The Inexplicable Mort
Spike’s tongue slid across the face of the plate, grabbing every stray crumb and jam left behind. Smacking his lips, he then passed it over to Twilight, who scrubbed it with a soapy sponge until she could see her reflection in it.
“That’s the last of it,” she said, with a touch of finality. The plate dropped into the soapy water, the overflow spilling into the adjacent sink.
Granny Smith had finished up packing the rest of the leftovers, dropping an uneaten tart into a plastic bag. She wrapped it close with a whistle. “Goodness me! Seems that my eyes are always a little too big for our stomachs!”
“You did a great job, Granny.” Twilight looked over the pile of bags and containers in front of her. Her horn glowed, floating the bags of food around her, and proceeded to put them one-by-one into the fridge. “Thank you for having us over.”
“Ain’t nothin’ to it. Y’all are practically family as it is, after everythin’ we been through together.” She dried some sweat with a dish towel, exhaling loudly. “Ooh, I really need to lie down! Not sure how everypony can be up fer a game after all that food. How are they doin’ anyway, Spike?”
Spike hopped over to a window and pulled himself up to look out. “Uh, it looks like it could be going better?”
Twilight looked out the window next. Near the farmhouse, there had been a small area that Applejack had picked clean in order to create a makeshift hoofball field. The Apple family plus Mort was on one team, with Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, and Scootaloo on the other. After an incident with one of the hoofballs, Mort now wore a tin pail on his head, covering up his horn. In what struck her as an effort to make him more comfortable, everypony else had also donned their own headwear, improvising with whatever they found. They wore wooden buckets, pots, small bundles of hay... Apple Bloom had even taken Winona’s food dish, much to the dog’s chagrin.
She couldn’t help but sigh when she saw that Applejack and Rainbow Dash were in the middle of an argument, and even from inside she could just make out the accusations: Applejack accused Rainbow Dash of moving too soon, and Rainbow Dash proclaimed that she hadn’t. Rarity stood in between them, looking frazzled. The two of them then turned to Rarity for her view... only to have her ask what “offsides” meant. That’s when things got really loud.
“Seems Rainbow Dash should’ve asked Rarity if she even knew the rules of the game,” Granny commented, shaking her head mournfully. “At this rate, I’m goin’ to have to break out the boxin’ shoes!”
“Yeah, and maybe call a doctor, too,” Twilight added flatly. “We should probably go out there before things get worse.”
Spike’s hand suddenly shot up. “Ooh, I know a couple things about hoofball! I could referee the game instead!”
“Why, that’s mighty generous of you, Spike,” Granny said, patting his head.
“Generous?” Spike scratched his chin, his eyes narrowed in contemplation. “Yeah... Rarity likes generous.” On that note, he turned tail and ran out the door, waving his arms as he ran towards the others.
“Be careful out there!” Twilight called out after him. “Don’t get trampled!”
“Dragon skin!” Spike called back.
Granny suddenly exhaled, stretching her creaking body. “Oooh, I’m beat,” she said. “I think I really oughta lie down for a spell. Care to join me in the living room, Twilight?”
“In a minute, Granny. How about I take the trash out while you get comfortable?”
“Sounds fine by me! Just don’t go slippin’ on anything.” Granny began to slowly hobble towards the living room, making a beeline for the rocking chair. Twilight turned to pick up the trash bags, easily lifting them with her magic, and went out the door.
Outside, she got a better look at what was now happening on the field. Spike had wasted almost no time: he had thrown on a referee uniform, and put himself in-between Applejack and Rainbow Dash. The lack of shouting meant she couldn’t hear what he said, but it seemed to be diffusing the tension between the team leaders. Rarity was also looking quite relieved, fanning herself with the sun visor.
Happy to see some semblance of order again, Twilight walked around the outside of the house, looking for the trashcans. She found them sitting at a corner of the house in the front yard, right beside a stack of logs leftover from winter. She was surprised to see Sweetie Belle sitting nearby, surrounding herself with pencils and crayons, and stacks of paper weighted down with rocks.
She lifted a lid off one of the cans, and threw the bags in before turning her attention to Rarity’s sister. “Hi, Sweetie Belle! What are you doing over here?”
“Oh, hi Twilight!” Sweetie Belle absently waved her hoof in Twilight’s direction, not looking up from a paper she was doodling on. “Yeah, since I couldn’t play, I thought I should work on some Cutie Mark Crusader stuff. All the yelling was distracting me, so I moved over here! It’s so much quieter now.”
“You have Spike to thank for that.” Twilight stood by, watching Sweetie Belle draw something involving lots of trees and backpacks.
Sweetie Belle suddenly stopped drawing, and spat out the crayon. “Hey, I was wondering...”
“Yes?”
“Well... is it okay if you try to cut something for me?”
Twilight was momentarily taken back, but smiled. “Sweetie, I’m sure Rarity was just exaggerating earlier about the scissors.”
“No, not with scissors or anything! I mean your horn,” she said, pointing at it.
“My... horn?” Twilight rubbed the tip of it. The tip was somewhat blunt, and would barely manage to puncture anything, much less cut.
“Yeah!” Sweetie Belle said, nodding eagerly. “You know, like Mort did!”
“Oooh,” Twilight said, suddenly understanding her. “You want another demonstration?”
“Uh huh! I know Rarity said she didn’t want me to, but I have to try everything I can to find my cutie mark. For all I know, my special talent could be being a hero or a knight! And a magic sword would be so much cooler than a regular sword!”
“Hmm, I don’t know, Sweetie,” Twilight said doubtfully. “Magical blades are really advanced when you get down to it. You need to be able to master many other aspects of magic, and by the time you’re ready to even attempt to make one, you’ll probably be much older and have a cutie mark already.”
“Then show me what I need to learn!” Sweetie Belle begged. “Come on, Twilight! For all we know, I’ll still not have a cutie mark years from now, and all because you never bothered to teach me how to follow my true calling!”
Twilight looked at Sweetie Belle skeptically. Rarity’s penchant for drama was rubbing off on her little sister, and it might not be best to encourage it by deferring to her. Plus it’d be going against Rarity’s wishes.
At the same time, the most innocent of observations could mean a world of difference for a pony. After all, where would Applejack be if she hadn’t looked out that Manehatten window all those years ago, and seen the sonic rainboom that lead her home? Maybe a little demonstration could inspire Sweetie Belle to study harder in magic, or satiate her curiosity now so she could focus on other things later. It wasn’t like she was going to run around slicing everything.
Twilight sighed, and then said, “Well, you convinced me, Sweetie, but if Rarity asks, I never did this, okay?”
Sweetie Belle nodded, making a zipping motion on her lips.
“Okay, so let’s see...” Twilight looked to the log stack beside them, picking off one of the smaller offering on top. Most likely it had been a thick tree branch. “How about this?”
“Aww, can’t you pick something bigger?”
“Like what?”
“LIke the ones on the bottom!” Sweetie Belle pointed to the bottom row of logs. Twilight glanced at them and gaped. Some of the bottom logs were huge, and even bigger than the filly beside her.
“Those are awful big,” Twilight said uncertainly, putting the branch back. “If it’s just a demonstration, then size shouldn’t matter, should it?”
“Come on, Twilight! Please?” Sweetie Belle put her hooves together in a pleading fashion. “I bet it’s only harder than it looks! They’re about the same size that Mort cut, and he did okay!”
“Really?” Twilight couldn’t hide the disbelief in her voice. She assumed the CMC had been exaggerating about the size earlier at the table, but Sweetie Belle seemed quite certain. Twilight bit her lip, imagining what it would mean to cut something that big. “Well...”
“Please?” Sweetie Belle pleaded again, her eyes big and wavery. “You won’t know until you try, right?”
Twilight sighed. She just didn’t have it in her to resist an expression that adorable. “Okay, Sweetie,” she said, smiling at her, “let’s see what we can do.”
At the far end of the pile, there was one log that didn’t have anything stacked on top of it, and looked to be safe enough to move without disturbing everything else. She levitated it over, and sat it down in front of her.
“Now, to make the blade,” Twilight started, “you have to be able to gather your magic at a singular point. It’s kinda like trying to lift something, only in this case, you don’t have something solid to work on.” She licked her dry lips, and began to concentrate. Her horn glowed as magic accumulated in air just above her head, gathering until it formed a small, irregular ball. “This part can be a little difficult, because like everything else, magic doesn’t want to stay still. You got that?”
Sweetie Belle nodded, her eyes glued to the demonstration.
