Just Dropping In

by Gunsmith

Chapter 11

When you sleep late in the day most of the time, you can pretty easily tell when you're up early. Or at least, I think it's fairly early. I feel well rested; my body doesn't hurt, my head doesn't hurt, my eyes don't hurt, and in fact, my eyes feel like they need to be open. I fully open my eyes, and am met with what feels like the light of one thousand suns shoved onto my retinas.

"Gah...fuck..." I mumble quietly to myself, slamming my eyes shut again and bringing my hooves up to them in an attempt to shield myself from the blinding light. I turn my head back into the couch, seeing purple and white spots on my eyes. God damn it. I pull my right foreleg away from my face and move my opposite leg to cover both my eyes, then roll onto the floor, balancing on three legs. I stand there for a moment, not wanting to move or open my eyes. I eventually move my left leg slowly back to the ground, then tentatively open my eyes, squinting.

I can see why I was blinded so badly; the early morning sun is shining directly in through one of the room's windows, right into my face. I turn away from the too-well-lit window and stumble, still half-dazed, to the entrance into the staircase at the other side of the room. I open my eyes a little wider now, blinking and trying to clear the spots that distort my vision. Eventually, parts of my vision stop being purple, and I start to head down the soft stairs that absorb my hooves a little as my weight rests on them. I enter the bottom floor of the floating house.

I'm a little surprised when I see a light blue, rainbow-maned pegasus sitting on the floor in front of the cloud table in the center of the room. A green Granny Smith apple sits in front of Rainbow Dash, a few bites taken out of it. A look at Rainbow tells me she's not a morning person--pony, either. Her mane is more mussed up than usual, some tufts of hair sticking out here and there. Her eyelids are barely open, only showing a small part of her magenta eyes. I spot Tank behind her, on one of the counters, eating a carrot; he looks tired all the time, so I can't tell if he is a fan of mornings or not. Dash leans in groggily for another bite of apple, glancing up a little as she does; her peripheral must catch me. Her eyes open a little more and brighten considerably, the magenta in her eyes going from less of a purple to more of a pink; maybe it's just the light.

"Oh, hey, Ferrum," she says, smiling tiredly. Her voice cracks a little more than usual.

"Hey, Rainbow Dash. Feeling any better today?" I ask, smiling a similar smile back.

"What? Oh, yeah...remind me not to try and eat more cookies than Applejack next time, okay?" Rainbow replies, chuckling.

I laugh quietly. "Got it." I look at her apple, suddenly feeling peckish. "Mind if I grab something to eat?"

"No, go ahead," she answers, taking the bite of her apple she was about to before I trotted in. I go around the table and reach the icebox, opening it and pulling out an apple of my own, also green; she seems to be running low on red apples. I take a seat across from her at the table, setting my apple down atop its soft surface.

Before I bite into my breakfast, I ask, "Gotta work today?" Obviously, dumb-ass.

"Yeah," Dash replies, swallowing a mouthful of apple. "Wish there were more days off. I like my job, but getting up early is...not awesome."

"Yeah." I chomp into my apple, listening as it crunches heartily in my mouth. Speaking of jobs, I need to get one, my mind reminds itself. If I'm going to be living in Equestria, I ought to find a job to at least be able to sustain myself. And to pay back Dash somehow...I cringe a little inwardly with guilt. I feel bad for living off her means. It was understandable for when I was injured, not being able to fly and all, but now...where would I go, though, if I were to leave? I make a good point to myself. Where would I go? I'm not really from here. I have no previous home, no family or friends (other than Rainbow Dash), and no idea as to where I would even go. Equestria is an alien place for me; all I know of are Ponyville and the surrounding area, the rest of the places in this world I have only heard of or seen in minor detail.

I have to pay her back, somehow. My own mind will kill me with guilt if I don't. And a job's a start towards that, I suppose. I think of a question to ask, hoping it doesn't sound stupid to Rainbow Dash.

"Hey, uhh, if I were to get a job, how would I...do so? Like, how would I go about it?" I ask. I have to know how to properly get a job if I want a job, and have no clue how jobs even work in Equestria. Should I write out a resume? God, I hope not; writing is a bitch without any hands.

Rainbow stares at me blankly for a few seconds, chewing the last bite of her apple. I continue to look at her, blinking every so often in anticipation for any sort of reaction. She swallows her apple and a smile crosses her face. Dash lets out a little snort and closes her eyes, still smiling when she opens them. "Really?" she asks, minor disbelief in her voice. I can feel a little heat in my cheeks from embarrassment. Yeah, probably a stupid question. She chuckles before continuing. "Just go ask someone for a job."

"That sounds easy enough." And it does; no resumes, no suits or polo shirts? I hate polo shirts; the collar annoys me. One of the finer perks about being virtually naked, twenty-four-seven. In fact, fur is very preferable to clothing; warm, soft, and I don't even feel it on me most of the time.

