Chapter 8
“What is Vanhoover like? I can’t even imagine it. You said there is griffons. What’re they like? I’m gonna keep an open mind when I meet ‘em, I promise. Just you wait and see.”
The morning, though still early, was quite warm. Exceptionally warm. This was the warmest morning so far, and the day promised to be a potential scorcher. Tater Blossom had awoken quite early, it was amazing that she slept at all, and in the warm light of dawn, he treated some of her wounds that hadn’t fully closed throughout the night.
“The griffons of Vanhoover are quite different, Miss Blossom. With different conventions and customs. They strive to be Equestrians, with Equestrian ideals. Griffons from Griffonstone have names such as Greta, and Garbo, and Gwen. Equestrian griffons from Vanhoover have different names, to show their solidarity with Equestria. They have names such as Eugene, Eleanor, Elizabeak, and Emmet. Strange names, to be sure, but who am I to judge?”
“Those are strange names,” Tater Blossom agreed with a slow, somewhat stiff nod.
“And unique to Vanhoover. I’m not sure how it caught on. Other griffons in Equestria do not follow this practice, like the griffons of Canterlot. But the griffons of Vanhoover really are quite special. Sadly, they are not well-liked by their own kind, and there is a great deal of cultural friction. They wish to embrace a new way, and their fellows wish to cling to the old way.”
“I understand that… I really, really do.”
“Why yes, I suppose that you might, Miss Blossom.”
His eyes fell to his suitcase, which was packed. Everything fit back in, but the addition of the book made things a tighter fit than expected. For a moment, he paused to think about what he was doing, but then pushed these thoughts from his mind. It was better if he didn’t think about it, for in doing so, he would most certainly paralyse himself. What he was doing was crazy. He was broke.
As he strove to push the unwanted thoughts from his mind, one somehow slipped in. Just one. It occurred to him that he might have to ask his parents for help. For some reason, this felt like the unwanted sting of failure, and he was entirely unprepared to deal with it. He’d made himself responsible for another life, so his failure meant her failure, and that left him uncomfortable, to say the very least.
“So, somepony went against their family to try a new way.”
Squinting through his monocle, he studied his companion, and tried to read what she might be feeling. “That might very well be the case, Miss Blossom.”
“Do you think they was shunned?”
For some reason, this just made him feel tired. Weary. Worn down. How did he answer this? “Griffons have different conventions than we do, Miss Blossom. While I am positive this caused some contention, I am unsure of the outcome or what it might’ve been called. Also, might I remind you that griffons aren’t ponies. Say ‘somebirdy’ instead. It will ensure you are well-liked.”
“Somebirdy. Right. I can do that. If I can remember.”
He sighed, while wondering what, exactly, was he getting himself into?
“Wait”—she held up a hoof—“ain’t griffons part cat, too? Why don’t we say somekitty?”
“If we said that, we’d be referring to the Abyssinians, from Abyssinia. You’ll find them in Vanhoover as well. The griffons share the bounty of the sea with them.” Distracted by thoughts of home, he added, “I can’t wait for a steaming cup of clam chowder.”
“Uh, what?”
“Comfort in a bowl,” he explained, without actually explaining.
“Right. I s’pose I’ll find out.”
“A new world awaits, Miss Blossom. Be excited. But not irrationally exuberant. We can’t have that. You might run amok in a library and earn a new name.” When she did not smile, Nut felt his spirits sag just a little more. “You will get to see the ocean, Miss Blossom.”
“The ocean…”
“It is large. Quite immense, really. It is as beautiful as it is dangerous. I spend a lot of time on the water due to school.” The idea of being on a ship right now appealed to him. It would gently rock from side to side, and that would be quite soothing. He found it difficult to remain awake in such situations. The smell of salt and the peculiar aromas of the ocean were missed.
“How much stuff can one city have?” Tater Blossom asked. “Griffons, and an ocean, and… and… and stuff I can’t even imagine. How does a city have all these things? Where does it all go? Where are the farms? Where does food come from? I can’t… I can’t even get a picture in my head as to what all this might look like.”
While her spirits seemed lifted, he confronted her with what awaited.
“Miss Blossom, we must walk through the heart of town to reach the train platform.” He drew a deep breath. “Are you prepared?”
“No.” Her response was squeaky and made her sound half her age.
He waited.
