Chapter 6: To All Things An End.
Spring had always been a time of renewal.
Through the sporadic rainstorms, and the budding of new life, Spring had always brought me hope that Equestria could one day become restored. It was that early spring morning that I made my plans to leave the lot. Casa and Gaucho were thankful for the gift, and promised to carry on what work they could in Charm’s absence. They asked me to stay, and understood when I explained why I couldn’t.
Before I left, there was business to attend to. There were caravans to cancel and guards to pay. I had been lucky enough to schedule them for a Monday pick up. They were disappointed to hear the church was closing, and offered to spread the word for me. I thanked them, and gave them each some apples to carry back to their homes. The guards were also disappointed to end their contracts. It had been an easy job for them to guard the shipments, and I suspected some were siphoning profits for themselves.
None of that mattered anymore. The lot was Casa and Gaucho’s now. I could no longer give of its tree or fields of wheat, as they were no longer mine to give. Casa’s foal was due any time now, and I agreed to stay long enough to deliver. I was no midwife, but I was skilled enough to bring another life into the wastes. I walked to my room to start packing my things.
My bedroom seemed bleaker now that it had ever been in the past. I looked upon my possession to realize that aside from what I was wearing, I owned a single Book of Celestia, and a wool cloak. I threw on the cloak, and put the book in my saddlebags. There was nothing else to pack; I could leave at any time. I wandered away from my room and to the roof of the showroom where I could watch the wastes. I came up here on occasions to try to glimpse the heavens. Clouds rolled in today, obscuring the view of the sky and filling the wastes with a dull, foreboding light. Something appeared on the horizon. Something... no, some pony, cornflower blue, and galloping at full speed toward the lot. It was Charm.
I dashed down the stairs and to the front door to meet the unicorn. She shot past me and into the walled compound. She began screaming, begging me to take up defenses, to help her. I asked her what she was talking about.
“Him!” she cried. “He found me there! I don’t know how, I don’t know where he came from, but Ender found me at Ten Pony Tower. I managed to get past him and his thugs. Please take me back, Gardener. Please help me.”
“You are my daughter,” I said to Charm. “I will never forsake you, no matter how much trouble you find yourself in. Here, you are safe.”
“They are coming,” she said. Her violet eyes locked with my own. “They know. One of them saw me perform the cleansing. I know they followed.” She tore at her mane, and wept frightened tears. “Oh goddess, I’ve brought the end with me. My greed will be the end of us all. I'm so sorry Gardener. I should go; I should keep running. I can't ask you to protect me. Not here. not with Casa.”
“We are safe here,” I said again. “We are a family, and families protect each other.”
I made ready the compound’s defenses. Gaucho’s turrets whirred to life and swept the no-man's land for any sign of invaders. I took to the roof and looked out upon the horizon to see only a single purple unicorn trotting toward the compound. I made my way outside.
“You are not welcome here,” I told Ender as he approached. “Leave or be returned to the soils of Equestria.”
“Where is your hospitality now, Gardener?” asked the purple unicorn. “Does your message of giving only apply to those you deem worthy? What would Celestia say to that?”
“This is no longer my home,” I replied. “Nothing here is mine to give.”
“Even after you broke my leg, I respected you for your conviction,” said Ender. “Your gift of mercy kept me from leveling your lot; I’m glad to see it's no longer yours. Leave now and you’ll live. Give me the girl, and you’ll be generously rewarded.” He chuckled underneath his barding. “When is the last time your goddess offered you reward for anything?”
“With Celestia as my witness,” I swore, “if you cross that line, you will die here. I will leave your corpse to rot in the wastes so it does not to taint the life that grows within. Step over that line, Ender, and it will be your last mistake.”
“I will cross this line, Gardener,” replied Ender. “And I will take that girl in every way possible as you watch.” Ender trotted away from the line and disappeared into the afternoon. It was a small relief to see him leave. I wanted to chase him down and kill him on the spot, but I knew that others were coming, and I had to make ready our defenses. Thunder rumbled over head; a war was coming to our doorstep.