"It is. When I went to get a job as weatherpony for Ponyville, I just went in there and said, 'Hey, can I have a job?', and they tested me a little to see if I would be good for the job. I still hold the record for fastest cloud-clearing over Ponyville. Cleared the sky in ten seconds flat, you shoulda' seen the looks on those ponies' faces," Rainbow Dash half-reminisces, half-boasts. She has a proud look on her face, and she sits up straighter; Rainbow seems much more awake, now. I smile, watching her, chuckling after she finishes.

"I bet you made head weatherpony in no time," I compliment.

"Oh yeah, I got promoted pretty fast," she says. Dash stops puffing out her chest as much, and her proud, distant look, returns to more of an amused smile directed at me. "So, finally decide to quit being lazy and get a job?" she jokes, grinning.

I return the grin, amused by the insult. "Yeah, I figured I may as well. The least I can do for you after helping me out so much is pay you back, or buy food, or something," I conclude more seriously.

I can again see some color appear, then quickly disappear, in her face. She seems to be pretty good at stifling embarrassment, a trait I envy a little. "Ferrum...you don't..." Rainbow Dash fumbles a little with her words. She glances down, now more obviously trying to hide blushing. "You don't owe me or anything, y'know..."

Now I feel embarrassed for making her embarrassed. Ironic, isn't it? Maybe. Irony is something I'm not sure on a lot of the time. "No, I just...I feel like I do. You've helped me out a ton...I've got to...do something. I wouldn't feel right if I didn't," I finish, finding myself also avoiding eye contact. A few seconds of silence befall the kitchen; they feel like hours. I spot my apple, half-eaten, seeing it as a way out of the awkward moment. I lean down and bite into it, chewing a little slowly.

Rainbow breaks the silence, thankfully. "So, uh, you're a blacksmith, right? Something like that."

I swallow the sourish, juicy chunk of fruit, meeting her eyes again. "Yeah, a blacksmith." My voice cracks a little, and I quickly cough to clear my throat. "I think I saw a smithy, where blacksmiths work, down in Ponyville's town square. Figured I'd go check it out, see if I can get a job there," I explain.

"Oh, okay, cool," she says. "Speaking of which..." Dash glances out the window, seeing that the day is getting brighter already, the blue sky nearly fully cleansed of red and orange light. "...I should probably get going." She turns back and smiles apologetically.

"Alright. I might as well get an early start, too," I reply. I quickly bite off the last piece of my apple, then pick up the core in my teeth. Rainbow Dash does the same with her cored apple, and we stand up. I can feel my joints pop a little as I do so. She trots over to the trash can and deposits the fruit husk in, and I follow suit. Rainbow trots over to the door leading outside, looking back to see if I am coming, which I am, following her out the door, which swings closed behind me. We trot, me a little ways behind her, to the edge of her cloud property. She turns to me.

"Well...see you later, Ferrum. Good luck finding a job," she adds, smiling.

"Thanks. Have a good day," I tell her, smiling back. I watch as she looks up and forward, flapping her wings to get off of the cloud. I follow her gaze, and see that it is locked on a structure I had not noticed before in the distance; likely due to the fact it is made of clouds. It sits above Ponyville, near the outskirts, floating somewhat higher than Rainbow Dash's own cloud building. I assume it is the Ponyville weather station. I turn back to Dash, hovering in the sky. I smile at her again, and she returns it with a smile of her own before flying forward, towards the cloud structure in the distance. I watch her cyan blue form as it leaves a faint rainbow streak behind it until she becomes a speck in my vision.

I direct my eyes over the edge of the cloud, looking onto Ponyville, still covered in the perfectly thick blanket of white snow. Not many ponies, colored dots against a white canvas, roam the streets of the town at this hour; those that do are likely those with jobs in the town. I decide to take a more careful descent today, fairly sure I scared the hell out of some civilians yesterday. My brain again begins to refuse the idea of jumping off the nice, safe cloud, but I jump forward anyways, using the cloud as a spring to help me gain momentum.

I spread my wings instantaneously upon hitting the open air, feeling a tug on them as the weight of my body begins to rest upon them. I glide at a low angle towards the ground, feeling the currents beneath my wings, pressing my feathers against each other, the wind gently blowing against my face and sending my two-tone gray mane backwards. I float on the air for a few seconds, debating how I will reach Ponyville at a more speedy rate than this. Coming to a decision, I maneuver my shoulders and back muscles to alter my wings, pulling my right wing in a little and extending my left wing more.

I can feel my internals shift to the right side of my body as I begin tilting the same direction. Combined with my downwards angle, which I increase a little more, I head into a clockwise spiral down towards Ponyville's outskirts. I stretch my legs out in front of me and behind me. I feel like a pilot, and am tempted to make some super-realistic airplane noises, but don't for fear a fellow pony might hear me. I dip my right wing more and tilt down again, tightening the cyclone of my descent. I wonder to myself if this is what getting flushed down a toilet feels like. I decide this is much better than that.

