Of Providence and Plain

by GrangeDisplay

Profit

Days tended to be long and grueling for young Igneous Rock Pie, but he had to make the most of those fleeting hours. He rose before the sun and worked long after it set until his body refused to work anymore. He needed money, and he needed it quickly.

The rocks he produced were of excellent quality; he used his magic exactly how his father had taught him, the same way his forefathers and foremothers had done for eons. He called into the ground upon which his ancestors had cultivated and subsisted for generations and created miracles. Yet, he could not find any stone capable of appeasing the ponies of Rockville.

It was a busy day at the Rockville Market. Igneous could count up to thirty ponies, a grand departure from the usual fifteen. He gave his stall one last look over. Usually, being surrounded by this many ponies would make him uneasy, but he hoped that their presence meant increased sales. He would use the profits to secure an appointment for his father and maybe fix the windmill.

One cursory look around showed a group of ponies that were foreign to Rockville. They were outsiders commonly referred to as the ‘Equish’ by the Plain ponies of Western Equestria. Igneous could tell by the groups' coats and manes alone.

The Plain Ponies tended to resemble the environment that they lived in; their coats and manes had earthy tones and muted colors. Ponies in the area styled themselves conservatively and reasonably. There was only one pony in the group of vibrant colors that could pass for Plain: a young mare with a light gray coat and a muted blue mane. She stood at the center of the group, speaking to them amicably.

Igneous looked like most of the stallions around Rockville: he had amber eyes and a light brown coat. He wore a black tie over a collar, and a black hat with a white band. There was something recognizable about her, but he could not place the face with a name. A part of his tired brain desired to analyze his memory and identify her, but he was too busy to ruminate on other ponies.

He would have forgotten her and her friends’ presence had she not broken from the group and spoken to him. Her refined voice disturbed his thoughts as the rims of her glasses gleamed around her cyan eyes. A breeze blew her steel blue mane gently.

Her hooves hovered above his produce as she raised an eyebrow. “What might this be?” she brought her face closer to get a better look.

“Tis limestone ma’am,” Igneous provided with a resolute nod.

She hummed as she tentatively took one of the limestones into her hooves and inspected it. Igneous allowed her to do as she wished. He was far from talkative, so he preferred to let the goods speak for themselves.

The unforgiving sun was bearing down on the ponies of the Plain, and the cloudless sky and barren landscape offered little refuge. Igneous conscientiously removed his hat, intending not to draw too much attention. He used his hoof to smooth back his purple mane before swiftly putting it back on.

Igneous' thoughts drifted until the mare held up the limestone with an expectant expression.

“I find thy limestone supply exquisite. I request five samples at thy soonest convenience.”

The price for five samples would put him over his goal for the day. Igneous bowed his head slightly, overjoyed by his good fortune.

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The door let out a prolonged creak as Igneous entered the Pie family homestead. He and his father, Feldspar Granite Pie, had been the sole residents of the Pie Rock Farm for the majority of his life.

His father’s wheezing emanated from the living room. It would be an hour or two before sunset, and he had no time to waste. He swallowed his hesitation and followed the noise.

Feldspar Pie sat in his favorite lounge chair, which blended into his dark brown coat. In the past, he had been strong and bulky. But now, he was an atrophied body struggling to breathe through smokey lungs.

Igneous stuck to the entryway as he waited for his father’s coughing fit to end.

Feldspar wearily eyed his son. “What art thee doing here? Shouldst thee not be in the field, completing thy work?”

Igneous tried to ignore his father’s glare. “Aye father. I am here to inform thee that I hath acquired the funds to receiveth visitation from a doctor.”

“A doctor? There art no doctors here. I refuse to depart from our home! I shall not be treated by the Equish. I am Plain, I shall stay with mine ponies!” Feldspar sputtered, trying and failing to get out of his seat.

His short outburst left him winded and out of breath. Igneous took the opportunity to explain further, “This doctor is not Equish. He is liketh us. Thee knoweth the gent, Dr. Burdock Boil. We useth his ointment for burns. He travels the West helping our ponies, and he hath returned to Rockville.”

The elder Pie rubbed his chin as he thought it over. “Thee speaketh of the stallion who madeth the B&W ointment?”

Igneous nodded his head. “Aye father.”

