guilt-wracked. Look… Dusty. You can’t keep kicking yourself over this. I know how it feels to look around at a disaster and think that you could have done more. That somehow things may have been different if you tried something else. It’s a sick heavy feeling that doesn’t wanna leave you but you gotta realise that we’re mortal. No matter what gifts we have, that won’t change, and there’s only so much we can change things. ...buck, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”
“You talk like you’ve been there, Sparky,” Dusty said with a wry smile.
“Storms of all kinds can be fierce but mix fire in there and it’s as if it’s taking things personally.” The orange pegasus said quietly. “More than once I’ve stood in the middle of a field of ash that was once a town and looked at what a forest fire or lava or what-have you has erased it off the face of Equestria. We saved the citizens but when they come back hoping something is left… and you just don’t have the right words to… to…”
“Yeah, but that’s a volcano, or a forest fire… I set off the cannon, Sparky. Sure I didn’t load it, but I set it off… And Queenie hates me. She does. She was warming up, then the temperature went right back down to sub-frigid… But then, I suggested the money she’d been… making could be tainted by chaos and using it to help her homeland could cause more harm than good...” Dusty uttered with a sigh.
“She takes matters of her homeland very personally,” Firestormer agreed. “If the town weren’t a monarchy she’d make a great mayor.”
“Yeah…” Dusty said quietly. “‘The greatest distinction is service to others’. She said that...”
“Yeah, Queenie’s got a few priorities right.” Firestormer smiled, before noticing Thistledown scribbling away in his notebook. “What are you doing, Thistledown?”
“Me? Oh... ah... Just getting a few quick… sketches in. Don’t mind me. Carry on.”
“What makes you say that I’m jumping to conclusions, though?” Dusty asked.
“Because I’ve seen what’s in those fields out there.” Firestormer turned around and gestured out Dusty’s window to the white frames stretching off as far as the eye could see, each adorned with green grape vines and yet… no grapes. Wherever a cluster of grapes should have been, was a cluster of shriveled up raisins. “Whatever that long-faced freak of nature did had a lingering effect on Sour Grapes’ crops.. Can’t exactly squeeze wine from a rasin. At least I’m pretty sure you can’t. Anyways it means the source of your income has… ah… shriveled up?”
“Yeah… I can’t make any money to send to the Valley, if I can’t work,” Dusty said quietly. “By the way, that pun was awful.”
“Sorry. Those one liners can sometimes flop.”
“Like a landed herring, dude,” Dusty said with a chuckle.
“Look. In all seriousness Dusty… I know I haven’t known you all THAT long but I’m pretty sure I know you well enough to know what your next action is gonna be.”
“And what do you think that is, Sparky?” Dusty asked with a chuckle. “It’s not going to be self-destructive, if that’s what you suspect. Unless you count exposure to idiocy as self-destructive.”
“Thought as much,” Firestormer said with a sigh. “You’re gonna go back to Pave Diamond and let her auction you off to the highest bidder.”
“Only way to get my inheritance. Give up my freedom, so Queenie can have some of her own,” Dusty said with a sigh. “She should be free to find true love.”
“That is one of the most noble things I’ve ever heard…” said Summer Squall as he entered Dusty’s room, squeezing himself through the open window. “And by ‘noble’, of course I mean ‘foolhardy, short sighted, and foalish’. Sorry to barge in boys, but I couldn’t help but overhear you when you chose to talk right next to an open window that was next to the tree I was taken me nap in.”
“What is it with pegasi and sleeping in trees?” Dusty asked. “It’s like you guys are, like, part bird or something.”
“Fancy that,” Squall said, giving his wings a little shake before folding them against his flanks. “And so here we are. Me finally have’n gotten a big clue as to how me own past came to be, and you… well, jest look at you.”
“Pathetic, ain’t I?” Dusty said with a chuckle.