Over the course of the afternoon, I had reloaded the turrets with the ammunition we had made from the marbles. Whatever army was headed our way was sure to be the best Ender could muster. I readied traps at the entrances, and fortified our windows. Gaucho donned his armor, and strapped into his battle saddle. He powered up his cart, and rolled ready to fight.
The stress of the imminent attack had forced Casa into labor. Charm took the mare into the basement of the showroom to assist with the birth. Gaucho and I had both wanted to be present when their foal was born, but if we failed at the task at hand, the foal wouldn’t be alive long enough to know the love of his parents. I took watch on the rooftop and awaited the onslaught. Gaucho waited in the trees, ready to rain mortars upon whatever came our way. I only hoped he survived to see his child grow up.
It was near evening by the time a cloud of dust began rolling over the horizon. It was far worse than I had expected. There was a herd of ponies headed for the lot, hooves thundering across the wastes. They had come as a plague of judgment, and I felt fear for the first time in many years. Fifty ponies galloped to war, ready to destroy the orchard and all that stood in their way. Two ponies stood ready to defend it against the onslaught of raiders and mercenaries. I pushed away the fear, and felt an amazing calm sweep over me. It was as if the voice of the goddess told me that it was all going to be all right. I was no longer worried about winning this battle.
I had heard the crying of a newborn foal from far below me. I thanked Celestia for her kindness, and made my way to the showroom. Charm came up to tell me that Gaucho had a son. I ordered her to stay with Casa and defend that foal to her dying breath. I was not opposed to the idea of mares fighting. Indeed, I had seen mares more ferocious than Diamond Dogs in my time defending their young, but this was no place for such heroics. This was a time for violence, and it was going to be a bloodbath.
The first missile struck where Charm had repaired the wall nearly a year ago. Great chunks of concrete flew over the lot, and shattered greenhouse windows. The walls otherwise held, and soon the turrets were chattering death upon the invaders. Another missile struck the walls, opening a hole large enough to fire from. Gaucho rolled to the hole and began picking off ponies with a rifle. Mortars rained from between greenhouses, and decimated the lands that once were fields of wheat. It was going to be a hassle picking bits of shrapnel out of the ground for fall’s harvest.
I made my way back to the roof. The compound was now in full siege now; we were surrounded by ponies who wanted us dead. They fired into the walls and lobbed grenades from behind the wagon wheel fence of safety. I cursed myself for not letting Gaucho install a free fire mode. For all my preparations, I had never expected a full scale assault to come to my Orchard.
My. Again with the me. Here I was defending the home of a friend and all I could think of was myself. I focused instead on the task, and began firing back at the ponies that besieged the compound. Bullets glanced from the parapets of the roof, throwing shards of concrete into my armor. One nicked my flank, cutting through the metal plates there. It appeared that Ender had gotten wiser, and spent the money to outfit his troops with better ammunition than our previous encounter. The turret nearest me spun and coughed a dozen more rounds, sending three ponies to the ground in a spray of blood. From what I could see, the army of fifty had been cut down by fifteen already. We were winning the fight, but there was still much more to go.
I saw Ender ordering his troops back from the walls as he stood atop a cart. The pony with the missile launcher took aim at the turret nearest me. The rocket streaked across the twilight sky. It may have been majestic sight to others, and if it hadn’t been our turret he was shooting at, I would have applauded him for a fantastic shot. I dove for the stairwell as the ammunition inside ignited, and blasted both the lot and the no-man’s land with hot shrapnel. I cursed the loss of the turret, but we were still in the fight. Every stretch of the outside wall had been covered by two turrets for just such an occasion. It wasn’t until I heard the second rocket strike that I began to worry.
Gaucho had heard the explosions, and rolled his way to the barricades we erected outside the front gate. With the two front turrets out, there was little place for them to attack but the main gate. I joined Gaucho behind the barricades and waited for the doors to breech. Three explosions popped outside our front door. They had found the land mines. A pit of spikes awaited the first ponies who breached the door. Past that, there was only Gaucho’s battle saddle and my steel hardened resolve.
