House of the Rising Sunflower

by kudzuhaiku

The sunset hour

This couldn’t be happening. Cucumber was gone. Sundance couldn’t tell if it was the ether or his grief that made him feel the way he did, but he was overwhelmed. A while ago, he had been angry. Now, he was sad—no, beyond sad; he didn’t have words to describe it. His trusted retainer now lay on the ground, on a blanket, and Cucumber looked the best that Sundance had ever seen him. Why, he almost looked young.

There was no trace of blood, no evidence of the violence that had killed him.

Others approached to pay their respects, and Sundance stood still, almost rigid. The others… did any of them know what Cucumber had done? Should he tell them? Cucumber had saved them. It was because of Cucumber that they had a future. Because of Cucumber, the barony still existed and they had been spared a terrible fate. But even with these bright motes of hope, of goodness, Sundance could not help but wonder…

Was Cucumber a good pony?

Had he done the right thing by forgiving him?

A crime had been committed.

Premeditated murder, by the sounds of it.

How could he reconcile with what Cucumber had done?

As was often the case during times of trouble, Sundance wished for his mother, but even this felt weird and wrong, as he was certain that his mother would tell him things he didn’t want to hear. His mother was a stickler, she was rigid, with a black and white sense of right and wrong, good and evil. But, there was forgiveness…

And quiet mercy.

Shaking his head, Sundance almost wobbled. He didn’t know what to make of quiet mercy now, after the fact, after the revelation. It was one thing to forgive minor transgressions—but this, this went beyond the pale. Beyond his comprehension. And the more he thought about it, the more it tore him apart. Along with his grief, it was too much to bear, but he didn’t have the luxury of falling apart. Now, more than ever, his peasants needed him. They were stricken, heartbroken, they were feeling all of the same feelings that he was experiencing, and he had to be there for them.

Princess Celestia’s mood had shifted. Before, she had been chatty, bubbly, of good cheer. But now, she was subdued. Forlorn. It was as if a shadow had passed over her, and Sundance had the distinct feeling that she did not shine as brightly as she once did. He could see something in her eyes, but he didn’t know what it was. Being the sort of pony he was, the sensible, good sort who loved his family, he wished that he could share and understand her pain.

Nuance was draped over his mother’s back, his eyes closed, and the poor colt appeared exhausted. Was he napping? He might just be. Sundance—as a colt—had spent a remarkable amount of time sitting on both his father’s and mother’s backs. In the crazy bustle of the city, it felt like such a safe place. No danger of being kicked, or stepped on, or getting swept away in the crowd.

At the moment, Sundance longed for a return to those carefree days.

More guards had arrived, a whole gaggle of guards. They brought banners, battle standards, and even a small, ornamental brass cannon that glinted in the sun’s last rays of light. A lot of the guard were older—no, not just older, elderly, and had no magic that made them uniform. Sundance had the distinct impression that they were here to honour one of their own, yet none of these guards were quite as old as Cucumber, so he wasn’t quite sure of their purpose.

“Does anypony have anything they’d like to say? Some meaningful final words?” Sumac stood, his face pointed towards the west, and what was soon to be the sunset could be seen reflected in his green-glass spectacles.

“Cucumber was the best of us,” said Fallow Fields. “He was always there to do his duty, no matter what. Rain, shine, snow, even when he was sick. He never shirked a day’s work in his life. I can’t even recall him taking a day off. Cucumber kept the fires lit and the lights on.”

“Well said, Fallow.” Bernin Streusel started to say something else, his mouth opened wide, but then the overwhelming sadness could be seen in his eyes. Again he tried, and again he was too overcome by grief to speak.

“Anypony else?” Sumac, expectant, glanced around, and as the moments stretched into seconds, and the seconds stretched into minutes, it became obvious that grief had silenced those gathered.

Sundance too.

Then, without warning, Princess Celestia spoke. Her voice was like the rising dawn, glorious, profound, and its warmth pierced through the chill of grief. The words she said fairly echoed through the box canyon, as if even nature itself was made to bear witness to what she had to say.

“Cucumber’s life was one of refusal.” She paused for a moment to allow these words to sink in. “When he was but a small colt, I saw promise in him, and I tried to lure him away to Canterlot. I wanted him in my guard. I saw a pony that I could trust, and in those troubled times, trust was in short supply.” The big mare bent her proud neck, and tilting her head, she looked down at Cucumber’s unmoving body.

