• Published 16th Nov 2015
  • 838 Views, 11 Comments

CiderCon Chronicles - SSCiderConOfficial



Super Speedy Cider Con reveals the main backstory to our mascots, how they met, and how this family became united as one. Enjoy! Thanks everypony~

  • ...
3
 11
 838

Chapter 9: Name

CiderCon Chronicles

Chapter 9: Name

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet." -
'Poneo and Hinnyette' : Act II Scene II by Avon Playwright

Shortly after Warm Welcome's epiphany about her cooking, she also succumbed to exhaustion. She had barely finished explaining her conclusions to the changeling when she fell asleep on the couch in mid-sentence while telling the changeling she was going to get in bed. The changeling covered her with a blanket like she had for Bramley, and went back to his chair.

He had sat there for unknown stretch of time afterwards. He sat in quiet contemplation, and stared at the slowly dying flames in the hearth.
In his exhausted state it took some time before the cognitive pieces all fell into place, but fall in place they did. When the last one fell in place, and he mentally stepped back to look at the picture that they
created, he smiled.

He was alive.
He had shelter.
He had food.

He was safe.

With that thought in his mind, the changeling went back upstairs and got into bed. With hope as his pillow, he fell asleep almost immediately.

********************

The changeling awoke to a dawn unlike any he had ever experienced. To any student of meteorology, or astronomy, or any of the sciences, the day was quantitatively unexceptional.

To the changeling, however, the day was unique. The sun was brighter than it ever had been. Bright, and cheerful, and warm. The air was more fresh and clean than he had ever noticed.
His innermost being had accepted things the way they were now as the new normal. He understood down to his core that he was starting a new life. A life that was his.
A life in which he could do as he chose. He felt strong, capable, powerful.
His banishment was, in a way, the best thing that could have happened to him.

He wanted to laugh out loud, to roar his joy to the sky, but restrained himself out of respect for those that might still be sleeping.

When he got out of bed, and opened the door, he realized that he needn't have worried. He could hear the sounds of conversation from downstairs and smell the aroma of food.

He nearly skipped down the stairs, and indeed chose to open his wings and hover down the last three.

He followed the sounds of life into the kitchen where Bramley and Warm Welcome were having breakfast. Warm Welcome sat sipping something from a steaming mug. Her hair was up in its usual braid,
and only a slight reddening of her eyes bore witness to how tired she was.

Bramley, by comparison was almost a caricature of exhaustion. He mechanically shoveled food into a mouth situated just below two bleary, barely open eyes. Atop his head sat what
appeared to be a salmon colored bird nest.

Warm Welcome saw him first and welcomed him with a cheerful "Mornin' !"

There was the customary "FWOOSH" as the changeling altered his form.

"Good morning, " the changeling replied.

The exchange startled Bramley, who was on the verge of falling asleep in his breakfast.

"Huh?" He looked around, wide eyed for a moment, and spotted the changeling. A broad smile crossed his face "Hey! Mornin'!"

The changeling returned both the smile and the greeting.

"Well come on in," Warm Welcome told him, gesturing to a place setting that the changeling hadn't noticed until now. He nodded, and took his place at the table. Warm Welcome wasted no time in piling his plate with high with the assorted foods from the table. Each time her hoof moved to add another item, she'd tell him what it was called.

"Here's some grits, they're made outtta' corn. And a couple a' biscuits. Oh and ya' can't have biscuits without gravy. Then there's hash browns, they're taters'. And finally ", she said, cramming two pastries
onto the already overloaded plate, " some fresh apple fritters. "

The changeling thanked her and dug in. Bramley and Warm Welcome chatted amiably while he ate, and in no time he'd eaten the lot.
Full and contented, the changeling sat back in his chair and let out a sigh.

Bramley took the opportunity to engage the changeling in conversation.

"Y'know, Mama and me were talkin' this mornin', and we realized that we don't even know your name. In the craziness o' everything yesterday I guess we just never got around to askin'. I mean, y'all
do have names, don'tcha?"

"We do have names." The changeling replied. "I am P'tach. If any of my kind addressed me they would call me that."

Warm Welcome and Bramley looked at each other in mild confusion. Bramley asked the question on both their minds.

"But I though you said that meant 'outcast' or sumthin' in your language. How could that be your name?"

The changeling opened his mouth, and for a moment nearly spoke the name that had once been his, but stopped himself.

"I once had a name which the Mother gave to me, but she took it from me when she banished me. P'tach -Outcast- is both what I am, and who I am. "

Warm Welcome balked at the idea. "I don't know if I can walk around callin' ya' that all the time. I just don't know how I feel about constantly remindin' ya' of it."

The changeling smiled at the affection for him in that sentiment.

He looked to Bramley and then to Warm Welcome and spoke.

"I would like for you to call me P'tach. I have been thinking quite a bit about this. The Mother gave me life. She gave me a name. She gave me shelter and food. I was a part of the Hive.
I displeased the Mother, and she took those things from me. She gave me a new name : P'tach. In naming me that, and casting me out, the Mother intended for me to die. "

He drew himself up, and his eyes burned with pride.

"I did not die. I live. You found me, and helped me. Now my life is my own. What Mother intended for ill has turned to good. I am not ashamed of being P'tach. Had I not been banished, I would never have
met you. I would never have known that there are creatures who would care for me just as I am. I would never know what it is like to be free. Perhaps I will have another name someday, but for now
I am proud that I am P'tach."

Bramley and Warm Welcome were wiping their eyes.

"Well," Warm Welcome said, choking back tears, " I guess that settles that."

********************