The explosion at the gate took us both by surprise. When I saw the cart spiral into the air, I realized they had packed explosives into it to make a battering ram. They clearly hadn’t used enough, as it only bent the gate halfway open. Ponies poured into through the breach. The first few fell into the pit of spikes. Their companions used them as a bridge to get past. There was no cover from that direction, and they were sitting ducks for Gaucho’s chattering cannons. I fired back with my own rifle, staying low along the barricade. A half a dozen more ponies had fallen by this time, and the enemy looked to be losing their nerve.
The battle would have continued well if the wall had not exploded in a shower of concrete and steel. They had lured us into a false sense of superiority, and we paid for that mistake in pain. Concrete peppered our armor, and the ponies poured through the new hole in the wall. Twenty five ponies remained standing; there were two of us. Gaucho flipped down helmet, and thanked me for being his friend.
Gaucho’s spun on his cart, and began strafing the crowd of on rushing ponies. They couldn’t keep up with his erratic movements, and found themselves being cut down by a hail of bullets. Shell casings littered the ground as Gaucho whooped and hollered, his battle saddles unloading hot death in defense of his home. Seven more ponies fell underneath his wall of lead. I managed to score two more kills from my position behind the barricades. I popped up again to see the missile launcher pony peeking from behind the breech.
The missile struck the ground between us. The explosion threw Gaucho through the glass portrait of Celestia. I knew his armor would protect him from the glass, but as I tumbled through the air, I wondered how well it would have protected him from the concussion of the missile. I landed in the open, the impact of the ground cracking my armor and several of my ribs. Bullets rained on my position, some tearing through my armor and burying themselves deep in my sides. I rolled away and hid in the spread of greenhouses. I was bleeding from more bullet wounds than I could count, yet I felt no pain. In all my years of battle, I had never felt such elation. I was enjoying myself so much, I had to laugh. Here I was, bleeding to death with another dozen or so ponies to fight and I couldn’t stop smiling.
I saw a pony with a flame thrower emerge from the back of the herd, and I heard Ender ordering him to torch the showroom. I got to my feet, and charged from the safety of the greenhouses toward the remaining ponies. Flamer or no, I would not allow them into the showroom while I still drew breath. The missile pony reloaded. Others gathered between the heavy weapons ponies to maximize their killing power. Shots peppered the concrete around me as I weaved from cover to cover. The bullet wounds were slowing me down, and felt that I wasn’t going to be able to make it to the flamer pony in time.
From above, I head the sharp crack of a rifle. All the ponies who had been standing near the flamer were engulfed in an earth shaking fireball. From atop the showroom, I saw Charm working a lever rifle. She had started picking off the biggest threats, and had gotten a perfect shot on the flamer’s tank. As the wailing pyre of ponies fell to the ground, Charm unloaded another shot at the missile launcher.
She hadn’t been aiming for the pony; she had been aiming for the warhead. Her rifle round punctured the head of the missile and blew to pieces any pony within ten yards. The remaining ten ponies concentrated their fire at the roof tops. I thanked Celestia again for that mare as I drew hammer upon the first of my last ten opponents.
The first pony was blindsided by the swinging hammer that took half his head away. Showered in gore, I stepped into the swing and brought the hammer through the ribs of the next pony. The world seemed to slow around me. My body warned that it was failing, but there was no stopping me now. Like the berserker ponies of ancient Equestria, I plowed through my enemies. Even as they turned their guns on me, I laughed. The third pony fell under a vicious buck that echoed with the familiar crunch of skull, and the fourth lost his hips to the triumphant crush of sledge.
Bullets clattered off my armor, through my armor, through me. I didn’t care. I was a hurricane of destruction, tearing through the ponies in my path. Five, six, and seven evaporated in showers of broken ponies as eight and nine were crushed together by my invincible hooves. Of the fifty ponies who had dared to take the lot, Ender stood alone.
He had been watching me mow through his army, a pony possessed by the righteous fury of Celestia. He had watched and waited, sword drawn. As I cut down the final ponies, he charged and buried his sword in my chest. An infinite world of pain came back to me in that moment. My righteous fury had failed me at the last second, and here I stood, unable to deliver the final blow. The hammer dropped from my teeth more in shock than pain.
I fell to the ground, and the world faded around me. I heard a voice calling my name in a whisper from miles away. I wanted to follow that voice home. I would follow it to the ends of the Equestria, as it was surely the gentle words of my goddess. I was ready to let go when I heard another whisper from much closer.
