//------------------------------//
// The Old Craft 
// Story: Norrath, Earth, Equestria. A Construct's Journey 
// by Nimnul 
//------------------------------//

With Hearth's Warming Eve looming, it was high time to start thinking about gifts. The plan, such as it was, boiled down to crafting magic horseshoes for her close friends. That wasn't particularly ambitious in itself. Although Landshark had only recently learned to forge horseshoes, she did have many years of experience working with magical or enchanted material. Since she couldn't simply order enchanted bar stock from a steel mill, she was going to need the cooperation of unicorns to imbue her materials with magical potential, according to the methods researched by Twilight.

And although one particular unicorn was certainly not going to be available to lend direct assistance, Landshark still thought that Trixe could be indirectly helpful herself.

Therefore she'd arranged to meet the showmare at the Copperhead. She'd invited along her apprentices, although Greywack apparently had a previous engagement with some of his neighbors, which was fair enough, of course. She'd needed Soft Rime to attend, it simply had been the right thing to extend the invitation.

Landshark hadn't hit a bar with all of her friends at once in some time now. The last time was before she had learned much about Bon Bon, of course. Berry Punch never claimed to find it hard to watch others drink, but she also hadn't complained about the fact that they'd frequently met at either her home or Bon Bon's place.

Still, the Copperhead might be worth a try. She'd suggest it at some point, certainly. The atmosphere was quiet, if a little smokey. Most of the regulars seemed of middle age or older. It wasn't that she shared Lyra's concerns about the way ponies saw Bon Bon, but even if she had, the earth pony's lack of exuberance wouldn't cause anyone here to take an interest, and she was pretty sure none of Berry's old drinking buddies frequented the established either. The proprietor wasn't shy about cutting ponies off before they got drunk and rowdy. Plus, as she'd noticed previously, the place was frequented by members of the Ponyville police force. 

Although she had a clear motive for inviting Trixie, there was no reason not to have a pleasant evening as well.

"And in the end, the great war machine went to face a weapon some humans had unleashed in fear and desperation, endangering their own people as well as the construct. He remembered the words of his human friend, 'you are what you chose to be,' and met the danger head-on, the name of another great hero of fiction on his lips." 

Landshark snapped her jaws, having recounted the plot with audible enthusiasm. She had, of course, been somewhat vague in the details, not wishing to elaborate too much on the weapons used in the story. "Work of fiction, of course, but it was nice to see that humans were at least capable of contemplating the idea that a machine could be able to chose its loyalties." She chuckled. "Happy ending too, in the end they showed that, while dismantled, the heroic construct wasn't truly dead, and its parts were converging on one another, presumably to reassemble. I wish my limbs could pull that particular trick, but you can't have it all."

"Trixie thinks you should instead be glad that your own set of build-in reactions are rather less immediately violent. Or, in any case, rather more narrow in scope." The showmare was sticking to non-alcoholic cider. Considering the awful paint thinner she had brought to Berry's house a few days prior, Landshark took that as a good sign.

"I'll grant you that one. I'm perfectly fine the way I am. Besides, maybe my limbs won't crawl after me, but I'd still recover, in time."

Fleet Feather had listened with polite interest, nursing a large glass of some kind of stout, Landshark assumed. The pegasus blew out some cigarette smoke and chuckled. "Try not to be so cavalier about that, otherwise somepony might consider boxing up your parts individually, in case of a disagreement."

"I used to worry about that," the construct conceded. "But I think most ponies that used to be worried about me lost interest, or went back to picking on easier targets. There's only the one of me, and the official line is deliberately vague about what I am and where I'm from. The Patriotic Equestrians don't have much to hang any kind of rhetoric on."

Trixie sipped her cider slowly. "It's hard to claim you're stealing jobs or having some kind of imagined negative effect on pony culture or crime statistics when there's only the one of you, Trixie imagines."

"Pretty much. I'm certain there are still ponies who worry for one reason or another, but it's been quiet on that front. But speaking of ponies worrying, how was school today?"

Trixie's appearance at the Ponyville elementary school had been set up in a rush. Primarily, of course, because there weren't a great many days of school left, and the showmare absolutely had to be in Canterlot with a few days to spare before Hearth's Warming and the traditional stage plays. As an added bonus, the great hurry precluded any sort of parental opposition organizing. 

"Trixie certainly owes Miss Cheerilee a favor of some sort. She kept the students in line quite well. Those blasted unicorn colts, Snips and Snails, even apologized to Trixie!" The unicorn snorted and took another drink. "Quite unnecessary, really. On her last appearance, Trixie hasn't been particularly kind to them. Still, the two of them seem to consider the issue settled, which is just as well."

The showmare went on to describe some of the simpler tricks she had shown the students. If Landshark read between the lines correctly, Trixie had made a bit of a show of the fact that she was sharing trade secrets as a peace offering, which, according to her, stage magicians normally didn't do. Most of the students seemed to have been suitably impressed.