“Alright, after you have your magic gathered, the next step is to visualize. You want to mold this into a more solid shape.” As she spoke, Twilight envisioned a rectangular cube, and gradually the magical energy became more compact and elongated. Twilight could hear an ooo coming from Sweetie Belle. “This is tricky for the same reason: magic doesn’t want to stay still. The more shape you want to give it, the less freedom it will have, and the more it will resist you. The same happens when you try to make it harder.” She closed her eyes, envisioning another shape—long, thin, sharp—and the blade began to form, looking similar to the swords Twilight had seen in the castle, minus the dust and hints of rust.
Sweetie Belle circled the blade from a distance, examining. “Cool! It looks bigger than Morts!”
“Yeah... only in this case, bigger may not actually be better.” Turning it longways, she saw it was still a little thicker than the swords she had seen, and not nearly as thin as the blade Mort produced. She couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. “If you’re purpose is to cut something, you want the edge to be as thin as possible. However, do you remember what I’ve said about magic?”
Sweetie Belle scratched her head, looking deep in thought. “Uh... it doesn’t want to stay still?”
“Exactly. If you make something thin, but not solid, the magic will just glide over whatever you’re swinging at. If you make it solid, but not thin, it’s more like a hammer than a blade. Doing both will give you a sharp edge, but it’s also forcing the magic to stay in one, relative position. The smaller its freedom, the greater its resistance. The greater the resistance, the...” Twilight paused, feeling dizzy for a moment. “The harder it is to maintain reliably.”
“Are you okay?” Sweetie Belle asked, concerned.
“I’m fine. Sorry, it’s just been a while since I did anything like this.” When Twilight felt that the edge was as sharp as it was going to get, she made one last “push”, and solidified the magical blade. It glowed brightly for a moment, and then dimmed, revealing a relatively thick blade that was partially transparent and colored raspberry.
“Now for the moment of truth!” Twilight motioned for Sweetie Belle to stand further away, not wanting any accidents. Once Twilight felt she was safe enough, she lifted the blade over her head, shut her eyes to avoid any flying splinters, and swung the weapon down with all her might.
When Twilight opened her eyes again, she saw most of the blade was still sticking out of the log. She pulled it free, and examined the cut. She estimated she had barely cut an inch into the wood. Frowning, she swung again, but the cut did not get much deeper.
After a few more swings, she pulled the blade up to her face, and looked at the edge. Some spots were already looking chipped along the length of it. She sighed, and showed it to Sweetie Belle, who had yet to look away once. “Well, as you can see, magical blades unfortunately share another trait with real blades: with enough use, they end up chipping.”
“Can’t you fix it?”
“I can, but it’s not as simple as fixing, say, a barrier. To fix this, you would need to not just fix the cracks, but also sharpen the areas you replace. It’s possible, of course, but imagine doing that constantly over a period of time. You’d get exhausted.
“I am going to change it, though, because something like this is ill-suited for wood.” She stuck her tongue out as she focused on the blade’s edge again, making it serrated. Then she started to draw the blade back and forth like a saw, and gradually began to cut deeper into the log. Every few swings, she could feel some of the teeth disappear, and had to concentrate to reform them. She began to move it faster and faster, and soon felt sweat beginning to form on her forehead. The saw was light, but the edge wasn’t as sharp as its steel equivalent, making the job harder.
Twilight sighed in relief as the resistance suddenly disappeared, and the log finally split in two. The magical saw vanished instantly, and Twilight stood tall proudly, ignoring the small headache she now had. “And that’s how it’s done,” she breathed, presenting the log.
Sweetie Belle stepped forward to look closely at the wood. Twilight peeked as well, and her inner perfectionist was pained to see that the cut was uneven, and the surface as rough as sandpaper. Still, it’s not like she was supposed to be a carpenter or anything.
“Wow,” Sweetie Belle said, “that looked kinda... hard.”
Twilight swallowed a gulp of air. “Yes,” she breathed, wiping away some sweat. “This is why unicorns still use tools for most things. It’s a lot easier to move a saw than to make one yourself. Practice can make it easier, of course, but ultimately the magical and physical toll is just not worth it. Actual blades are just more reliable, and they don’t dissapear when you get too tired.”
“Mort made it look so easy, though,” Sweetie Belle said, rolling a log piece back and forth. “He was all—chop, chop!—and he was done.”
Twilight cocked her eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yeah, it was like the pie earlier! Up, down, cut!” Sweetie Belle demonstrated by moving her forehoof up and down, before swinging both her forelegs horizontally.
“But wasn’t he tired afterwards?”
“Hmm... nope! He still seemed pretty normal,” Sweetie Belle said cheerfully.
Twilight rubbed the base of her horn, where most of her current headache was centered. She couldn’t imagine doing such a cut so quickly, much less to an entire tree. Then again, if it were like the blade he used on the pie, with an edge nearly invisible to the naked eye, it might be possible.
Most unicorns could do basic spells, but excelled at one, specific sort of magic. If a unicorn’s talent was to create fire, he or she could best other unicorns at it, even if they were more magically adept overall. While she’d seen magical blades before, she’d never seen one quite like Mort’s. While most were solidly made and floated around the caster, his seemed to flow straight out his horn, and almost looked to be in constant flux. It had to be his special talent, whether he was naturally capable of the spell, or if he simply had an affinity for cutting that he applied to his magic.
Except... why was a unicorn with a talent like that a collector? There were plenty of things that required precise cutting: carpentry, masonry, metalwork, surgery...
A pony’s talent didn’t always dictate their profession, of course, but most of the time it was at least related in some way. Rarity’s talent was finding jewels, and she used those jewels to enhance the spectacle of her dresses. So how would cutting enhance Mort’s job of running around and collecting artifacts?
She found herself thinking of Rainbow Dash’s insistence that Mort was a spy. It disturbed Twilight how well it could fit, but there was no way Luna would have those kind of ponies working for her... right? At least, not without Celestia knowing, which would make it all moot, because Celestia would never allow it... right?
“So,” Twilight said, “what did you think? Was it educational enough?”
“I guess,” Sweetie Belle said glumly, kicking at the dirt. “I didn’t think it’d be so complicated, though! Are magic swords and stuff any better than the real thing?”
“If by ‘real’ you mean metal, than... well, not really,” Twilight said, shrugging. “Theoretically they can be sharper, but never so much as to make traditional blades obsolete. Besides, things are so peaceful these days we hardly have a use for swords anyway. The ones we do have are either locked up in storage rooms, or are simply decorative. As for everything else, like farming or carpentry, what we have now is more than enough.”
Sweetie Belle sighed despondently. “Well, so much for that idea.”
“Aww, don’t be like that,” Twilight said, rubbing her head. “You don’t need magic swords, or even regular swords, to be a hero. Just look at your sister! She’s helped save Equestria three times so far, and she doesn’t need a weapon for a cutie mark to do that.”
“Yeah... hey, yeah, you’re right!” Sweetie Belle exclaimed excitedly. “My sis does lots of cool things besides fashion stuff!”
“Exactly!” Twilight said. “And I think that’s something you should really keep in mind... just because something’s your talent, doesn’t mean it has to be the only thing you can do, or the only thing you’ll be good at. Applejack’s cutie mark is about her devotion to her family and farm, but she does plenty of other things, too.”
“Like rodeos and hoofball, right?”
“Right.”
Sweetie Belle nodded, the earlier gloom now completely gone. “A sword would still be cool, though.”
Twilight giggled. “Just don’t let Rarity hear that,” she said, rubbing Sweetie Belle’s head.
The whole talk made her recall what she was thinking earlier about Mort, and now she felt silly. So what if his talent and profession had nothing in common? Maybe he had a hobby he really liked, or maybe he didn’t. It didn’t matter.
She also felt a little guilty. Why did she feel so suspicious about him? It was like he couldn’t say or do anything without her putting him under a microscope. Why did she let it bother her so much? So what if one part of his story seemed off? He was probably just exaggerating for effect.
She needed to apologize to him. He would probably be confused, and maybe a little hurt, but nothing else felt right. She couldn’t do that until the game was over, though. Until then, the most she could do was watch from the sidelines, or maybe...
She looked behind Sweetie Belle, seeing the paper Sweetie Belle had been doodling on. “You know, since I’m here, how about I help you with your other ideas. What are you drawing here, for instance?”
“Plans for our next Cutie Mark Crusader project,” Sweetie Belle answered, sitting back down. She picked up an orange crayon, and drew a simple sun in one corner of the page. “We’re going to try skydiving next!”