“I hope you’re alive long enough to hear her scream.”
The world came back to me. My teeth shot forward and grabbed Ender’s horn. In my last act of this world, I jerked my head to the side. The crunch of snapping vertebrae said it all. The look of shock in those malicious yellow eyes as I shattered that bastard’s neck made it all worth it.
I fell free of the unicorn and looked to the heavens as the rain fell into my eyes. My journey ended as it had began. That was the way of things in the wastes.
Rain.
Gardener had told me many times of the miracle of rain. About its ability to wash clean the sins of our failings, and bring the gifts of life from the heavens. He lie there in the rain, surrounded by the bodies of the raiders that sought to destroy our way of life and snuff the spark of generosity we had had tried to ignite. Outnumbered twenty to one, his defense of the lot signaled a clear victory of the way of generosity over the forces of chaos that ruled the wastes. He had given everything he had in our defense. I looked upon the pony’s body as the tears of anguish welled inside.
I had planned a life with him. I had hoped to one day walk through the restored lands of Equestria with him. I had hoped to bear his children and raise them with the miracle of generosity that he had taught me. But he hadn’t want those things; he only wanted to give me the love a father gives a child. In my jealously, I left his embrace for my own selfish aims. Now instead of starting a life anew, he lie on the concrete, defeated at last by the wastes which he had fought so hard to dispel. I closed his yellow eyes, and wept for Equestria’s loss.
Casa came to me, and put a hoof on my shoulder. She begged me to come out of the rain, and told me we would bury him later. I refused. When he could help it, Gardener had never let a pony lie. This lot, this orchard of life, was his legacy. As the rains extinguished the fires around me, I would see to it that he became part of it once more. I picked up his sledge, and pounded the cement with all the force I could muster.
Cracks formed in the concrete under the hammer’s blows. I could see why he wielded it in battle. It struck like a thunderbolt, and in his teeth it would crush all that stood in his way. The rain washed the sweat from my coat as I worked, and cleansed the blood from Gardener’s broken body. I floated away the concrete chunks I would need to repair the walls. Great scoops of soggy earth levitated from the circle and mud sloshed over the sides as I created a grave for the father I never had. I picked up his broken body in my hooves, and removed his helm. He looked serene, as if he were asleep in my arms. I had never gotten to thank him for his sacrifice.
Rain continued to fall on us; the storm showed no signs of abating. It was as if the clouds themselves knew of Gardener’s passing, and hoped that their prayers of tears would bring him back. I looked down at him for the last time, and whispered the rites of burial he had taught me. The mud fell upon him in a waterfall of earth, and Equestria welcomed home his mortal remains. I would return when the rains stopped, and plant our finest sapling on his grave. I knew his tree would grow strong; that it would give shelter and life to everything around it just as he had. I only hoped I had taken in enough of his lessons to continue his dream.
I walked back into the showroom, still dripping with the wet of rain. The radio played quietly, and the dulcet tones of singers long since past filled the home with peace. Gaucho lay unconscious in his cart. I had taken off his armor after he had come crashing through the window. His barding had protected him from the onslaught of the army and he would live to see another day. His wife sat beside him, coddling their newborn foal. She wept for her lost friend.
I picked Gardener’s cloak from the ground, and wrapped myself in the soft wool. It still smelled of him: of earth and sweat; of hope and generosity; of blood and life. I pulled the cloak in tight, and basked in his last warmth. Even death could not stop him from giving the slightest comforts to those who asked. I knew now that Celestia had called to me to save Equestria by giving of myself. I only wished that she would have left him as an example to us all. The loss of Gardener was a clear punishment. In my own selfish arrogance, I had brought about his demise. Tears streamed down my muzzle as I stood and stared back into the rain.
“Are you going to be okay?” asked Casa. I looked to the grave I had given Gardener, then back at Casa. I was no longer the Charm that had come here a lifetime ago, but the heir to a destiny of service that I hadn’t known existed until now.