“Aye. But then again so was I, once upon a time.” Squall moved alongside Dusty and extended a wing over his shoulders. At first Dusty wasn’t sure what was going on but then he realised he was being herded away from the others. “Come lad. Walk with me, talk with me.”
“Okay,” Dusty said, getting up, and walking along with Squall out of the bunkhouse. “So… what are we going to talk about?”
“About yer intended long walk off that short pier… so to speak,” the mariner said patiently. “Look, lad. Yer not the only pony out there who had a thing or two they’d do anything in the world to undo. I may not be the wisest of elders but I’d like to think I got a thing or two in me noggin to share when it’s needed.”
“You’re going to share with me?”
“Of course. You’ll forgive me if I don’t go into a long rambling yarn about me mispent youth as a pirate with over FIVE Thousand bits on his head.” Squall said with a wink. “Still got the wanted posters. Was actually quite proud of them, they really got me good side.”
“I think I saw you as a younger stallion, a bit ago,” Dusty said with a smile.
“You just may have. Back on topic, they say idle hooves are mischief's workshop, I also found that long lulls give me far too much time to live in me own head. Reviewing me life, picking out all the things I regret and examining them… and believe me. I got a lot of regrets.” Squall sighed and leaned on the fence looking across the road at the Apple property. “Trust me… what you did ain’t nothin’ compared to a few things I’ve pulled. But this ain’t about comparin’ apples and oranges. This is about you. One reason I like workin’ here is the labour at least gives me something to do while I take a hard look at my past and what my future has. You and me are the same like that, lad. We’re ponies of action. We don’t like being idle for long, even if the work we do is boring and repetitive we enjoy it more than doing buck-all.”
“Yeah. That sounds like it.”
“And right now, Miss Grapes ain’t got much in the way of work for any of us, so it’s making you think that gettin’ hitched into a loveless marriage is the best idea you got. That there’s the desperation talkin’, lad.”
“My Dad’s having that snake of a manager investigated, so something may come out of that,” Dusty observed with a wan smile.
“Glad to hear that, lad. One less thing hangin’ over yer head.”
“Yeah. That’s one thing,” Dusty said with a smile.
“Look lad... Dusty. You remind me a lot of me as a colt. Less angry at the world, but just as headstrong and just as foalish at times, but I can see you got a good heart in there. You want to do right, you want to be good. And right now we need to get you someplace you can do some honest labor and clear your head enough to take a hard look at yer options.”
“Sounds good, Cap’in. What do you have in mind?” Dusty asked.
“You ever really think about that there mark of yers?” Squall said poking Dusty’s with his hoof. “I mean REALLY think about it? Do you really believe that it’s limited to just snowboards and surfboards?”
“Of course not. I’d be good at anything that sends up a spray that can glitter in the sun. Water or snow,” Dusty replied.
“You ever think that part of that may actually involve a life AT sea?”
“Actually… no. Never thought about it that way. Never thought of going off to sea at all… Why have I never thought about that? Grandma would NEVER be able to find me,” Dusty said with a grin.
“Aye. Go under another name and as far as she would know ye’d be lost at sea. How about Rusty? Sounds enough like Dusty to be comfortable fer ya. Rusty... Nails sounds like a good name. Trim yer mane a mite so it don’t catch on the rigging, change yer parka fer some sailing garb. Even yer own father may have trouble recognisin’ ya.”
“Sounds like an idea. I’m all for that. I’m sure it’ll take time to make the arrangements, and I’ve got to get this brace off, before I go to sea. Supposed to see the Doc, in a few days,” Dusty observed. “And maybe check out the military surplus store.”
“You’ll look sharp in a Dixie Cup hat,” Squall said with a chuckle.
“A what kind of hat?” Dusty asked.
“A Dixie Cup Hat… You know… the little white hat you see sailors wear.”
“A sailor hat. Why do you call it a ‘Dixie Cup hat’?” Dusty asked.
“Cause… that’s what it’s called. I don’t have all the answers, lad,” Squall asserted with a roll of his eyes.