I eventually near the ground, a little dizzy from my circular method of decreasing altitude. I stop gliding and spiraling about twenty feet off the ground, then hover the rest of the way down. I realize that, rather than how a normal bird's wings work, pegasi wings seem to be more like hummingbird wings, allowing them, me, to hover, fly backwards, et cetera. A piff of snow marks my landing outside Ponyville.

I see that I am standing near where Rainbow Dash and I landed yesterday. I momentarily recall the exhilaration and sheer awesomeness of my dive from her cloud house, and decide I will have to do it again sometime. I look around, again spotting Fluttershy's cottage, covered in snow. Some smoke comes from a chimney on the side of the house. A thought crosses my mind that I should go and re-visit each of the Mane Six, individually, but decide against it upon the basis that that would seem really weird. The MLP fan in me can wait if it means preserving the normal appearance I am attempting to give myself in front of these ponies.

Orienting myself towards the bridge leading into Ponyville, I begin trotting in its direction. This area of the town seems empty at this time of day. A minute of trotting at a steady pace passes. Houses begin to populate the area, and I can see the inner part of Ponyville stretching out a ways ahead of me. A few ponies pass me by, and I smile and nod a little to those who make eye contact with me or look at me. The ponies of the town actually seem to be nice enough folk, returning my smiles or saying a small "hello" back to me. I decide that I like the residents of Ponyville. Even if there are a few bad apples in the bunch, they seem to be hospitable and overall nice; I wonder offhandedly if Applejack uses apple-related phrases as much as she possibly can.

In the midst of my thoughts and in greeting the ponies that pass me, I seem to have neared the town's center. I slow my pace down, taking a closer look around than before. Various stores, restaurants, and vendors populate the area heavily, all surrounding the town hall. The town hall itself has an odd design, not medieval or Nordic in style at all. It looks more like one of those things in courtyards, the covered structures that are usually in white, and overlook a lake or something. I can't remember what they're called; and to think I remember that the end of a shoelace is called an "aglet". I snort to myself, in a little humor and disgrace towards my memory. The town hall looks something like Rarity's house, Carousel Boutique, too, but more refined and less pink. I see that the large porch encircling the building is what the mayor and other ponies give speeches on, recognizing it from the various times it was incorporated on the television show.

I turn away from the town hall, more interested in the marketplace around me. Ironically, maybe, the town square is more of a circle, the shops surrounding the town hall in such a formation. I see the restaurant where I had recognized a few ponies, one very human-like, yesterday. It seems fancy; a pony waiter, dressed in a suit and tie, tends to the tables outside the building, clearing the snow off of them and the seats situated around them. Various stalls selling many things surround me; I see vendors selling goods such as hot pies, scarves, and firewood. Shops built in the square also help to fill it. I spot a store selling books, a clothing store, a store named Quills and Sofas (I wonder what they sell), and a few other buildings with signs that indicate something I'm unsure of. One of them has a picture of something resembling a whoopee cushion as a sign; a joke store? My scanning eyes finally come to rest upon the building I was looking for; it appears to be made nearly entirely out of stone, but it does fit in with the rest of the buildings in Ponyville.

A fairly large sign that appears to be made of metal, iron judging by the rusty look it has from exposure to the elements, sits on the face of the gray building. The insignia it bears is uncannily similar to one placed upon my flanks; a hammer poised above an anvil at an angle, as if about to strike it. The only difference it bears in comparison to my own representation of the image is that it has a brownish-silver coloring and is likely fifty times larger. I stare at the sign a moment, intrigued. Is this sign a...sign? In one interpretation, obviously so, but in another, possibly. Either way I feel compelled to go to the building. I look away from the sign, leveling my eyes with the general area of Ponyville's town square and marketplace.

More ponies are roaming about now, starting to populate businesses. I decide I had better get going before the square gets too populated with colorful, equine creatures. I begin trotting towards the building I have focused on, beginning in a beeline towards it. I have to change course a few times to avoid bumping into ponies. I am tempted to just fly the short distance to the stone structure, but it occurs to me that that might be taken as rude by my fellow pedestrians. I eventually reach the front of the building. I glance over into one of the two windows on the face of the smithy, spotting a sign which reads Yes, we're open!. I return my sight to the door in front of me, a swinging door with no handle, like those that seem to be prominent in every house I have seen in Equestria so far. I take a step forward, leaning my head down to push open the door.

