“Why are fillies so confusing and... strange?” Sumac looked up at Trixie and was glad that he hadn’t said ‘weird.’ Something almost like a smile appeared on Trixie’s muzzle and Sumac frowned. This was serious. He noticed a mischievous gleam in Trixie’s eyes.
“You know, Trixie was once a filly…”
“How long ago was that?” The smile lurking on Trixie’s muzzle vanished and he saw Trixie roll her eyes. He blinked, not certain what he had done wrong, or why Trixie was reacting the way she was.
“You know, Sumac, you’re still adorable enough to get away with almost anything, but it isn’t going to last forever.” Trixie sighed, reached out, and brushed Sumac’s mane out of his face with her foreleg. “When everything settles down, you’re going to have a chance to do some last minute studying. There are lots of books here to help you. We’re midway up the list, so you have plenty of time to get in some last minute studying.”
“What if I fail?” Sumac asked.
“What do you mean?” Trixie lowered her head down until she was almost nose to nose with Sumac. “You look worried, kiddo. What’s wrong?”
“What if I mess this up? What if I fail? What if I’m not good enough? What happens to us?” Sumac took a deep breath and then looked away. “What if I let you down?”
Placing her hoof beneath Sumac’s chin, Trixie turned his head so she could look into his bright green eyes. “We have nothing to lose… nothing changes. You and I continue on the road together and maybe we try again next year. But nothing changes between us. I just want you to do your best, that’s all.”
“Pebble is scary smart. She uses a lot of big words and I think she reads a lot.” Sumac shook his head. “I don’t know if I belong here.”
“Nonsense,” Trixie replied. She placed her hoof over Sumac’s lips to silence him. “I think you’ll do just fine. Up for a nice supper? There is going to be a big greeting supper later. But right now, you have to do an interview. Ready for an interview?”
“I dunno.” Sumac shrugged.
“Well, let’s just assume that you are.”
As Trixie pushed the door open, Sumac peered inside the room. Twilight’s castle was full of rooms. Long hallways, seemingly endless, and who knows how many doors. Millions, perhaps. Sumac reconsidered. Perhaps he was overestimating again. There hadn’t been quite that many wagons.
Inside was a table, a stained glass lamp made of many colours, a few potted plants, some bookshelves, one smiling unicorn mare, and a few empty chairs that he and Trixie could sit in. Sumac focused on the mare. She was a little older, friendly, light grey, and had a two tone mane of greyish white and purple. Her eyes were a brilliant shade of blue and looked to be very kind. Sumac decided that he liked her. He trotted through the door, smiled, and then climbed up into a chair next to the table.
“Hello… my name is Twilight Velvet. I am Twilight Sparkle’s mother. You, you must be Sumac. Are you up for a little interview?” The mare leaned forwards over the table and looked at Sumac, an inviting smile on her muzzle.
Bringing himself up to his full height, Sumac could barely see over the table. He placed his forehooves on the table edge, cleared his throat, and attempted to look as grown up as possible. This was serious business. Princess Twilight Sparkle’s mother was doing the interview. There was a soft squeak of wood as Trixie sat down in the chair beside him.
“This will not be much of an interview if I can’t get you to talk.” Twilight Velvet beamed at Sumac, lifted a pen, and made ready to write on a sheet of paper. “Let’s start with your name. Can you tell me your name?”
“Sumac Apple.” There was a bit too much squeak in Sumac’s voice. He suffered an inwards cringe and wished he sounded a bit more grown up. His ears drooped a bit, but he didn’t feel them sag.
“Try not be nervous, Sumac. There are no wrong answers. This is only an interview,” Twilight Velvet said in a patient, reassuring voice. “So many nervous little foals. Reminds me of when my little Twily tried to get into school.” She wrote something down upon the paper, her pen making scritchy-scratchy sounds.
Sumac’s ears stood back up when Trixie began to giggle beside him. He turned to look at her and saw that she was covering her mouth with her foreleg. He returned his attention to Twilight Velvet, and saw that she was about to speak.
“Do you have a favourite colour?” Twilight Velvet asked.
“Um…” Sumac gave this some thought. He liked all kinds of colours. Picking just one was difficult. Colours had meaning, he had read about that in a book. There were happy colours, and sad colours, and colours that showed passion. Sumac fidgeted in his chair. “I like yellow.”
