Chapter 3: The rhythm of a gift
Chapter 3
“How do you know if what you see is really what you see and what you hear is really what you hear, for there is no reality, just perspective.”
“You know, you’re really, really big,” said Dinky, a good few minutes of silence had passed since Noah and the filly had exited the hospital, “I think you might even be bigger than Big Mac.”
“Who’s Big-,” a loud ‘EEEYUP’ echoed over their heads, originating somewhere outside of town, “Okay, what was that, and who is Big Mac?”
“That was Big Mac, he says that a lot,” the filly stated all matter of fact like, “and he is big, like really big.”
“Okay, I get it, he’s big, but who is he?”
“He works in the apple farm on Sweet Apple Acres.”
“Oh so he’s a farmer, makes sense a farmer being big, although I can’t imagine that I’m bigger than a farmer,” Noah slowed for a moment, pondering how big this big pony could be, before taking off after the filly.
Idle conversation continued throughout their trek, Dinky being particularly emotive when recounting her favourite sugary foods, muffins taking the priority. Noah, on the other hand, avoided answering questions preferring redirection.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to answer the questions but a mental block, much like amnesia, was stopping him remembering a lot of his memories from before his arrival. He enjoyed listening to the exploits of the filly and descriptions of the town whilst becoming absorbed in the architecture of shops and houses.
Distracted by one outlandish gingerbread house in particular Noah suddenly came crashing into Dinky. Frozen to the spot at the intersection of two perpendicular streets, her eyes began darting back and forth as though looking for a place to hide. Concern quickly spread across Noah’s features, “What’s wrong?” he asked, full of worry.
Before an answer could be provided he spied a figure cloaked in grey meandering slowly down the side street towards them. It paused for a moment before flicking its head towards them with eyes of the sickliest yellow glowing bright beneath the darkened hood.
Leaning down to pose the question once more to the now visibly shaking filly, Noah received a hoof in the mouth as an answer. “Shhhh it’s, Zecora, maybe she won’t notice us if we quietly back away.”
“Wait,” said Noah, his voice now betraying his confusion, “you’re not scared of me but you’re scared of someone, er somepony, named Zecora.”
“Of course I’m scared,” whispered the frightened filly, “I heard she can put a curse on somepony from twenty metres, she even did it to six ponies a while back.”
“Uh huh, a curse,” he stated, resisting the urge to roll his eyes or sigh Noah went on, “So you saw the six get cursed?”
“Well no, but I saw what happened to them, it was horrible. And, AND, everyone says she’s evil, or they used to, but I still think she’s bad.
The pony in question stopped in her tracks, not ten metres from the pair. Lowering his voice to barely a whisper Noah went on, “But you didn’t actually see it happen. And don’t you think it’s a little mean to be so judgemental if you haven’t even met the pony?”
“Well I suppose, bu-.”
“No ‘buts’,” he said, raising his voice to make his point, “Weren’t you braver than everyone else to come out a see if I was alright?”
“What’s an everyone?”
“Every-, oh everypony, but my question still stands, what’s the difference between me and that Zecora, shouldn’t you try to be brave and ask her if she did in fact curse those ponies?”
“I suppose, alright, let’s go say high,” Dinky sighed, her face no longer framed with abject fear, but apprehension still lurked.
Dinky stood for a moment longer, weighing her options before slowly making her way over to Zecora with Noah in tow. Standing in front of the pony in cloak she opened her mouth to speak, only to be beaten to the proverbial punch.
“Tell me please, brave one so small. Are ponies still afraid, when into town I call?” Zecora asked, her voice, distinctly feminine yet exotic and deeper in tone.
“Huh did not expect the rhyming,” said Noah surprise evident in his words. Turning to face Dinky he posed a question, lowering his voice in the process, “Is this why you thought she could curse you, because she talks in rhyme?”
A defeated nod was all he got for an answer, “Well,” Noah paused, thinking, before whispering, “Why don’t you be brave and ask her?”
Another nod was given, this one backed up by a face of determination. Turning to face Zecora, Dinky held her head high, asking with a wavering voice, “Are y-… Are you a witch, are you going to curse us?”
Noah’s hoof quickly found his face and strained laughter echoed from under the hood, a moment later Zecora’s exotic voice heralded her answer. “Even if I could, I would not curse you. My abilities revolve, around the healing brew.”
Noah pondered on the cryptic words for a moment, his hoof held to his chin in contemplation. A moment later he exclaimed, “A healing brew, are you a herbalist by any chance?”
Another bout of mirth, this one softer with relief evident in its echoes, as Zecora raised a hoof to the tip of her hood. With this action Dinky grew afraid again, shaking slightly on the spot. Noah turned, concerned upon seeing the change in the filly once more and moved closer, lifting a hoof to her shoulders in a show of comfort.