"Since not all young unicorns are equally advanced in their magic, simple sleigh of hoof tricks, suitable for anypony, always go over exceptionally well with the younger crowd. Trixie hopes that she'll at least leave behind enthusiastic stories told by students to their families." She frowned. "Although one of them was picked up after school by an exceptionally rude pegasus stallion. Dark grey, storm cloud cutie mark? He wasn't happy to see Trixie, but she does not clearly remember him from previous visits."

"Thunderlane, probably." Fleet shifted his weight and his dyed wings twitched. "One of the local meatheads. Nopony cares what he thinks. He saw I was clipped and he knew right away what it meant, but nothing ever came of it, which probably means he's not a big deal." 

He took a long gulp from his beer, then grinned. "Now that Rainbow Dash filly, she'll let you know what a big deal she is. Didn't know why a pegasus would have clipped wings, but she was more worried about my dye job. Thought I was a fan or something. Seemed disappointed that I've been looking like a parrot since before she was born."

Landshark had to admit that, on the whole, she was impressed with Ponyville. The town had its share of dumb young troublemakers and xenophobes, but it seemed to be a small share. She had expected more trouble for her employees, none of which had fit the traditional model citizen image. She had expected more trouble for herself, frankly.

"Well, your feathers are coming back in, aren't they?" Landshark ran her fingers through her wig. She had been told a large part of pegasus flight was magic, but the wings, although too small to work without magic, were still a necessity.

"Yeah. I'm just waiting for some better weather. I expect I'll be a little rusty. Soon as they got winter wrapped up, I'm visiting my mum up in Cloudsdale." The pegasus fumbled for another cigarette and prompted Soft Rime to light it for him. "My sire pretty much disowned me, but the old bastard died years ago, but my mum visited me regularly. She was real happy to see me once I got out. Remind me to send her a letter for Hearth's Warming, boss. Gotta arrive in time."

Fleet Feather had seemed easygoing and phlegmatic almost to a fault to Landshark, the pegasus had seemingly decided to take life one day at a time and rarely seemed fazed by all the little blunders and absurdities that crept in, day to day. Or maybe he was simply worn out. It was nice to hear some real emotion from him. "Sure thing. Fleet. Just hand it to Ditzy personally."

While it was true that Ditzy spent most of her working time delivering the mail locally, she had offered on occasion to take any letters from her friends to the post office and speed their processing along. The inner workings of the postal service were a mystery to Landshark, but this seemed to be true for just about anyone that didn't work in that field.

Focusing on Trixie again, Landshark tilted her head. "Well, I'm glad to hear things went alright for you. I did feel a little bit responsible for keeping you in Ponyville long enough for Dash to find you."

"This feels familiar. Trixie is sure she already told you to think nothing of it. She only has herself to blame." The showmare stuck up her nose. She somehow managed to sound grandiose even while claiming to be at fault. 

"Excellent. In that case, I'm going to have to ask you for a favor." The construct pulled a roll of parchments from one of her coat's deep pockets. "I've got instructions for a spell here. Allegedly suited to the layman. Laypony. Lyra didn't have notable difficulties with it, but she did have some years of higher education."

It was a pity that Lyra had already left by the time Soft Rime had admitted to his difficulties with the material. Chances were, Lyra might have been able to bridge the gap in understanding. Arranging to ask Trixie for assistance was nowhere near the most practical response, but the showmare might get some satisfaction out of the situation. "It seems as if my apprentice here doesn't quite measure up to the Element of Magic's idea of the average unicorn's understanding of magical theory, after all."

Landshark had made sure to sound uncomfortable, calling out Rimey's lack of education like that. She supposed Lyra hadn't been all wrong, claiming he was barely done being a colt. He'd been a little sullen since he failed to grasp the spell.

Trixie grabbed the parchments with her magic and began skimming the material with a self-assured grin. "Never fear! The Great and Powerful Trixie is well-known for making magic accessible for all audiences! Mr. Rime, if you would be so kind as to point out which part of these instructions you struggled with?"

Soft Rime scooted closer to Trixie. He didn't seem entirely sure what to make of the showmare. Perhaps he had expected surprise or mockery. "Well, this first part seemed easy, but then there's this aside here I don't know what to make of, and now I'm not even sure I actually understood the stuff around it anymore."

Rereading the indicated passage more closely, Trixie frowned briefly. "But you were pretty sure you understood these other parts?"

"Pretty sure, yeah."

Snapping back to a demeanor which, Landshark assumed, was similar to her stage persona, Trixie smirked. "Well, don't fret. The faith:inertia rationic mean?" Her voice seemed to drip with scornful derision. "Trixie credits Twilight her eagerness to educate, but this is like explaining how to calculate an object's terminal velocity when all you were asked was to show somepony how to shove a flowerpot off a windowsill." She cleared her throat and perhaps tried to be kinder about it. "That is to say, perhaps this is an accidental leftover from a previous, more detailed draft?"  Landshark credited her the attempt to give Twilight the benefit of the doubt.