“He told me no. Not many ponies are brave enough to tell me no. It isn’t something that I hear often. His steadfastness impressed me.” The marble mask broke and Princess Celestia’s emotions could be seen by all. “The war broke out. There was a terminal failure in diplomacy and tact. Equestria collapsed in upon itself and the Separatists sought a return to the old ways, a restoration of the old order. Many unicorns within this very barony went to join them… but not Cucumber. He refused them, just as he had refused me. When asked why, he spoke of duty.”

The alabaster alicorn’s eyes turned glassy.

“From what I understand, Cucumber had family members who joined the Separatists, and he defended the barony against their advances. They knew the land, they knew the defenses, they knew the plans. The battle was fierce, perhaps the very worst battle in the whole war. Steam-powered tanks rolled through seas of grain. What was once green, lush, and beautiful, became desolate, burned out, and barren. Cucumber was among those who refused to surrender, and made their final stand here, on this very spot, in this very canyon. When all else was gone, when there was no hope left to be had, when facing impossible odds… Cucumber refused to die and give ground to the Separatists.”

Blinking, squinting into the last rays of the sun, Sundance looked around the canyon. Perhaps it was a trick of the ears, but he could almost hear the sounds of battle. Shouts, explosions, the roaring crackle of flames. Echoing screams existed just beyond the range of his hearing, and he strained to listen to sounds that he couldn’t be sure if they were there.

“After the restoration of peace, I tried again to lure Cucumber away. I offered him an officer’s position, wealth, I even tried to entice him with peerage, but he refused me. Why, he even grew annoyed with me, and made it a point to vanish when I came to visit during the reconstruction. His refusal became a sore point with me, because I saw so much potential. So much greatness. But Cucumber had no great ambitions, and I was left wanting.”

Pausing, the alicorn mare drew breath.

“Not long ago, I offered Cucumber stewardship of this barony. Cucumber refused me. He told me that he didn’t deserve the position, and asked me to find somepony worthy. When I asked him to reconsider, he told me that it was a bit too awkward for him, a unicorn, to be ruling over earth ponies. I asked him again, several times more, in fact, and he refused me each time, telling me he wasn’t worthy of stewardship. His life was one of refusal…” Her words trailed off, almost as if she had more to say.

Sundance noticed that she was looking right at him and he wondered what she knew.

When Princess Celestia and Lord Sumac exchanged a glance with one another, Sundance suspected that the big mare—his grandmother—knew. How could she not know? Surely, her sister, Princess Luna, peeped into Cucumber’s dreams and was aware of his guilty conscience. She had to know even when she offered him the position of stewardship. Why hadn’t she done something? What was the purpose in waiting? Was there anything to be accomplished by overlooking this black deed?

A wailing scream caused every ear to prick and the haunting sound bounced from canyon wall to canyon wall. Sundance—impaired as he was—somehow managed to almost jump right out of his skin. Again, another scream was heard, and this one was in every way worse than the one previous. Life was hard here; it started hard, and it ended hard, with nothing but hard work in the middle.

“I’m needed,” Sumac said, and his words chilled Sundance right down to his marrow.

---

The old guard—the elderly Royal Guard—stood gathered around the cannon. They were a solemn bunch, these old salts, and their grizzled, scarred appearances made them seem more so. Their armor still fit, was well-polished, and showed signs of exceptional care. One of them, his armor was different than the others, and though it took Sundance a bit of time due to his condition, he recognised it for what it was.

One of them was an Immortal Solar. He was old, but not ancient, not like Cucumber was. One eye was missing, and from the looks of things, one ear as well. His mouth was pulled down into a perpetual scowl, and his muzzle was crisscrossed with withering scars. With a grunt of effort, the Immortal Solar began to load the cannon, and did so with a practiced ease that was awe-inspiring to watch.

“General Upsilon…”

The old soldier paused, grunted, and turned to face Princess Celestia. “Yes, Marm?”

Holding out her wing, the princess lifted her head and adopted a commanding posture. “I do believe that Cucumber was deserving of a little extra powder. Send him out with a bang, will you?”