Twilight involuntarily bit her lip. Normally a pony would roll their eyes when they heard a foal say that, assuming an overactive imagination. She knew first-hoof, however, that the CMC were far more resourceful and ambitious than most ponies even twice their age. At least with magic swords, Sweetie Belle would be lucky to emit a spark.
“And just how are you going to manage that?” she asked, wondering how she could nip the idea in the bud without disappointing Sweetie Belle too much.
“Well, we can’t really fly up to a cloud or anything, so I was thinking we could use one of the taller trees, or... ooh! We saw this really tall cliff the other day! We could probably use that! Applebloom could get some bed sheets, Scootaloo said she can get some string, and we can stitch it all together at Rarity’s!”
“Well, that sounds like quite the plan,” Twilight said, lifting the top drawing to look at. Her mind was already creating a checklist of reasons why it wouldn’t work, and hopefully stop the foals from breaking all their bones. “Although, you should probably know that when it comes to skydiving, you need to be much higher up than... huh?”
Twilight’s lecture was derailed at an unusual sight on the paper. Sweetie Belle had drawn a tall tree, and next to it a tall cliff, and above them was a doodle of a backpack, which Twilight assumed was meant to contain the parachute. What caught her eye, however, were the four faces in the top-right corner. While three of them were obviously meant to be the CMC, below them was white face with black eyes and red irises.
“Sweetie Belle, what’s this?” she asked her, pointing it out.
“Oh, that’s Mort!” Sweetie Belle said. “I was thinking he could go skydiving with us! We could ask him to help, too! He could cut out the parachutes and everything!”
She squinted as his portrait. "That's an... interesting way to draw him."
"Really?" Sweetie Belle asked, sounding confused. "Is there something wrong with it?"
"Well, it's just... nevermind, it's nothing." Twilight had already lectured on magic. She didn't need to dive into art. "I'm surprised you're even inviting him."
Sweetie Belle froze. Her eyes glanced around nervously. “Uh, why?”
“Well, it’s just I never saw you girls try to invite anypony else with you,” Twilight pointed out, noticing the peculiar behavior. “Not even Rarity or Applejack.”
“Well, they’re... you know, busy,” Sweetie Belle said, her nervousness almost palpable now. “We were thinking it’d be fun. And he’s been to a lot of places, so we think he might be able to give us some ideas, too.”
“I’m sure it’d be fun,” she said gently, “but don’t you think he’s a little old for all this?”
“He’s not too old,” Sweetie Belle shot back, sounding defiant. “You’re never too old to find a cutie mark!” Moments after the last word left her lips, Sweetie Belle gasped and covered her mouth.
Twilight stared at her oddly. “Excuse me?”
“N-nothing, forget I said anything!” Sweetie Belle went back to her drawing, scribbling frantically on a piece of paper. It was quickly apparent that she wasn’t drawing much of anything. She glanced back at Twilight, then quickly returned her attention to the “drawing” in front of her.
“Sweetie Belle, what’s wrong?” Twilight took what Sweetie Belle said and rolled it over in her head, trying to parse some meaning out of it. Why did she suddenly get so defensive, and then become so evasive? She just thought Mort was a little old for the CMC’s usual activities, not that he was too old to find...
Twilight’s jaw dropped in shock. That couldn’t be it, could it? “Sweetie Belle, are you saying Mort doesn’t have—”
“Shhhh!” Twilight shut her eyes as Sweetie Belle’s spittle found her face. When the very loud sushing ceased, she opened her eyes to see Sweetie Belle now looking at her guiltily.
Twilight lowered her body and voice, speaking in a low whisper. “Are you saying... Mort doesn’t have a cutie mark?”
Sweetie Belle stared at her silently for a few seconds, before nodding her head slowly.
“Oh my gosh,” Twilight gasped, covering her mouth. That had to be a mistake.
“We promised Mort we wouldn’t tell anypony! And I just blew it...” Sweetie Belle covered her face in shame, sounding to be on the border of tears. “Please don’t tell.”
“Are... are you sure?” Twilight asked, still not quite believing, and not wanting to misunderstand. “Did you see it, or... not see it?”
“He told us himself,” Sweetie Belle mumbled.
Twilight was speechless. Was that why he always wore that cloak? Or why he seemed so nervous around so many of them? Was he afraid somepony would find out? Most ponies found it silly to worry about cutie marks, because many of them had gone through that phase as foals themselves, only to find they had nothing to worry about after all. Cutie marks were just a given, plain and simple.
She had never heard of an adult pony without a cutie mark, though. How would other ponies react to that? She knew there were some adults who scoffed at foals who didn't have their cutie marks yet, and who knew how they'd treat another adult in the same boat. It was just so bizarre and...
She felt a stab of shame when she realized she was doing it too. No wonder he kept himself covered up.
Sweetie Belle was still looking at her pleadingly, waiting for an answer. Smiling as reassuringly as possible, she said, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anypony, okay? Still, I wonder why he doesn’t have one yet...”
“It’s not his fault,” Sweetie Belle said quickly. “He doesn’t have a cutie mark because he can’t get cutie mark!”
“What?”
“It’s a medical condition! It keeps him from getting a cutie mark,” Sweetie Belle exclaimed, almost desperately.
“A condition?” Twilight was sympathetic, but some skepticism leaked into her voice. “Sweetie, I’ve never heard of something like that.”
“Me neither,” the foal said, showing Twilight the pictures she had been working on. “But what if the doctors are wrong? What if he just needs to find the right thing to do and get his cutie mark? He needs it a lot more than we do right now! That’s why we wanted him to come with us.” Sweetie Belle bowed her head sadly, her curls covering her eyes. "We just wanted to help."
Twilight wracked her brain, drawing on whatever medical knowledge she had gleaned over the years. A disorder that keeps a pony from getting a cutie mark was serious. She thought she would’ve heard of it by now.
“Can you keep this a secret, Twilight?” Sweetie Belle pled. “I don’t want everypony getting mad at me for breaking a promise. And I don’t want everypony treating Mort differently either.”
After a moments hesitation, Twilight said, “Your secret’s safe with me, Sweetie.” She tapped her chin, pondering what she’d been told. “Maybe I could look this ‘condition’ up at the library, see if there’s anything I can do.”
The unicorn filly gasped in delight. “Really?! Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” Sweetie Belle rushed forward and wrapped her forelegs around Twilight’s neck, squeezing with all her foalish might.
Twilight patted her on the back, and gently dislodged herself from Sweetie Belle. “I’m going to go back inside and check on Granny, okay? You just keep... doing what you’re doing. For Mort’s sake.” She looked at the skydiving paper, and added, “Um, let me get back to you on this, though.”
“Okay!” Sounding relieved, Sweetie Belle did a little salute and went back to her drawings, drawing whatever popped into her head.
Twilight looked down at the skydiving paper, her eyes drawn again to the four faces in the corner. The CMC’s faces were all circular, with scribbles on top of the heads to represent their manes. Mort’s face had black scribbles all around him, probably to represent the cloak. It was no wonder Twilight couldn’t recognize him. The way Sweetie Belle drew him, it almost looked like a...
Skull mask.
Twilight felt a sudden chill crawl up her spine as Derpy’s words echoed in her head. She levitated the drawing upward, unable to shake the unease she felt from seeing “Mort’s” face. The longer she looked at it, the more disturbed she felt. She glanced at Sweetie Belle, and seeing that the filly’s attention was elsewhere, she dropped the paper into the nearby trash can. She only felt a little better.
Going back inside the house, Twilight saw that Granny had just reached the rocking chair. A content sigh rose from her as she settled in, the chair tilting back and floorboards creaking beneath her.
“Ahh, my favorite sound in the world,” she said, resting her head back. “What took ya so long, dear? Bag rip or somethin’?”
“Oh, nothing like that.” Twilight sat down on a sofa across from her, finding herself eager to talk about something else. “I hope we didn’t impose on you too much. I know this must’ve been sudden.”
“Fiddlesticks, girl! It’s never too early to prepare somethin’ nice for friends and family,” Granny said, dismissively waving a hoof. “An’ I have to say, my granddaughter has a knack for makin’ the most interestin’ friends. That Mort feller’s somethin’ else, ain’t he?”
Twilight sighed. “That’s one way to put it.”
Granny looked at her curiously, an eyebrow raised. “Somethin’ wrong?”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Twilight said quickly. “Kinda silly, really...”