With a smile that seemed genuine, the mare added, "Trixie is sure, if you thought you understood the rest of this section, you did. Just disregard this particular paragraph."

It seemed that Soft Rime was a particularly poorly educated unicorn, regarding even the basic theoretical underpinnings of magic. If Trixie judged him for it, it wasn't obvious. At her prompting, Rimey struggled to put into words how he used his own magic. In response, Trixie attempted to describe the spell from the parchment along similar lines.  At one point she got up to borrow a pencil from the bartender to start crossing out sections and leaving her own brief annotations in the margins.

Landshark and Fleet were mostly making minor small talk, pleasantly passing the evening. The construct didn't know her apprentices as well as she knew her other friends, so it was nice to hear the two of them had settled into Ponyville without major difficulties.

"Trixie admits this is a well-crafted spell." The showmare chewed on the pencil before catching herself and stopping. "And clearly, Twilight made an attempt to render it easy to learn. Perhaps she isn't aware that not all public education is created equal. Understandable, of course. I believe she did grow up in Canterlot?"

"Well," Rimey admitted, "I can't say I paid all that much attention in school anyway. Too busy being a troublemaker, I guess." Landshark understood it hadn't been easy to admit weakness for the stallion. "Thanks for helping me out, Miss Trixie. You didn't have to do that."

Trixie threw her head back, nose to the air. She seemed to smooth out her mane with her own magic. "The Humble and Generous Trixie stands ever ready to share the joys of magic with her audience." She winked. "Though usually on the stage, of course."

"You're alright in my book, lady." Fleet smiled warmly. He hadn't known the other stallion before their employment in Ponyville, but occasionally Landshark thought he exhibited a flash of almost paternal concern for the young unicorn. Soft Rime, for his part, generally seemed to respect the pegasus, perhaps because Fleet had been doing time for longer than Rimey had been alive. "Rimey's been mopin' since it turned out he couldn't figure it out, glad that's over with."

"Aww Fleet, knock it off. I'm young enough that ponies still expect me to be good for something, oldtimer." The unicorn smiled, there hadn't been any real sting to his joke.

"You've done me a service, Trixie." Landshark used her best solemn voice. "This doesn't entitle you to future consideration, but as the one responsible for the lads here," not strictly true, she wasn't a parole officer, after all, "I'll certainly attempt to return the favor if you have a need I can meet, within reason."

Fleet, pushing fifty as he was, snorted in amusement. This hadn't dissuaded the construct from referring to him and Rimey as 'the lads', thus far.

Maybe Landshark wasn't as close to her apprentices as she could have been, but looking out for subordinates was a deeply ingrained habit for her. Her sisters had been betrayed by their creator, after all. She had to be better than that. "In any case, I won't forget it."

There were cultures which believed that if one owes a debt that couldn't be repaid, the debtor should show allegiance to the debt-holder in lieu of true payment. Arguably, being given life and sapience was a debt that couldn't be repaid. Arguably, the renegades were the traitors. 

That thought filled Landshark with sneering disdain. She had been endowed with free will, reason and intellect. She wasn't about to forego their use for something as insubstantial as a debt of honor. Obviously, the First had handed down the precepts of the Cult of Self with the sole intention of disrupting the followers of his rival. He hadn't even shared it with his other creations, who had only known servitude and sacrifice in his name. Landshark would repay debts it suited her to honor, and only those.

"Well, Trixie appreciates that at least some ponies ... some beings will remember her in a positive light, once she leaves this town behind for good." After a moment, she added, "Trixie is trying to feel less entitled in general, anyway." She might have been smiling. "However ... "

At least, Landshark supposed, her experience had taught her that just because something wasn't true, it was no reason to stop believing in it. Some people seemed to find the idea disturbing, that their cherished concepts, such as justice, mercy, or duty, weren't real at all. To Landshark, it was the reason why she eventually agreed to fit into the human hierarchy, or this pony society. She knew there wasn't some ephemeral sort of rightness in the universe. The gods couldn't be trusted as moral authorities. Mortal beings had to cooperate to call forth these virtues by their own actions. She might chafe under authority, but preferred not to disrupt a society that, while far from utopian, seemed to work without actively oppressing anyone. 

Of course she still considered personal freedom to be of extraordinary importance. She had simply used her freedom to chose cooperation. She had taken on duties and responsibilities by an act of will, not because it had been expected. She judged the outcomes of cooperation to be preferable to the alternatives.

The construct shook her head. "Sorry, got lost in thought there for a moment. You were saying?"

"Hmpf. Your mind is certainly life-like. Trixie forgives your lack of attention. She was simply curious what the spell was for. It seems ... aimless? For lack of a better term." The showmare rolled up the parchments and levitated them towards the construct, who returned them to her coat.

