Paying off old debts
Recently drenched, the garden glistered with rain and smelt of warm, wet greenery. No doubt, the scheduled precipitation here in Canterlot was a boon for gardeners. Nut stood in the spot where he’d spent many hours of his foalhood, with some of those hours spent with Pod. How many hours were spent in quiet study and play? Playing doctor was a favourite, due in no small part to their shared love of biology.
Their first kiss had happened here.
An obelisk stood in the corner, sheltered beneath a tree, and on this small monument there were many names etched into the stone. He and Pod’s names were quite visible; an arrangement etched in stone, a promise of things to come—yet their union had been cancelled. It pained him to see this obelisk, this monument that bore witness to a promise broken. His parent’s names could be seen, as well as Gestalt and Lambda’s.
Nut had broken the chain, and in having done so, now had deep regrets.
He still loved Pod—very much so—and this, this made everything so much more complicated with Black Maple. Now, as he stood in the tiny garden, Nut could only feel the dull ache of remorse as his failure attempted to haunt him. While he had been told that refusal was fine, it bore no consequences, that he was free to say no—he could not help but notice that the long chain of success ended with he and Pod. At least for this branch of the family. Their names were linked together, but no heart had been engraved into the stone to mark marriage.
Seeing it caused a vespine pain whose venom burned his heart.
There was no joy to be had in this place, no euphoric nostalgia to be found, only a reminder of a promise broken. Nut sighed, cast a final glance at the stone that bore witness to his failure, and he tried to make sense of what his life had become. Perhaps his mother was right. Maybe he was just wasted potential. Her words had certainly lodged beneath his skin.
“Pod… I am sorry… you deserve better, and you found that with Taffy. Good for you.”
Eyes stinging, suddenly blurry, he turned his head away, but lingered just a little longer.
The streets of Canterlot felt broad when compared to the narrow corridors of Vanhoover. Well, some of them at least. Depending on where one was in the city. Nut found himself in a new-old part of the city, where towers gave away to row houses that all stood together like perfect, well-aligned teeth. Saved on both space and building construction to share a common sidewall. Quite a practical solution.
Nut detested them as much as he admired their practicality.
It felt nice to be wearing a frock coat once more, even if it was rather old. His old clothes were in far better condition than his current wardrobe, which was to put it charitably, tatters. ‘Twas pale green with various threads of orange, yellow, and pink. Double breasted from throat to chest, and then a more sensible single breasted down the barrel and along the belly. Much to Nut’s lament, his coat was sorely out of fashion.
Surely, such a timeless garment would come back into fashion once more.
There was traffic in the lane and the roundabout, not that Nut cared. He had four good legs and a will to use them. There was no need to hire a hansom cab or carriage. At some point, it had ceased to be stylish to walk about from place to place, and everypony just had to have a pony-drawn conveyance of some manner.
Glancing about, he found himself where he needed to be. The row houses were facades, false fronts. These houses here were carved directly into the Canterhorn, which made them quite large and spacious, but the facades allowed them to fit into the theme of the neighborhood. In reality, these were mansions, and some of them burrowed quite deep into the mountain.
Alas, the home he was looking for could not be seen. Powerful aversion spells kept it safe, which was understandable, really. It was a Dark safehouse, a refuge. During the changeling invasion of Canterlot, Caliginous Dark sheltered many helpless ponies and other creatures in his home. Nut remembered that day vividly as he helped to escort group after group to the Dark safehouse, which remained changeling free. Caliginous was a powerful wizard, and not one to be trifled with.
“Now let’s see,” Nut said to himself. “What was that again? How did that go?”
He squinted, not that it did him any good, and tried to remember the password, which he hoped hadn’t been changed. “Hmm… Treue Dunkelheit. Odd words, those.”
A second later, a row house became visible that wasn’t there a moment ago. It still stood, and Nut was rather relieved to see it. Grinning, he trotted up to the door, took a moment to make himself presentable, smoothed out his frock coat, adjusted his lapels, polished his brass buttons, and then rapped on the door with Susan’s crook.
The silver gargoyle head on the door came to life and its baleful gaze focused on Nut as it asked, “How did you find this place? Go away! No visitors! Don’t make me defend myself!”
“Professor Dark,” Nut said to the silver gargoyle head on the door. “It’s me, Nut. Your student.”
“You could be anypony.” What a ferocious face the silver gargoyle had, with its glinty obsidian eyes narrowed and its teeth bared. “Go away or I shall be forced to deal with you.”