“It may be silly, but if it’s eatin’ at ya I ain’t sure if it’s ‘nothing,’” Granny said, sitting up. “Come on, you can tell ol’ Granny, can’t ya?”
Twilight looked away, uncertain. Only one pony was on her mind, and the longer this day went on, the more she wanted to talk about him to somepony else. Especially after what Sweetie Belle had just told her. It seemed like she was always learning something knew, and at the same time knowing even less as a result. Still, she couldn’t want to say too much, too soon. Nor did she want to jump to any conclusions.
“Well, it’s just... I guess I’m getting a little frustrated,” she said guiltily. “With him, I mean.”
“Why? He doin’ somethin’ that’s buggin’ ya?”
“More like he’s not doing something. Granny, what can you tell me about Mort?”
“Hmm...” Granny’s eyes rolled upward as she tapped her chin. “Well, he seems to be an alright young stallion, though I get the feelin’ he’s on edge fer some reason. Maybe he’s just nervous around others, though from what I’ve gathered, yer gonna help him with that.”
“Absolutely, but what do you know about him personally?”
“Well, he runs around a lot to pick up rare stuff and deliver it someplace, and he’s been to a lot of places.”
“Okay, but what about his family? Where he grew up? His interests outside of work?”
Granny looked at her blankly, then cleared her throat, clearly embarrassed. “Heh, I’m sorry, dear, I must’ve dozed off when he mention that.”
Twilight shook her head. “You didn’t. Fact is, whenever Mort’s talking about himself, it’s always related to his work. Doesn’t that seem odd? I feel like he’s trying to hide everything about himself.” Well, he was definitely hiding his lack of a cutie mark, but would it require hiding everything else, too?
Granny shrugged. “I don’t rightfully know, dear. Maybe his past is just painful for him to talk about?”
“I guess that’s possible, but...” Maybe she was going about this the wrong way. Maybe, for now, she just had to play dumb, as much as it pained her. “Ever since Mort got here, I’ve had this feeling that I’m missing something obvious about him. As if it’s right in front of my face. I tried to forget about it, but I don’t think I can ignore it anymore.”
“Well, if you feel that strongly, why don’t you talk to him about it?”
“Because I don’t want to stir up anything if I can help it. The letter I got made it sound like Mort could be recalled at any time.” She frowned, shaking her head sadly. “I don’t want to sour his stay here anymore than it’s already been, especially if I’m wrong about everything. And I don’t want to make any of my friends suspicious of him, either.”
“Good points,” Granny said, nodding. “Way I see it, so long as he ain’t hurtin’ nopony, you shouldn’t think so much about how much—or how little—he’s actually sayin’. In which case, it’d best just to forget ‘bout it. ‘Course, there’s also a chance he’s beatin’ himself up over some silly thing, which might be why he ain’t so keen on sharing too much personal information. If that’s the thing that’s makin’ him so antsy around y’all, it could do him good to know he don’t have to worry ‘bout it too much.”
Twilight stared at her. “So, wait. You’re saying I shouldn’t bring it up... and that I should bring it up?”
“Oh, I ain’t tellin’ you to do squat,” Granny said. “I’m simply sayin’ that both options have their ups and downs. It’s up to you which one to go with.”
“But... Granny, I appreciate your advice, but you’re basically saying that anyway I go, I could either make things better or worse!”
Granny looked at her sympathetically. “I’m sorry, dear. Like my hubby used to say, ya don' know what ya stepped in until after the fact.”
Twilight scrunched up her nose in disgust. “Well, that’s a colorful way to put it.”
Granny chortled. “Yep, Baldwin always was one to say things as plainly as possible.”
Twilight’s ear flicked up, catching the name. “Baldwin?”
“Hm hmm, he was my late husband, Celestia rest his soul. I got a picture of him on the fireplace, if ya want to see.”
“Sure.” Twilight got off the sofa and walked towards the fireplace, her eyes drawn to the pictures. “It’s funny, when Mort got here he said...”
Twilight trailed off as her eyes caught one of the photos. It was an aged, black-and-white photo, sitting inside a copper frame. Two ponies were in the foreground: one was a mare dressed in Victorian-style clothing, and the other was a stallion dressed in a suit. What struck her about the stallion was that his suit had obviously been burned by something, and his face was streaked with soot.
The stallion was kneeling down, one hoof resting on the rim of a top hat, and the other holding out a tiny box that displayed a ring. The mare across from him was frozen in mid-gasp, and Twilight could just make out some tear stains. Behind them were a crowd of ponies, some of them wearing very distinct fire helmets.
Twilight couldn’t take her eyes off the picture. Her mouth felt dry. “That’s...”
“My great-great grandparents!” Granny said proudly, looking reverently at the picture. “That picture’s got quite the story behind it! Want to hear it?”
Twilight nodded numbly. It just wasn’t possible, but... “Did it involve a fire?”
“Saw the firefighters, did ya? Yer right, it was a big ol’ blaze that was the talk of the town for days and days, they say! Sweet Orchid—that’s the mare, you see—was supposed to be meetin’ with her coltfriend, Apple Seed—that’s the fellow kneelin’ on the right—because he had somethin’ very important to tell her. But before she got there, some kind of fire broke out in the back of the restaurant, and it sent everpony runnin’ out in a panic! But when Apple Seed got out, he realized he forgot somethin’.”
“The ring,” Twilight intoned.
“Ain’t it always? When he realized what had happened, he rushed back inside to look for it, dodgin’ burnin’ timbers and everything! He finally found it, then rushed towards the door, but he dropped his hat on the way. He done a fool thing and actually reached down to pick it up, but then the dangdest thing happened!”
“An explosion.”
Granny was taken aback briefly. “Er, well, yes! The fire must’ve licked somethin’, because the next thing anypony knows, the whole place practically goes up in a big ol’ fireball! Whoosh!” Granny Smith spread her forelegs out theatrically, precariously balancing on the legs of her rocking chair. “Apple Seed would’ve been a goner, but when he went to get his hat, the table next to him took most of the blast! If he hadn’t done that, he would’ve been a crispy critter, and you might not even be talkin’ to me today!”
When Twilight didn’t say anything, Granny continued and said, “Well, when he got out of that restaurant, with his mane charred and suit ruined, do you know what he did? He ran straight up to Sweet Orchid and proposed to her on the spot! That photo you see on the mantle was the front page news in Manehatten the very next day! ‘Course, back then the city was called—”
“Amsterdame,” Twilight finished quietly.
Granny Smith stared at her. “Well, it sounds like you already heard this story,” she said, with mock grumpiness.
“I think I did,” Twilight said, a feeling of unease settling over her. “That fire... it must’ve been years ago.”
“Over a century, more like!” Granny said. “It’s because of those two meetin’ that there’s even an Apple family now! We even named our farm after them... Sweet Apple Acres, see?”
“I... see...”
Granny leaned forward, concerned. “You okay, honey? You don’ look too good. Somethin’ you ate?”
“I-I’m fine, Granny,” she said, walking towards the door outside. “I just need some air, and time to think...”
“If you say so,” Granny said, not sounding entirely convinced. “Why don’t you see how that game’s goin’ outside? Make sure Mort’s doin’ alright.”
“Yeah,” she said, opening the door, “I’m definitely going to need to talk to him.”
Twilight walked out of the house, her mind a jumble of conflicting thoughts and feelings. Holding a coherent thought was like holding a hooffull of eels. She was so distracted, she didn’t hear the joyous cheer from the field, and was just barely able to notice the small herd of ponies walking towards her.
“Good game, everypony!” Applejack yelled, spinning the hoofball on her forehoof. “Especially you, Mort! Nice dash in the end.”
“O-oh, it was nothing!” Mort’s stutter was not from nervousness this time, but from excitement. He was practically skipping. “That was some of the most fun I’ve had in ages!”
“Yeah, yeah, good game...” Rainbow Dash trotted up beside Mort, at first directing a sour look at the abashed pony, before smiling and lightly punching his shoulder. “Good job out there, dude. I should’ve had you on my team. You’re way slipperier than you look! I could’ve sworn I had you.”
“That’s probably the first time anypony ever avoided being tackled by Rainbow,” Pinkie Pie said, trotting beside him. “You’re breaking all sorts of records today, aren’t you, Morty?”
“Uh, yeah. What can I say? I guess I got talent!” He laughed, though there was a nervous twinge to it.
Rainbow Dash broke away and joined the others trailing in the back. “How’s Fluttershy, Rarity?”