"Well, I can't just take any old item and cast a spell on it, now can I? I don't have a horn." Landshark crossed her arms. "I'm trained as a blacksmith. That means applying heat and force to metal until its potential emerges. Quite literally, in fact. I'm sure your world has some rather esoteric materials of great power, but on the budget of a small business, getting unicorns to imbue steel with magic is about as good as it gets."

Trixie seemed to accept the explanation at face value and nodded. "An ability of your kind, specifically?"

"Oh no," Landshark sounded amused. "That's something any crafter can learn where I'm from, given time and proper materials. Be it the smiths, the jewelcrafters, even the fletchers and potters. They don't need to be able to cast spells to learn to shape potential with their tools."

"Of course," she added, "we must depend on there actually being magic potential. Whether because we are working with naturally powerful materials, or because an enchanter imbued more mundane components."

She shrugged. "Not every village blacksmith will have the connections necessary to advance his craft to that level. Not everyone knows an enchanter, not every enchanter is willing to submit to the tedium of enchanting great amounts of material. Enchanters are scholars and sometimes adventurers, many resent the menial drudgery of supplying a crafter.  After all, they call themselves Enchanters because they're good at manipulating people and disguising their own nature with personal illusions, not because they're good at putting magic into metal, primarily."

Unicorns were really rather privileged, that way. Humanoids seemed to require a very great deal of education to access magic. "I imagine, in the worlds connected to the Underfoot, Trixie would have made a fine enchanter. They might not have raw power, but they're subtle, and popular to have around."

"You flatter Trixie. If Enchanters are but one type of magic user, what other schools exist?" Trixie clearly was interested in the conversation, but her understated interest was a pleasant contrast to Twilight's academic eagerness. Fleet and Rimey also seemed game to simply listen. Perhaps they appreciated the relative normalcy of an evening at the pub.

It was extremely tempting to go into very great detail, but that would likely overwhelm her audience. Mortals had so many ways to use magic. She was, for once, going to try being concise. "I'm just sharing what is commonly known in my world, I have no insider knowledge. Wizards use magic for two things: Teleportation for themselves and others, and combat. They summon fire and ice, or unleash their magic directly to sear foes with raw energy."

"Enchanters, in addition to what I mentioned, have spells to refresh the mind, hasten movements, or exhaust their enemies, rendering them sluggish. Popular with all audiences who expect to run into trouble."

"Magicians may attack with fire, or fling conjured blades. They bind elemental creatures to their service, and shape magic into impermanent, but useful items. Food, water, bandages, weapons, armors. More, likely. My knowledge is incomplete." She shrugged. As it turned out, it wasn't hard to fall back into the clipped tones she might use to pass instructions or information along the chain of command.

"Necromancers. They animate skeletons, or summon spirits. They conjure poison and diseases. Although they, too, are scholars, they all venerate one of the evil gods. That's about it for studied magic. There are others, who draw their spells from nature or the gods, not scholarship." She made sure to sound amused. "No, I don't know by what means they forge the connections that grant them their magic."

All three listeners nodded. Trixie spoke up again. "Necromancy is rare to the point that some ponies think it's a myth entirely. But it is real, and it is very much forbidden. Trixie expects that for constructs, it's not much of a worry."

"I dunno, Miss Trixie." Rimey looked thoughtful. "The boss said she got a soul like anypony else, and if necromancers summon spirits, well, you know."

"Hmm." Fleet's expression brightened into a grin. "The way I'm told, the trick would be to kill her in the first place."

"I won't deny that I've worried about this, once." The construct shook her head. "Well, maybe not about necromancers specifically, but you know, it's not really clear what happens to us when we are destroyed. I've decided not to think about it too much. I've been told most people handle it like that?"

The Underfoot had been the afterlife for a lot of mortals. More importantly, turning against her creator deity probably was reasonable grounds to worry about her fate after death. Ideally, the dire oath she had sworn in service of the humans would keep her free of the First's influence, or destroy her spirit outright. It seemed a little silly to expect to be able to slip into a local version of the afterlife, especially since the local mortals didn't even agree on its existence among themselves. She'd rather not think about it and take some comfort in the fact that she was worlds away from the influence of her creator. She decided not to sour the mood by voicing that sort of contemplation.

"S'only natural, I guess," Fleet agreed evenly before taking another drink

"Indeed. Although Trixie prefers not to dwell on such morbid thoughts." She grinned. "After all, she  is in the business of distracting ponies from dark thoughts and daily troubles. Trixie should learn to keep a positive outlook herself." The showmare glanced at the other unicorn before addressing Landshark again. "Would you satisfy Trixie's curiosity? What are you planning to craft with this technique?"