“Yellow is always such a cheerful colour.” Twilight Velvet’s pen, surrounded by the cerise glow of her magic, moved with a careful slowness as it wrote down each letter. “Are you a cheerful colt, Sumac?”
“I try to be,” Sumac replied.
“You try to be?” Twilight Velvet’s eyes narrowed.
Were there wrong answers? Sumac felt a little panicked. Twilight’s mother was looking at him funny. He felt a tightness around his barrel. He blinked a few times, trying to think about what to say. He let out a nervous cough and licked his now dry lips while wishing for a glass of water.
“There are a lot of sad things in the world, like the memorial for Percheron and Taureau. Sometimes I like to sit down and think about the lessons that life has to teach me.” Sumac coughed again, feeling a nervous tickle in his throat. “Sometimes I just think about stuff and when I think really hard, it’s hard to be cheerful.”
“I see.” Twilight Velvet’s pen wrote down every word that Sumac said, leaving nothing out. “We have ourselves a little thinker. Tell me, Sumac, there are moments when you are cheerful, right?”
Sumac smiled. “Sure. I like being inside of the wagon and hearing the rain on the roof. I’m on the inside and the rain is on the outside and it feels good to be all snuggled up in a blanket.”
“It sure does,” Twilight Velvet said in agreement, her pen still writing. “What about studying? Do you like studying?”
“Yeah I do,” Sumac’s head bobbed up and down from his enthusiasm, “studying is great. It means we can stop walking and get some rest. Trixie makes sure that I read every day and she gives me quizzes and tests and makes me write essays.” Sumac, an observant little colt, noticed that Twilight Velvet glanced over at Trixie for a moment. He did not turn away to see Trixie’s reaction however.
“So tell me, Sumac, is there anything that you think that you are good at? Do you feel that you are gifted? It’s not boasting or bragging, we want to see if you have any skills that stand out. I see that you don’t have your cutie mark just yet.”
Sumac reached up with his right foreleg and rubbed his ear with his hoof. He was not prepared for this question. He didn’t know what he was good at. He could hear Trixie breathing beside him and he had some vague understanding that this was important to her. If he was good at something, it showed that she was a good teacher. The problem, as Sumac saw it, was that he was average. He wasn’t sure what he was good at. He could pack the wagon and have everything stowed away in moments, but that didn’t seem all that special. Travel was all about organisation and making certain that everything was put away in its proper place. Everything that came out of the wagon had to go back into the wagon, and it all had to fit.
Sumac’s eyes narrowed as he tried to think about what he was good at. He was good at cutting paper snowflakes, at least he thought he was good, but that was nothing special, not something worth an answer. He could make pancakes without burning them, which he supposed was pretty good, but it wasn’t something special. He could tie knots, he could tie dozens of knots, life on the road had taught him the value of a well tied knot, but that was such a common skill and wasn’t anything special.
“No pressure,” Twilight Velvet said in a reassuring voice.
Sumac scowled. He hated when adults said ‘no pressure,’ because that always made the pressure worse. There was something he wasn’t good at, working under pressure. When Trixie gave him a lesson, there was seldom a time limit, he was free to work on it as he pleased, taking as much time as he needed. Trixie understood.
“Um, I’m kinda good at…” Sumac’s words trailed off and he closed his eyes.
“Good at what, dear?” Twilight Velvet’s brows furrowed. “Don’t be shy.”
Opening his eyes, Sumac took a deep breath. There was only one thing he could think of, but it wasn’t something he wanted to discuss in front of Princess Twilight Sparkle’s mother. He coughed again, the tickle in his throat now stronger.
“Oh my, you are a sensitive little soul, aren’t you? It’s okay to toot your own horn every now and then.” Twilight Velvet leaned forwards, still smiling, but looking a little worried.
What a choice of words. Tooting your own horn. Sumac swallowed, reached down, and rubbed his stomach. “Well, um, I’m good at…”
“What dear?” Twilight Velvet’s ear twitched.
“Uh, I’m good at farting.” As soon as he said the word, Sumac was overcome with regret and he wished that he could take it back. He heard a sharp wheeze come from Trixie and Twilight Velvet was giving him a blank stare.