“I think she’ll be fine,” Rarity said, wiping a wet rag over Fluttershy’s face. The yellow pegasus was draped over Big Mac’s back, looking faint.
“I-Is the game over?” Fluttershy asked dazedly. “What happened?”
“Yeah, it’s over,” Spike said, massaging her back. “You froze up when Apple Bloom was running at you.”
Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “Okay, I can understand being afraid of Big Mac, or Applejack, or maybe even Mort, but Apple Bloom? Seriously?”
“Y-you weren’t there,” Fluttershy despaired. “She had her game face on!”
“Grr!” Fluttershy squeaked and covered her eyes as Apple Bloom suddenly darted out from underneath Big Mac, her teeth barred. Everypony burst into laughter at the sight, and a moment later even Fluttershy joined in.
Twilight brushed aside all her current misgivings, and forced a smile to her face. “Hey, everypony. How did the game go?”
“We won! We won!” Apple Bloom was hopping up and down, kicking her legs out in excitement. Beside her, Scootaloo sulked, her wings and ears drooping low. It would’ve remained that way had it not been for Rainbow Dash, who patted her on the back. The affectionate gesture was enough to lift the orange filly’s spirits, who nuzzled into her idol’s forehoof.
“I’m glad to see you all had a good time,” she said, her eyes immediately drawn to Mort. The cloaked pony was checking on Fluttershy, helping her get off Big Mac’s back. “Hey, Mort!”
He turned to look at her, and once again Twilight found herself thinking back to Sweetie Belle’s drawing. She had barely suppressed a shudder when she asked, “Since you’ve worked out your body, maybe we should work out your brain next?”
He trotted towards her, the medallion around his neck glinting in the sun. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I don’t know about you,” she said, injecting pep into her voice, “but I find that curling up with a good book is an excellent way to relax. Oh, and now that I mentioned it, we were talking about some magic lessons earlier! You know, kill two birds...”
“What?!” The reaction came from Fluttershy, who was staring at her in wide-eyed horror.
“I-It’s a figure of speech!” Twilight said quickly. “An expression! Just means we accomplish two things at once!”
Fluttershy breathed a sigh of relief. “What awful way to say it,” she said, her hair still standing up. “Why would a pony want to kill birds, anyway? We don’t eat them or anything.”
Mort tapped his chin. “Now that you mention it, I think it was derived from a much older, griffon saying.”
“Really?” Twilight said. “What was it?”
“Kill two ponies with one stone,” Mort said, as if lecturing. “See, they sometimes would carry these big stones with them in the air, find a group of ponies below, and... uh...”
He trailed off, perhaps noticing the sudden paleness in Fluttershy, or Twilight’s own disgusted look.
“O-of course both the saying and practice fell out of use centuries ago for very understandable, ethical reasons, and is seen as deplorable by all griffons today,” Mort shot off. “So, uh, no need to worry!” He paused, then added, “Mostly.”
“At all, you mean,” Twilight said, with false cheer. “We don’t have to worry about rocks falling from the sky at all.”
“Well, once or twice a year the occasional pegasus or griffon—”
“Fluttershy!” Twilight said suddenly, grabbing the pegasus by the shoulders. “How about you check up on Angel and the others? Make sure they’re not planning any mischief or anything!”
“Oh, uh, sure,” she said, looking about as colorful as she did when under Discord’s control. “Um, can I take Pinkie Pie with me?”
“Why?”
“Well, it’s not for her twitchy tail or anything, that’s for sure!” She giggled nervously, her eyes darting between Twilight and the sky above. “L-let’s go, Pinkie! Stay close to me, please?” There was an element of desperate pleading in her words.
“Sure!” Pinkie Pie followed Fluttershy as the pegasus cautiously trotted off, always glancing up every few steps.
“Hey, what about my airshow?” Rainbow Dash asked, sounding indignant. “I thought we were doing that next?”
“We’ll get to it, don’t worry,” Twilight said, trying to calm her, “but I figured that after that game, you and the others should try to rest up. You know, so you can be at your very best.”
Rainbow Dash rubbed her chin, thinking it over. “You know what? That’s a good point. I never want to show off at less than 120%.”
“Don’t you mean 100%?”
“Pfft, that’s for normal ponies,” Rainbow Dash boasted, nudging Mort. “Just you wait, I’m gonna blow your mind later!”
An idea formed in Twilight’s mind. “How about this, then? We’ll all meet up at your house in a few hours, and then you can show off how great you are. I can just pick up Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie before it starts.”
“Sounds good to me!” Rainbow Dash stretched in the air, popping some bones in the process. “I’ll head over, check on Tank, probably have a power nap, and then get a show ready for you guys! See ya later!” She waved at them, then rocketed into the sky, leaving a rainbow trail behind.
“Well, me and McIntosh were thinkin’ that we oughta get those logs Apple Bloom was tellin’ us about,” Applejack said, bucking the hoofball over to Winona, who then ran off with it. “You can never have too much firewood!”
“Ooh, and I could come with you, Twilight!” Rarity said, sauntering over. “If you’re going to teach Mort magic, having two unicorns could certainly—”
“No!”
Rarity and Mort stared at Twilight, shocked by the sudden outburst.
Twilight gulped. She just couldn’t have Rarity with her. Not with what she had planned. “I-I mean, it’s generally more effective if there’s only one teacher,” she said. “You know, ‘too many cooks’ and all that.”
“Well, I don’t have to teach,” Rarity said. “I could just watch and offer some encouragement.”
Twilight sighed, then motioned for Rarity to come closer. Bemused, the fashionista complied, and the two move further away from the others.
“Rarity, I’m sorry,” Twilight whispered, “but I really need some one-on-one time with Mort.”
“Oh, but whatever for?” she asked. “I just want to help the dear out, and assure him there’s no ill feelings between us after... earlier.”
“I know, but this is very important, okay?” Twilight put both her forehooves on Rarity’s shoulders, staring straight at Rarity. “I can’t have anypony else around. Not even Spike.”
Rarity stared at her a few moments, her eyes analyzing her. Slowly, a mischievous grin grew. “Oh, I understand now.”
Twilight blinked in surprise. She didn’t like that look. “You do?”
“Oh, it’s obvious!” she said, almost gleeful. “Two unicorns, both who felt like outcasts, both who needed help making friends, both with surprising magical talents...” Rarity trailed off, arching an eyebrow knowingly.
“Rarity, I never felt like...” Her friend’s words began to sink in, and Twilight realized with a start what Rarity was getting at. “Oh, no, Rarity, it’s nothing like—”
“Oh, don’t worry, dear! My lips are sealed.” She ran the tip of her hoof across her lips. “I’ll just take Spike off your hooves and give you two some alone time.” She winked suggestively at her.
Twilight facehooved, but before she could protest further, Rarity was already trotting away, calling for Spike. The white unicorn looked back at her one more time, and winked. Twilight rolled her eyes in response.
Mort walked up to her, his head bowed. “Um, listen, I’m really sorry about what I said. I just tend to say stuff like that without thinking much—”
“Forget it, Mort. I know you didn’t mean it, but... you really need to be more careful with stories like that. Especially with Fluttershy in the audience. Just...” She sighed, pinching between her eyes. “Just go on ahead to the library. I’ll be right with you.” She pointed towards the entrance of Sweet Apple Acres, gesturing with her head. After a moments hesitation, Mort nodded and headed towards it, looking back at her a couple times. It was only after she gave him a reassuring smile that he stopped.
The action reminded her that Mort was still just somepony trying to fit in. The letter had said he hardly had any time for others, and situations like this only illustrated that fact. She felt a little guilty about her reaction, but he really should’ve known what sort of effect that story would have had on Fluttershy.
It occurred to Twilight a lot of the stories Mort told always had some element of peril. Fires, bulls, natural disasters, crazy accidents... now that she thought about it, it stuck out that ponies could have died in a lot of those stories, or came very close to it.
Just as she was getting ready to follow Mort, she spotted Applejack near the entrance of the barn, helping her brother pull out a large wagon. Once outside, Applejack jumped into the back of the wagon, and began to throw out all manners of tools and, for lack of a better word, junk. No doubt she was making room for the wood that Mort had cut.
Twilight was reminded that there was one more thing she had to check out before she left. She ran over to the cowpony, skidding to a stop beside the wagon. “Applejack, I have to ask you something.”
“Ah’m all ears, sugarcube,” she replied, tossing a spade behind the wagon. “How can Ah help?”