As I do so, my tilted vision catches a pony breaking off from the general crowd in the town square and heading towards me, towards the stone building. I am a little surprised that I recognize the pony; it is a mare, and her orange coat, blond mane, and signature cowboy hat identify her as Applejack in my mind. I wonder for a moment why she is coming to the smithy, then remember my manners and push into the door. It swings inward; I hear a bell jingle as the door opens. I continue to press my head against the door until it is fully open, then hold it open with a hoof. I look back outside, watching as the orange earth pony trots inside the shop, which I notice seems to be fairly warm despite the cold material the whole place is made of. She clears the door and I move my leg, letting the door swing shut. Applejack turns to me, tipping her hat towards me with a foreleg.

"Thanks, partn--" She stops when her hat is released of pressure from her leg, allowing her to see my face. Her eyes widen a little in recognition, green irises becoming more visible. "Ferrum? Well, fancy meetin' you here!" says Applejack, smiling.

"Hi, Applejack," I reply. Initiate small talk! "So'd you enjoy the party last night?"

"'Twas ah right good'un, that's fer sure. Pinkie makes some darn good cookies. Tell Rainbow Dash that ah won that cookie eatin' contest, will yah?" she asks, grinning devilishly.

"I bet she'll enjoy hearing that," I say with a hint of sarcasm in my voice, returning the grin.

Applejack chuckles. "Well, nice seein' yah here," she says, smiling again.

"As to you," I return with my own smile. I gesture with a foreleg and glance towards the counter in the room; a look of remembrance crosses her face, and she trots over to it. I continue to stand off to the side of the room, taking an opportunity to look around. The interior of the entire room, walls, floor, and ceiling, are all a gray stone, save for the door, which seems to be wooden. Two thick glass windows, positioned on either side of the centered door, naturally light the room with the morning sun. The walls are lined with various objects made of iron and steel; I see various utensils and cooking tools, steel and iron bars of varying lengths, horseshoes of a few different sizes, and best of all, a few different melee weapons. The weapons all seem to be made of steel, which I know is stronger than iron and makes for better durability; knives of various lengths and purposes are lined up on one part of a wall, some looking smooth and sharp, while others appearing to be jagged with serration and more like combat weapons. Swords fill the walls, too, ranging from fairly large swords to small shortswords, wide-bladed to stiletto-like, fancy and decorative to honed and deadly-looking. I know the ponies are naturally nonviolent beings, but damn!

I have to remind myself that the weapons are likely used for display, decor, or general purpose. Many back on Earth seemed to forget that a knife could do more than stab people. I knew from my own ownership of multiple combat knives that knives could do almost as much as duct tape, from slicing rope or tough meats to even being used as a hammer or a pry. The swords were another question, likely more for decor, or maybe the aspiring pony adventurer. I note that all of the creations, weapon or not, are extremely well-crafted. Maybe it's just the cartoon look of the world that adds to how perfect the tools and other creations appear, but it seems the handiwork is that of a master; no scratches, dents, or deformities befall the pieces of iron and steel, the blades all seem razor sharp, and everything is almost perfectly symmetrical. I am tempted to just admire the...art as long as I can, but recall I need to be job-hunting, not metal-watching.

I turn away from the walls filled with shaped metals, looking to the wall opposite the door. It is filled with more iron and steel creations, including a couple of shields that reflect some of the morning light in the room. On this wall is another door, also centered and also wooden. It seems to lead to another portion of the smithy. In front of this door is a stone counter, placed far enough away from the door to provide space to situate a pony behind it. Atop the counter rests a couple more gray objects, including a few horseshoes, a decorative helmet, and three blocks--no, ingots of steel, situated in a triangle atop each other. Applejack stands in front of the counter, talking to a pony behind it.

The first thing I notice about the pony behind the stone counter is their color, which is a silver color, one I can very easily compare to the color of the ingots on the counter in front of them. I see that the pony is a male, a stallion, judging by the more squared face structure. His mane is a mix of a very dark gray and streaks of red; it looks like how the embers of a fire appear. He has an older, tired look about him, but faint crow's feet and laugh lines mark a jolly attitude; that and the fact he's smiling genuinely at Applejack as they converse across the counter. He seems to be more muscled, or low-set, or something, than me, maybe due to years of practicing his possession; then again, I'm tall and thin, as I always have been, whether in Earth or Equestria. I can't make out his cutie mark very well; I realize I've gotten into the habit of looking at the cutie marks of ponies when I see them, but remind myself it is also an indication to who they are or what they do. The steel-colored pony's mark appears to bear resemblance to...I glance back at the stack of steel ingots on the counter. Yes, a pile of three steel ingots. It's hard to discern them from his general coat, and doing so is only made possible by the black cartoon outlines that define the separate ingots, on his coat as they do on the actual things sitting on the counter. I finally notice that he is a pegasus, steel wings pressed in to his sides. A part of me questions why pegasi seem to be the blacksmiths around here.

My brain returns to absorbing and analyzing information at a normal rate, and I hear Applejack and the gray pegasus behind the counter talking.