“Darling, while most little colts believe that to be a skill worthy of mastery, it is something we all do.” Twilight Velvet paused, then the ghost of a smile lurked about her muzzle. “Even princesses.” The corners of Velvet’s mouth twitched and tried to pull upwards. “Tell me, Sumac, why do you believe that is a skill or something you can be good at? I am positive that a serious little thinker such as yourself has a most enlightening answer.”
“It takes a lot of skill and practice,” Sumac said in a squeaky, bashful, embarrassed voice. His ears felt hot. This was a horrible goof up. He realised that Twilight Velvet’s pen was writing everything down.
“Is that so?” Twilight Velvet asked. “Well, tell me, why do you believe that?”
“Well, just try making a mistake..” Sumac’s words came out in a flat, steady deadpan.
Beside him, Trixie let out a snort, then wheezed, then she snorted again, and then she sounded as though she was choking. Twilight Velvet’s face was contorting, her mouth moving around in weird ways, her lips pressing together. After a moment of making silly, funny looking faces, Twilight Velvet snorted, coughed, and then snorted again. The corner of Twilight Velvet’s eye was twitching.
“Sumac, if you will excuse me, I do believe that I need some fresh air.” Twilight Velvet coughed again, let out something that sounded a bit like a half swallowed, half choked laugh, and she covered her muzzle with her fetlock, clamping down tight.
Without warning, Trixie Lulamoon exploded with laughter and fell out of her chair.
Sitting by the wagon, Sumac let out a huff. He didn’t know what was so funny. Trixie was still laughing. After a little break, the interview had continued and both mares had continued to giggle the entire time. Sumac was certain they were laughing at him, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. He had brought it on himself.
Twilight Velvet had written down that he was a very funny little colt, much to Sumac’s dismay. Sullen, feeling a bit cranky, Sumac let go of another another sigh as Trixie went into the wagon. He could hear Trixie chuckling and muttering something about ‘straight delivery.’
Closing his eyes, he turned his face towards the sun, basking in its warmth. He could see bursts of colour playing across his eyelids, the bright sunlight somehow reaching through his skin to dazzle his eyes. He wondered how it worked and why he could see flashes of light and colour through closed eyes when he was facing the sun. He took another deep breath and felt a little better. It was frustrating being small when adults didn’t take you serious.
He heard Trixie nearby and the rustle of… The Bag. Turning his head, he opened his eyes, and half blinded, tried to focus on the imminent danger. Trixie had The Bag and her scrubbing brush. Still dazzled from the sun, Sumac looked around, trying to see, trying to plan his escape. Whimpering, he bolted.
And was caught right away in Trixie’s magic. Letting out a cry, Sumac protested his capture, kicking and wiggling. He couldn’t get free no matter how hard he tried. Using magic was dirty.
“You cheated!”
“Sorry, Sumac, but I didn’t feel like running all over Ponyville to catch you.” Trixie chuckled a bit and floated Sumac in front of her, bringing him nose to nose with her. Reaching out her hoof, she booped his nose. “You’re going to get a bath—”
“No!”
“—and then I’m going to give you a thorough brushing—”
“Noooooo!”
“—after that, I think your mane needs a trim—”
“No! No! No! You always get the scissors too close to my ears and it’s scary!”
“Sumac, it’s only scary because you won’t hold still. If you’d hold still, it wouldn’t be scary. And it would make everything so much easier. You need to look your best. Now come on… please be a good colt?”
“No trim!”
Sighing, Trixie understood that a little hope might make bath time easier, even if it was false hope. “We’ll see. It depends on how well you behave during your bath. Now come on, don’t make me embarrass you in front of everypony. Are you going to walk with me or am I going to have to carry you? If I have to carry you, I’m gonna call you ‘Schnookie-Wookums’ and make kissy faces the whole way.”
Oh, that’s so unfair, Sumac thought to himself. Scowling, he realised he had no choice. “Fine, I’ll walk.” Sighing, Sumac resigned himself to his terrible fate, knowing there was no way to run from it. He eyed The Bag where the horrible scissors lurked. He hated them, he hated the sound they made, and he had nightmares that the scissors slipped and then off his ear would come. He didn’t know what he had done to upset Princess Luna, but he had no doubt that the bad dreams involving scissors were somehow her fault.
Perhaps if he behaved, Trixie would skip the trim.