“How much do you know about your grandfather? Baldwin, I mean?”
“Well, not an awful lot,” she admitted, dropping a pitchfork on the ground, “but I hear a lot of stories from Granny. He was a really fun guy, from what Ah was told.”
“What happened at Las Pegasus, then?” she asked. “Granny was going to tell us, but it seemed like you were stopping her.”
Applejack stopped what she was doing. She walked over to the side of the wagon, and rested her forelegs on the railings. “Well, we were all havin’ a good time, an’ I was afraid of bringin’ the mood down.”
“Why? Did something happen between them?”
“Nah, everythin’ was fine between them,” Applejack said, shrugging. “Granny says they had a rip-roarin’ good time, actually. They gambled a little, saw some celebrities, watched a couple shows, and went to bed after samplin’ a lot of the fancy wine they were servin’. It’s just that...”
Applejack’s hesitation filled Twilight with a sudden feeling of apprehension. She found her mind wandering to earlier musings about Mort’s own stories, and theme they all seemed to share. “Just what?”
Applejack sighed. “Well, the next mornin’, Granny was the only one that woke up.”
When the two of them were back in town, Mort couldn’t avoid all the stares directed his way. Ponies pointed, giggled, and gossiped to their fellow townsfolk beside them. A few did try to wave at him, and some even asked if everything was okay. He’d give curt answers, but Twilight seemed intent on ignoring them. Her only concern seemed to be getting to the library as quickly as possible.
While Mort felt a little embarrassed being back in town, it didn’t feel nearly as bad as he thought it would. It might have helped that he was still coming down from the high he felt at the farm. Mort had played games with Luna before, and had even won sometimes, but those times never felt as good as it did at Pinkie’s party, or on the makeshift hoofball field. He had never experienced so many ponies being so happy because of something he did. Most of the time they were understandably gloomy.
Rainbow Dash, though, was half-right: she really did have him, he believed, but with him being so close to the goal line, and an entire team depending on him, he could have panicked and possibly... may have... kinda-sorta... accidentally... made his rear legs intangible, giving Rainbow Dash nothing to grab when she dove at him.
It might have technically been... okay, it was definitely cheating, but by the time he realized what happened, he had already reached the goal and won the game. It wasn’t like he could tell them what happened, but if he could... actually, he wasn’t sure if he would. Nevermind the shame of cheating, he would hate to have to disappoint the Apple siblings by losing. It was fine if only he lost, like in the board games with Luna, but bringing down everypony else, too?
It occurred to him that he was just now wrestling with the dilemma of staying silent or telling the truth about a harmless game. Most ponies probably experienced something like this as early as foalhood, but him? When he was young, he was busy learning how to tell a pony that their mortal body was being digested by the nearby dragon. He felt so behind...
It also occurred to him that he and Twilight had barely said a word to each other since they left. It made him fear that she was still upset about the impromptu history lesson he gave Fluttershy. Should he apologize again, or try to start a conversation about something else?
“Um, you really missed quite the game,” he said, trying to sound casual. “You know, the first goal Applejack scored was something else. She—”
“Can it wait, Mort? The library’s just around the corner,” Twilight said, keeping her eyes forward. “We can settle in when we get there, and—hey!”
“What is it?” When Twilight suddenly took off, Mort raced after her, wondering what she’d seen to get her so worked up.
When he saw Twilight standing in front of the library’s sign, he slowed to a stop, a feeling of dread growing inside him. “W-what’s wrong?” he asked innocently.
“Look at this!” She turned towards him and gestured at the sign. Mort saw that the library sign was, unsurprisingly, in the same shape he had left it: covered in large cracks, with a hole in the center that was hastily sealed. Mort was an expert when it came to cutting, but his knowledge on putting things together was sorely lacking.
“That... looks bad,” he stiffly said.
“I can’t believe anypony would do this!” Twilight brushed her hoof across the woodwork, and pulled back when part of it broke off. “This has to be a felony. When I find the pony who did this...”
Mort gulped. “W-well, I’m sure we could run and get a carpenter.”
She sighed deeply, turning to the library door. “No, this is going to have to wait. We’ve got more important things to worry about.”
“Really, Twilight, I don’t mind. Teaching me magic is not that big a deal.”
Twilight stopped in the doorway, and looked back at Mort. Her expression was neutral, but Mort could detect the strained muscles in her face, indicating it was forced.
“This is a big deal,” she stated distantly, and continued inside. Confused and worried, Mort followed behind her, the door shutting behind him.
Twilight was already halfway up the stairs. “Just take a seat anywhere,” she called down. “I need to get some books. It’ll only be a minute.”
“Okay...?” When nothing else was heard, Mort shuffled over to the table in the center. He sat down next to it, staring at the wooden expression of the pony bust in the center.
Something had changed when he wasn’t looking. Ever since lunch, Twilight had been acting very differently. She had hardly spoken to him, and was giving him odd looks when she thought he wasn’t looking. Now she had insisted on seeing him alone.
Maybe it was because of what he did with his scythe? Twilight was a magic prodigy. Maybe she’d seen something that the others couldn’t. Or maybe she was going to have him show her how he did it. She did have an obsession in understanding how the world worked.
That’s probably it. She said so herself that most ponies couldn’t manage a magical blade, and seeing his must’ve made her extremely curious. Or she really was mortified that he couldn’t perform many spells, and wanted to fix that.
Yes, that’s probably all it was. He just needed to be patient and wait for her. He could wait for months before seeing Celestia or Luna; he could wait a couple minutes for Twilight.
His thoughts returned to the Apple farm. He didn’t expect things to turn out so well. Especially after he remembered that he’d been in that farmhouse before. Once he saw inside their home, he knew who the parents were, and what had happened to them. He even recalled that the two were not as worried as he thought they’d be, telling him that they were confident their children would pull through. He was happy to see that they had been right.
He felt pretty sorry for Winona. While most animals lacked the complex emotions of other, sentient species, Mort still had an idea of what was going through Winona’s head when he petted her. The dog had thought she was protecting her family, but was utterly confused and fearful of the fact that they didn’t see Mort’s true form. What Mort felt then was a terrible, internal conflict: Winona’s devotion to Applejack was driving her to obey and behave, but that same devotion was also telling her to protect Applejack by attacking Mort. Hopefully she was now chewing on some bone and feeling content again.
Then there was Granny. While Mort was invisible to all the physical senses, he still popped up in the spiritual ones. With most ponies lacking any sort of spiritual affinity, however, it was like waving a flag at somepony from behind a solid door. Occasionally, though, some like Granny could sense Mort, even if they didn’t realize it. She knew vaguely that he had been with Baldwin; she just didn’t know that it was only after the latter’s death. Given how little he’d been material in front of ponies, it meant there could be other ponies out there who would find him familiar, even if they had never actually seen him.
The thoughts of Baldwin had reminded Mort how fun the elderly stallion had been, for the short time he knew him. One of the first things he did was to simply run up and down a flight of stairs, shouting that the construction had no hold over him anymore. Baldwin’s own father, Ambrosia, had done something similar, doing a lap around his hometown like he did when he was younger. He said it was during one of those marathons that he met his future wife, Melba, who herself passed away not long after and just wanted to see the sunrise one more time. It was the same thing their daughter did, after that accident where—
“Mort!”
“Huh, wha?” Mort’s head whipped up, and he saw Twilight staring at him. Several thick books floated beside her. “Oh, sorry. Are you ready?”
“Yeah,” she said, slightly exasperated. “I said it a few times, actually, but you weren’t responding.”
“Oh, sorry,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “I got a little lost in my memories.”
“Does that happen often?”
“Well, no,” he said. “Most of the time I can only think about the places I need to be.”
“Right,” she said. “When you say ‘places’, I suppose you mean cities like Amsterdame?”
Mort blinked, confused by the challenge in the tone. “Yes...?”
Twilight stared at him, long and hard. A frown permeated on her face. “Mort, I need you to stop lying to me.”
“W-what?!” Mort shot up from his sitting position, fear gripping him. “I’m not lying! I really do—”
“Stop,” she said, and Mort found himself complying, as if it were a command from Thanasia herself. “Mort, I don’t know what’s going on, and maybe I’m just missing something completely obvious, but I’ve heard too many things today that I simply can’t ignore.”
“I-I don’t know what you mean,” he said, trying to keep the stutter out of his voice. “If this is about my cloak, I’m sorry, but—”
“It’s not,” she said, laying the books and newspaper on the table. “If it was only your cloak, I’d have no problem. Maybe you really do have a skin condition, or maybe you’re that self-conscious about your appearance. It wouldn’t matter to me either way. At worst it’d just be a quirk, and a harmless one at that.”