"Just horseshoes," the construct admitted. "I was at a loss when it comes to gifts. Nothing fancy as such, but they'll still be unique because I made them. I was planning sets for my closest friends, which is why it was important that Rimey here be able to follow the instructions. Lyra helped me with the set for Bon Bon, but she's quite busy, it seems. Preparing to visit Canterlot, helping Bon Bon with the seasonal workload, that sort of thing."

Horseshoes would ordinarily be a rather boring gift, Landshark admitted to herself, but they were something a pony carried on their person for long periods of time, which was an appealing thought.

Trixie seemed to like the idea more than Landshark expected. She smiled warmly. "Lyra and Bon Bon are a couple, yes?" Her confident demeanor seemed to waver. "True, Trixie cannot speak with authority on the topic, but she hopes ... hmm. If this spell was unknown to her, Trixie hopes you reminded Lyra to also keep in mind her love, rather than simply concentrating on correctly performing the magic?"





"Alright Lyra, time for magic. Rimey, you just keep your mouth shut and keep reading Twilight's notes." Her tone was stern. If Lyra was not going to be busy preparing for her trip to Canterlot soon,  Landshark would have chosen to teach her employee some other time. As it stood, she would need the extra unicorn.

The piece of bar stock was glowing hot. It was about time to start hammering it into the rough shape of the horseshoe. Since they weren't in the position to apply magic to steel during the smelting process, or to the ore beforehand, the current pliable state of the material promised the greatest ease of enchantment for the unicorn involved.

She knew nothing of the way ponies applied magic to equipment, but it felt reasonable to assume that a unicorn with the right talent could add minor effects to finished items.

Landshark had never learned how to draw magic from the world around her, or tap any internal sources, to make her will manifest. As she had told Lyra, learning any magic would take years of careful study. 

Lyra seemed to start shaping her spell. The glow of her horn was Landshark's only indicator. She couldn't see magic at a distance. The only reason she had known that this world was more magical than the last was a sense of greater well-being. It hadn't initially been easy to communicate this sort of thing to mortals. Eventually they had settled on comparing it to the thin air of a mountaintop. Humans didn't do well on the highest peaks if they were not used to it, or properly equipped. The comparison was imperfect, but arriving in Equestria had reminded Landshark how thin the air had been in the human world compared to her original home. She had gotten used to it, but she felt healthier here, for lack of a better term.

"This better work, Shark." Forcing magical potential into the heated steel seemed a nontrivial effort. Again, Landshark had little context for the subtleties of unicorn magic use.

"Hmm. Seems to work fine. You can let up a little. Pace yourself." New ground had been broken, after a fashion, but once she had the magical energies under her hammer, they seemed to respond to her efforts in the familiar ways.

"It's working. Now, I want you to worry less about doing it right. Just think about Bon. Remind yourself of all the things you enjoy about her company. Unicorn magic is a pretty emotional thing, I'm told. Let it color your efforts."

The great forges of the Convorteum were without compare in mortal realms, and the Underfoot provided only the best raw materials. But Landshark had never been tasked to be creative. She had crafted weapons and armor, as well as great plated sections for use by the golem crafters, but they were always identical. Steel might be unimpressive, and horseshoes were not glamorous, but working with the magic of a unicorn in love seemed somehow more personal and sincere.

"They'll just be horseshoes, Lyra. But they will not wear down, bend, or break in any of our lifespans. Nothing is forever, but neither do the mountains wear away over night. Once final fitting is complete, these shoes will belong to Bon Bon for the rest of her life. To any other pony, they will be nothing more than ill-fitting scrap. They'll be bound to her alone, and to sunder that bond would take far mightier magic than its creation. No matter what the future holds, she'll always have that reminder of the joys you shared." It would also be a complete waste of effort to expend magic to liberate a pair of soulbound horseshoes from their owner.

Lyra nodded. Her previously strained expression suddenly spread into a smile. She didn't speak, but Landshark was sure she felt a subtle difference in the enchantments she shaped on her anvil. The actual forging process was trivial with the precision of a machine, and the construct was glad that she appeared to be able to shape the magic in the old familiar ways. 





Trixie had listened quietly, but judging by her expression, she seemed to approve. "Not a bad effort, Trixie thinks. In a way, the shoes will be a gift for Lyra also, every time she is reminded that her love is wearing them. It seems that you should involve all your close friends in the crafting process. As they receive the gifts, they will know its meaning by the effort they put into helping you complete another set."

The thought had occurred to Landshark also, at one point. "I agree. I just hope I'll get that idea across successfully. Since not all of them are unicorns, the actual magic is necessarily going to come from a source that's less emotionally invested than Lyra was for Bon's set."

"C'mon boss. You got a way with words, you'll probably manage to make it mean something."

"Thank you, Mr. Feather." The showmare granted the pegasus an approving smile before turning to the construct again. "Trixie would like to remind you again that there is more to magic than a glowing horn. It is belief, emotion, wonder. Don't fall into that trap now that you are shaping magical energies. The old stories are full of ponies whose love allowed them to achieve grand things, or stave of death where another would have fallen." 

