What's in a mark, anyhow?
There were white unicorns in all shades of white, and then there was Double Helping. He was not pinkish-white, like Princess Celestia, or bluish-white, like Nuance. Nor was he greenish-white, or yellowish-white, or any other faintly-tinted shade of off-white. No, Double Helping was white, impossibly so. White hide, white mane, white tail, he was the sort of pearlescent white that posed a challenge to keep clean in an environment like the barony—but Corduroy would no doubt do her best. Double Helping’s white hide was thick, almost to the point of being shaggy, and not even the merest hint of his pink flesh could be seen.
At the moment, he was clean, but the day would no doubt change that.
The other new arrivals were settling in. Express Delivery quickly formed a friendship with Hollyhock and now the two of them were mothers united with a common cause. Which is to say, foals must be kept content and quiet. As for Gothcruz, the bizarre zurro was somehow in every place at once, and hauled heavy loads between various work sites, all while sharing cryptic riddles with those around him.
Over the past few days—all of which blurred together—the barony had been transformed into something that Sundance almost didn’t recognise. The gatehouse was expected to be finished today, and the final ten dome homes would be raised tomorrow. A sort of panic gripped everypony, everybirdy, and everydoggy, because word had been sent that Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, and Prince Gosling would be arriving for an official inspection.
So now, everything had to be perfect.
“Baron Sundance, we have a bit of a problem.” Berry Briar’s voice was stern but her face appeared relaxed. “Commander Humblewood is assessing the problem now, and I was dispatched to seek out your opinion before anything is decided.”
A deep breath helped to steady Sundance’s frazzled nerves. It had been a long morning, and the afternoon showed signs of stretching. “Alright, what are we dealing with?”
“Picky peasants,” the bubblegum-pink mare replied.
“Picky peasants?”
“Persnickety picky peasants.”
“My subjects are… vocal. What seems to be the problem? How might I help my picky peasants?” He hoped that his choice of words sent a clear message about whose side he was on in whatever matter was about to be mentioned.
He saw Berry Briar smile, and then heard her say, “The picky polite peasants have presented an opinion… not a single one of them likes the basic model of dome home. Every single one of them prefers the split level design, with the raised indoor deck. Because we’ve been building a mix of the two, there’s been some squabbling over who gets what. Nopony wants the deckless version. So, a decision needs to be made.”
“Hopefully not a decision about making somepony live in a home they don’t like.” Sundance shifted his posture and his ears angled forwards.
“Sir, no.” Berry Briar’s posture also changed, and the pegasus mare’s rigid stance matched that of Sundance. “We can change the already existing homes, but we need executive approval. Which means that Commander Humblewood, you, and myself must come to a consensus.”
“Old, elderly ponies aren’t keen on bunk beds.” He kept his wry smile to himself, but the corners of his mouth did twitch. “But they do like a comfortable place to sit in front of the window. What a surprise.”
“Your Grace, you have an amazing and astute grasp of the situation, and I myself tried to suggest the very same to Commander Humblewood. But the Commander was insistent about variety being the spice of life. When we speak to him, we should keep our shared opinion to ourselves, and we should most certainly not gloat or in any way act superiour with our common sense.”
Sundance decided that he liked Berry Briar, he liked her a great deal.
“The bunks are a fine design,” Sundance said to the pegasus mare standing face-to-face with him. “A good, efficient design. Having a bunk right next to the landing so it’s easy to get in and out is a fine idea. Maybe with younger ponies, it might be a prefered design.”
“It is well-liked in other places,” Berry Briar replied. “But even your younger peasants like the indoor deck. They also like having their beds beneath the deck. It is a nice cosy little cubby. We’ve taken to hanging curtains so that the space beneath the deck is closed off. One of the privates suggested it.”
“Let’s go speak with Commander Humblewood and get this over with.”
“He’ll be… upset with the further expenditure of resources, but if we stick together, he’ll come around.” Berry Briar paused, then added, “It’s good you’ll stick your neck out in situations like this one. It seems minor and trivial, but it is a good way to curry favour and loyalty. There are those who might be dismissive in instances like these. Good on you.”