“I thought I was good to go. But I don’t get to say goodbye. A part of me don’t wanna leave, but I can’t stay. This is the only home I’ve ever known, and I’m leavin’ with a stranger. But he’s a real nice stranger, and I ain’t afeared of him none. If I have to leave with a stranger, I’d rather hope it was him. You, I mean. I don’t know what I was tryin’ to do just now, but I wanted to sound smart.”
Still, he waited.
“If somepony comes to send me away, what will you do?”
“Discourage them.” His response was deadpan, cold, and devoid of emotion.
“I don’t want no one hurt. Well, maybe a part of me does, but she and I aren’t on speakin’ terms. I done reckon I should shun her, and be done with it.” When she drew a deep breath, she shuddered, and her tail flicked against her hind legs hard enough to make her wince.
“There’s a gun in the suitcase—”
“That’s a flare gun,” he said before she could finish.
“Oh. I ain’t never actually seen one before. I guessed what it was.”
“I want you to remain close to me,” he said in a flat, steady monotone. “No matter what happens, you stay close. This goes for when we reach the city, too. No going off to have a better look at something. You remain close, and you do as I say.”
“Yeah, alright. I can do that.”
“No matter what happens, you must stay close. I cannot defend you if we become separated. There is no telling what might happen. Things might get tense. If you become afraid, you must deal with it. I cannot have you getting spooked.”
“I got it, I do. I’m already spooked. Pretty sure if I heard a twig snap right now, I’d bolt.”
This worried him, but his deadpan expression remained steadfast, unwavering.
“You will keep your head held high, and your eyes forward at all times. Do your best to pretend that no one is there. You will walk with dignity and restraint. If I am to be your teacher, and you are to be my pupil, these are my demands. For now. There will be more later.”
“Gotcha.”
“We’ll be working on that later, when we’re safe. Now, deep breath. Head high.”
She did as she was told. Her head could be held a little higher, but he was reasonably satisfied. His pupil, as he had just called her, was injured and in no small amount of pain, so concessions had to be made. What was important was that she could follow instructions. He wanted the town to remember her leaving with her head high for his own reasons, and he did not want to give them the satisfaction of her departing with her head down, with her tail tucked between her legs.
This would not do.
“Repeat after me—”
“Repeat after me.”
Nut felt his left eyebrow muscles forcibly contracting, and his stern expression was in real danger of a smile ruining everything. He wasn’t upset at all, not in the slightest, but she didn’t need to know that. Her spirit in the face of adversity was admirable. Humorous, even. But for now, there was a task to do, and frivolity would have to come later. Preferably with a cup of clam chowder on the table and a pint.
“We are dignified ponies…”
“We are dignified ponies.”
“Fear does not become us…”
“Fear does not become us.”
“Being dignified ponies…”
“Bein’ dignified ponies.”
“We shall face danger with our wits and courage.”
“We shall face danger with our wits and courage.”
For the first time, he allowed just a smidgen of smile to show. “Very good, Miss Blossom. I think we’re good to go.”
“Very good, Miss Blossom, I think we’re good to go.” She hiccupped, perhaps from fear, and with a turn of her head, she asked of him, “May I get a drink of water?”
“Of course,” he replied, “you have but to ask.”
“Do tell, Miss Blossom, why is this place called Widowwood?”
So far, his distraction seemed to be working. His pupil—yes, he rather liked the sound of that—was in high spirits, or seemed to be. No doubt, she had to be in quite some pain, and he had to trot at half his usual pace for her to keep up, but that was fine. What was important was that she kept her head held high, and she remained quite close.
“A great many years ago,” she began, “Almighty Celestia came to this here wood… well, it was a wood way back when… but anyhow, she came here and did battle with the Widow Queen. I’m told there’s been many Widow Queens, but the one who lived here, she done befouled the land with necromancy and bad magic. But Almighty Celestia smote her, ‘cause a smitin’ was necessary. Afterwards, when the Widow Queen was dead, and her armies were defeated, we earth ponies were given the sacred duty to clean up this land and make it so life could live here again. It was a dead land, made evil and impure by the Widow Queen.”
“Fascinating.”
“You say that a lot, Nut.”
“I find many things fascinating.”
“Fair ‘nuff.”
They were on the outskirts of the town proper now. Everything was laid out in circles, with the roads and lanes going out from the center. It was very much like a wagon wheel—or a sun symbol. In the center circle of town were all the large, important buildings, and going right through the middle of everything were the train tracks—with the train platform in the town’s center. The tracks were just spokes, really, running from east to west. Or perhaps west to east.