Igneous hoped that the conversation was over, but it seemed that Feldspar had another issue.

The old stallion cursed under his breath. “Ei, ei, ei. I doth not needeth treatment son. I hast faith that all shalt transpire as it shouldst."

All shalt transpire as it shouldst because I shall make it so. Igneous thought as the day’s stressors became apparent on his body.

Irritated by a lack of resignation, Feldspar scowled at Igneous and forcefully spat black sputum onto the floor. “What gives thee the power to order me around? Why doth thee insist that I be saved?”

Leave it to Feldspar Pie to question why a son might want to save his father. Feldspar scooped up his favorite book, worn and torn from years of devoted usage. The old tome was full of scriptures and verses about the importance of unity and harmony.

For as long as Igneous could remember, his father had been obsessed with studying every written word in that book. The elderly stallion’s fixation had only intensified since his illness debilitated him. The only significant difference was that he could no longer work the fields.

Igneous saw it as a small mercy. His father tended to complain and was only pacified when he was doing something ‘more important’. Despite the lack of time that Igneous had in a day, he made an effort to get his father to congregation. It was common knowledge that nopony was quite as devout as Feldspar Pie. Although, this was a given since nopony had to atone quite like Feldspar Pie.

Igneous Pie placed his hat back on his head, opting to leave his father’s question unanswered.

“Farewell father,” he mumbled, trying to part as respectfully as he could. In Igneous’ eyes, it was inadmissible to show any sign of disrespect or belligerence when in the presence of his father. Even now, as his father sat wasting away, that demanding scowl the elderly stallion wore still made Igneous feel insignificant. But, they only had each other.

Igneous knew that his life was nothing more than working too hard, caring for a miserable stallion, and occupying a dilapidated home on a barren plot of land. But he loved his work, and he loved that stallion, and he loved his home, and he loved that barren land, and he would do anything to save them.

He decided that he would use the rest of the daylight to complete his chores on the farm, then he would make his father dinner, and then spend the night tidying up the house for Dr. Boil's visit. Dr. Boil was a rarity in places like Rockville. He was a native Rockvillian raised in the ways of the Plain and accommodating to the culture and practices.

Igneous stepped into the kitchen and was pleased to see that it was relatively tidy save for the collection of invoices from the bank. Igneous tried not to grow overwhelmed as he stacked the crumbled unpaid bills and hid them in a cabinet. It was a troubling sight, but not an unfamiliar one. They had come close to missing their dues many times throughout Igneous’ life, although it was becoming more frequent since Feldspar fell ill.

His father was depending on him, and Igneous refused to let him down. Dr. Boil’s services were not cheap, but he was the best option. Igneous would not prioritize his farm over his father’s health, even if his father disagreed. His good luck at the market covered the consultation fee and gave a little extra to put towards a new rotor for the windmill.

He opened the kitchen door and overlooked the vast field covered in speckles of gray.

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The energy around the dinner table was about as excitable as one could get from the average Rockvillians. A special occasion brought two families of old friends together to celebrate their bond and accomplishments. Dr. Burdock Boil stood up and tapped his glass to gather everypony’s attention.

“I wouldst liketh to taketh a moment to thank the Mill family for hosting mine own family while we stayeth in Rockville. It is at each moment a pleasure to returneth to our birthplace, but it is a blessing to be in the company of friends.” He raised his glass, “May Providence bless our families for generations to come. And may we accept those blessings with equanimity.”

Burdock raised his glass one final time and drank its contents with satisfaction. As he sat down, his wife, Rose Quartz, took up his hoof with her own. She smiled at him fondly, warming his old heart to its very core. She knew that his words were disingenuous, but he put up a convincing performance.

The couple had traveled Western Equestria for years now, hopping from one gray town to another. Rose lifted the ponies' spirits with her beautiful voice while Burdock healed them with his expertise. In truth, the ponies of Rockville were not too different from the ponies in the other Plain communities, but there was something about his hometown that irritated Burdock to no end. At least, in other places, he could pretend that his life was progressing.

But in Rockville, it was obvious that nothing had changed since the day he was born. His wife hummed a happy melody to herself while Rod Mill, the patriarch of the Mill family, recounted his day's activities to the group. Burdock silently admired her song as he studied his plate, then he noticed that the table was set for eight, but there were only seven present.