Slowly Zecora pulled back the hood of her cloak revealing a short Mohawk of a mane with black and white stripes, hoops of gold hung from her ears and rings of the same metal were worn around her neck. Upon seeing this reveal, Noah exclaimed excitedly, “You’re a zebra, aren’t you.”
Zecora bowed her head in acknowledgement and Dinky visibly relaxed sitting down on her haunches, a whoosh of air escaping her lungs. Raising her head once more Zecora spoke again, “You still didn’t answer me, little one. Was it me, that made these ponies run?”
Noah interjected, lifting a hoof in admission, “Actually, I think it was my appearance that spooked them, they seem to be avoiding me like the plague.”
Nodding in remembrance of similar mistreatment, Zecora gave a small grim smile in knowing. “Please take my cloak, if you feel it’s needed. It may stop other ponies, making you feel feared.”
“You’d give your own cloak to a stranger to help them, with no payment asked for in return?” Noah asked, thoroughly stunned at the kind gesture. A nod accompanying a shallow bow of her head was given as answer.
Zecora quickly and carefully removed her cloak, and with skill attained only through years of experience threw the garment over Noah’s shoulders. The fabric slid over his frame, not fitting quite right with his added height and build over the sleeker zebra. This had the effect of making the cloak hug his body tightly, instead of drop off the back, and end only a few centimetres after his knee.
The hood of the cloak thrown back Noah smiled brightly at the bearer of the welcomed gift. Already ponies were starting to come out of their hiding places, those that noticed his uncovered head simply shied away from the trio instead of running in fear.
Turning once more to Zecora, Noah exclaimed, “Then I cannot thank you enough, I will find some way to repay your kind deed.”
“If it is to repay me, that which you seek. Then come along and visit me, later this week.”
“Alright,” beamed Noah, ecstatic he had made yet another friend in such a short time, “Oh, but I don’t know the way to your house, can Dinky here come along too?”
At mention of her name in the conversation the filly quickly perked up, only to realise that an extended invitation would herald a trip into the outskirts of the Everfree Forest. Growing fearful at this Dinky quickly spoke up, “I don’t think I can, I don’t think my mommy would let me, also it’s a very scary place.”
About to chide the filly again about bravery Noah was quickly interrupted, “The path to my house for children is much too dangerous and dark. If it pleases you then I shall meet you in the park.”
Agreements all round and the ponies of Ponyville slowly exiting their dwellings the trio parted ways in the middle of the street. Zecora continued in her original direction towards the centre of town where stall vendors were cautiously hocking their wares.
Dinky and Noah started off in the opposite direction of the zebra, the presence of the tall, yet thankfully cloaked, Noah creating a field around them where ponies dared not tread. Although disheartened by the wary actions of the surrounding ponies Noah agreed to himself that this was better than a frightened panic.
A short while later the two found themselves at the door of the Ponyville Day Spa, looking the place up and down, Noah’s eyes stopped at the roof, “That’s a very purple roof.”
“Yeah, kinda reminds me of a circus tent,” Dinky replied.
“And you’re sure there is no other place in town with a mirror large enough for me to see what I am?” He asked hopefully.
“No… Nope the only other place is closed while the owner attends the wedding.”
“Alright then, let’s get this over with,” Noah said, his voice heavy with shame, “Never thought I would actually attend a spa, not in a million years.”
He placed a hoof on the door, making no actual effort to open it. “Oh come on, it’s not that hard,” Dinky chided. With a deep sigh he pushed the door open, adding unnecessary emphasis on the action, a small bell trilled at the entry.
“Yeah you’re right, well, one small step,” Noah replied, he lifted his forehoof across the threshold and placed it down with upmost care. Taking another deep breath he made his way over to the front counter as slowly as possible.
“What does that even mean and where does it come from?” asked Dinky.
“Not entirely sure on both accounts. My mind is still a quite muddled but I believe it’s a saying about exploration and the unknown,” He answered as they both reached the counter.
“Well in any case, it’s weird, you’re weird,” she commented, turning her head to look at the receptionist. Dinky quickly realised that Noah was yet to ask to use the mirror, “Hurry up, it’s starting to get late and I need to be home before my mommy starts to worry.”
Noah turned and looked down at the filly, adjusting the hood on his cloak so that his features where still well covered and sighing in mock surrender, “I suppose you’re right.” Turning back to face the receptionist he collected his thoughts on how to spin the story of his presence.
“Good day to you sir and miss, and Welcome to the Ponyville Day Spa. My name is Lotus, how might I be of service?” The mare who greeted them beamed up at Noah with a smile that could only have been developed through years of experience.
Her bright, powder pink mane was pulled back over her ears, a strip of cloth that could only be described as a sport’s headband keeping her mane pinned back. An azure coat cover her small and slender frame was next noticed Noah’s eyes wandered over the features of the mare.