“I feel eyes—”
“Pay them no attention,” he said. “Focus on me, and me only.”
The westward train—their train—ran early. Eastbound, the train he’d arrived on, ran later in the day. They were in no danger of missing the train, though he felt the need to hurry. Logically, he wasn’t sure what hurrying might accomplish. Once at the train platform, they would have to wait. In the center of town. Surrounded. On all sides. By earth ponies who could hurl rocks with the force of cannonballs.
Surely, it wouldn’t come to that.
As he came out from behind the row of tall corn, he saw a pony. They were quite some distance away, and he dismissed them as a threat. Gripping Susan a little more tightly, he continued forward, for what choice did he have? A pegasus pony flew overhead, dipped low, and vanished behind a tall, bright-red barn.
Why were barns painted such a vivid shade of red?
More ponies could be seen now. Of course they could. They lived here. Some went indoors, while others, others gathered, and then watched. That was fine. They could rubberneck all day for all he cared. But the moment they moved against him—action would be taken. Action that he did not want to take. Hurting them would accomplish nothing and quite enough tragedy had already befell the town. All this shaming and shunning.
Prince Gosling had been shamed or shunned; which one Nut could not recall.
Being an outcast has served the prince rather well, from what little Nut knew of him. Now, he was the Reformer. Not only was the government in a state of transition, pulling itself out of the mire, little by little, but the First Tribes endured metamorphosis as well. However, Nut knew next to nothing about them, only that they had worshiped Celestia first, before the new tribes came to Equestria.
Perhaps his pupil might also be a reformer; Nut rather liked the sound of that.
This might very well be a beginning, he reasoned. She may need to leave home so that she could be properly educated and prepared—so that she might return home some day and enact some meaningful change so this place might prosper. Was this optimism? It flew in the face of rationality to think this, yet here he was, hopeful that his pupil—yes, this was growing on him—would have a bright, successful future.
But first, the train platform.
There were ponies in the way. Quite a large group of them. Would they forsake reason? For now, there was distance, considerable distance, but the mob stood between him and the train platform. Tater Blossom was whimpering, but she kept her head held high, and he was immensely proud of her for doing so.
Off to Nut’s left, somepony approached. Quite unexpectedly, it was Hickory. The stallion, now a grieving father, had red, bloodshot eyes, and it was obvious that he’d been weeping. Nut was fine with Hickory approaching, but he wasn’t sure how the townsponies might react. Would these ponies die for their foolish faith? They might… they just might.
Another pony moved, clearly to intercept Hickory. A speedy fellow of hulking build. Fearing for Hickory’s safety, Nut knew that action might have to be taken, but he didn’t want to start a fight, not if he could avoid it. But these ponies were making it difficult to avoid. What was he to do? The train platform seemed far away now, an impossible, impassible distance.
Cutting his way through a mob to reach it proved to be an unpleasant prospect.
“If any harm comes to this pony, a price will be paid in heads.” Nut’s voice carried for considerable distance, and his farsightedness allowed him to see a great many pricked ears.
“You’re not armed,” somepony shouted from a fair distance away.
With a keen sense of regret, Nut loosened Susan’s blade, which emerged with smooth mechanical perfection. A metre long, gleaming, with edges honed far beyond razor sharpness. Oh yes, this got their attention. This was a language they understood. Fear. Brute force. Intimidation. ‘Twas no wonder these poor ponies had become the enemies of reason. He gave Susan a little wave, and her blade did a marvellous job of glinting in the sunlight.
“You won’t do it!”
“Try me,” he replied, his voice calm, but also loud. “I am a noble”—the word almost caught in his throat, and he loathed himself for saying it—“and as such it is my sworn duty to defend the defenseless. I was so charged to do so by Princess Celestia herself on the day of my cute-ceañera. Do not hold me to my oath. What are your lives worth? Will you carelessly throw them away?”
“Pa!”
For a moment, Nut feared that his pupil might bolt, but she didn’t. No, she remained at his side, and he was proud of her. Hickory, safe for the moment, hurried, and the pony that moved to intercept had gone still. Grim, tight-lipped, Nut retracted Susan’s blade, and lowered his umbrella. So far, for now, the peace held, though he knew that things could change in an eyeblink.
He spotted Blaue.