“Please, Professor Dark… I’m worried for you. I’m your student, Nut. I can prove it.”
“Oh, I doubt that.”
Leaning in close to the gargoyle, Nut whispered these words: “Manners maketh pony.”
“Do you remember the passwords for the door, my boy? If you try to pass without it, you’ll be obliterated.” Now wizened, the silver gargoyles face was host to a multitude of wrinkles.
“Fidelis Tenebris.” As soon as the words left Nut’s lips, there was a click from the door. “Veritas est in obumbratio.” A second click was heard, this one with a great deal more volume. It seemed he was welcome, but there was a moment of hesitation as he pushed the door open and a blast of intense heat washed over him.
Beyond the door was a stranger that Nut almost didn’t recognise. Caliginous Dark had aged considerably. His once stygian-black mane was now more silver and white than black. His mismatched eyes, one a dull orange, the other a muted pink, appeared sunken. As for his magnificent grullo pelt, it was mostly a patchy grey now, while all of this was awful in its own right, what made it worse was that Caliginous was middle-aged.
“I was loyal…” The creaky utterance that came from the ruined remains of the professor was not the stern, commanding voice projected through the gargoyle. It was more of a broken, reedy, nasal sound, entirely too raspy for Nut’s liking. “I was loyal… I still remain her devoted servant. She cast me aside, Nut.”
“Professor?”
“I bear her no malice, no ill will. She had to cast me aside. I was poison. No one trusted us, and who can blame them? They came out of the shadows, Nut. Wardens. So many of them. To peer inside of my head. And I let them, too. I had nothing to hide. I was loyal. I was loyal.” These reedy, raspy, drawn-out words were punctuated by coughing.
Without warning, Nut found himself seized by his coat and yanked forward.
“They all went bad, just as I feared they would, Nut. Distancing myself from them was not enough. Not enough! I am still suspect. No trust. No trust. Princess Celestia wanted to keep me as a teacher, she did, she did. But she had to cast me aside. For her own good. She had to distance herself from me so my shadow would not fall upon her. But I’m still here… still loyal. Always loyal.”
“Professor… how about we sit down and have some tea, perhaps? You sound dreadful.” Even worse than that, this was not the pony that Nut remembered at all. The calm, eloquent, thoughtful, gentle soul had been replaced with… something else. Something unknown. All in all, it was quite disturbing.
“Do you still believe in my goodness, Nut?” the professor asked, pleading.
“Of course I do, Professor Dark. I would never doubt it for a second.” Nut thought back to the day of the changeling invasion and the intense expression of frantic mania he’d seen on his instructor’s face. The fear that even one life might be lost. It was in that moment that Nut aspired to be good, and to hold himself to a higher standard.
Professor Dark had taught him much.
There was a wheezy whine from Caliginous, followed by, “I had to keep my students safe. Safe from the shadow I cast. The name Dark has become a foul poison, and for good reason. We almost brought down Equestria from within. First with Mister Mariner, and then Dark Desire’s foul treachery. Damn them both! Damn them!”
Then, he barked out, “Vermillion! I’ll be having my noontime tea early!”
Caliginous stood blinking, his odd, asynchronous blink because his eyelids did not move in unison. Nut struggled, hoping to catch a glimpse of the pony he once knew, but there was no sign of his beloved professor, just a stranger that bore a remarkable similarity. Nut placed Susan in the wrought iron umbrella rack near the door and then waited for Caliginous Dark to do something, anything.
Nut was far too well-mannered to escort his professor through his own home.
“Vermillion! I’ll take my tea in the library! The basement library next to the workshop!”
Soft yellow candlelight cast flickering elongated shadows upon the shaped-stone bookshelves. The shelves needed a bit of care, as many of them leered like gap-toothed smiles, with many books missing. Of course, the books weren’t actually missing, they were piled on tables, desks, chairs, and every available surface.
Nut wondered if his beloved professor grieved for his lost family—or despised them.
“Some good can still be done, Nut… some good can always be done. Never forget that.” Caliginous slumped over in his chair with a sigh. His salt and pepper eyebrows hung low over his mismatched eyes, and his odd, curved, pointed ears failed to point upwards at the ceiling. “We Darks deal in obscurity and oddity. Since I’ve had so much free time, I’ve been trying to make sense of what Dark Desire has done. Princess Celestia still trusts me where it matters. She sends sensitive materials my way and I try to make sense of them. There’s always some good that can be done.”
At a loss for words, Nut did not know how to respond.
“Nut… what did I teach you? What did you learn from me during our time together?”
“Professor?”