"So, are Big Mac's shoes ready yet? We'll be needin' 'em soon, Wrap Up comin' here soon an' all," drawls Applejack.

The pony smiles at her and begins to duck down behind the counter. "I've got 'em right here, actually," he replies, his voice a little muffled beneath the counter. The gray pegasus' voice sounds deep, somewhat deeper than my own, and more gravelly. I can hear the slight twang of an accent, recognizing it as being something like a Tennessee accent, similar to my own. My old state and Tennessee were only separated by one state, after all. He surfaces, a cardboard box now in his mouth. It looks weighted down by some heavier objects. He sets it on the counter in front of Applejack, and I can hear the clang of metal-on-metal as he does.

"Whoo-ee!" Applejack says, elated. "Yer faster than a jackrabbit. Thank yah!"

The pegasus smiles and nods to her, watching as she picks up the box in her teeth. "Got it?" he questions, receiving a nod and a smile from the orange earth pony in return. He nods and smiles again in affirmation. I watch as Applejack turns around, box filled with horseshoes in her mouth. She glances over to where I stand and smiles, nodding to me as she goes to leave the store. I smile, and again, remember my good mannerisms that were pounded into me as a kid. I take a few steps over to the door and push it open, holding it there with my foreleg. Applejack nods again to me before trotting out of the shop. I allow the door to close, turning back to the counter and the pegasus behind it. I begin trotting towards the stone counter.

As I do, the steel pony asks, smiling, "What can I help you with? Need some shoes, new train parts, a weapon, maybe? I can make just about anything you need outta' metal."

I make sure to stand a little straighter, or at least try not to slouch. "Actually..." Manners, damn it! "...sir, I'm looking for a job. Are there...er...any available?" I'm used to phone calls, dressing decently, handing in a resume; this is making me a little nervous. My nervousness grows as the smile fades from his face. His eyes harden a little, and his jaw sets. Though I'm taller than him by a few inches, I feel quite small at the moment.

"So. You think you can just...waltz in here, asking for a job? You think that's how it works?" His voice is low and level, and I feel like he's about to grab one of the knives in the room and start stabbing me. Fuck, what did I say? I repeat my words in my head, trying to find something wrong. Should I have worn clothes? Maybe cut my mane or something? I attempt to reply to defend myself somehow.

"Uhh..." is all I can manage.

The pegasus glares menacingly for a few more seconds. I almost wish I was sweating, because it feels odd that I am not. I begin glancing around at the various weapons, wondering how well I could defend myself against the pony. I feel my wings also beginning to extend, preparing for the "flight" option if "fight" fails. Suddenly I see his face lighten, and a grin crosses his mouth, making the laugh lines show on his face. "Hay, I'm just messing with you. That's exactly how it works!"

God damn it. A smile makes its way onto my own face and I relax a little, wondering if he'll switch it up again and tell me that it really isn't how it works. I snort a little in humor.

"And though it's a nice touch, no 'sir' stuff, alright?" continues the steel pegasus. "Name's Forge, and you'll call me that from now on, boss or not," says Forge, extending his right foreleg with the intention of a hoofshake. I nod, still smiling sheepishly, and put out my own leg, grasping his hoof. The blacksmith's hoofshake is firm but controlled, and I can tell that he could knock damn near anyone into next week. We withdraw our respective legs. "So what's your name?" Forge starts off.

"Ferrum," I reply. "My name's Ferrum." I don't add anything else, waiting for him to continue.

"And you want a job here, as a blacksmith, yeah?"

"Yes, I do," I say, nodding my head to reinstate the fact.

"Had any previous experience?"

Hmm. I know I have not, and don't know much about the specifics of blacksmithing, let alone how to do it. I could lie to sound more appealing, but I'd be found out fairly quickly with my lack of knowledge and experience.

"No, I haven't." I watch his face for a reaction, but notice his friendly smile does not waver, nor does the same friendly look in his eyes. I was expecting confusion, or disappointment, or something, but I see no change in heart. I wonder if he's just wearing a poker face.

"Alright. Why do you want to get a job here? Last question," Forge adds.

I'm about to reply with used-to-want-to-be-a-gunsmith-now-I'm-here-so-obviously-I-should-be-a-blacksmith, but remember that's probably not a suitable answer. "Well..." I start. Where should I go with this? "I don't really know. I just feel like I'm meant to be a blacksmith. Something like that." I know it sounds unprofessional, or childish, and am starting to regret my choice of words. A thoughtful look crosses Forge's face.

"Okay, I understand. Same reason I became a blacksmith; no reason at all, other than that it felt right." I'm a little surprised at the answer. I guess that's how you're supposed to feel about something you enjoy. My mind wavers a little, and a familiar magenta-eyed mare enters my thoughts momentarily. I try to refocus, finding it a little hard. "Well, Ferrum, you seem like a good kid," Forge says. I wonder how old he actually is. I haven't been called "kid" by many other people save for those quite a bit older than me; I think my height prevented most from looking down on me as they would a child. "You're hired."