Trixie was gesturing animatedly, apparently in her element. "Two in harmony will always surpass one in perfection. No matter the physical distance, the memory of a loved one can allow a pony to achieve things an isolated heart could never do." Trixie finished with a shrug. "You don't need to convince your friends of this, not really. You merely need to remind them. Everypony is exposed to such stories, at one point or another."

"It'll be Hearth's Warming Eve soon, boss," Rimey added quietly. "Everypony knows that story. It was friendship that kept the windigos from freezing the land, like they froze the old homeland, before there was peace among ponies."

"Perhaps," Trixie allowed, "the historical aspects may be disputed. This was a very long time ago. It's a story without alicorn princesses in it, after all. But windigos are certainly real, and they certainly seem to operate the way the story claims."

"Thanks for setting my mind at ease on that point." It was good to be reminded that this world worked differently from any she knew previously. Friendship really was magic, and that idea seemed to be part of the cultural background any pony absorbed while growing up in Equestria. All she needed to do was to involve her non-unicorn friends in the crafting process in a small way and find the right words to remind them that sentiment alone could be such a powerful thing in their world.

"I'm reasonably confident that I do, as Fleet said, have a way with words. You are the professional here, however."

She thought back to conversations with her friends. Motivating Berry to struggle against her addiction. Discussing Bon Bon's difficulties. "I'm too used to motivating people for conflict, be it against an enemy, for an inner struggle, or simply for facing an unkind world." 

Bon Bon had occasionally spoken dismissively of the way the Elements of Harmony solved their problems, but despite her occasionally resentful mood, Bon Bon's original motivations, as far as the construct knew, were basically selfless. Landshark thought she might find something fitting to say while working with the earth pony on horseshoes for Lyra. "I'm not so arrogant as to dismiss the advice of someone more experienced than I when it comes to speaking of something more harmonious. I'm still inexperienced with the subtleties of your culture, after all."

Trixie smiled, somewhat ruefully, and looked at the two stallions. "Well, Trixie must admit that perhaps this is a case of 'do as I say, not as I do'. She has not been a particularly good pony in recent years, as you know. Still, Trixie would, at some point, love to hear how the gifts were received. Sadly, it is time for Trixie to turn in for the night. She plans to catch an early train tomorrow."

The showmare got up from the table and donned her hat with a flourish. "Allow the Great and Generous Trixie to pick up the tab, such as it is. Farewell!"

Landshark didn't see any reason to object. She didn't buy anything for herself, and she hadn't come to a decision yet whether to pay for her apprentices. They earned a living wage, after all. Still, they expressed their thanks for the offer as well.

"Don't be a stranger, Trixie."





"Alright agents. Ready for another one?" 

True to her initial impression, imbuing the metal with magic proved exhausting. Doubly so for Ruby Pinch and Dinky. The two of them had declined help from Rimey and even Lyra, so the shoes for their respective mothers weren't being forged all in the same day. Fortunately, the two young unicorns seemed to have found a way to work in concert, cooperating on each individual horseshoe to give Landshark enough magic to work with.

"Well, I did just recently hear that two in harmony surpass one in perfection. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you make a good team."

"Of course," Dinky agreed, tiredly. "But I still can't wait to be done."

"Yeah. It's hard." Pinchy looked exhausted as well. Both of the young unicorns had been straining to call forth every shred of magic they had available.

"Don't worry. You're doing great. Your mothers will both be very proud, agents. Dealing with problems from within and without, you're the reason they stay strong. Obviously, everyone involved already knows this on some level, but everyone appreciates a reminder that they are loved. And this one will last for a very long time indeed. And while wearing these, they'll never be far from a source of pride, either. You two are something good they have added to the world."





It had taken some effort to convince Bon Bon to show up. The magic for Lyra's set of shoes had to be supplied by Soft Rime, and Bon Bon hadn't seen why she was needed to contribute. Landshark had insisted that it was important that someone close to the recipient be involved in the creation of the gift.

"Well, you're an earth pony. Maybe you don't work in the fields or a mine, but there's no getting away from it."

She'd involved Bon Bon with a few hammer strikes here and there, and made her hold the tongs, at times. The mare had no skill at the forge, which limited the extend of her involvement, but it was critical that she be part of the process, to add, in some small way, her own touch to it. 

"I sometimes wonder about Pinkie's relatives. Working a rock farm. They must understand some of the power of stone. Even Applejack lives it, in her way."

Finishing up one of the shoes, Landshark called for a brief pause. "Let's have a breather, Rimey. I'll have to finish this one on the final fitting anyway."