“What stands out?”
Wondering if class was in session, Nut took a moment to consider. “Well, in a manner of speaking, you were my etiquette professor. But… but it was more than that. After I was enrolled in school… why, you were everywhere. Teaching everything. When a situation happened, you seized upon it and took the opportunity to instruct. You awaited for any chance, any opportunity, any moment that might hold a lesson.” Pressing his front hooves together, Nut added, “I think it could be said that you taught me how to live. I’m not sure that it was ever about manners, now that I look back.”
Head trembling, ears twitching, something that was almost a smile could be seen on the face of Caliginous Dark.
“When the changelings invaded Canterlot, even in the midst of all that chaos, you took advantage of that situation and you taught a lesson to me and the others. Though I cannot say what the lesson was, I can say it was quite vital in some way. Necessary. The events of that day molded me into the adult that I am now. To say that you taught me that every life mattered would be a great disservice, but there is no way that I could explain the breadth of that lesson, nor its depth.”
Caliginous Dark was a little calmer now, perhaps. Or maybe comfortable. Nut studied him while he thought about how some lessons only became apparent in retrospect. How much time would have to pass before he could look back on this moment and see the lesson offered? Vision and hindsight changed with maturity. Caliginous Dark had taught him how to be noble. Not the sort of noble that lords over others, but to be noble, with character and integrity.
His professor had accepted his undeserved fate with dignity and aplomb for the good of all. Even at his own detriment, for surely, Caliginous suffered. A lesser pony might have broken completely. Or worse, become disloyal. Traitorous. Treasonous. Spiteful. Yet, none of these things seemed present in Caliginous. He’d done what was best for everypony involved, Princess Celestia first and foremost, all at the cost of himself.
‘Twas a noble act, and could not be denied.
Nut found himself wondering if his own integrity would hold up under these circumstances.
“You were always a thinker, Nut. Some of your teachers derided you for not paying attention, but not me. Never me. You were the best sort of student a teacher could hope for, Nut.”
“Why, thank you, Professor Dark.”
“I’m dying, Nut.”
“Professor?”
“If we Darks have a weakness, it is our lungs. Mine are full of cancer. However much time I have left, it will be spent in service.”
“Surely you could get healing in the Crystal Empire—”
“No.” Caliginous gave his head a weak shake from side to side and then spent a moment fighting for breath. When the tense moment of struggle had passed, he leaned his head against the back of his chair and smiled a feeble smile at Nut. “It’s not that I don’t want to stick around… I do… but I am confident that I’ve left my mark on the world. Ponies like you will pick up where I left off. I fear it has come time for me to exit stage left. So off I go, confident that others will take up in my stead. I’m glad you came today, Nut. Of all my students, I always felt that you were the most promising, and I’ve thought of you often.”
“Fond thoughts, I would hope.”
“Oh, indeed.”
All of this was a bit more than humbling.
“You taught me that nobility was a state of mind, and not a birthright. I might have phrased that poorly. Because of you, I was taught to be conscious of my thoughts, my actions, and how they reflect me as a pony. Because of your patient tutelage, I am noble in thought and deed. I feel there is more I wish to say, but the right words elude me.”
“We Darks were once a noble house.” Caliginous sighed and there was a dreadful rattle heard within his barrel. “But no longer. I am glad that we have been dealt with. Relieved. With whatever time I have left, I plan to clean up the mess that my family has made.” There was another sighing gasp, a cough, and then his head lolled and bobbed as he struggled to hold himself up. “So, tell me, Nut… what brings you back to Canterlot? Spare no detail, or you’ll stay after class.”
“Well”—the idea of staying after class caused Nut to smile—“I’ve taken on an apprentice. The whole series of events has been rather troubling. There is something quite remarkable about her. I found her in a literal potato patch—”
“Nut… what have I told you about peppering your sentences with the word literal?” Caliginous affixed Nut with the stern stare of a seasoned educator.
“No, I literally found her in a potato patch. A farm owned by the Solanums. Her name is Potato Blossom. I am literally free to use the word literal here, without repercussions.” He privately enjoyed his moment of victory, but was careful not to show it. Professor Dark was known to be cranky.
“Is she… an earth pony?”
“Is that a problem?”
Caliginous was quick to respond with, “No. But it is a surprise. I sense your mother’s influence here. You’re not clever enough to come up with this kind of quirkery on your own.”
Nut’s smile became a straight line as his lips pressed tight together.
“Grouse about it if you wish, doesn’t change that it’s true.”
The straight line almost became something akin to a scowl.