“Thank you, Berry Briar.”
“Don’t mention it, Sundance.”
As it turned out, it was a non-issue, more or less. When confronted, Commander Humblewood was quick to seize upon the idea of squeezing out a little more learning, and then, it was over. Just like that, it was over. A command was given, word was spread, and the change would be implemented. With the minor trouble resolved and out of the way, the three of them now stood, shoulder to shoulder, watching as the gatehouse took shape.
“These past few days,” Commander Humblewood began, and then he cleared his throat a few times. “This has been an ideal training mission. No city or town for the enlistees to get into mischief. Morale feels high. A lot of work has been done. Quite a few of the recruits have new marks to show for their hard work.”
“New marks?” The words caused Sundance’s eyebrow to arch. Tail swishing around his hind legs, the wind ruffling his feathers, he watched as heavy stone blocks were raised. “A lot of late bloomers, eh?”
“There’s a problem with the current generation,” Berry Briar said to Sundance, and as she spoke, her ears pivoted forwards, reaching out over her eyes.
“Typically there’s a problem with every generation,” Sundance remarked.
Berry Briar’s lips pressed together, she grunted, and then shook her head. Scowling, she said, “More specifically, there’s a problem that seems unique to the big cities of Equestria. Marks keep coming later and later. There’s a lot of debate about it. What’s accepted is, foals are too busy with school and everything that comes with school. Less time for play and hobbies. And right when school is over, or worse, they drop out of school, and they find themselves in factory jobs or doing unskilled labour. There’s so much focus on mere basic survival that hardly any time is spent in self-exploration. This generation seems to be hit the hardest. I’ve never seen so many blank green recruits.”
Something turned over in Sundance’s head, and thoughts from previous recent conversations surfaced in his mind. “Meanwhile, the last generation has all the wrong marks and they are suffering from these rapid transitions.”
Commander Humblewood seemed as though he was about to say something, but the words never came. Sundance realised the wise, wily commander was thinking. Putting everything together. It seemed as though both old and young were ill-equipped to deal with Equestria’s future, whatever that might be. Get a mark too young and it might be useless by the time you were old enough to work, or, don’t get a mark at all and deal with being directionless.
Both had their unique problems.
“Once we finish here,” Commander Humblewood said, breaking his silence, “I am going to write out an official recommendation that we use this place as an official training site. Its remote location is ideal. The enlistees stay focused. There’s good work to be done here. I’m positive that I can convince command that multiple interests would be best served if we focused our efforts here. That is, with your permission, Lord Sundance.”
“I’m fine with that,” he replied.
“I figured you would be.” Commander Humblewood turned his face away from the sudden rush of sulphurous breeze that tugged on his ears and blew his mane about. “You know, once, marks meant something. Symbols of survival. A good mason was the sort of thing that warranted an army. They were treasures. The application of martial might was expended to keep them alive, safe, and secure. A good mason could build a kingdom. Everypony benefited from the mason’s work. But now… now… now there are too many masons. Marks that were once symbols of distinction are now commonplace. The necessity of preservation is no longer there. I think about this when I can’t sleep at night, which is often.”
“Now, you find masons in the unemployment line, waiting to collect the dole,” Berry Briar remarked with a great deal of acerbic sarcasm. “Of course, the smart ones, they enlist. We’ll put them to work.”
“What can I do to make things better?” asked Sundance.
Both of his current companions turned to look at him, and from their expressions, Sundance wasn’t quite certain what their reactions were. Shock? Surprise? Confusion? Try as he might, their reactions remained unknown. He shuffled on his hooves, uncertain, and for some reason feeling self-conscious.
“You look confused.” Berry Briar offered up a reassuring smile. “Such candor is refreshing. Just straightforwardness. Didn’t sound like there were any conditions attached.”
“Well, you are helping me to build my barony.”
Commander Humblewood snorted.