A low whistle left Noah’s lips, “Do all you people put a lot of effort into your looks, or are you all naturally attractive.” The words had slipped from his mouth before his brain had comprehended the full ramifications.
Dinky’s lower jaw dropped slightly, her head tilted to the side as she tried to make sense of what he had said. The newly introduced Lotus was in a similar state, her mouth agape in reaction to the unexpected compliment.
Realising what he had said Noah’s forehoof made another quick ascension to his forehead, the force enough to leave a mark as a resounding ‘Thwack’ echoed through the room. He tried stammering out an apology, but his brain was attempting to overdrive its damage control, leaving him sputtering at the front desk, his eyes darting nervously everywhere.
Thankfully it was Lotus herself that came to the rescue. A small giggle left her lips, “Ooh such a charmer this one, you will get on well with the town I think.” Her voice carried an accent, not as thick as Zecora but noticeable, extending her i’s and e’s.
Letting out a deep sigh of relief that a potential crisis had been averted he began to explain what he needed, “Well you see, I’m a little unsure as to what I am, I can’t seem to remember much before waking up in the town square and I don’t seem to recall what I look like.”
“Now I heard from a lovely mare at the hospital that the Day Spa was the only place in town that was open and had a full floor to ceiling mirror. And I am wondering, if it’s not too much hassle, would I be able to use it,” he finished.
“I’m very sorry sir,” Lotus began, her voice growing monotonous as if reciting a training manual, “But company policy does not allow the use of company equipment without the purchase of a spa treatment. And before you ask, no, I cannot make any exceptions.”
Noah’s ears drooped slightly, his head hanging lower. Before he could say thank the mare for her time she piped up suggesting, “Our cheapest treatment is a back massage, only fifteen bits.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Noah said dejectedly, “I don’t think I have any money to pay you with. Thank you for your time though.”
Noah turned to leave, a hoof came down on his shoulder from his right, turning to look at the hoof’s owner he saw a mare that was the same as Lotus yet different. This new mare had the same colourings as the receptionist but swapped around, a powder pink coat covered her earth pony frame while a familiar headband tied back a bright blue mane.
“I’m very sorry about Lotus,” said the new mare, “sometimes she gets a bit too business-y and forgets about the customer. How about this, we give you and your little filly here a back massage, you get to use our mirror and we can arrange for payment at a later date.”
Noah now beamed at this proposal, the use of the mirror and a back massage he wouldn’t have to pay for right away. “Oh thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyou,” Noah practically shouted, “I can’t repay your generosity right away but I will find a way to. However if it’s all the same I would it be possible to omit my massage, my looks seem to send ponies running.”
The new mare’s head tilted slightly in puzzlement, “You can’t look that bad,” she stated firmly, “Besides it’s a part of the deal.”
“I really don’t think I should though,” Noah defended.
“Nonsense, look, just take off your hood, then we can decide.”
“I really don’t think that is would be a good idea.”
“We’ll be the judge of that,” the new mare said, Lotus walked around the desk standing next to the pony, a ‘Mm Hmm” given in support.
Seeing there was no other way out Noah spent several moments looking between the mares before caving, “Alright, but please don’t scream.”
The two mares looked at each other, a small amount of worry creeping into each of their faces. They gave each other a small nod before turning back to Noah, eyes on his hood and the head hidden underneath.
Sighing softly in surrender Noah lifted his hoof to the edge of the hood, bowing his head slightly he paused for a second before slowly lifting the fabric over his head. Small gasps escaped the mares’ lips, angling his eyes up towards them Noah noticed the worry on their faces replaced by a mixture of fear and apprehension.
Both mares took a deep breath as if ready to scream. Both noticed the others action and, in an attempt to stop the other from screaming, quickly placed a forceful hoof over the mouth of the other.
Looks of confusion darted across the faces of all four ponies present before all present broke down into nervous, although sincere, laughter. Realising the situation had moved from suspenseful to jovial the unnamed mare moved to talk.
“Well I must say that your look is not what was expected, but I digress, if you’ll follow me, your filly too, and we will get started on the massage.”
“My name is Dinky,” said the filly in question, huffing a little in the process, “And I’m not his filly, I’m just showing him around.”
If the mare was put off at all she didn’t show it. “My apologies Miss Dinky,” she said in a very professional manner, “If you will follow me we shall begin.” She turned slightly to face Noah once more, “I know you’ve met Lotus already, my name is Aloe, and it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, mister…”
“Oh it’s a pleasure to meet you fair Aloe, my name is –.”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH,”
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What's with all the screaming in the end? Well this is my first hint that he's way different from any other changeling.
Is the screaming going to become a running gag? (Not that I have a problem with it)
Ouch that hurt
Still a tad awkward for me, but still reading.
It... means one small step. This line only makes sense if Dinky recognizes it as a quote OR it makes no sense without context.
That's a unique name. How do you spell it?
Where does it come from?
Cotton-eye Joe