“A literal symptom of literal thinking, no doubt.”
Now, the almost-scowl became an almost-smile and Nut could not help but chuckle.
“My mother does not approve of my efforts to survive by my own means,” Nut said rather suddenly. “I’m pretty sure my father doesn’t either, but he has not had a chance to voice his opinions just yet. My grand experiment is something of a failure… I had to come home and seek financial assistance. My ward”—he found himself correcting himself once more—“my apprentice is a prodigious eater. I gave my word as a noble to her father that I would care for her. She shouldn’t have to suffer for my experimental endeavours.”
“Oh good, you’ve finally matured a little and maybe that rebellious streak has subsided a bit.”
“Never,” was Nut’s firm response. “I still hold fast to my ideals.”
Caliginous coughed a bit, his whole body trembled, and then, as he fought to contain his need to hack, subdued wheezes could be heard within his barrel. He held up his hoof though and after a few more wheezes, he said, “What is important to remember, my boy, is that when your circumstances changed, so did you. For some, pride would prevent them from doing right. You deserve a little credit and some respect at least, for your lack of rigidity. Spines should be stiff, for posture and good health, but necks were made to be bent.”
“Liberating Miss Blossom from her home was rather harrowing. My nerves are still quite jittery just thinking about it. There were moments when I was certain that everything would end in bloodshed. Such ignorance… such willful ignorance. They were willing to die for it, I think. It has impacted me in ways that I have not yet sorted out.”
“The day of the invasion,” Caliginous mentioned, “do you remember what I told you?”
“Of course, Professor. Never take what I cannot possibly give back. Your words—those words have made me the pony that I am. That’s why I worried… I feared that I would be left with no choice but to take what I could not hope to give back. Once a life is taken…” Nut’s words trailed off and the rest of his sentence escaped as a soft, overlong sigh.
“That, my boy, is my most important etiquette lesson. Do not take what you cannot return. If you can live by that one rule, just that one, the world will be a better place for you having graced it.”
“Manners maketh pony.”
“Indeed.” Caliginous’ lip curled back into a smirk. “You were ready to take lives that day, Nut. I consider it one of my great accomplishments that I stopped you. You were far too eager to separate some heads from undeserving necks. And for what? Because they don’t look like us? That would’ve been a hasty mistake. Nut, it is my sincere hope that you never live with the burden of taking a sapient, thinking, feeling life. It’ll leave your spine a mess, Nut. The weight bears down, and crushes. Some of us carry it better than others. I’d rather you not find out how to live with the load.”
Vermillion appeared, pushing a small trolley loaded down with everything needed for a proper tea. She was a pony of excellent breeding by the looks of her, with good posture, a dignified pose, and she walked with a light, quick step that could only be described as youthful. Which was an asset for a middle-aged mare such as herself.
In Canterlot, even the staff came from exquisite bloodlines.
“Why, Vermillion”—Caliginous cleared his throat, a wet, raspy sound—“will you join us for tea? Please?”
“Oi, I’m not so sure about that, yer Lordship.”
“Nut, this is Vermillion. She stayed with me. Alone, she remained loyal.”
“Don’t go on and on about loyalty.” The maid rolled her eyes, clucked her tongue, and let heave a nasal sigh. “You pay me well, you’ve never crept up behind me to jump my bones all unexpected-like, and you’ve never once mistreated me. I see no reason to leave.”
Caliginous exchanged a glance with Nut, and with it, a great many unspoken words.
“A girl could do worse for herself,” Vermillion said. “I’m here to stay.”
“Nut… do be a fine boy and tell Vermillion your joke. You know the one.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly—”
“I insist.” Caliginous’ firm tone left no room for disagreement.
“Very well.” Eyes downcast, Nut resigned himself to his dreadful fate, and told the joke that he loved to tell when he was a young colt that knew no better. “Why is Princess Celestia the world’s biggest vandal?”
“I have no idea…” Vermillion did her best to look mystified.
“Because”—Nut now felt ashamed for saying it—“all around the world, the dawn just won’t stop breaking.”
There was an explosive snort from Vermillion, then another, and with the third, she brayed with shrill, nasal laughter. Nothing was held back, and peals of laughter echoed within the cavernous library. There seemed to be no end of this laughter, and with each fresh burst, Nut’s ears sank a little lower, like two ships vanishing over the horizon.