“Of course, Marm. As you say, Marm. My life for you, Marm.” Bowing his head, the old unicorn went to work, obeying Princess Celestia’s order.

With a yawn, Nuance roused himself and then pushed himself up into a sitting position upon his mother’s back. He yawned a second time, blinked for a while, and then, half-awake, he raised his foreleg over his eyes in a clumsy, but sincere salute. There was a warm earnestness to his actions that was easy to see, even in Sundance’s still-addled state.

“Nuance, would you give the command?” Princess Celestia asked of her son.

Another yawn escaped Nuance, and then the colt sat up straight. He lowered his foreleg, waited, and when the cannon was finished loading, he shouted, “Fire!”

There was a deafening report from the small, ornamental brass cannon that caused a great many owls to take wing in panic, along with many other birds. Sundance’s ears rang from the blast, and he could feel a thudding in his temples. Without a second wasted, General Upsilon was already reloading the cannon for the next fire.

Nuance was awake now, and from the looks of things, so was everypony else. The owls were screaming bloody murder, and there was much flapping to be heard from all directions. When the cannon was reloaded, it was fired again. The world around Sundance turned into a deafening cacophony the likes of which he had never heard.

It was impossible to think, or feel, or to contemplate his grief, or to do much of anything. The second shot worked the owls up into a frenzy and their incessant hooting and shrieking utterly demolished the solemn silence. Princess Celestia stood in a regal pose, her face angled skyward towards the setting sun, and the cannon was fired for a third time.

---

After the twenty-first cannon blast, Sundance was almost deaf. A strange exhaustion had settled over him after having his muscles tense twenty-one times. With Sumac gone, it was Princess Celestia who wrapped Cucumber in his blanket, lifted him, and then laid him to rest in the grave dug near the crystalline tree.

With Cucumber in the ground, Sundance didn’t know what, or how, to feel. Mindful of his wobbly, treacherous legs, he approached the grave, and Silver Lining moved with him. Looking down, he saw the dark green woollen blanket that now served as Cucumber’s burial shroud. A little dirt had fallen down and could now be seen scattered over the blanket.

He wanted to say something, but words failed him. Perhaps silence was best. Even a simple ‘goodbye’ seemed like too much to say. Beside him, Silver Lining draped her wing over him with great care, and pulled him close. He managed to contain himself for a time, but the grief proved to be too much and his tears could not be held back.

To the west, the sun slipped down below the base of the Canterhorn…

Author's Note:

One more chapter, and then this act is concluded.

Comments

[Valhuir]

So... Back in Canterlot, I must wonder what the other nobles think of Sundance - both the "Old Guard" and the "Young Blood". First, he risks his life in a massive storm for a single, older member of his fiefdom; then, directly confronts a rampaging Bugbear to protect his people, and is severely injured in the attempt - and witnesses report he was struggling to rise to continue his stand when the bugbear was defeated...

[randomPony461]

“Enemies foreign and domestic”...

I’d say Cucumber did his duty, difficult and dark a task though it may have been...

[Bahamuttone]

Hmm there is something to be said about how it’s relatively fine to kill for defense of the people when someone is attacking with deadly intent physically but when someone is doing the same thing with indirect way it’s a really bad thing to do...

[alexandria2k]

oh shit.
Sumac's needed again? Was it the mother....or the baby?

[Snowliasion]

Needed again... what a gray day.

[Spamotron]

9358517
Well its not like they're a homogeneous hivemind. I imagine some consider him to be a selfless hero who sets a great example of what a noble should be while others see him as shortsighted and reckless, endangering the future of his holding by regularly putting himself in life threatening situations with no heirs to carry on.

[Sylvian]

Solem enim servat nos

The Sun keeps us.

There is a special honor to those who fight for their family, their friends, above country. Especially in civil wars like what Equestria seems to have gone through, as when all is said and done a nation is nothing more than a collection of families, a collection of lands, a group of friends. What Cucumber did, in all things, was honorable. He stood his ground, before the Princess, before the separatists, before his Baron, and said "No more." and for that, he is a true hero even if oaths were broken on that last part.

So, for the third time in a row, have a song ;3

Semper fidelis, Cucumber. May the Elysian Fields be greener than what you left behind, may those who have gone before you welcome you with open arms, may you feast the feast of heroes, and may your memory live on in those who come after.