“I feel like there is a lot that goes on that I am unaware of,” said Sundance as the unicorn commander cleared his throat. “Sometimes I wonder if the fact that I have no clue as to what it is I am doing is an asset. That sentence feels a bit too long for what was said. I’m feeling rather insecure right now. You two, you’ve been doing this for a long time, so you have perspectives that I don’t have.”
“Eh, you’re fine.” Reaching out one vividly pink wing, Berry Briar patted Sundance on the uninjured side of his neck. “Even with your age, you’re more like these green recruits. That’s a good thing. I gave up a spot further up the chain of command so I could stay with these kids. Life hasn’t crushed them yet. They have ideas, and ideals, ideas about their ideals, and everything that comes with being young. These kids, they still believe that they can and will change the world. And you know what? They just might. Prince Gosling has seen to it that they have the resources to give them a fair shot. While other soldiers are winning the war overseas, we’re right here, fighting the war at home that nopony wants to acknowledge. And you… you fit right in.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“The Gringineers aren’t well liked,” muttered Commander Humblewood. “There are many who feel that what precious resources we have are better spent on martial efforts. Some say that we’re losing the war, and that us Gringineers are the cause. Every bit spent on our endeavours is a bit not spent to push back our Great Enemy. It’s hard to get ponies to understand that if something isn’t done about the situation here at home, we’ll have nothing to save. We’re rotting from within. Our marrow has turned unwholesome. Complete and total societal collapse is imminent.”
“So what can I do to help?” asked Sundance.
“This.” Berry Briar gestured at everything around her. “Keep doing this.”
“But this doesn’t feel like much—”
“One pony, one creature, can make a difference.” Commander Humblewood’s jaw muscles tightened as his face turned grim. “We stand in the face of insurmountable odds, with little more than courage and gumption. Remain resolute. Give others something to believe in. A pony will die for a cause they believe in. I’ve spent my life watching it happen.”
“But how do I do that?”
“We’re giving you the ways and means,” Commander Humblewood replied. “It’s up to you to figure what to do with what we’ve given you. A lot can be done with this.” He raised his hoof and gestured at everything around him. “My job is to build it. Your job is to see that it is put to good use.”
Earwax came to a skidding halt on three legs, bowed her head, and then breathlessly looked Sundance right in the eye. “Milord! Good tidings! It’s Lady Corbie, Milord! Her mark has found her! I was sent to fetch you!”
“Excuse me,” Sundance said to his companions. “I’m a busy baron, and I’m sure that both of you need to get back to work as well. It seems that I am needed.”
“Eh, forget work, I have to see this.” Berry Briar cast a sidelong glance at Commander Humblewood. “Shall we?”
“We shall,” the unicorn commander replied. “Let us see what great future awaits Corbie.”
The celebratory mood in the dining hall hit Sundance like a ton of bricks. One wall was missing at the moment, not that anypony seemed to mind, because all eyes were on a teary-eyed-but-smiling Corbie. Even Amber was almost smiling, as much as the poor foal could smile with her swollen-but-healing face. For some reason, Corbie seemed to have the hiccups.
“Where’s Nuance?” Corbie asked.
“He’s coming,” somepony replied.
“What about Skyla and Quiet?”
“On their way.”
“Oh! Sundance! Look! Look at me!” Corbie’s wings flapped and fluttered as she clopped her front hooves together.
Overwhelmed by his own excitement, he rushed to her side, uncertain if he could contain his curious nature. As he drew near, Corbie turned to one side, and even though it was a bit obscured because she was sitting on it, he could make out the silhouette profile of a silver dragon belching out a cloud of green gas. He stopped suddenly, confused, and tried to make sense of its meaning. It was a pretty mark, and the silvery sheen of the dragon matched some of Corbie’s silver markings. It was a classical dragon, with an almost pear-shaped body, a serpentine neck, and a tail twice as long as the dragon itself.