Even Caliginous was chortling, which might very well be the first time he’d ever laughed at the joke. Looking back, Nut had no idea why he loved the joke as a colt, or why he found it so funny, or why he kept repeating it. Even worse, he had once said the joke with Princess Celestia present—only he didn’t know it until it was far too late. After that, well, that was the end of the joke. The deadpan expression of the big alabaster behemoth proved far too much for him to bear.
“Oi, yer hilarious, yer Lordship. I think I’ll stay for tea, since I was asked.”
“Oh, we’d love to have you,” Caliginous said to his maid. “Do have a seat. Be comfortable.” He smacked his lips, perhaps in anticipation of the tea and goodies to come. “I do so hope we have those blackcurrent scones you bake.”
Ears now pricked upright, Nut allowed himself a moment of polite laughter.
Now, when Nut trotted down the street, he did so with a much lighter step. Sure, he was still troubled, especially by the plight of his beloved professor, but the long talk about everything lifted his spirits. Yes, now he was in good spirits, and the clip-clop of his hooves against the cobblestones was proof of that. He was a fancy prancing pony and he didn’t care who knew it. The time for reservation was gone—and now was the time to strut.
All the clouds were gone, the sun was shining, it was warm, at least by Canterlot standards, and everything felt good. Nut wondered how Pod, Taffy, and Tater were getting along. Even though he wandered, he headed in a vaguely homeward direction. Perhaps he’d try having another conversation with his mother. Maybe this one might go better. Even if he failed, things weren’t as terrible as they could be.
For things could surely be worse.
Upon his arrival at his family home, Nut discovered that he had company awaiting him, which he found a bit odd. He’d just returned to Canterlot, so how could anypony know that he was here? How did word spread with such quickness? He wasn’t worried so much as he was curious. But a visitor would be pleasant, perhaps an old friend, maybe somepony from school, possibly somepony like…
“Secundus.” Nut stood in the door of the tea parlour where his guest waited.
“Nut.” Secundus folded up the newspaper he was reading and then set it down upon the table just in front of him. “I ran into Pod and Taffy downtown. Had the pleasure to be introduced to your apprentice. I believe the relationship suits you.”
“Why, thank you. That is very kind of you to say.” Nut entered the room proper, allowed the door to close behind him, and he took a seat in a high-backed chair opposite of where Secundus sat. “How are you, Secundus? It has been awhile, has it not?”
“Indeed, a bit too long, but then again, I’ve been busy, just as you no doubt have.”
“How is officer training?” Nut asked of his old schoolmate.
“Coming to a premature end,” Secundus replied. “I’ll be completing my training in the field.”
Nut did nothing to hide his scowl when he heard this. “Secundus…”
“Let us not quarrel, Nut.” For a moment, Secundus’ face revealed his state of upset, but his neutral demeanour was quickly restored. “I am Secundus, the second-born. My brother, Primus, was first born. He is to inherit my father’s title, the estate, and our great many responsibilities. It is my job to defend everything we hold dear. I’ll not be the one to break the chain. The tradition will hold.”
Again, Nut said, “Secundus…”
“Still rebelling about birthrights, I see.” Something that was almost—but not quite—a smile spread across Secundus’ muzzle. “There’s no escaping what we are, Nut. Some of us are born with debt—”
“It shouldn’t be that way,” Nut snapped. “It is a relic of a bygone era. The second brother was sent away to die on foreign soil so he wouldn’t be a threat to the firstborn’s inheritance. This is wrong, and you’re wrong for doing it.”
“We pay our debts sometimes.”
“The debt shouldn’t even exist.” Nut found himself almost pleading with his dear old friend. “Break tradition, Secundus, I beg of you. This war isn’t like the others in our past.”
“No, it’s worse. Worse than any of us knows.” There was a soft sigh followed by a gentle nod of Secundus’ head. “You are still the pony I remember. My perfect enemy.”
“Secundus?”
“You are, Nut. I could never best you in a duel.” Secundus’ half-smile changed to a broad, toothy grin that almost went from ear to ear. “We used to fight for hours. I never did find a way to pierce your defenses. It used to infuriate me.”
“You have something I lack, and that is magic. Bring magic to bear and you would best me with ease, Secundus. I fear I wouldn’t stand much chance against a wizard, as I have no means to defend myself from magic.”
“I think you sell yourself short, friend.” Still grinning, his eyes twinkling with merriment, Secundus spent a moment chuckling. “Do you still do that slide thing that you do?”
“Of course,” Nut replied without hesitation. “And no, I’ll not tell you how I do it.”
