//------------------------------// // Chapter 35 // Story: Princess Twilight Sparkle's School for Fantastic Foals // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// When Pebble entered the classroom, there was something different about her. She looked happy. Sumac couldn’t say how or why she looked happy, but she did. Perhaps it was how she walked, how she moved, or maybe it was something about her face. But no mistake, something about her radiated happiness. As Pebble crossed the room to come and sit with him, Sumac thought of happy times. Making s’mores last night was a happy time. The future prince and his friends were likeable sorts; well, except for Hotspur. Sumac did not like Hotspur, not at all. But, Hotspur was a soldier, and Sumac did his best to respect soldiers—the issue left him feeling conflicted. He felt Silver Lining brush up against him as Pebble sat down. Silver seemed to be doing just a little better as of late, or perhaps it was Sumac’s imagination. She also seemed to be close friends with Cinnamon, and helped the colt out whenever the need arose. “You look happy,” Sumac said to Pebble as she got settled, and as he spoke, Strawberry Hearts nodded her head in agreement. So, it was true, Pebble was happy and others could see it as well. “I am happy,” Pebble replied, her voice filled with uncharacteristic emotion. “What’s going on?” Sumac asked in a low voice. Turning her head, Pebble looked at Sumac, then angled her head up to look at Boomer. “My grandmother, Pinny, came home. She’s been with my mother and my father this whole time, and not bowling, as I had thought.” Pebble’s eyes narrowed for a moment. “There seems to be something she isn’t telling me, but I didn’t press the issue. She told me that my mother and father would be coming to Ponyville soon, along with Octavia and Vinyl.” “Oh.” Sumac’s head bobbed up and down, and above him, Boomer mimicked his movements as she clung to his horn. “Pinny wants to meet you, Sumac. I think she plans to tease us.” Pebble’s cheeks darkened somewhat and her ears sagged. “She can’t believe that I made a friend, and a colt no less. She said I made a big leap, the biggest leap a filly can make, and that is having her first colt as a friend. Pinny is a very silly pony if she thinks I am hung up on gender barriers.” “What’s a gender barrier?” Strawberry Hearts asked. Tinder, hearing the discussion, leaned over and offered his opinion. “The gender barrier is the mutual disgust that all little fillies and colts feel for one another. It keeps us from touching our peepees together too soon and making more fillies and colts, ‘cause that is what happens when you touch peepees.” Flint, the smarter of the brothers, facehoofed and let out a groan of pain as he listened to his brother’s words. Seeing that everypony was staring at him, Tinder, in a very confused voice, asked, “What?” “Stunning.” Pebble blinked her eyes. “Simply stunning. I think I just felt several brain cells die.” “I think I did too,” Strawberry Hearts added. After another groan, Flint shook his head. “I can’t believe he managed to say ‘peepees’ twice and not bust out giggling.” “What’d I do wrong?” Tinder demanded. The confused little unicorn colt looked around the room at his peers. Rolling her eyes, Tempest Dancer sighed one word, “Boys,” she huffed. “Colts are kinda gross though.” Pebble glanced over at Sumac and something in her eyes gleamed. “They’re smelly and silly and talk about”—the filly took a deep breath as if she was preparing herself for some monumental task—“peepees. And this is why little fillies play with little fillies and little colts play with little colts.” “Except you play with Sumac.” Tinder blinked a few times. “Well, sorta. I’ve never actually seen you playing. But you spend time with Sumac.” The still confused unicorn colt let out a shrug and a sigh. “Now that I think about it, Sumac is a lot like you. Neither one of you play much. You’re both so serious and act like grown ups.” Flint, rubbing his head as if it was aching, turned and addressed his twin brother. “Tinder, it’s obvious that they didn’t spend a lot of time around other foals. Adults don’t play tag or do silly stuff. They’re not like us because they grew up differently.” An intense look of concentration appeared on Tinder’s face and his brow furrowed. “We didn’t have a lot of other foals around. You scared them away with your eggheadedness and because of you I got teased a lot for having an egghead brother.” Looking guilty, Flint nodded. “Yeah, but we have each other. We played with each other. Pebble probably helped her mother and father do research and stuff.” “I did,” Pebble admitted. Squirming in his seat, Flint looked away from his brother. “Tinder, while I might tease you for being stupid, you’re not that stupid. You’re kinda an egghead too. There’s a reason why you’re in a school for the gifted.” “Even if you say peepee.” Strawberry Hearts began to giggle and she covered her muzzle with her hoof. As she giggled, Cinnamon and Silver Lining joined her. “The maturity levels in this room have plummeted. Sharply.” Pebble rolled her eyes and then let out a groan when Flint started laughing as well. Somehow, Pebble managed to look disappointed when Sumac started to chortle. “Okay, class, let’s get started,” Lemon Hearts said as she stood in the doorway. Archery. Sumac had so longed to return to archery. He sat on the grass in the sun, having a wonderful time as Mister Tweed explained some basics. It felt like it had been a small forever since he had last tried archery. He listened with rapt attention as Mister Tweed talked about balance, recovery, and patience. A good archer waited for their shot. “—and a better archer will use magic to aid their shot,” Mister Tweed said to his students. “While it is viewed as cheating in competition, it is seen as necessary in times of war and crisis. I am of course, talking about a targeting spell. A unicorn archer can reach out with their minds, touch their targets, and leave behind a patch of magic that an arrow that is also enchanted will seek out.” The patient old pony paced around, eyeing his students. “Of course, this targeting spell… it is useful