“I was trying to make Amber feel better, she was having a rough time because Corduroy had to rub in some medicine and it stings”—here the over-excited filly sucked in a wheezing deep breath—“and nothing seemed to be working, Amber just stayed all gloomy, so I chuggalugged a whole big bottle of cream soda and then I shook my booty and danced a bit, and when I felt the pressure was just right, I cut loose and belched out the entire dragon alphabet, just like my mama taught me to do!”
“Your mother is going to kill me,” Sundance blurted out.
“Why would she do that?” asked Corbie, blinking her eyes in the way of innocent fillies everywhere.
“You know what, never you mind.” Sundance tried not to think of what Princess Celestia might do to him, or where he might be banished. “Corbie, you’re a lucky girl. With a mark like that, you could be a diplomat to the dragons.”
“I could, couldn’t I?” Again, the over-excited filly clopped her front hooves together. Then, she went still had a moment of intense calm, the sort that seemed so common yet so out of place in the very young and excitable. “Mother Luna was certain that I’d be a nurse, or maybe a nanny. She made a wager with my father. Daddy will be strutting and Mother Luna, she’ll be a sore loser, and they’ll bicker, but that’s okay, because they’ll make up, and when they make up, they’ll make out, and do gross, icky stuff, but all that grody stuff is fine, I suppose. I might get more little brothers and sisters out of it, and that’d be awesome.” Then, as an afterthought, she added, “I wonder if I can make my parents fight so they’ll make up, make out, and give me more siblings.”
Sundance facewinged.
“Is a governess like a governor? Mother Luna was certain that I’d be a governess, with the way I keep smothering my baby brother, Nuance. Where is Nuance, anyhow? This is the most important moment of my life! What’s taking so long?”
But Corbie—the chatterbox—wasn’t done. “I don’t know what happened. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve burped in my life? When I was a foal, I had colic a lot because I was an aggressive suckler. Mama said I was a bruiser and every time she brings it up now, she rolls her eyes, but she also smiles. I’m a natural born burper but it seems like I’m always burping at the wrong time, like when the Duke and Duchess of Mustangia are invited to din-din. Turns out, they’re not big fans of belch-opera. But with Amber, I really threw my heart and soul into it, because it felt important. I had to do something about that frown.”
As Corbie rubbed her front hooves together, Sundance hoped that his end would be a swift one.
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I wonder if she has a little dragonfire in her and can send messages like Spike does. That was my first thought when her mark was described.
And so a corbie's caw from a sulphurous maw.
It's either that or she's got herself a good natural breath weapon. Weaponized belching has taken dragons a long way, after all...
no
Its
Oh dear
Oh man. This could be the most awesome thing ever or the early death of Sundance. Either way Spike is going to think it's the greatest thing ever.
While I am (always) excited for Corbie, I wonder if a diplomat to dragons who had kleptomaniac tendencies might have a bit of trouble.
A booty shaking, dragon belching mark seems awfully specialized.
Hey, maybe.
9598199
No... she was shaking her booty. That does not mean she got her mark for booty shaking. The dragon isn't twerking, or anything.
Don't worry sundance, Celestial is merciful and will make it quick
This no doubt, gave Corduroy a great deal of satisfaction and a lot of work in the future.
9598565
Well, how many little girls have coffee parties with their stuffies and dolls?
One is socially acceptable, the other is heresy.
9598566
What if you don't drink coffee OR tea?
Maybe it's a Party Pony mark?
Pinkie and Cheese have marks specifically related to something they were doing when they got them but the actual talent is broader.
9598823
Corbie: dragon comedian.
Regardless of familiy and parentage, that kid's going far.
9599540
?)
agreed ( wait who
How DARE a bunch of paper pushers or BS rulers or whatever it is involved keeping us from discovering more awesome in this story?! That is so NOT cool!!! >.<
Also, an important lesson is to be learned here for Corbie. It's not always about our actions themselves, but how they affect those around us.
9598858
...Why do I get this sneaky suspicion we're going to see a new story in the Weed Verse starring Corbie? ~.~