Her head was bandaged, and he recalled that she had lost an ear. Then he noticed her eyes. Such hatred. Terrible, formidable, awful, reckless hatred. Try as he might, he could not recall seeing such hatred in the eyes of his fellow equines, and having caught sight of it unnerved him. It shook him, and disturbed his faith in the world, which wasn’t terribly solid to begin with.
Such hate… how might it infect ponies?
“Pa, what are you doin’? Yer already shamed… you’ll end up shunned. Cast out.”
“I don’t care, Spudlet.”
“Pa, don’t say that. Please. Go on. Do right. To touch me is to drink poison. You heard what was said.”
“Then the elders are poisoned,” he replied, “you were touched when they drug you outta town. I’m powerful sorry, Spudlet.”
“Mister Wainwright.” Nut offered up a respectful nod and raised Susan in salute. “Pleasant day. Terrible circumstances. Have your goodbyes, good sir, and be not troubled. Heads will roll. Take all the time you need, but do keep in mind we must catch a train.”
Something that was almost like confidence could now be seen in Hickory.
“I wronged you, Spudlet. I wronged myself. I… wish I would’ve done something sooner. So strange. I feel free now. Is this what you feel?”
Tater Blossom nodded.
“I don’t care what anypony says. Yer still my daughter. That can’t be taken away from me. Potato Blossom. I will always remember your name. You keep it… at least I hope you will. Go out into the world and grow. Blossom. Live up to your name. Go and find fertile soil, girl. The ground here has gone rotten.”
“Come with us, Pa.”
“I can’t.”
“Well, why not?” she demanded.
“Long ago, we swore an oath to clean up this place. We were bound to the land. We gave our word. Words is powerful things, Spudlet. Nut here knows this, better than most I reckon. This ground is polluted, and I gotta stay here to clean up the mess I helped make. I might be shamed, but I can still serve as a warnin’, ‘til breath leaves my body.”
“Pa…” Whatever else Tater Blossom might have said was cut off by a choked sob.
Nut watched as a mare approached. She had her ears pinned back, her head low, and he determined that she was not a threat. Hickory and Tater Blossom both watched her, and though he was quite sad, Hickory did gesture for the mare to come closer. Stepping back from the trio, Nut kept an eye on the crowd, fearing thrown stones.
“Aunt Beech, you saved me. Thank you. I’m sorry you got shamed.”
“You were always my brother’s favourite,” the mare whispered back. “Yer very dear to him, Tater. I don’t got no regrets. My husband says I did right, and my heart says I did right, and I’m pretty sure that Almighty Celestia would say I did right. ‘Course, that might be the problem. I’m thinkin’ that all of us seem to think that Almighty Celestia would say we did right… and none of us can agree what right is right now.”
“I love ya both,” Tater Blossom said to her father and aunt.
“And we love you. We’ll always love you.” Beech lifted her head a bit, her ears rose, and after she sidled closer to her brother, she found a little confidence. “Blaue is furious and says all this is a travesty. She’s threatenin’ to write letters and get her good name restored. She’s told us all that she’s gonna call down the wrath of Almighty Celestia.”
“That’s funny,” said Nut in a loud, clarion voice that carried across the distances. “I am the wrath of Almighty Celestia, as per my oath. Does this mean that I am to make a return to this place to sort everything out? You would call for the help of outsiders, after condemning them in such a vulgar fashion? What freshly dropped steaming pile of hypocrisy is this?”
He raised Susan for all to see. “Know this. These two are under my protection. If any harm comes to them, and I find out about it, and trust me, I will find out about it, I will return to this place, and those responsible will be made to answer. When I return to Canterlot, which will be soon, Princess Celestia will be told in detail about this place, and what has gone on here. If you have prayers, pray that she does not come here, as I will be with her, and I will obey her every command, as I am obligated by my oath.”
Blaue departed; perhaps she had business elsewhere.
Nut did not relax his guard as others in the crowd left in haste to look after their errands.
“Lord Nut—”
“Please, just Nut.” He turned to face Hickory.
“Well, you just acted like a lord, yer Lordship.”
“So I did, and I don’t particularly feel bad about it. How peculiar. I’ve always found it distasteful to lord over others. This felt right and necessary. Otherwise, I don’t think I would behave in such a way.”
“I have something I must ask of you,” Hickory said in a voice that cracked with every other spoken word.
“Go on,” Nut replied. “Ask. Without hesitation. If it is in my power, I shall oblige you.”
“Look after my daughter. Give me yer word as a noble. Please… it’s all I have left to believe in.”