“It’s creepy, you know. Seeing you move like that. The fact that you are perfectly still, but sliding across the floor as if it were ice. And without the visible use of magic. It is quite unnatural and just thinking about it gives me the shivers.” The grin vanished and Secundus’ face grew stern. “How do you do it? I must know. Really, I must know.”
“Prepare to live with disappointment, Secundus.”
“I would duel you for it, Nut, but we both know it would end in a draw.” Leaning back into his cushion, Secundus sighed and for a moment, his good-natured mask broke. Sorrow was plainly visible on his face, but the breach was fast repaired. “We pay our debts sometimes.”
“Those words seem to have stuck in your mind,” Nut remarked.
“They give my life meaning,” Secundus replied. “Like it or not, you have a debt too.”
“Debt or no, I’m not telling you how I do The Slide.”
Again, Secundus chuckled, but this time it sounded a bit strained. A curious merry intensity could be seen in his eyes, but this gregariousness was tempered by the taut muscles in Secondus’ jaw. “As a noble, you were born into debt, Nut. You, me, my brother, Primus, all of my siblings, we all have a debt. We are the best that Equestria has to offer… but unlike the poor and the working class, you and I, we have ways and means, Nut. We’re born into a life of power and privilege. We owe them, Nut. That is our debt. We owe them the very best of ourselves that we have to offer. Every resource has been made available to us, given to us because of the circumstances of our birth, and so we owe. We pay our debts sometimes.”
Nut, who had already convinced himself of this long ago, did not disagree. In fact, he wondered if his sentiment had spread to Secundus. He’d certainly infected Pod’s thinking. With his front hooves resting upon the arms of his chair, he studied his old friend, and thought of happier, more carefree days. They’d been chums. Playmates. Almost brothers… but then came the day of graduation, and life pulled them in two very different directions.
Secundus chose the life of an officer, and Nut pursued biology.
“Zebrabwe, Nut. Zebrabwe. I’ll be posted at the Equestrian Embassy and Bureau of Foreign Affairs to work as a peacekeeper. I’ll be protecting our allies and our interests.” He heaved a sigh and the merriment departed from his eyes. “They’re forming a joint peacekeeping force. A union of nations. Mustangia, Griffonstone, Equestria, Zebrabwe… others are invited to join as well. What’s left of the Abyssinian army will join our ranks. This is something spectacular, Nut, something new. Nothing quite like this has ever been done before. Our loyalty will not be to our respective nations, but to each other and the peace we hope to keep. No one involved knows how this will turn out. Best of the best, Nut. That’s what they asked for. Princess Celestia offered them me, and a number of others.”
Unsure of what to say, Nut maintained his silence.
“Saddle Arabia might still join, but they are hesitant. They want their soldiers loyal to them and them only, not some vague ideal of unity and harmony.” Tapping his front hooves together, Secundus’ brows bunched together and thin creases could be seen in the corners of his eyes. “My father is unhappy.” He paused. “No, my father is more than unhappy. I’d almost say he is furious. He doesn’t want me doing this. Keeps telling me that Equestria must come first, that we should be the priority. Right now, he and I aren’t on speaking terms.”
“I’m sorry, Secundus.”
“We pay our debts sometimes.”
This time, the words were strangely haunting and stuck into Nut’s brain like a sliver.
“I must confess, Nut… this isn’t the way I thought things would turn out. Call me sentimental, or even foolish, but I did so hope that you and I would remain together. Like brothers. We grew up together. Played with the same toys. Went to school together and we were educated together. Pod played doctor with both of us. We had such trust… such a bond. I was counting on that… hoping for it. I wanted to build my life and my career around it. But you… you didn’t want to be a soldier… or even a diplomat. You went off in a direction where there was no conceivable way to keep us together. Now I face this future of mine all alone. I had such hopes and dreams, Nut. Together, we could have done great things. Like brothers.”
Even though he very much wanted to say something, Nut found that he could not.
The tea parlour was suddenly too small a room, too claustrophobic, too confined. Nut felt like he needed space, something wide open, without walls or ceilings. What this meant for their friendship remained unknown, but Nut was aware that some friendships never survived beyond graduation. Ponies grew up and then moved on with their adult lives, which sometimes took them in unexpected or otherwise different directions. Secundus, it seemed, had planned for a life together, while Nut made plans only for himself.
Guilt felt like a debt waiting to be paid.
He could feel his innards clenching. What was he doing with his life? While he was turning a wrench to pay for university and struggling to survive, to make a point, his foalhood friend was about to go off to war. Off to make history. It stung a little. Secundus was about to earn a spot in the history books. Meanwhile, Nut found himself struggling to scrape up enough coins to buy ale and chowder. What of his priorities? Secundus was about to go off and live a life of service, while Nut struggled to prove the validity of an ideal.