“Then what?” he asked, his voice pleading. “What’s wrong?”
“Well, for starters,” she said, picking up one of the books, “there’s the matter of your story from Sugarcube Corner. Remember? About the couple and the fire? You said back then they called the city Amsterdame.”
“They did! I wasn’t...” Mort trailed off, the pieces falling into place. “O-okay, now it isn’t Amsterdame, because they changed it to—”
“Manehatten. I know, you said so yourself, too.” Twilight flipped through one of the books, and Mort felt his heart sink when he saw the title: Manehatten: A Physical History. “But Mort, here’s the thing: they changed their name to Manehatten over a hundred years ago! Yet you were there before that?”
“A-alright, maybe not,” he said, trying to formulate some way to salvage this. “I was desperate, okay? I just wanted something to say at the party, so I told some story I read about.”
“Where?”
“I-I don’t know! A book!”
“I doubt that,” she said, closing the book. “When I was up there, I was looking through all the books I had on Manehatten, as well as any books on disasters in the last two hundred years. I never saw any mention of that fire, and not to be cynical, but that might be because no pony died from it.”
“Alright, fine, you got me! I made it up!” He covered his face, reduced to saying the first thing that came to his mind. He never imagined his stories would be challenged like this, and had no plan to back them up if they were. “I made it all up! I just wanted to tell something romantic, okay? I’m sorry!”
Twilight paused, narrowing her eyes at him. “Except you didn’t make it up.”
Mort gaped at her. “But, you just... I...”
“Did you ever get a good look at the photos inside Applejack’s home, Mort?”
Mort almost got whiplash from the sudden change in topic. “W-what? Why?”
“Because one of them was very interesting,” she said, stepping closer to him. “It was a photo of two ponies—a mare and a stallion—who happened to be Granny Smith’s great-great grandparents. Their names were Sweet Orchid and Apple Seed. Do those names ring any bells?”
Mort clamped his jaw shut, thinking. He was sure he knew the names, especially since he must’ve reaped them at some point already. He just didn’t see what connection they had to...
No. It couldn’t be, but...
“They should,” she continued, “because they were the ponies in your story! The photo was even taken moments after Apple Seed escaped! And the story Granny told me was almost word-for-word what you said! So not only did you relate a story from over a hundred years ago, it was a story that evidently no pony ever jotted down in any book!”
“I... I must have...”
“No, Mort,” she said sternly. “You already said you read it up somewhere, then you said you made it up out of the blue. Just... please.” Twilight sighed, a hint of sadness in her tone. “Please don’t say anything else. I don’t know what to think anymore, and what’s worse is that I’m not even done yet.”
Mort became silent. He found himself devoting more and more effort to keeping himself material, and not vanish completely.
“When you were playing with the others, I came across Sweetie Belle. She let it slip that you didn’t have a cutie mark. I thought that was unusual, but not impossible. It wasn’t until she told me that it was because of a ‘condition’ that I knew something was up. I studied cutie marks a lot when I was under Celestia’s tutelage, Mort, and I have never heard of a condition that prevented a cutie mark from ever appearing. I’ve seen diseases that added cutie marks, even heard rumors of magic that could change them entirely, but disorders that actually prevent them from ever showing up? It just doesn’t exist!”
Mort was starting to shake now. “I... I...”
“And then there’s the animals,” she said. “All ponies share a special relationship with not just nature, but its animals as well. We may not have as much expertise as Fluttershy, but most of the animals implicitly trust us enough to help them out, whether it’s directing the birds to fly south for the winter, or to wake them from hibernation in time for spring. That said, it’s just not normal that every single one of them would act so violently around you! I could’ve chalked it up to Angel being himself, but it wasn’t until I talked to Fluttershy and saw Winona that I realized that they’re absolutely terrified of you! Like they know something we don’t. And after some of the things I’ve seen and heard, maybe... maybe they’re onto something...”
Mort’s mind raced to find some way—any way—out of this, but nothing was coming to mind. If he ran, that would only prove his guilt. If he stayed, he’d still have no way to defend himself. If something miraculously drew her attention away, he doubted it would be for very long: Twilight was now on a mission to find out what was going on with him.
He was certain she was going to find out, and when she did...
“I-I’m not a bad pony,” he said quietly. “Please. Please believe me, I’m not a bad pony. I’m really not. I-I just can’t tell... you have to understand... I’m sorry, I...”
It all sounded so weak, so empty. He had no way to get out of this. Twilight’s expression was hard. Her forehead was creased in thought, and her eyes were staring at him with an intensity not unlike that of Thanasia.
He was so focused on her, he didn’t notice the small, feathery form above.
Twilight felt sick. In the back of her mind, she had been hoping that there was just some kind of misunderstanding between them, but everything was starting to point toward her suspicions being correct. There was far more to Mort than he had let on, and she wasn’t liking the implications. She entertained the notion of Mort being an immortal like Celestia and Luna, but then it wouldn’t explain why the princesses had never so much as mentioned him. This implied, of course, that the letter sent to her was even legitimate. They were supposed to be impossible to forge, but Mort was somepony who could create magical blades that were thinner than any she had ever seen. If he was hiding facts about himself, he could just as easily be hiding facts about his magical prowess and expertise.
She had hoped that the longer this went on, the more she would feel some sort of catharsis, that the hurt she felt would be washed away by the fact she’d been right. That wasn’t happening. She had imagined Mort getting angrier, more belligerent with every accusation, and that would’ve made this a little easier, but instead he sounded more hurt as time went on. It made her stern facade all that harder to maintain. She wanted to believe he was hurting, and still hoped that this was still just a misunderstanding, but the chances of that were getting slimmer and slimmer.
Then there was what Applejack told her. Mort had acted as if he knew Baldwin, and Granny had thought she recognized Mort from Las Pegasus... where Baldwin had died. The implications were disturbing, but she wasn’t going to accuse Mort of murder or anything like that. For all the shiftiness he’s shown so far, she found it hard to believe he was capable of violence. For the time being, she would keep that information to herself. She only hoped it was a freak coincidence.
“I want to trust you, Mort,” she said, being completely honest, “but I can’t do that unless you trust me, too. So please, no more misdirections, no more evasions, just... tell me what’s going on.”
Mort slowly looked up at her. He was smiling for some reason, but it didn’t feel like a real smile. Not anymore. Now it felt more like a mask that he was wearing.
Skull mask. Again, Derpy’s words floated through her thoughts, and she involuntarily shuddered.
Mort sniffed, sounding to be on the verge of breaking down. “Alright,” he whispered. “Alright. I’ll... I’ll tell you. Just... please don’t be upset.”
Twilight swallowed, bracing herself for anything. “I can’t promise that, but I’ll try.”
Mort nodded, taking a deep breath. “Okay,” he said, “the truth is, I—”
She didn’t know if he said anything else, because by then the air was filled by an ear-splitting screech that drowned out everything else. Frightened, she whipped her head around and was shocked to see it where it came from.
Owlowiscious was hunched over on the stairs, his feathers puffed out and his wings spread wide, making him look twice his normal size. He screeched again, and for a moment Twilight felt frightened. She had never heard such an ugly sound coming from him, nor had he ever looked so predatory as he did now. She already knew why that was.
Owlowiscious took to the air and dived at Mort, talons first. The cloaked pony shouted as the owl attempted to claw at his face, his wings beating rapidly and sending feathers everywhere.
“Owlowiscious, no!” Twilight grabbed the horned owl and pulled him away. He struggled in her grasp, screeching desperately. It reminded her so much of how Angel acted when Mort got close to him. “Stop that! Calm down!”
She brought him down until he was level with her. Owlowiscious’ screeching died down, and was replaced by his more familiar hooting. He gestured at Mort, and seemed to be trying to communicate something to Twilight, but she had no idea what it might be.
She was so intent on Owlowiscious, she almost didn’t notice what the owl now had looped around his feet. Mort’s necklace hung from one of his talons, and she grabbed it with her magic before it fell.
She looked over at Mort, seeing him hunched over, covering his face with a hoof. Any sort of anger or suspicion she felt drained away in an instant. She could always get them back if she needed them, but now she didn’t. The important thing now was to make sure Mort still had both eyes.
“Mort, are you okay?” She looked at the ground below, and was relieved to see that there wasn’t any blood. “You’re not hurt, are you?”
