Gathering Dust

by PapaLeto

Chapter 2: The Mountain Mare

Chapter 2: The Mountain Mare

I suppose when one travels with a caravan as unusual as the “travelling saleponies nonpareil” there should be no surprise when you attract a lot of attention. Often, from characters as odd as the ones with whom you travel. We traveled generally south from Canterlot, but without the train to take us, the only way to leave the mountaintop city was to brave the mountainous pass with the rest of the denizens that couldn’t travel by train. Along the way, we met dozens of ponies from all walks of life. We met farmers with wagon loads too big to transport on the rails, emigrating families with all their worldly possessions in tow, and a fair amount of ponies that were either too poor to afford a ticket or were in fact banned from the train system.

One such pony was our guest at dinner that night as we stopped somewhere deep in the mountains. She wore a dark cloak that covered her head and body completely; the only thing that was visible was a silver tail that protruded from the back of the cloak. She hadn’t asked to stay for dinner; I had offered. It got dark quickly in the mountains, and she appeared all alone and without a meal, which broke this poor stallion’s heart.

That, and a pony in that mysterious of a cloak has to be hiding something beneath. Like, I don’t know, potential inspiration! So I sat her down, somewhat to the twins’ chagrin, and we all partook of some swoozie smoothies together.

“So where are we heading, anyway?” I asked the pair of lanky brothers.

“Why my young stallion, we are going to the land that has been called the bane of all hard earned bits!” Flim exclaimed.

Flam intercepted and continued, “The land where the cider flows and the cuisine simply delights the senses!”

“The land of opportunity for all, where everypony has a chance to trot away with more than they came in with!”

“But a land of hardship for many, where a misplaced show of faith can cost a pony everything!”

“A land where-”

I interrupted, “We’re going to Las Pegasus, aren't we?”

The brothers looked a bit irked that I had interrupted their shpeal. They looked like they were about to break out into song, but now they just stood there with deadpan looks on their faces. “Yes. We’re going to Las Pegasus,” Flim said levelly.

For the first time, our dinnertime companion broke her almost complete silence. “Las Pegasus?” she asked incredulously with a voice that was perhaps a bit harsh but also came across (to me at least) as just a tic seductive. “Is that where you think you are going?”

Flim and Flam gaped at her. “Why yes, that’s why we are on the path that was labelled ‘Las Pegasus’,” Flam said, raising a brow.

She said, “No, that path broke from the main road miles behind us. Las Pegasus is far west of here. We are still on the road south.”

Flim elbowed Flam a bit, saying under his breath, “I told you we had made a wrong turn! You were too busy flirting with that mare with the flowers to pay attention.”

Flam elbowed him right back, hissing, “You were gawking too, brother mine. In fact, I think you were driving at the time!”

While the pair of them continued their squabbling, I turned to the mare. “So where does this road lead then?” I asked.

“Well, if you keep on the road long enough, it’ll lead you to Baltimare and then Appleoosa. But I plan on turning off before that, as soon as this path leaves the mountains,” she responded.

“Turning off? Where are you heading, mystery mare?” I asked with a grin.

She sighed, pawing at the ground a bit. “I’m…going to Ponyville,” she said slowly.

“Well, you sure as sugar don’t seem too happy about it,” I said with a questioning look. “Did something happen?”

“That is precisely none of your business, thank you very much,” she said with a huff, turning away.

I laughed anyway. “Whoa there, ice queen. Just making some friendly conversation. No need to snap,” I said, raising a hoof disarmingly.

“There is a need to snap when you butt into my business!” she growled at me. “And did you just call me ‘ice queen’?”

I grinned evilly. “I call it like I see it, I’m afraid.” I know, I know. I’m being needlessly cruel here. I should have apologized and not perpetuated the problem. Thing is, I occasionally get my jollies my riling ponies up just a bit. All in good fun, mind you. It’s no fun if they really stay upset. But something like this? Fair game.

“Well you’re about to be seeing stars,” she barked. I chuckled, totally asking for it. That did it. She whipped off her cloak and started to cast a spell before I could even get a good look at her.

Oh, and as for why I didn’t get a good look at her, well… SHE LIT OFF A MAGIC FIRECRACKER IN MY FACE. One second everything was fine, the next, my entire field of vision was bright white and, true to her word, stars. Also my ears were ringing for a good few seconds afterward. I promptly fell over backwards in a vain attempt to avoid the offending explosion.

As I feared, once my hearing faded back, the first thing I heard was this mare’s triumphant guffaw. While my eyes were still absolutely useless, I was aware enough to catch her cheering, “Now you see what folly it is to laugh in the face of the Great and Powerful Trixie!” She then resumed her laughing.