Heart sinking, Nut wasn’t sure what to say. He studied Hickory, watched as the tears fell, and did not look away, no matter how awkward it felt to witness the proud stallion's distress. Lowering Susan, Nut tilted his head off to one side, and peered at Hickory through his monocle.
“Why put your faith in such things? Most of the nobles aren’t worthy of such devotion.”
“You are,” Hickory retorted.
“You barely know me.”
“I saw yer drawin’s.” Hickory drew himself up to his full height. “You draw like I make wagon wheels and wagons. Perfect lines, perfect curves, and attention to every little detail that matters. And that’s not even yer mark, yer Lordship. You care. You care. Every line matters. Your commitment to detail. Every detail. That’s character. So please, promise me. Give me yer word as a noble. I trust in you to do right. I saw the proof of your character in your drawin’s. In yer art. My Spudlet has a lot of details.”
Nut stood there, blinking, not understanding how his art could matter so much.
“Promise me that you won’t ditch her the first chance you get, or use her for unwholesome acts, or that she won’t be sold to make coin. Promise me that she’ll be kept safe ‘neath yer watchful eye. Promise me that she’ll get the schoolin’ she deserves.” Hickory swallowed, a painful, terrible sound. “In return, I promise you that I’ll try to do right here. I’ll try to make this place better. Maybe my voice won’t amount to much, but I’m done bein’ quiet. I plan to speak out. Bein’ silent has cost me everything… everything. I don’t even have Blaue no more. I tossed her out last night after we had a row ‘bout what took place.”
“I’ll promise too,” Beech offered as she pressed against her brother.
Unsure of what to say, Nut turned his attention upon Tater Blossom, and this was almost his undoing. Her pained face was almost more than he could bear. The shiny skin of her blackened eye twitched, her nostrils quivered, and her face shuddered in such a way that he feared that she might open some of her wounds.
This was a matter of faith, he realised, and as such, it made him supremely uncomfortable. He found himself in quite a mess, and he was without counsel. This was supposed to be about studying trolls, but life it seemed, had other plans, and right now, at this very moment, Nut resented life for pressing a matter of faith upon him. A stern word needed to be had with life, a good talking to, or perhaps a bit of what for. Just what, exactly, was he committing himself to?
His art, it seemed, was good enough to condemn him.
He heard a shriek and every hair along his spine stood up, even the ones beneath his tweed waistcoat. Colette was running and somehow evading a mare in hot pursuit. Perhaps a sister, or an aunt. The little filly was bawling her eyes out, and Nut felt his heart attempting to leap out of his throat.
“Leave her be!” he barked.
The mare stopped quite suddenly, skidding even, but Colette didn’t stop at all. She ran beneath her father, her aunt, and then crashed into Tater Blossom, who cried out in pain. Colette clung to her big sister’s leg, and wrapped all four of her short, stubby legs around Tater Blossom’s right front leg.
“Don’t go!”
“I gotta!”
“No, you ain’t gotta!”
“Yeah, I gotta!”
“No!” Colette shook her head. “Yer more my mama than Mama is! You raised me! You raised me! You can’t go! You can’t!”
“Colette, I’m powerful sorry, but I’m not allowed to stay. And even if I was… I wouldn’t.”
“NO!”
Nut wondered what a heart tearing itself in twain might feel like, and worried that he was about to experience such a phenomenon. It would be dreadful, and he braced himself. Pints were quite a ways away, though he doubted there were enough pints in the world to dull the pain of such a wound. Mindful of the crowd, he kept watch, while also reminding himself of the coming train.
“No…” Squeezing her eyes shut, Colette clung to her sister’s leg.
“I raised you wrong,” Tater Blossom said to her sister. “I wronged you, Colette. Tellin’ you to put faith in something that I had doubts about. I told you to be right, and honest, and true, and I was lyin’ through my teeth when I told you that. At least, it feels like I lied now. I told you to follow the way when I didn’t know my own way.”
“I don’t care ‘bout none of that! Don’t go!”
“Consarnit, Colette… you don’t even know what you’ve done, but done went and made yer life hard. Why’d you have to go and do that when I ain’t gonna be here to protect you? Tarnation, buggery, and vice!”
Then, cringing, she asked her father, “Pa, am I in trouble for sayin’ that?”
“Naw, yer in no worse trouble, Spudlet. Sometimes, the right words ain’t good ones.”