“I-I’m fine,” he said, his voice shaky. “Um, could I have my necklace back, please? I think he might’ve taken it.”
“He did, just...” Twilight trailed off, as a memory came back to her. One of Mort losing his necklace back at the boutique. When Rarity had walked in, and screamed at something she saw. Something she couldn’t recall.
Mort was still covering his face. He hadn’t yet pulled it away, or looked at a mirror, or even looked at her. An idea occurred to Twilight. It was silly, but...
“Mort, could I have a look at you?”
“Sure thing,” he said, without changing his position. “Just pass it over here, please.”
Twilight didn’t reply at first. She barely noticed the owl she still held, or the library around her. She only stared at Mort, vaguely aware that something had changed. Mort still had the cloak wrapped around him, but he looked... different, somehow.
“Twilight...?” She ignored him, her eyes traveling up and seeing his horn. She had known that it was unusual in some way, but thinking back now, she hadn’t known why, exactly. Now, she could see that it was curved, and very sharp. Hadn’t Spike said it was curved? How had he seen it, but not her?
She lifted the necklace in front of her, focusing on the medallion. She rotated it, noting how it felt to hold it with her magic. She hadn’t noticed before, because of how briefly she held it before, but wrapped around the metal of the medallion, she could just barely sense a static sensation. The sort of sensation from magic acting on magic.
The medallion was enchanted.
“Mort, look at me,” she said, her voice hard.
Mort stiffened. “O-okay, but could I—”
“Look at me, Mort.” This was it. She knew it. She was going to get an explanation for all the weirdness that had been happening today. It all started with him looking at her.
Slowly, Mort dropped his hoof, and began to turn to her. From nowhere, Twilight suddenly felt a deep foreboding. She could feel her heart start to pound, as if about to be seized by some immense panic. It was almost like when Mort had stepped into the library the very first time. No, it was exactly like that.
After what seemed like an eternity, Mort was now facing her. Immediately, she knew something was wrong. His face seemed so much paler, so much thinner, and his eyes were so sunken she almost couldn’t see them.
No, that was wrong... she really couldn't see his eyes at all. Only red dots that looked out from the shadows of his hood.
Her magic reached out, grabbing the edges of his hood. Her body was almost rejecting the action, and everything she felt told her to run. She hadn't felt this way when she confronted Nightmare Moon, or Queen Chrysalis, or even Discord, and deep down that terrified her. She knew they had been dangerous, but it wasn’t like this. Those times she had her magic, her friends, her family, her mentor, the Elements of Harmony... she always had something to rely on.
None of that would have mattered here. This wasn't danger. This was inevitability.
She pulled the hood back.
Her magic faltered. The necklace dropped, and Owlowiscious flew free, hovering next to her.
A skull—not a skull mask, but a skull—was looking at her. And attached to it was a spine that went down into the cloak, and around the collar she could see a hint of a rib cage.
Inexplicably, it cleared its throat.
“Please don’t scream,” Mort’s voice said.
She did.
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Not one or two, but three chapters in such a short time. Been waiting on more of this story for a while. One of the first few stories I started reading when I joined fimfiction and can't wait to read the lastest chapter.
Shouldn't this be 'advanced'?
Thus everypony died.
2493456
It should, slipped by us in pre-reading!
Oh Mort, my empathies.
2493456
Aaaand fixed.
Damn it Twilight. How do ponies keep forgetting about the animals thing!?
Biggest. Cliff. Ever.
... Fuck.
Lol
Two things, one; Granny must be a real slow walker.
Two; Holy shit yes! Plot advancement, Mort revealed, Twilight screaming!
As always, wonderful story telling good work all around.
2493514 Are the CMC going to try skydiving off of it?
The reveal was way more awesome than I imagined. And three chapter in the course of two days?
My only complaint is that now we've got to wait another length before the next gripping installment.
Still, you can't rush genius. Hopefully we won't have to wait as long as we did for these three.
2493490
Also,
dozed
Sorry, I'm in a nitpicky mood tonight. Looks like Mort's going to have a very interesting conversation ahead of him, if the girls stop screaming long enough to listen.
literally just finished reading the last 2 chapters. Keep writing! This is a GREAT story!
How can you do this! I need to know what happens next! like...NAO!!!
GOD DAMMIT TWILIGHT WHAT THE FLBLBLBLBBLBB
Wow... Twilight does the exact opposite of what was asked of her.
Hope she likes magic kindergarten.
don't leave us hanging for another month please.
I believe this image serves as an appropriate metaphor for the point we have reached in the story.
american-daughter.org/feature/wp-content/uploads/2009/08/this-cant-end-well.jpg
Kind of an inevitability, but that last scene was tense and funny as Hell regardless.
Great, now I can't wait for the next chapter.
OH FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK NO
RUN MORT
RUN!!!!!!
I need more. Don't leave us on that cliff hanger.
Holy dooly, three chaps in one day! That's an academy record mate!
No
Seriously though, very suspenseful and revealing this one was. Not to mention some of the lawls you threw in there. The blade idea was fantastic and I love how you've continued on it.
Just keep calm Twilight and don't freak out.
I forget owlicious lives in the library too...
About time Mort got discovered by a pony! And dern you!!! Leaving things on such a cliffhanger! Oh well... cannot wait till the next chapter.
Oh, and found a misspelling
Should just be 'cloak' instead of 'cloaked'.
Edit: Also cannot wait to see poor Twilight's reaction when she writes to Celestia about "the monster skeleton pony"/"it forged Luna's seal"/"need the Elements of Harmony ASAP!!!".... only to find out that everything IS legit and that she should take a page from Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and "Don't Panic!" Though I would rather her get told what's-what not by Celestia or Luna, but by Thanasia. After all, the way you've written the story it seems (to me at least) that while Thanasia is cold and distant to everyone, she seems to actually have some feelings for Mort. More than likely the same feelings a mother has for her child, just wanting them to not only "do right" (in his case, act like a shade not a pony), but also wanting to help him feel better (going to Celestia for advice, not arguing with Mort when he made his choice to go on holiday, her 'advice' talk with him before he was ran over by the CMC). Not sure if it will happen this way, so I won't get my hopes up (instead will wait patiently for whatever it is you have in store for us).
...Fuck.
Oh shit.
CURIOSITY KILLED THE PONY TWILIGHT!
And any chance of Mort continuing his vacation.
...luna comes or celey and it all gets cleared up..after he gets blasted away like teamrocket
Nice one! Great work!
It's a shame we can only give one like to this story.
Dis gon be gud
You continue to impress.
As long as we're pointing out typos and small errors and the like.
It seems like there should be another line of dialogue between these two that's missing. Or am I just reading it wrong?
All in all though, great work. You're a textbook example of why it's good to take more time out to plan and write in order to give something more quality and value. That being said, see you again sometime during...the summer? I guess? If I had to make a prediction at least. I don't actually know how much free time you get during the summer, if any.
Whelp, morts boned.. And twilight a nice new future as an air raid siren...
Oh cool this is going great I wonder how-
Awwwwwh cliffhanger
Welllp, until next chapter... *Starts holding breath*
Ow, I actually heard that scream. Imagine waking up in your bed rolling over to your right only to see Princess Molestia staring back at you... And she was in estrus. And it wasn't your bed or your room. But her bed, and her room. And now she's on top of you, with her "you gonna get raped" face. Would you scream?
Need to know what happens next. What happens next!?
NOOOOO!!! A cliffhanger on the one moment ive been waiting for in this fanfic!
2493640
Took the words right outta my mouth. FBLBLBBLBLHBHLHBLH indeed.
Please have twilight listen to mort! It would be just horrible if she ran and told everyone he was a demon or something.
2493845
Ah, sorry about that. Actually added that at the last minute, and overlooked the bit of dialogue that went there.
oh man if you wait till next month to post the next chapter ill be so pissed.
2493941
Bah. :P Well, it happens. Usually the last part of anything I write is where I tend to slip up a bit, too.
OH MY GOD MOAR!!!!
About time somepony figured it out. Can't wait for the next chapter. This has been an amazing adventure so far and it gets better with every chapter.
Oh man!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This cliffhanger D:
Marvelous, truly.
Really hope for the next chapter to be fast.
Another sexy chapter. It made me so hot and bothered. I'm jelly. 25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m9bpczQLqi1rt358oo1_400.gif Care to join me?
Oh man that cliffhanger. Please tell me that the next chapter is almost done.