To what end?
“Pod wasn’t the same after you left, Nut. She kept saying that you’d come around, surely you’d come around, you just needed more time.” Secundus’ voice grew husky. “She kept telling all of us that you’d come to your senses eventually, and that her patience would be rewarded. Then, you left for university. In the middle of the night. Off you went, and you left us all behind. Not even a goodbye, Nut. Can I ask why?”
“You can ask, sure,” Nut replied.
“Nut… I feel like I’m owed an answer. You might not tell me how you do that slide of yours, and that’s fine… but you owe me. You scarpered off in the middle of the night. With only what you could fit into a suitcase. Why?”
We pay our debts sometimes, Nut thought to himself.
Annoyed, frustrated, his lip curled back into a sneer. This lasted for only but a second, and Nut’s hard shell of composure was quickly restored. He stared at a window of illusion, unable to look his friend in the eye, and wondered what he should say. If anything should be said at all. Something inside ached, and it felt a bit like betrayal. Pod had told him that she was fine with everything, that everything was good between them, and that he had nothing to worry about.
Then, he realised, what right did he have to feel betrayed?
He was the one that had broke off their betrothal.
Which rather made him the betrayer, and not the betrayee.
“How is it, Nut, that you can look so alone in a room full of ponies?” Secundus asked. “I’ve never understood that. When we were together, no matter how close we were, even piled up on a couch in the most compromising of positions, you somehow managed to seem alone. Apart. Even touching, there was a distance that could never be overcome.”
“Secundus, I am sorry.”
“When we served as pages in the castle, you were hardly ever seen. It was like you were invisible—”
“I was trained to remain unnoticed, unseen.”
“Don’t make excuses, Nut. That might work on the common idiot, but that won’t fly with me. I was trained to notice the unnoticeable. You and I, we’re phantoms. Ghosts. Spectres. We’d make damn fine burglars, you and I.”
With his eyes on the illusionary window, Nut sighed.
“I am about to be shipped off, Nut. The opportunity of a lifetime presented itself. You came home. And I came here for some answers. Some closure. Are you really going to let me go away not knowing?”
He thought of what his mother had said just a few hours ago, about his life being like having excellent credit and taking on a loan. About money up front and payments over time. He’d told her that sometimes ponies skip out on their loan payments. But not you, Nut, she had told him, followed by her mentioning that she couldn’t stand his irrationality over all of this.
Something about the sudden flash of anger felt noodly, though Nut could not say how or why. He kept it buried though, so the world wouldn’t have to see nor know about it. Anger was the enemy and above all else, he would remain passive. He was a sheathed sword. Which, he felt, was his problem. His debt. A terrible birthright that he’d never asked for. An inheritance of ill-fortune, from the bitch godmother, Destiny. Secundus reveled in his gift for violence. Every weapon was his friend. Why, even Secundus’ mark reflected this, a sword, a morningstar mace, and an axe, the trifecta of weapons.
A borne assassin.
Gifted with artistic violence.
A sword made perfect, honed, and ready to draw blood.
Only to remain sheathed.
Outright rejection as a foal, feared, mistrusted.
Yet, as a young adult, all of the whispers that he could do more.
He could do great things.
How terrible those great things would be.
Those who feared him as foal were now disappointed with him for not doing more.
For not serving country.
To remain in his sheath was the greatest of sins.
After taking a deep breath, he said to his foalhood friend, “I do apologise—”
“So that’s it then?” Secundus sat there, blinking, incredulous.
Nut nodded.
“If I thought I could survive it, I’d cave your skull in.”
His eyes never left the window, but his muscles all went taut. Nut knew his friend was angry—but surely it wouldn’t come to violence. Secundus was a force to be reckoned with, and a skilled wizard as well. The lesson taught to him by his beloved professor was still fresh in his mind, a painful lesson that now felt far too relevant. Never take what you cannot possibly give back. That was a debt too. He waited, fearful that this could go all kinds of wrong. But his eyes never left the window, because the sight of his friend would be too painful to bear.
“Goodbye, Nut. I had so hoped that our friendship would survive beyond foalhood, but this does not seem to be the case. Keep your secrets. Withhold yourself. I spent all that time telling Pod that she had to move on, and now it seems that I must follow my own advice. Farewell.”
With a swift, fluid motion, Secundus fled the room—and then was gone.
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I... don't get what he's not telling? Or why he's not telling it? It's all really confusing.