“You get that from us,” Beech said. “Why, yer great gramama could light a fire with her maledictions.”
“You have my word as a noble,” Nut said as he began to worry about time. “It’s only fair after I mentioned my oath previously. So, you may have my oath as well. I will keep young Miss Potato Blossom in my care, and she will remain in my care until such a time that she is refined and becomes a proper lady. She will suffer no untoward actions, or unseemly propositions in exchange for my care. Her safety and well-being shall be placed ahead of my own. I give you my word.”
A shuddering sigh could be heard from Hickory, who then turned to his daughter and said to her, “Do right by the gentlepony, Tater, and he’ll do right by you. Be a lady. That’s what I want for you. Blossom into something greater.”
Colette wept.
“Beech, we have a job ahead of us. A hard one. Lord Nut here is gonna do right by my little Spudlet, so we have to do right by him. Are ye with me? Can I count on you?”
“Of course, Hickory. You raised me. Just like Tater raised Colette.” Beech stepped closer to Tater Blossom, and said to the sobbing filly, “Come away, sweetie. Come away. You can come and stay with me, just like yer Pa. Yer sister has to go and be a lady.”
“No!” Colette clung on even tighter.
“This… this is when it all changes, ain’t it?” asked Tater Blossom of her family. “I leave and go away. And you two… you three… yer stuck trying to clean this mess up. With everypony against you. All these hard feelings and sore hearts.” She began to sniffle, and her tears fell in a steady stream.
“It’s not hopeless, Spudlet.” Hickory moved closer to his daughters, and stood nose to nose with Tater Blossom, his Spudlet. “It felt hopeless before, which is why I went silent. I just didn’t see the point in kickin’ up dust. I spent my whole life just acceptin’ whatever happened and bein’ quiet ‘bout it, ‘cause I didn’t think things could be changed. Things is what they is. I don’t believe that no more. Things was the way they was ‘cause I didn’t do nuttin’ to change how they was. And it cost me. It cost me.”
Way off in the distance, a train whistle blew.
“I wish I had more time,” said Hickory while his ears pricked at the sound of the whistle. “I finally got my head straight, and there’s no time left. Potato Blossom, you do as I say. Do right by the gentlepony, Potato Blossom, and he’ll do right by you. You spare him your sass. I love you. I wish I had more time.”
“I’ll look after Colette,” Beech said to Potato Blossom. “Blaue won’t touch her if I have anything to do with it. I’ll take off that other ear of hers. She don’t use ‘em no how. I love you, Tater. You take care of yerself, and you go and be a lady.”
“I love you both.” Then, she looked down at her little sister. “Colette, I love you to pieces. You remember this day, Colette. This is the day when we confessed our sins and admitted to one another that we did wrong. This day matters. Never forget this day.” Lifting her head, she said to her father, “Pull her off, Pa. I can hear the train a-huffin’. Time to go.”
Hickory, no doubt knowing that time was short, kissed his daughter goodbye. A second later, Beech also offered up a parting peck, but this turned into something else, a lingering touch—a long farewell that could not last. Hickory began to pry Colette off, and the filly howled in protest. Nut too, could hear the train coming now.
They had to reach the platform. The crowd was gone, mostly, and there was nothing in their way now. There would be no resistance. He hoped that love would hold sway here, for that was truly Celestia’s way, but hope was foolish optimism. His skepticism told him that if change did come to this place, it would be as glacial as it was painful. Did he believe that earth ponies were stubborn creatures?
Perhaps.
Colette was now the source of substantial proof of this, as she would not let go.
But let go she did, and then she clung to her father’s leg, bawling. These were ponies that loved one another. Sure, mistakes had been made. Yes, the family had fractured. But what was left, what he saw right now before him, he recognised them as family, and not so different from his own. There was a lot of love here, and as Tater Blossom kissed her father, her aunt, and her little sister goodbye, he lifted up his suitcase, which was one book heavier.
He was leaving one life heavier.
Perhaps teacher and pupil was a sort of familial arrangement of a type, or could be with the right teacher and pupil. He thought of his teachers, of Luna in particular, and could not help but wonder what they might think of all this. Luna had lifted him up at the most vulnerable, most confused point of his life. She had taught him to love himself, to be himself, and not be ashamed of who and what he was.
Luna had taught him how to live, and he had no way to repay her for her generous gift. But he could pay it forward. That he could do. Potato Blossom, now in his care, would need to learn many things—living with herself after all of this would be difficult, but not impossible. He would find a way to see her through. He owed Luna that much. Goodness rendered for goodness given.