"Aight, boss. I'll be out the back." The unicorn excused himself. He'd picked up the proper spell fairly well through the adjusted instructions, but Landshark hadn't made any notable progress attempting to explain to any of her apprentices how she actually shaped that magic. Greywack showed some minor promise, perhaps because his understanding of magic hadn't been shaped by the instinctual use of pony abilities, be they horn use or weather manipulation.

The construct pointed her hammer at Bon Bon, glad that Rimey was giving them some privacy. "You and your kind are all hewn from the same rock, in the end. You're one, even if there's a whole lot of you. That's true even for those who only know the earth as a provider. But those with the power of stone in their heart fight harder than any foe could anticipate, and you remain standing long after lesser heroes fall."

Language like that was, of course, normally used to describe dwarven champions, but it seemed fitting, somehow. "I know you're hurt, but I don't think you can be broken for good. The earth is implacable. Single rocks might be ground to sand, but they're still part of the whole, many instead of one. Aren't your old comrades still part of you, in a way?"

She snapped her jaws. Bon Bon probably wasn't the ideal audience for that sort of flowery speech, but as a creature of the Underfoot, Landshark knew the power of earth and stone better than most. True, when the differences between pony types had been initially explained to her, earth pony abilities had primarily been framed in terms of agriculture, and she had initially thought Pinkie had been joking about her family's rock farm. Still, it ultimately strengthened the construct's assumption that there could be more to their connection to the earth than merely the surface.

"Setting aside the preaching, there is a downside to being so enduring. Losing friends, as we both have, means that we have to fulfill the promise of our friend's life also, in our own, to the world. So live as fully as you can. And perhaps Lyra will feel just a tiny shred of the earth's endurance with this gift. Certainly, she'll always feel your love."

Bon Bon glowered until Landshark took the tongs from her. The earth pony licked her lips, free to speak again. "You're really getting a kick out of working magic gear again, aren't you?" She tilted her head and eyed the construct for several long moments before allowing herself a sigh. "You're exaggerating, but maybe there's some truth to it. I told you before, I'm not all the way ground down yet." 

Landshark assumed that was likely all the overtly positive reaction she was going to get. Bon Bon wasn't an exuberant pony.

"Mostly because I'm doing this for my friends. I haven't looked back on my craft fondly, but the personal touch does make it enjoyable." She smiled. "I hope this won't come up, but these should allow a pony to kick things that aren't normally vulnerable to physical harm."

Landshark gestured at her shoulders. "Magic weapons are kind of obvious that way, but the physically imposing people, such as trolls or ogres, were fond of using their great bulk against their foes. Well, if you want to tackle a ghost or other highly magical being, you better be wearing magic shoulder pads too."

"Hm, I guess that makes sense." Bon Bon offered a small smile and shook her head. "Well, for anyone who can't burn timber wolves, that sounds like it would be really convenient as well. Good to know Lyra'll be armed like that."

"I had rather been hoping that those things will stick to the forest, considering I'm so close to it." She shrugged, then raised her voice. "You ready for another round, Rimey?"

"Gimme a minute to finish my smoke, boss!"





Berry Punch, in her few weeks working for Landshark, had at least picked up the rawest basics of metalwork. She assisted in forging horseshoes for her daughter with some confidence, and hadn't needed any convincing to lend her help to the task.

"The earth is rich," Landshark mused. "It shelters and provides for everyone when treated right. It endures in stillness." She snapped her jaws, continuing to speak with amusement. "But it hides its rage deep below the surface. When roused, the earth bucks and heaves, leaving no place to run or hide."

Berry Punch wasn't a poetically inclined pony, Landshark thought, and under normal circumstances no more receptive to such things than Bon Bon, but she was a mother, and the construct was reasonably sure her words would resonate in some small way with the earth pony, who seemed to have found a personal sweet spot of being placidly confident as long as others did right by her daughter and her friends.

She shook her head. "Quite the contrast. The patience of stone, and the molten fury of magma.  I think a lot of people take the earth beneath their feet for granted."

"Well, I did grow up in the city, you know." Berry snorted. "It wasn't exactly on the forefront of my mind." Her expression softened. "You know, I don't know anything about any magic. Earth pony magic? It sounds silly when you try to explain it to youngsters. But I wonder how pegasi and unicorns feel the world around them. Why wouldn't it be the same? It's hard to believe in earth pony magic when you can't know how somepony else experiences the world, and you're not getting any use out of it yourself."

"Hmm." The construct lowered her hammer. "Wondering about the way Pinchy sees the world around her, as a unicorn?"

"Sometimes, yeah. I barely know if I got earth pony magic myself, so wondering how unicorns feel seems a little silly. Can't help it, though."

"Huh." Landshark had no way to answer that question, of course. She suspected that a great many ponies went through life mostly aware of the obvious differences between pony types. Flying. Telekinesis via horn. Not every earth pony worked close to the earth, not every pegasus worked on the weather and not every unicorn got really creative with their magic. It didn't help that earth pony magic seemed rather subtle, in some respects. 