9758301
The text is there. He says why.
9758328
*rereads it a fourth time* Anger issues? Is that why he left? It still doesn't seem to fit but that's all I can find.
9758332
He's given plenty of reasons in other chapters. Little hints. Thoughts. Things said to others. There are little bits of his personality scattered about everywhere.
9758337
I mean, I thought I was getting some sense of his personality and I really didn't expect him to blow Secundus off since I didn't think it was any secret why he left. It seemed like he was happy to tell everyone else he met about his motivations.
That's why it was confusing.
9758342
It is the same reason why he wants to visit the Gallopagos. So he can shrug off responsibility and personal connections. He has an excuse to never get involved. It's more than this though.
Nut seems to be grappling with some conflicting ideologies here. Caliginous Dark reminds Nut of the inherent goodness of choosing not to do harm, as taking a life can bring great damage on oneself as well as others. Secundus reminds Nut that they are in the midst of an incredible war, and that such violence can be used to save a lot of lives. Furthermore, Nut is incredibly capable of helping this cause, and there was a lot of investment put into him by others who care about him in support of this future. He has been trained, he is stated to be on par with Secundus in terms of combat skill... yet he is choosing to not use those skills, to be a sheathed sword.
Nut likely feels an incredible resentment for having his life planned out for him without regard to what he really wanted to do with it, but also likely feels an immense guilt because he does feel that he owes society after receiving so much due to the privilege he was born into and the investment put into him. The life he has been living has made it easier to ignore these problems, as he was choosing to live by his own values. There may be a lot of value to that, but it's also led to a lot of hurt back home, and now Nut has to confront the hurt that his actions has caused in others while also confronting the guilt of not using his vast potential to enact great change, while also struggling to contain the resentment for being born into this situation. He often says that he won the lottery of birth, but he never seems very happy about it. I get the feeling that Nut's shell is going to crack sooner than later, and that it's going to be an important step in his growth as a character. You can only bottle these things for so long before they burst.
Nut seems to run from things he doesn't like a lot and I think I'm starting to get where it's coming from. He has major anger issues that took a lot of work balance out and made him very conflict avoidant, because conflict, physical or emotional, leads to anger very easily and he was taught and trained to restrain himself as much as possible. He ran from his marriage and his home in an attempt to distance himself from the control he feels is present in every aspect of his life, but he isn't the one IN control and that messes with his head. I think that's why he chose to help Tater Blossom because he can still do good and still be noble but it isn't at the behest of anyone but himself and his promises. Returning to Canterlot has forced him to come face-to-face with his past betrayals and broken promises and the guilt he feels over having abandoned "the greater good" that his parents envisioned him serving.
I think Tater Blossom is the best thing that could've happened to Nut, he has, at least on a smaller scale, somebody who is less privileged than him that he feels he can help in a meaningful way but isn't constrained by the controlling establishment he's always known. He holds firm to his ideals and his commitment to Hickory to watch over Tater so strongly because he feels he can redeem himself of some of his past sins and maybe assuage some of the guilt he now feels, having had much of them thrown in his face in this last chapter. He's distanced himself from his past to avoid the hurt associated with what he's done and how it can't really be undone, and to avoid the responsibility of dealing with the emotional problems it's left in its wake but finds himself wanting for a higher calling. He opened himself up to a personal connection with Tater because he misses connecting with another person enough to risk being burnt for it.
I'm really high so this might be complete BS but i see a lot of myself in Nut so i figured id throw in my perspective
I have to say, this chapter is chock full of fun quotables. That breaking dawn joke was pretty funny!
But also this
The whole thing had a vibe about it, but the last sentence with spines and necks really stuck out to me. Is that already an existing expression I missed or did you conjure this up yourself? Either way it really stuck out as something meaningful.
side note, unrelated to most anything, when he felt his "noodley anger" at Secundus it reminded me again of his draconequus dream. Which in turn reminds me of how noodley their own spines are.
speaking of, wondering what Discord is doing in the war, or if he's a non-participant for reasons. All this draconequus-ness gives me gentle reminders that he exists somehow.
Anywho, thanks for the chapter, enchanting as always!
9759615
I borrowed heavily from Victorian Era beliefs. There was a huge focus on spines and posture. Corsets made for virtuous women.
9759621
I see, fascinating.
...fuck now I am just thinking do Canterlot nobles wear "horsets" like a dingus
Peanut-brain needs a good boxing about the ears and a lecture on the dangers (and ultimate futility) of keeping secrets.