“I say, the train is getting close. We must be going, my pupil.”
“I gotta go,” Tater Blossom said to her family. “My teacher is calling me away. Remember me.”
“We’ll always remember you,” Hickory replied.
“Colette, you mind Beech. She’s yer ma and yer aunt.”
In response, the stricken filly howled.
School was in session, and it was time to go.
And so it ends. As I have stated, the original story was to be a fair bit longer, but this feels like a good stopping point.
I am not sure enough people are interested to make it worth the effort to keep going.
There are other stories to work on, to finish. But, this has done great things for my creative batteries. So this wasn't a waste of time.
Have thoughts? I'd love to hear them.
Thank you for sticking with me during my flight of fancy. 
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I for one would love to see more of the story. Probably starting with conversations on the train, then reporting to the princesses (and possibly the fallout from that), and then establishing her new life in Vanhoover.
I loved this start to finish. I would love to see more from nut and tater.
I, for one, would love to know how this story continues - I really love the characters of Nut and Potato Blossom (and Hickory), and the story is well crafted & written (as all your stories are, to be honest). But in the end, follow your muse - I've yet to find a story from you I wasn't glad to read.
You gave us honking Swanicorns that worry about wingpit-stench and can belch the dragon alphabet, magnificient mount maud, perturbed pony psychopaths turned anti-hero, ill-advised experiments of various hilarious kinds and so much more. So, just let me say, once again: Thank you.
Kind of hope to see Nut and the spud in a future story.
I enjoy Nut and Blossom quite a lot, I would love to see them again. Perhaps as adjunct staff to the research side of the underwatch? Since the Underwatch is a part of the guard now as opposed to a guild, having research staff like Nut and (once educated) Blossom would be invaluable. With his training and talent Nut would be able to wade into the Warren's with a team of Flickers picking and come up with enough information to advance their hunts effectiveness by an order of magnitude. Moreover his talent and training means he could not only hold his own but would be quite well respected amongst them.
I absolutely loved the whole thing. Your Weedverse has always been about personal growth, and only a few of the fics embody that idea as strongly as this one.
Was this a one-off, or did you have an idea for these characters to make a cameo (or rol) in one of the other stories?
I would love to see this continued, to see where Nut and 'Tater are going.
i love this, Nut grew on me in a way i did not expect and i hope to see more of him
Oh, I would really like to read something about Nut and Tater Blossom in the future
For being a shortened version of an original story this turned out to be one of my favorites out of the whole 'verse. Heck, it even works pretty well as a standalone, for someone who hadn't read much or any of the rest of the series. I'm not sure whether it needs to continue, I'll leave that up to whether you want to write it, but I thoroughly enjoyed this for what it is.
I like this one a lot, I like this more than the stories with Flicker Nicker. Maybe, it's really close.
And boy, do I like me some Flicker.
I would love to see more with these characters, all of them.
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And Nut was supposed to appear in The Underwatch as a supporting character. I wanted Nut's story and The Underwatch to run together, like Fantastic Foals and Swans.
Even the tale of the Widow Queen is important in this story, because of the mention of necromancy. Flicker encounters puppet masters; spiders that pump a dead body full of webbing and then control them as a sort of zombie-puppet.
A major source of conflict in the story was Nut getting pulled in so many directions. To care for his ward, to serve his country, to finish school, to assist the Underwatch, and his long-term goal of his grand expedition, which is largely impossible.
I liked it! Though I can’t quite recall the last time you wrote something I didn’t end up enjoying, so take that how you will.
I enjoyed this installment and these characters a lot! Not sure what qualifies as "enough" people, but I can say that plenty of folks including myself would never say no to more of these.
Glad you got to get them creative juices flowing. Your like some authorial Energizer bunny and you continue to draw me in.
I Dont know about the others, but i found myself getting dragged into this one. After a chapter or two to "read something" i became actively wondering about the continuing story. Last chaprer i spent 10 minutes in my car at work because i wanted to start reading before the drive home. I dare say i'd very much be interested in a continuation, at your leisure of course.
parts of this story triger me a lot but i love this story and would like to see it continue
Wherever the ponies in this tale end up, you have breathed life into them and made them whole.
Top marks, Kuzdu. We'll see them again when destiny calls, for a bit part or a starring role.
I have thoroughly enjoyed every story in the Weedverse and would love to read a continuation of this one if you decide to write it.