"I'm pretty sure a unicorn would have to work out a lot more to get where you are, physically. I doubt they would easily achieve the level of raw physicality you see in somebody like Big Mac."

She shrugged. "What do I know about pony magic anyway? I work with metal, and with ideas. Because Pinchy will know you helped me out here, and there really is magic involved, she'll believe that, just maybe, she can feel a tiny bit of your strength."

The construct emitted a low chuckle. "They say the first dwarves had bones cut from bedrock and souls wrought from iron. In any case their fleshy descendants are amazingly stubborn in defense of their lands and their people. And wouldn't you stand like you were rooted to the bones of the earth if you had to get between Pinchy and some serious threat?"

"Course I would. I'd like to say that any parent would, but I've seen too many deadbeats, growing up, heh. I won't let her down ever again." She lowered her head towards the resting hammer, smiling all the way. "Let's finish this up, then."





It was an experiment, of course, but Landshark had been curious about weather magic and the strange ease with which pegasi manipulated clouds. 

Rimey hadn't been a fan of the idea, once Landshark had explained that she asked Ditzy to provide a small cloud capable of producing lightning. This was likely because he could not share the construct's complete unconcern regarding the possibility of being struck by lightning.

Ditzy herself hadn't seemed particularly confident either, remembering previous incidents of property damage. The inconvenient solution had been to carry an anvil outside, maintaining some distance to the building. Waiting for a day without scheduled snowfall had been a minor inconvenience also.

"I wouldn't recommend this trick to anyone made of meat." She had waited for Rimey to cast his spell, then carried the glowing piece of bar stock outside and signaled for Ditzy to try and strike it with lightning. The construct's ceramic outer shell provided sufficient insulation to avoid damage, although she would briefly bear some scorch marks. Apparently aiming lightning was an inexact science. Fortunately Ditzy had provided a very small cloud.

"I'm s-sorry Shark! I knew this was a bad ... a bad idea."

The mailmare seemed upset, but Landshark just waved her off and set to work. "It'll need a lot more lightning to cause me serious harm. Still, I shouldn't need to do this again. You can get rid of the cloud now."

The way a pegasus could simply make a cloud disperse by kicking it was another magical oddity that Landshark didn't even try to understand. It was just how the world worked.

"Yeah, I'm really feeling the difference, I think." Mostly it was harder to work with, but she didn't say that out loud. 

"There are few better expressions of the power of nature than the fury of the storm. Churning clouds, crashing thunder, blasts of lightning. You know, I existed for decades before I first saw the sky, and real weather. The Underfoot is all subterranean. I think I might prefer the everlasting sky. Less solid, but ... there is freedom there, and none of the baggage I brought from home. And it's remarkable that the pegasi can make an ally of it, for all ponies."

Landshark had been forced to think a little more carefully about her words. Nothing smart had immediately sprung to mind. While she occasionally reminded herself that some of her sisters had existed for centuries without seeing an open sky or experiencing weather, most of the time, weather was just something that happened to people, only noteworthy when it was so bad as to be hazardous. Probably the human influence on her thinking, she assumed.

"Maybe Dinky will feel your touch on this. She is a unicorn, after all. She'll be reminded to look at the vastness of the sky with wonder. Maybe she'll even appreciate the life-giving power of the rain when the weather sucks, but let's not set expectations too high. More importantly, it's some small part of your own magic for her to carry with her."

A mother's love put its own spin on the magic, she assumed, but she wasn't in a hurry to repeat the experiment with a less emotionally invested pegasus so she could compare. 

Ditzy set down next to the construct. "You got everypony to help with somepony's horseshoes, huh?    They'll all love it."

"You're right, I hope." Landshark nodded earnestly. "As far as magic artifacts go, these are mundane. They won't wear down, they won't be able to be worn by anyone but the owners, and they should grow along with the fillies. Those are the most basic attributes of any magic piece of armor as crafted in my world." 

She started carrying the work in progress back inside to continue working there, Ditzy following behind. "The real power is in the sentiment, the gesture. Everyone will know that they received a gift created with love and devotion. I've never been quite so emotionally invested in my craft. After a few hundred identical weapons or components, the novelty will wear off, even if you do it for a cause you believe in."

"You don't need to explain that," Ditzy assured her. "I understand. Next time I'll bring by some muffins. Rimey must have ... must have put in so much work. Magic work?"

"Score!" Soft Rime grinned widely and stomped a hoof. "Thanks Miss Do!"

Landshark had no way to experience that for herself, but by all accounts, Ditzy's muffins were excellent. Certainly, her unicorn apprentice seemed genuinely excited by the prospect. "Glad you're so good at appreciating the little things. Don't forget to share with Fleet, right?"

Rimey rolled his eyes, but his good mood didn't seem to diminish. "You don't need to talk to me like I'm six, boss. Course I'll share with the old fart."