A moment and dozens of frantic blinks later, my eyes were functioning again. I got a good look at my assailant and I was baffled.

How could somepony so ruthless be so pretty? That gorgeous blue fur, that confident grin, and her silvery flowing mane...

Flim and Flam’s arguing had been effectively halted by the explosion as well. They both stared at the Great and Powerful Trixie in baffled incredulity.

Rubbing my eyes, I caught sight of her cutie mark and asked, “So what, you’re a magician or something?”

She puffed out her chest and announced, “I am no mere showpony; I am the most powerful mage in all of Equestria! And the most humble!”

“I think each of those claims is false,” Flam muttered. Trixie turned and shot a bolt of magic at his face, at which he yelped. When it made contact, the bolt flashed, and when it had dissipated, the horrible truth was revealed: she had transferred his mustache to Flim’s face. The pair didn’t notice for a few seconds what had happened, but when they turned to each other to make a questioning face at one another, they caught sight of the switch. Both of them promptly screamed like fillies and collapsed to the ground.

“Give Flam his mustache back!” I demanded of the blue unicorn.

“Not until he admits his mistake!” she demanded in turn. At that moment, I had an idea. My own horn glowed as I pointed it at Trixie’s face and gave her a black mustache of her own.

Let me explain. As you all know, I am a writer. Now being a writer means I have to write things (it gets pretty technical), but really, who wants to carry quills and ink around with them wherever they go? Nopony. So I had an idea during my first years of university. It took weeks of work and careful manipulation of the latent magical energy that fills Equestria, but I finally crafted a spell that I dubbed Writer’s Best Friend. Basically, I manipulate any given material just enough that its color changes in very localized areas. In other words, magical ink that is made of the same material as the thing you’re writing or drawing on. Of course, creating the spell was one thing, but wielding it deftly enough to create letters took months of practice. By the time I left university, however, I had it down to the point that I could create entire words at once with one magical move. If it wasn’t already clear, I am far too proud of this ability.

Anyway, I turned Trixie’s upper lip’s color in such a way that she had a twirly black stache drawn right on. Of course, she couldn’t actually see it, seeing as it was on her own face. But when Flim and Flam resurfaced, they took one look at her and immediately fell over again, this time from chortling.

Immediately her gaze returned to me. “What did you do? I know you did something, what did you do?” she demanded shrilly.

I shrugged innocently. “I have no idea what you mean,” I insisted, grinning evilly. She huffed and conjured up a small mirror, looking at her face in the waning sun’s light. She shrieked at the sight of her new facial feature, exploding the mirror and rounding on me, horn glowing.

“I’d fix my face if I were you,” she warned, her voice low and threatening.

Come on, it was too easy. “I don’t think anypony can put right what nature wrought there, dearie,” I said with the sweetest of smiles. Her horn flashed, and I felt what seemed like a fairly large static discharge hit my flank, earning a yelp from me but otherwise leaving me largely unharmed. “Fine, fine, but only if you give Flam his mustache back.”

The trading of facial hair hostages was stressful. I’m sure you’ve all read that scene in the book or seen it in a play, where each side sends over their prisoner, not sure if they are being double-crossed, but taking a very stressful gamble. That was this situation for us. The stakes were high. Flim wanted to be clean shaven again; Flam wanted his stache back. Trixie wanted to be rid of her new pigment. I wanted to avoid another flank zapping.

The operation was a success. Point goes to Dusty. At first things looked a bit shaky when I blinked during the mustache transfer and forgot which brother was which, so I wasn’t sure for a second if she had actually switched them. I then saw by their cutie marks that she had in fact been true to her word. All was well, and only Flam remained facially haired.

“So what are we going to do?” I asked Flim and Flam. “I mean, do we want to track back in the morning and get back to the road to Las Pegasus, or do we keep pressing on this path and end up more south than west?”

The pair of them scratched their heads simultaneously. After a moment, they gave each other a look that I couldn’t decipher to save my life, and shrugged. “Well,” Flam said a bit hesitantly, “I suppose it makes just as much sense to head in the direction of Appleoosa anyway. For while there isn’t as large a pool of bits from which to skim-”

“We can drink deeply of the Appleoosan pool nonetheless!” Flam finished.

Trixie looked at the pair of them suspiciously, eyebrow raised. “What does that mean?”

“It simply means that when country hayseeds have lived sans such wondrous technology as our lovely Groovy Smoothie Ultra Swoozie 60,000-” began Flam.