Weedverse stories give me such emotional turmoil and whiplash.
At the least, an epilogue: if not here, then at least a cameo 'what become of the' in whatever may be your next story, or any existing they can slot into.
As always, your universe is fascinating. Even when the show ends, I will be reading your stuff as i have completely fallen in love with the world you've built. I want to know more of Nut and see how Blossom blossoms.
I may not be commenting lately, but I’m still reading, and while I’m usually not reading during the day right now, for this story I made an exception.
It really helped as a nice SOL story that was engaging (I snerked when I read about the islands with birds, and appreciated the seed/mythology naming structure).
I liked this story quite a bit and wouldn't mind reading more about these two in the future.
Nut has managed in this short time to supplement my number three spot non teapot/pie favriote charecters. Falling just below Sundance and right above sumac. Flicker still coming in on top. Thanks for another awsome story
I love this story almost as much as Sunflower (my fav of yours). You keep drawing me in to these tales!
I enjoyed this and wouldn like more to the story. But, if that can't happen it would be nice to see them pop up somewhere else in your stories just to see how things are going for them.
It could just be me, but it seems that your deeper, more creative/meaningful stories often has slightly less interest that the action packed adventures.
Personally I enjoyed this tale very much. This is exactly what happens when modernism clashes with close minded/backwater towns or communities, something that can be gleamed often around the globe these days.
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Agreed. This is definitely worth continuing.
Griffons with E names? E for Equestria? Interesting.
Yes, ask your parents for help.
Very multicultural, neat.
Fantastic.
Well when you put it that way this seems like a bad idea.
Turns out he was armed.
I'm proud of this Hick-ory.
There's hope for this town after all.
The wrath of Almighty Celestia was very conveniently located for the purposes of this conversation.
I suspect her business elsewhere was being anywhere else.
Artist respects artist.
That Tater is gonna be mashed before this is all over.
Naw, give all the sass he can handle, IMO.
That's an important lesson. The pieces that are left over when a family fractures can still be assembled into a family, even if it's one with a different shape.
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And this lesson was to be super important later when Nut assembles his own family. Because it has an odd shape.
I had Shania Twain’s Fancy playing in my head this entire chapter.
I would love to see more of these characters but perhaps save it for when your collective batteries need a fresh jolt.
You have so many one story characters that could be expanded upon i could understand not wanting to start another epic atm.
"Rust was plentiful on farms and because it killed fungi and mosses that might grow on barns, and it was very effective as a sealant. It turned the mixture red in color. When paint became more available, many people chosered paint for their barns in honor of tradition."
In case anybody was wondering.
This whole chapter made “Fancy” by Reba ring in my head. Lol and now it’s stuck.🤣
"Here's your one chance Fancy, don't let me down” ...
Asking mama, "What do I do?"
She said, "Be nice to the gentlemen, Fancy
They'll be nice to you"
Honestly, I want to see the promised comeuppance. I realize it may not be a terribly important story point, of course. I just like seeing justice meted out.
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That feels very Yahweh/Moses of her.
9753019
You keep saying that. I do not think it means what you think it means.
Or maybe I am just biased.
While the religious stuff is a bit of an annoyance, I say well done! I loved this fic. And I will read the sequel.
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It's an annoyance for me to write, but I do it anyway because it is vital to the story.
9794103
Mhm, well, I'll be reading the sequel soon, that'll be an experience.
i made the mistake of reading the sequel first.
this story really needs to be first as now the sequel makes so much more seance.
this is a amazing story and truly a masterpiece of words.
It's true. And it is hard to be the one to say them.
I enjoyed this story and I wish I could have spotted it sooner. Hopefully you’ll write a followup so we can see a bit more of these characters evolution. I’m also curious about how the situation will evolves in Widowwood. Will the town end up having a religious crisis? Overrun with mini-trolls after a failed attempt at removing them? Shamed to death by a visiting Celestia?
9805264
Um, the sequel has over 100k words already.
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I’m glad I won’t have to wait then. 100k, looks like I won’t be able to get any work done for a few days.
like I feel like spoiled brat, at least 3 if not more completed stories, and hear I am complaining that I did not get my Dark vizard and skyreach. Ohh poo me, I guess I better read up on all the other stuff I missed out on, in my year break from the weed.
Thank you for the wonderful tale. If there is more and you wish to share it, I have the curiousity to read further.
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Fixed.