“I can’t be Charm anymore,” I told her. The thunder rumbled behind me. “The waste needs some pony like him to preach the message of generosity and renewal. Some pony to bring the dead home, and to bury the past. Whatever I may have wanted in this life no longer matters now. I’m the reason he’s gone.” I looked down at my cloak, then back to Casa.
“I will still teach my spell of cleansing to any who can learn,” I told her. “But to the world, Charm is dead. As penance for robbing the world of his generosity, I will take up his mantle and hammer, and I will give of myself till my dying day.”
“Now, I am the Gardener.”
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Very well written, though there is one detail that kind of annoyed me... namely the simple fact that in the Fallout: Equestria setting, the clouds are a deliberate and maintained barrier made by the pegasi. It never changes. It never opens. Equestria hasn't seen more than the tiniest glimpses of the sun in two centuries.
finally found this fict again have to say it was gold
4379 Technically true, but the Enclave stayed away from Manehatten until their attack on Friendship City and their attempted siege of TenPony Tower.It is likely that cloud cover could be sporadic on rare occasions. Also, we heard no real mention of Littlepip until right near the end, so it's likely that the Enclave had only just started to renew the cloud cover when she finally surfaced from her stable. Charm and the Gardener have also lived their entire lives under the wasteland sky, and Littlepip hasn't really asked anypony for a detailed weather chart of the past ten years. That is how long I expect the gardener to have been aroundfor the trees and wheat to be so substantial.
33752
The Enclave stayed away from Manehattan ON THE GROUND. As the original story says, the cloud cover has been maintained pretty much perfectly for the past 2 centuries, over all of Equestria, ever since Cloudsdale fell. The fact it was immediately covered up after the Toxic Rainboom only stresses this point.
It's indeed likely that cloud cover could be sporadic on rare occasions, as shown by the fact Littlepip saw stars when first coming out of her stable, but this fic seems to imply they get plenty of sunshine. What bothers me is that in this story, the sun is always mentioned as if there is no pegasus cloud cover at all. Seriously, just check it.
Wow this was amazing.
Everything about it; strong characters; succinct but powerful plot; conflict of all sorts; a highly climactic ending.
Everything just came together to produce a powerfully moving story.
I'll tell my friends.
So the morale of the story is... "Work hard and then die without being happy"? I'm kidding, this was absolutely amazing. Probably the best Fallout:Equestria thing I've read since the original story, although I haven't read Project Horizons.
36119 the fact that they can tell if it is night or day implies that the cloud cover is relatively thin although it is there and if the clouds are thin enough the sun can permeate it and allow plants to grow.
331676 Eh what? I've never seen any amount of clouds that could obscure the ground to the point it looked like night, so that seems like a rather weak argument. Also, I never even implied it wouldn't be enough sunlight to let plants grow. That part doesn't even bother me; there is probably enough sunlight for plants.
But as I said before, just look through the story, and you see the Pegasus cloud cover is not only never mentioned, but the sunshine is described as if there is no pegasus cloud cover at all. I'm talking about sentences like "Perhaps the days of labor in the sun had simply been too much for her". That doesn't exactly imply any kind of permanent cloud cover, now does it?
Mind you, I really do like this story. It's just that single detail that annoys me.
This is a very well thought-out, written, and executed story. The main characters were interesting, and I feel that I understood Gardener's viewpoint and the reasons why he dedicated everything about him to a strict set of rules based upon giving to those in need, and working to make things better for the future.
I have been thinking, though, about whether or not Gardener's life and the story's ending is a message that warns of the dangers of focusing so much on the betterment of others that it'll ultimately be one's demise, or a message that reassures one that such dedication will only inspire others to do the same, thus helping heal the world, or even a combination of both.
On the one hand, Gardener made it his personal mission to be more than a mortal pony, and to instead be a perfect role model. He found pride in Charm becoming a successor to him, and in fact, better than him in his duties. But he denied himself even simple comforts, and I believe that this "business-only" attitude is the first thing that set the ending of this story in motion. Ironically, Charm's reaction to Gardener's extreme devotion to his work also contributed to the end. An effect became another cause to the ultimate effect, if that makes any sense. Charm's actions (despite being caused by Gardener's decisions) makes her partially responsible, too. It's quite a strange situation, neither of the two would have any blame to take if they both chose differently, but instead, both are to blame, neither are 100% in the wrong, yet Gardener blames himself, and Charm blames herself.