“Right. Well, I need to see about this brace, and check in with Dad… Tell Grapes, Firestormer and Thistle where I’m going…” Dusty said obviously making a mental checklist. “Military surplus store for a go bag, and maybe a mess kit, and some other sundries… Knot-tying manual…”
“I think I got a few of them manuals from my navel days. A little time at sea will help sort you out, of that I’m sure. You’ll find out very quickly if you take to it or not, you’ll learn new skills, see new locations, if nothin’ else lad, you’ll be making a few more bits while you get yer fewmits together on this issue.”
“Sounds like a good plan. And Avalanche Valley could use the bits…” Dusty observed with a nod. “Let me see that manual, okay? Maybe get a head start on the knots.”
“Right. And after that I’ll send a letter to me friends. I’m sure one of them will need an extra quad of hooves. Maybe Captain Bermudan Rig. Commands a Kelp-fisher, it’s long hours but life on any boat is a full-time job.”
“Sounds good. How long do you think I should stay aboard?” Dusty asked. “The full circle of their fishing route?”
“Well unless you got wings and can tirelessly navigate over thousands of miles of featureless ocean, or gills to swim the distance… I’d say yes. No sense in doing things half-measures, Lad.”
“Will do, Cap’n,” Dusty said, saluting.
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“Okay, everypony, pack for all weathers. It’s going to be a big shindig, but not fancy-shmancy, so no need for suit and tie, but DO bring something formal, in case we stumble upon something fancy-shmancy, or somepony decides to invite us to a formal affair,” Grapes said, as they gathered in the common room of the bunkhouse. “Anybody see Dusty?”
“He had to go into town, Miss Grapes,” Streamline said as he passed through
“It’s not Black Tie, is it?” Firestormer asked. “I always feel weird in those monkey suits no matter what mom says.”
“Relax, Firestormer,” Stormfront chuckled. “Since when do the Storm-Riders show up in that sort of thing? Make sure what you wear is clean, pressed and better than anything made from denim.”
“Non perishable snacks, drinks that are good chilled or not, and plenty of bits,” Grapes said nodding. “We’re going to be at the mercy of trains their schedules and their on-board commissary, so we need to be able to get nourishment easily, and inexpensively. Also, be sure whatever you bring won’t try to grow legs and make a run for it. That of course is directed at you, Earshot, but I’m also talking about valuables, that are small and pocketable.”
“Yes, Miss Grapes. I can go all-vegetarian for a few days.”
“Thanks, Earshot,” Grapes said with a smile. “Dusty’s in town for a bit… Actually I don’t understand what’s taking him so long.”
“Oh, hey…” Dusty said, coming into the bunkhouse. “Y’all going to Canterlot? I’ve… made other arrangements… I can’t really go to Canterlot.”
“I understand, Dusty,” Grapes said with a nod.
“You guys have fun,” the blonde unicorn said with a smile, turning to head upstairs. Dusty pulled out a “Dixie Cup” hat, an envelope stuck in its cuff. He opened the letter, reading the instructions. Dusty pulled out the sea bag he picked up at the military surplus store, and started packing his meager possessions.
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A couple of days later, they were at the palace in Canterlot. The big celebration was set for later that week, and Sour Grapes and the Storm Riders had been left to their own devices for the most part. Sour Grapes was wandering around, checking out the castle. To be honest she was a little surprised at how much freedom she and the Storm Riders were given to move about the grounds. Of course the Storm Riders did have an official ‘Royal’ in their official designation which probably came with some above-average freedoms. As for herself, there was the possibility that both the Princess and the Royal Vizier had some say in a certain snarky winemaker being given some slack with the royal guards. Never mind the possibility of being something of an unofficial Royal Winemaker.
She had brought a few more bottles with her just to make certain that her visit wouldn’t just be her enjoying herself exclusively. If she did she’d be busy trying to find something to do, at least this way once the selection was added to the wine cellar, she would feel as if her task was already done and she could enjoy the ceremony. Still, something was making her skin itch every time she looked at the maze in the garden. So Grapes decided to go and investigate, and see what was causing that irritation.