"Thank you...Forge," I reply, avoiding "sir". I'm a little confused as to why he hired me, but I don't dispute it. "So...what now?" I ask.

"Hmm..." He glances upward in thought, returning his eyes back to me after a moment's decision. "I'll just show you around the place today. I'm going to have to set some things up for you so that you can get started tomorrow. You'll be working as my striker until you learn the ropes. Know what that is?"

"No, I don't," I reply, unsure of what a "striker" is. Some sort of an assistant, likely.

"A striker's an assistant, basically." Nailed it. "You'll mainly be watching me and helping me out by using a big hammer to thin out the iron while it's hot. It's how everyone starts out. I'm going to give you part-time pay until I think you're ready to start making things to sell in the shop, okay?" finishes Forge.

"Alright, that sounds fine," I say. Any money, even a little, is better than none at this point. My thoughts are starting to drift to Rainbow Dash again.

He smiles, pleased I'm content with the standards. "Come on, follow me, I'll show you around."

I maneuver around the counter and follow him as he pushes through the wooden door behind the counter, entering into a room behind the main shop area. I continue through the wooden door after him, making sure it swings closed behind me. As I turn away from the door, the first thing I notice about the new room I am in is the change in lighting. There are no windows in sight, and instead the room is lit by four torches, mounted in each corner of the room. The room is fairly large in size. The combination of the torchlight and the stone building material gives the room a steady, somewhat low amount of light. I notice that the room is a few degrees warmer than the last; I see that this is due to what sits in the center of the room, a good twenty feet away from me. A large, low-sitting circle made of stone is the focal point of the room. It is a hollow circle, and I see that the center holds the source of heat, which also serves to light the room, giving off a bright red-orange glow. In this raised stone pit are burning coals; their combined heat creates a bright layer of flame over top of them. The flames sit low, however, giving the pit of fire in the center of the room an appearance I can compare to lava, or magma. I recognize this as the main forge, where the metals would be heated.

A couple of furnaces line the back wall of the room; a small mountain of coal sits between them, a shovel dug into its side. I see that a trough of black water sits beside the forge, and assume it's used for cooling the ultra-hot metals as quickly as possible. Some anvils are placed about the room, various tools like large sledgehammers, smaller hammers, chisels, and various others that look like they are intended for precision laying on or beside them. Metal workbenches covered in scratches and small dents rest against the walls to my left and right; both of the workbenches seem to have devices looking like vises on them. A grinding wheel that seems to be pedal-operated lies off to the side of one workbench, and some taut strips of leather--no, not leather, ponies don't use leather--of...something...are stretched out on the wall beside the wheel. And finally, metal is strewn everywhere. Poles and bars, ingots, knives and other utensils, horseshoes, pieces of armor meant for horses (or ponies), and general chunks of metals and ores lay all over the room, up against walls, resting on the forge, placed on worktables, or in various places on the floor.

Forge turns his head back to face mine. "This is where the magic happens," he says, gesturing with a foreleg around the general area of the room. "That's the main forge, there in the center. Gotta keep it burning bright to make it hot enough to soften the metal," Forge explains while pointing at the object after which he was named. He moves his hoof a little, now at the water trough. "Dip the metal in there to cool it down. Don't drink it, either." I nod, smiling a little. He trots around one side of the forge, and I take a few steps forward. "Those are the furnaces," he says, aiming a hoof towards one of the little structures at the back of the room. "Miners bring in the ores, and I melt 'em down so I can use 'em." He turns to one of the workbenches on the wall. "Know how to use a vise?" I dip my head in confirmation that I do. He returns the nod, continuing, "Good." Forge glances towards the grinding wheel, saying, "That's a grinder. Little tricky to work, gotta be careful not to nick yourself when you're using it, you'll get a free haircut." He trots over to the grinder, picking up an average kitchen knife off of the workbench with his teeth. He holds the blade facing outwards and to his right. Forge trots over to one side of the yellow-gray wheel, then moves out his right foreleg onto one of the pedals on it.

He begins to spin the wheel, then leans in a little towards it, careful to keep his distance. The metal blade makes contact with the spinning stone, and sparks glance off of it. A steady stream of small specks of fire fly off the metal and dissipate harmlessly into the air, and a loud scraping noise makes me cringe a little. I watch as Forge tilts his head a little, and more sparks fly off of an un-sharpened portion of the knife. After a few seconds of sharpening, he stops pedaling the wheel, replacing the knife on the workbench near him.