for far more than archery. With some creative thinking, it can be used to make all sorts of things in life easier. Having good aim is useful for all sorts of things.” “I can think of a use,” Sumac said. “Can you, Mister Apple? Do tell.” Mister Tweed stood waiting. “When I put something back together after taking it apart, sometimes, the screws can be a little fiddly. Getting them lined up with their holes can be hard, especially when you can’t see what you are doing.” “Very good, Mister Apple.” Mister Tweed arched an eyebrow. Feeling euphoric from his teacher’s praise, Sumac’s mind began to wander a bit, thinking of other applications for a targeting spell. A seamstress might use one to make certain their needle always hit just the right spot so they could make perfect stitches. A painter might use the spell to make sure that they put a dollop of paint in just right spot. “—right then, time for practice. I want to see arrows in those haybales!” “Time flies like an arrow,” Sumac said to himself in a low voice, “fruit flies like a banana…” He hadn’t hit a single target this session, but he was getting pretty good at hitting the haybale. Learning how to arc his arrows was the most difficult part. Overall, he was excited about his performance and somewhat disappointed that school was now over. Hearing voices, he turned and saw the tallest mare he had ever seen, not counting Princess Celestia. She was tall. Tall. She was all legs and it was amazing just how much she looked like Mister Teapot. Beside her, a little filly struggled to keep up with her long legged strides. Boomer’s head popped up out of the grass and she watched the approaching ponies. “Sumac,” Pebble called out, “this is my grandmother, Pinny Lane.” “Hello Sumac, I’ve heard so much about you.” A wide, toothy grin appeared on Pinny Lane’s face. She slowed as she approached and ducked her head down, bowing her long neck. She was wearing a long, flowing dress that almost looked like one of Pebble’s. Being just five years old and quite small, Sumac was stupefied by Pinny’s mind boggling height. She was almost princess sized, skinny, a creature made of legs and long skinny bits. Sumac himself was a skinny, scrawny sort, and seeing Pinny, he wondered how he might be as an adult. He hoped that he would be tall. “Sumac, say something.” Pebble, now beside Sumac, gave him a poke. “Something,” Sumac replied, causing Pebble to roll her eyes. “Oh my, you’re just precious!” Pinny Lane’s voice was shrill with excitement. That did it. That snapped Sumac out of his stupification. He blinked, got himself together, and his ears angled forwards over his eyes. He knew he needed to say something, but what should he say? He decided to keep it simple. “Hi.” “Well then,” Pinny replied, “how do you do?” Her face was now stern looking, serious, and she stood looking down her nose at Sumac. After several seconds of maintaining the facade, she burst out laughing. It took him a moment to realise that Pinny was having a go at him and that she was a very silly pony. He decided that he liked her. She seemed kind and nice. She also seemed to be waiting for more words, perhaps even a conversation. “Pebble is my best friend,” Sumac said, keeping his eyes on Pinny. There was no way he could look at Pebble when he said that. If he saw her blushing, he might start stammering and stuttering, and he hated doing that. “So I’ve heard.” Pinny sat down down in the grass and began smoothing out her dress. When Boomer approached, Pinny watched the little hatching with a curious eye, but made no move to startle her. She glanced over at Sumac. “I am so relieved that my little Pebble has made a friend. She is so dependent upon the company of her parents, especially her Daddy—” “Pinny…” Pebble whined. “—and of course, Tarnish is all too happy to dote on her, he has spoiled her, he has.” “This is not the perfect meeting that I had daydreamed about,” Pebble deadpanned. “It’s not entirely Tarnish’s fault,” Pinny said, explaining, and ignoring Pebble’s mortified reaction. “Like some fathers do, he fell in love with Pebble the first time he met her. He became very protective and grumpy. He used to get up at all hours of the night so he could check on her and make sure she was breathing. And Pebble…” Pinny turned her gaze on her granddaughter. Pebble stared off at Mister Tweed, who was plucking arrows out of haybales. “Little Pebble exploited her father ruthlessly.” Pinny’s smile became a teasing one. “Not at all the perfect meeting I daydreamed about.” Pebble refused to turn around and kept watching Mister Tweed instead. “I see.” Sumac looked over at Pebble, then back to Pinny. “Pebble told me that she thinks you’re funny, but you strike me as being a serious little colt.” As Pinny spoke, Pebble let heave an embarrassed sigh. “I also heard an impressive story about how you stood up to a bully… Pebble says you are very brave.” “I guess I am.” Sumac made a feeble shrug, which made his shoulders ache. “Tell me, Sumac, what would you like to do this afternoon?” Pinny’s eyes gleamed with kindness as she looked down at Sumac. “Trixie asked me to look after you. She’s going to be busy for a few hours extra. Is there anything that you would like to do?” Sumac could only think of one thing he wanted to do, and he blurted it out right away. “I’d love to go and visit the cemetery!” Pinny looked both shocked and surprised. “Oh.” “Can we go?” Pebble asked. “You want… you want to go to the cemetery, Pebble?” Pinny’s eyebrow arched. “Sumac likes going there. It’s nice, it’s calm, and its quiet.” Pebble turned around and looked her grandmother in the eye. There was uncertainty on Pinny’s face, Sumac could see it. The living tended to avoid the dead, and Sumac wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was one of those things he would understand when he was older. He didn’t know what to say or how to justify his behaviour. He felt his mouth go dry. “I don’t understand it, but I can see that it is important to the two of you,” Pinny said in a kind voice. “I was hoping that I could take you two bowling, but we can go the cemetery. Perhaps a little quiet time and reflection would do all of us some good.”