The Maze was surprisingly complex, although not impossible to navigate… or escape (whoever was in charge of the topiary around here saw fit to give it multiple exit points). Sour Grapes approached her time in it with the left-hoof method. Always keeping one wall to her left side and following it. It was one of the most efficient ways to transverse a maze without getting lost. It wasn’t long before she came across a clearing within, and in it she saw the statue she remembered from last time. The same Draconequis, but his position has changed. Before, he had looked amused, now his face held an expression of terror. Could that be…
“Where’s a sledgehammer when I need one,” Grapes muttered to herself.
Sour Grapes approached, frowning at the statue, her hackles raised at the very sight of him. Her focus was so much on the fiend and his state of stone slumber that she nearly tripped over the small Night Pony colt who was standing in front of it. She blinked, and now that she was aware of him, recognised Earshot. She wondered what made him gravitate to the beast that did him such harm just a few days ago.
“Hello Miss Grapes. Sorry I wasn’t paying attention, I didn’t hear you coming.”
“So… What brings you here, Earshot?” Grapes asked.
“The others are all doing things and I kinda got bored, so I asked the guards if there was anything to do and Mister Tarnished Barding, he’s the Captain of the guard, he’s a friend of Mister Squall, anyways Mister Tarnished Barding suggested I try out the hedge maze without flying.” He paused to take a breath. “It’s fun, reminds me a little of Stygian Cove’s passages only… greener. Anyways I found my way here. And here is where HE is.”
Earshot pointed at the statue and smiled. The fact that Earshot referred to a statue as a ‘he’ meant only that this was indeed the real deal cast in stone. Applejack had a point about this being Celestia’s way of keeping an eye on him. This part of the maze was probably visible from half the windows in the palace.
“I know your ears are good, Earshot. Can you hear anything from this worthless lump?”
“Kinda. Does ‘Oil Can’ mean anything to you?”
“That abomination must have gotten it from somewhere,” Grapes observed.
“Please don’t call him a… an ‘abomination’ Miss Grapes. He has a name.”
“That beast doesn’t deserve to have a name.”
“Maybe… but it wasn’t that long ago you found out about a pony who likes to call ME an ‘Abomination’. You told me that it was wrong then, is it any different now?”
“Well… Wouldn’t you say that monster is an abomination? You are a type of pony, Earshot, plain and simple. That beast is a mish-mash of animals conglomerated together, and made into a discordant mess, who wants to make everypony suffer,” Grapes replied. “He stole your ears. Only monsters hurt foals, deliberately. Only the most abominable of creatures could thrive on pain and suffering.”
“Miss Grapes. I once was cornered by a Cryscorpion in a side tunnel. They’re small things, pretty as coloured glass but their stings hurt like fire in your veins. My father was there and he told me to give it a name, because the moment you give a name to something it defines them, gives them shape, steals some of their power and makes them part of your world instead of you being part of theirs. I wound up giving it the name Mister Tinkles because of the sound it made moving across the rocks. Somehow being able to call it by name made things better for me and I felt a little less afraid of it.”
“So what happened?”
“I was able to be brave enough to inch past it and to my Dad. He was right. There are power in names.”
“So what do you wanna call him?” Grapes asked, gesturing at the statue. “Stinky?”
“No.” Earshot said giggling. “I think his name was fine the way it was. Discord. Sound that failed to become music. He’s the opposite of harmony, so he’s just... noise. Kinda feel sorry for him though.”
“You feel sorry for him? Oh wait, of course you do.You wouldn’t be you if you couldn’t feel sorry for something that tried to hurt you. So, tell me. Why would you feel sorry for… ‘Discord’?”
“Because unless he learns how to get along with others, he’ll always be alone in the world.”
Grapes was about to leave with Earshot before she looked back at the statue and smirked.
“I hope you are alone for a very, very long time… Discord.”