This says to me that having your heart set on just one thing, and allowing your goal to control your entire life, will pretty much lead to nothing but misery. It says to me that sometimes you have to accept a little defeat in order to attain that big win in the long run. In Gardener's case that little defeat would be to allow himself to experience for himself the same love he sees Casa and Guacho share with another pony. In Charm's case, her defeat would be to not try to force another pony's emotions, and instead let them come around in their own time.
In contrast, however, Gardener's devotion to his work and the virtue of generosity that he held on to inspired a great deal of other ponies to follow his examples. His influence is seen throughout the region, his notoriety makes him recognisable, and to some Raiders, something to be fearful of. His blood, sweat, and tears all matter, and it all begins to pay off after he decides that it is time for him to move on. Charm herself begins to become renowned for her following in Gardener's steps as well as for her own talents. Charm is very likely to inspire and influence the Wastes much like Gardener, and may even surpass him in that in the years to come, too.
So here we have the idea that devotion can be a very powerful source of inspiration, and to become such an important figure is a very prestigious and rare privilege, probably warranting the very religious dedication and disposal of all comforts in order to remain a 'pure' symbol of all that one stands for.
Perhaps the theme is a combination of both. A message that nobody can ever hope to be perfect without effectively ridding themselves of everything that makes them pony, or human, in the reader's case, and that being pony (or human) and indulging in a few comforts is not a total sin. A more paraphrased and possibly meaningless message could be: There is no black or white in a world of grey, only shades lighter and darker than others.
Gardener, and later Charm, started believing that they must strive to be the best, to be the 'white' in the world of grey, and that even a slight mis-step can tarnish that goal and have them stuck permanently as an extremely light shade of grey at best. The only way to truly change the world, however, is to make it all become a lighter shade of grey, not just single hoofedly drop a blob of pure white in the canvas and expect it to change everything. Even with the purest of hearts, that blob, that pony's influence, will end up mixing with the darker shades around it. The result will be grey, but it will be a damn sight lighter than before, and that is what counts.
I fear my rambling may seem incomprehensible. I do hope that is makes a little sense, and that my analysis seems to hold water. I really enjoyed this story, and for it to prompt such an in-depth essay from me speaks volumes about that.
When I first saw FoE story marked as complete with a total length of under an average chapter I got a little bit skeptical. Bur wow. Direct, rather powerful and not sugarcoated in purple prose I thoroughly enjoyed reading this. And even though some people described Gardener as an angsty preacher, I thought the character building of preacher was on point, providing sufficient background though other characters were left rather one dimensional. Definitely deserves more views.
I liked your story.
A beautiful story, really.
This was the first fallout equestria story I read, great way to discover this fandom within a fandom.
The idea of a single individual in a fallout wasteland, who respected the dead when no one else would, made me wonder - as I hope was the author's intention - if I could better myself to be like Gardener. This is not a grand adventure like other side stories, but the journey of Gardener, in his point of view, is one that everyone should read. Cheers, Vanner.
This was so fucking good, and I saw it coming, and goddammit, I cried so hard diamonds came out.
I just want to thank you for this thing. It's not so heroic, sure, but it is... right. I borrowed some motives from it and for all this I want to say thank you.
4344141 Really? You sure look it, buddy.
442289 is your comment a fanfic? Its really long.
No. I haven't actually read it yet. I was just scrolling to the bottom of the page when I saw a spur long comment, and felt I had to point out its lengthiness.
Now that I think about it, I don't think anyone ever said who it was that wielded the element of generosity for the Gardens of Equestria. Charm seems a likely candidate. Or maybe her apprentice, if the pattern continues.
This story is beautiful.
442289 Extremely well-written and explained. I could not have stated these points with any more hope of clarity nor precision. The Gardener's mistake is that he had no ability to accept that he was a simple pony, and that no matter how dedicated, perseverent, generous, or pious that he may have tried to be, he would have never reached perfection... he never accepted what makes us mortal, and in his absolution of belief he cancelled out what would have really made him happy and, I daresay, to further spread his influence and devotion to others with the aid of Charm.