“They simply flock to see what wonders it can work for them, bits in hoof!” finished Flim.

Deciding I’d rather not point out that their machine was hardly anything special and they didn’t have to act here, I moved on to the conclusion, saying, “So we stay on this road, then?”

“Yes,” they replied, wearing matching devious grins.

It was only at this time that we realized how dark it had gotten since we stopped. In the mountains the sun is quick to disappear over the horizon and slow to rise in the morning with the mountains blocking it, so even though it wasn’t terribly late, the sky had darkened considerably. In response to this, I lit up the tip of my horn and detached the little ball of light so that it would hang about ten feet in the air and give a dim light to the nearby area.

Trixie hadn’t seemed to notice the darkness until I did something about it, but when she saw the light, she gave a small yawn and said, “Now, if you three will excuse me, I wish to be up early tomorrow to get moving quickly, so I will be heading to bed. And, um..” she struggled for a moment. “Thank you. For the smoothie, I mean. It was...nice of you.” Before I had a chance to say anything, she had stepped beyond the reach of my light and out of sight.

“I do declare, brother mine,” said Flam, “that mare was one troublesome piece of work!”

“Couldn’t agree more, Flam,” said Flim, nodding his head. “What say you, Mr. Quill?” he asked, turning to me.

“Stubborn, fiery-tempered, perhaps. But I would contend she was worth the trouble for her company’s sake, no?” I responded. “I mean, I certainly don’t regret allowing her to stay with us for dinner, do you?” The pair of them shrugged.

“Perhaps she was right about one thing, though,” said Flam. “An early start would be wise. I advise we retire for the evening this very moment.” Flim and I agreed, and we got out our supplies. Flim and Flam had (I suspect custom) sleeping bags that were patterned with their cutie marks, the apple wedge and the remainder of that same apple, in checkers all across the fabric. I had simply brought several blankets, all brown in color, to essentially wrap myself in. I rolled up one of them into a makeshift pillow and laid one on the ground, leaving me two with which to cover myself against the cold.

Oh, I guess I should mention in case it wasn’t inferred. You know how I said that the mountain path tends not to have as much time in the sun as the rest of the land? Well, as a direct result of that, less heat gets delivered to the area, so it’s always quite chilly once night sets in. Fortunately, my grandmother’s knitting cutie mark was not misplaced when it found its way to her flank, so I was comfortable and warm under the blankets’ protection. After a few minutes, I heard Flim and Flam (I kid you not) snoring in unison, so I too decided to call it a night after writing a short summary of what had happened that day in my personal journal.

In placing the jet black tome back in the bag, I nudged the vest I usually wear enough that my father’s letter fell out onto the ground.

“I forgot about this!” I exclaim-whispered. I lit up the tiniest light I could manage and opened the note up, immediately recognizing my father’s untidy scrawl.

Dearest Daringest Dubious Dusty, he opened, because he is a smart-flank sometimes.

I am sure your mother did not let you forget for even a second how proud we are of you. You have accomplished so much in your years, and I can tell that the best is certainly yet to come for you. You have brought such pride to the Quill name, even I cannot put it into words (and you know how much I adore language).

You will be living on your own, which means that (no matter how much your mother may dislike it) we cannot be there to watch you. While that means you are free, and I’m sure you’re both acutely aware of and feeling very ready for that freedom, I hope I don’t have to tell you that freedom isn’t always free. You will have to make choices and take responsibility for every choice you make. We may not be there to coddle and smother you, but it also means that we cannot be there to pick you up every time something goes awry. The world is scarier than you know, but I am sure you can handle it and prosper in it.

While your mother has been scared of this day for over two decades now, I feel no shame in telling you I could not be more excited for this day, as much as it breaks this old stallion’s heart to see you go. I am so excited to see what choices you make, where your road leads you, and what you learn and see and hear and do along the way. I know that you are ready for the story of your life to take off and soar, but just remember that you are always welcome back in the nest you leave behind you.

Write early, write often!

With love and respect beyond measure,

Professor Copper Quill

I laid the letter back in its envelope and placed it back in my bag carefully, not wanting to bend it. I rested easy that night, getting to sleep in only a couple moments. I dreamed of roads and scrolls and the color silver.

Author's Note:

Sometime next week the story will have a professional-quality cover, so fear not! In the meantime, I hope to maintain the amount of time I've had to write recently, because this has been a most productive week by my standards!
Best wishes,
Papa Leto

Comments

[Frogmyre]

This was another good chapter! Trixie is best Trixe. And once again, the Flim Flam Brothers (Traveling Sales Ponies Nonpareil) are awesome!