"You'll want to use the grinder here for first sharpening blades and points, when they're really dull. When you've got a blade or tip on it, and want to make it more fine, you use..." He trails off, picking up the knife in his teeth again. Forge trots around the sharpening wheel to the strips of the material I know are not leather, but seem like it. "...'ese," he finishes, speech distorted by the metal he grips in his jaws. He takes the blade, holding it outward again, then scrapes it at an angle along one of the strips. After a few seconds, he stares down towards the knife, cross-eyed, then gives a satisfied look and returns to the workbench, replacing the crafted metal.

My curiosity as to what the looks-like-leather-but-can't-possibly-be material is starting to overwhelm my thoughts. "Uhh, Forge, what are those strips? What are they made of?" I question.

He glances back at them before looking back to me. "Oh, those are strips of cloth or something. They're covered in a layer of little gems. The gems are harder than the metal, so they sharpen it. That mare down at that dress store made it for me a while back, Rare or Rarity or something like that. Must've taken her ages, setting in all those tiny little stones, not to mention she made three of them when I had asked for one. Nice pony, she is," Forge trails off, a little lost in thought. There is silence for a moment before he continues. "So, any other questions, Ferrum?"

I go over what he has explained, not finding anything else disputable. I still question why pegasi seem to be blacksmiths, instead of earth ponies, who might be stronger, or unicorns, who could more easily handle and shape the hot materials without much injury or hassle, but I refrain from asking, feeling it might be too off-hand. "No, I don't think so," I reply.

"Alright, well, I think that's all for the grand tour. I want you back here tomorrow, and the rest of the week, sometime around when the sun is raised. Sunrise to sunset, give or take, weekends are all yours, okay?" asks Forge.

"Okay," I reply, nodding once in agreement and smiling.

He returns the smile, then makes himself look serious. "Now get out, I have orders to fill."

I snort and grin, turning towards the door. I can hear him chuckle behind me as I trot out. I push open the door, re-entering the shop. I am met with late morning light that fills the shop. I take a last look at the shining tools, weapons, and other metal supplies in the room before trotting out into the snow and pony filled town square of Ponyville again, smiling to myself and feeling pleased.

***

I spend the remainder of the day flying around the outskirts of Ponyville, observing the scenery. The land the small town is based in reminds me of my old home, being mild forest and grassland, yet holding a surprising amount of awe-inspiring features. The rivers traversing the town, frozen over in the cold weather, the large hills overlooking it, one of which holds the farm of the Apple family, a seemingly small red structure sitting atop a peak, separated from me by Ponyville. The multitude of houses, the small-town feel with an actually fairly large size, much of it brings a lot of memory to me. I feel a few things throughout the day; happiness, sadness (or really, homesickness), emptiness, contentment, all of them hit me at some point. I'll feel down for a while, then think of the positive, and become happy for a while. It eventually confuses me somewhat, and I end up feeling numb.

My state of numbness ends when I notice the color around me starting to change, beginning to gain a orange tint. I look to the sky and see the sun beginning to set, realizing I should probably return to Rainbow Dash's home. I hope that she hasn't been waiting for me, and take to the skies.

A few minutes of climbing the air and I reach the cloud supporting her house, landing upon it. I trot to the house and enter, finding the kitchen empty. I listen for a moment, waiting for any signs of Rainbow.

"Hello?" I ask a little loudly, directing my voice towards the stairs leading upward. After a few seconds, I hear a little whirring noise growing steadily louder, and soon, Tank the flying tortoise appears in the stair well, hovering into the kitchen. "Hey, Tank," I say to him, smiling. "Rainbow Dash isn't home yet, eh?" He begins swinging his head to the side in reply, as quickly as paint dries. I watch until he finishes a single shake back-and-forth of his little green head, then snort quietly in amusement. Something seems to catch his eye, and he flies over to one of the cloud windows. I momentarily forget they are merely openings in the wall, and am a bit stunned as I watch him fly out the window, thinking he flew through the window. I trot over to the window he raced out of, wondering what he saw.

I approach the window and peer out, seeing what excited him. Tank circles in the air around a sky blue pegasus with a rainbow colored mane, who is now trotting towards her house. I can faintly hear Rainbow Dash greeting Tank, and see her smile at the hovering reptile. I watch her out the kitchen window until she is near the house, then get an idea. I quickly make my way over to the area of the room behind the door, crouching down a little and waiting. After a few seconds, the door is pushed open, nearly hitting me in the face. I hold in my breath, smiling to myself. As the cloud door swings closed, I see Dash trot in, followed by Tank. Rainbow Dash watches Tank as he hovers over to another part of the room, then lets out a sigh, puffing out her cheeks as she does so.

My smile turns to a grin, but I continue holding my breath. I begin to slowly move forward, one hoof at a time, approaching an unaware Rainbow Dash. Time seems to slow down, but a couple of seconds of quiet movement places me only a foot or two behind her. I lean forward a little.

"Boo."