They could have changed the Wasteland together, but instead they chose the route of hardship. And as a result, Charm will most likely never find love nor passion again, as she will aspire to become just like her "father that she never had".
But as for the author, I send my deepest kudos for such a well-executed story. Characters had depth and feeling to them, and it was amazing to watch them grow like they did.
Great story , very creative and out side of box
i not see a lot of story that talk about simple pony try to do simple thing and make it this good
though i really hope he would live but what happen is understandable.
also good character design as well , they have their strength and weakness
wonder why i not heard of this story faster
Just wanted to drop a line and say that I enjoyed this very much.
It got me at the end, just like all the other FoEs I've read... just once I'd like to see a protagonist have a decent ending? (I know, I know... FoE can't have happy endings lol)
But I did thoroughly enjoy the read.
Thanks!
Your book has been advertised on the new facebook group page: https://www.facebook.com/groups/foebooks/ :)
Celestia smiles upon you. Reading of this fic inspired me not only to draw or continue the story. For example, I've took dictionaries and wrote this comment.
The toils of this poor creature are interesting to observe. I could almost say I feel a sort of emotion you might consider analogous to "pitty" for him. I must know more!
(looks like I'm binge reading tonight!)
Really good story. I do fear, however, that Gardener's virtue was of the corrupted variety.
He gave of himself the way Rarity did in the last days before the end. They both gave so much there wasn't anything left to give more. Gardener is an idea all wasteland ponies should strive to achieve, but in a more tempered manner.
He should have taught of generosity, not offered it blindly. Yes, he did preach, but he knew that the words were lost on the people that listened. He should have instead taught how to do what he did - how to make bonemeal, how to find good spots for crops. He should have hired hooves to tend to the garden, giving jobs, caps and experience to those that desperately needed it. It is one thing to offer someone a fish, and entirely another to teach them to fish.
Don't get me wrong - I loved the character and the story. I'm just sad it had to tumble down into being a tragedy of a lone pony struggling against the nature of the wasteland itself.
7944851
Every character has a fatal flaw, and Gardener's was that he wasn't able to teach generosity. His mentality of "I have to give of myself," was, in a way, selfish. He was never the element of generosity and consequently, the only pony he ever taught to give was Charm. Let us hope she's a better teacher, and that the next Gardener could see the world grow again.
7953585
The ending was so amazing, you did a great job on it.
After getting a few recommendations to read this, I finally checked it out and absolutely loved it.
The ending was especially interesting. Not a happy ending, but not exactly the saddest outcome either. Overall this was a great read!
I would ask for a distinction when the perspective changes. Other than that, kudos. It is beautiful and you successfully made me cry.
Wow this was amazing
Bravo on making me cry like a baby. All my praise has already been said, but to make me like a story this bittersweet is a real feat
But I’m still going To imagine my own ending where charm managed to save him and they both grow and learn from their mistakes
Spoiler Warning
Celestia and Luna know, I wanna say so much to this story.
It really tears into my heart in a diffrent way. Attacking right where I could have seen myself, when Life had taken a diffrent route with me and I maybe got a bit more encouragement in Life
The Story is good, to one Fault, which is the main part I dont like
Gardeners Generosity leads him to a moraly right choice and action for him. But in the End, only serves to kill him further down the Line
I dont like that bad ending, neither the emotional Scar he left on his Love. I wished for him to give in at least once and give the mare the greatest and most valueable thing you can have in the wasteland
Love...
For his sake and hers
But such are the tragedies of the Wasteland.
I still thank you very much for the Story. It did spin my mind into motion and I do like such a tight and little story with so much to say and represent.
Damn, I have a strange feeling as if I have already read this story. But I didn't seem to read it! I wouldn't forget this. Surprisingly, I have a constant feeling of deja vu. This is either true or I have a problem with my head.
Whatever it is, it's a pretty good story. The main thing is short! The author of this story can write a small normal story and not, like other authors, a long boring thing.
By the way, the ending reminded me of the movie The Book of Eli. There, at the end, Solara took the things of the protagonist and moved on.