"Yaah!" cries Dash, jumping a few inches off the floor. Her wings flare out to their full extent almost instantaneously, and I jerk back a little to avoid them. She spins around, looking panicked. Rainbow's look of panic turns to one of disbelief when she sees me standing behind, now in front of, her. She relaxes a little and I see a smile start to form on her lips. "Ferrum! Don't do that!" she says, trying to sound angry but failing. Dash lifts a foreleg and gives me a playful punch in the shoulder, having to reach up a little to do so.

"Do what?" I reply, starting to laugh.

She continues to attempt to look angry at me, but eventually can't help herself and starts to chuckle with me. She hangs her head in embarrassment, continuing to laugh for a while as I do. "Okay, I guess that was pretty good," Rainbow Dash tells me, still chuckling.

My own laughter dies down. "Oh, boy, your reaction was perfect," I say, grinning with a feeling of achievement and humor.

She laughs a little more, then seems to realize something. Rainbow glances back, seeing that her cyan wings continue to remain outstretched, feathers spread. She turns back to me, looking down a little, and I see her face reddening with heat. "Uhh...sorry," she apologizes, indicating her wings. "They'll go down sometime...you just...scared me, is all," Dash explains. I see her wings flex downwards a little, and I assume she's attempting to force them down, but is failing.

I smile and chuckle. "It's alright. So, how did your day go?" I begin.

Rainbow Dash tells me about her mainly uneventful day as we begin preparing some dinner for ourselves. Over some hay, flower, and bread sandwiches, she asks about my own day. I tell her of my newly acquired job as a blacksmith in Ponyville, of the boss I think I'll enjoy, and of some of the features of the smithy and of the job. Rainbow tells me again that I don't owe her anything, and that I don't need to get a job, and I again state that I feel that I do. It gets a little awkward, as it did earlier when the subject was brought up, but we finish our meals soon after, preventing a long and uncomfortable silence. Dash and I are both tired and decide to go to sleep a little early to catch up.

I bid her goodnight, and break off from the stairs into the living room. My spot on the couch awaits me diligently, and I flop down upon it, overwhelmed by a feeling of relaxation from standing and flying. Thoughts of whether it is healthy or not for ponies to lie down drift around in my head, as I recall a piece of knowledge informing me horses were not supposed to lie down for long periods of time. I also remember that horses and ponies shouldn't talk, either, and drop the thoughts, allowing my mind to shut down for the night.

Comments

[Gunsmith]

Get a job, you lazy bum! Here's Chapter 11. Sorry it took so long to complete, I didn't think it would be such a lengthy chapter. Questions, comments, or concerns? Share it here, let me know what's on your mind.

Thanks, everyone.

[Rarelygood]

One comment... Write faster! XD I hate waiting for a good story to update. Also Second!

[Material Defender]

Good chapter.

[shadowless_night]

another good chapter my friend i shall be waiting in anticipation for the next chapter

[Gunsmith]

You guys are pretty damn awesome. I apologize again for not writing faster, I'm trying while still attempting to get some sleep. Probably can't write tonight, computer won't be available. I've got some more chapters planned out, though, so fear not, they will come fairly soon.

Mas realimentacion por favor. Me gusta realimentacion mucho.

Also, I would like to thank all of you who have favorite-d the story so far. I would thank each of you individually, but there are quite a few of you and I'm also lazy as hell. I highly appreciate the notion, and am happy to see my story has been entertaining enough to earn your favorites. The same goes to everyone who has liked the story, disliked the story, commented on it, or just read it in general; I am very grateful for all of your support, criticism, and everything else. Again, you all are pretty damn awesome, and I thank you.

[Petrichor]

This is why I hate reading "incomplete" stories. You read a set of chapters and it starts to get really good, but then you have to wait for an update once you get to the last completed chapter...sigh...

I have enjoyed your story sir/madam, and I eagerly await your next chapter.

[Dark Protector]

...Yup, still awesome. Keep up the good work.

[Gunsmith]

Sir, and thank you. I agree, incomplete stories are not awesome. I'm working as quickly as I can, while still trying to make the story a good read and dealing with the small amount of time I have to write.

Starting on 12, and it will likely come tomorrow or the following day.

Edit: Made a good start on 12. I enjoy starting off with a morning scene, they give off a peaceful vibe for me. Hopefully I'll make much more progress tomorrow.

[Harvey Birdman]

this has got to be the only story I have read where all the chapters are long... you sir can have my intenets

[Dan]

I figured that in liu of leather, an Equestrian smith would use a tough fabric like hemp or thick denim.

Your explanation works better.

[Lord Etters]

720639

I would like to know...was the wing part genuine fear...or the dreaded wing-boner? more importantly if it is the latter....why would she be aroused? she blushed...and she paused hmmmm I think ferrum should get a book on pegasus anatomy!