Burdock held his tongue, not wanting to draw attention to the absence. But it seemed that Rod Mill’s eldest son, Stamp Mill, held no such regard for decorum.

The young stallion interrupted his father’s story with an inquiry, “Dr. Burdock, where might Cloudy be this evening?”

Stamp’s mother, Arrastra, shot her son a disapproving look. “Oh, hush Stamp. Doth not fret over poor Cloudy liketh that. She is trying to maketh the most of her time at home. I am certain that she is simply exhausted after her long journey and spending all day touring her classmates through town.”

Rose Quartz wiped her pale pink muzzle with her napkin and looked at Arrastra with gratitude. “Aye, young Stamp. It hast been a long day for her and I feareth that she hast gotten caught up in her interest again. She hath shown me quite a quaint limestone that she purchased at the market today. I am certain that her studious mind refuses to let her focus on anything else.”

Burdock rested his chin against his hoof. “I recall her insisting that she returneth home to ‘be in the presence of her beloved mother and father,’ not to lock herself away,” he muttered, quoting the letter written by his daughter weeks before her academic break.

Rose maintained a characteristic smile. “She is home. Just as you go about your passions while at home, as doest your progeny. She is at her business, leaveth her be.”

Conveniently enough, at that moment Cloudy Quartz finally arrived. She greeted her family and friends before sitting down.

“Good evening everypony. I apologize for mine own tardiness. I hope that this late entrance is not a disturbance to thy dining experience.”

Rod Mill shook his head and stood to pull her seat out for her. “Not a disturbance in the slightest young Cloudy. Thy presence is always a pleasure in this household.”

With that minor distraction out of the way, the rest of the dinner went well. However, though one might think that Cloudy words were sufficient, to some, it was not enough.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

After dinner, the respective families returned to their rooms. Everypony was exhausted, yet Burdock still found the energy to be irritated. He paced around the Mills’ guest room and muttered to himself while Rose watched him round the room for the twenty-somethingth time from one of two guest beds.

“I bid thee, these ponies art just as dull and backward as I recall,” Burdock sneered.

His words were harsh, but it was nothing that Rose Quartz had not heard before. She massaged her temple and spoke soothingly, “This is our home, and these art our ponies. Didst thee not enjoy today’s festivities?”

He loosened the tie around his neck and sighed in resignation. He and Rose had known Rod and Arrastra since they were foals. Yet, he found with each meeting, it was getting harder to tolerate his lifelong friends.

He stopped his pacing and focused his attention on another more pressing matter. “And where is mine own daughter?”

“I believe that she is speaking with Stamp Mill at the moment or studying those rocks of hers,” Rose explained.

Burdock tapped his hoof against the floor, punctuating each word as he spoke, “She shouldst be focusing on succeeding at her studies, not on drossy pursuits.”

“There is nothing drossy about one’s destiny, Burdock,” Rose Quartz snapped. This was not the first time they had had this conversation, and it probably would not be the last. But Rose preferred that they have, at least, one night where the semblance of peace was upheld.

When Cloudy finally returned, she placed her saddlebag on the second guest bed and looked around the room lazily. The room was tense, and she knew that she had a choice to make, so she chose to make things worse.

“Good evening beloved mother,” she greeted with a sickeningly sweet voice, “and good evening father.”

Burdock snorted indignantly. “And this is what thee learned at the academy? Thy companions did teach thee that it is acceptable to scorn thy parents?”

Cloudy made herself comfortable on her bed as she glanced at her father with disinterest. “Twas to mine own understanding that I was to learneth from mine own peers and become more liketh them. Was that not thy intention in sending me away to school?”

“I didst desire that thee wouldst learneth from thy peers…while retaining thy manners.” He looked to his wife, hoping to find some sort of support. Seeing no reinforcement in his future, he waged on alone, “And we didst not sendeth thee there. Thee were accepted due to thy natural brilliance and ambition. I adviseth thee to wasteth neither on trivial matters.”

The young mare raised an eyebrow as she considered her father’s words. “And when thee speaketh of trivial matters,” she questioned, “doth thee refer to mine own ‘drossy pursuits’ or the act of conversing with thee?”

To the outside observer, it would seem as if the guest room was overtaken by a resolute and icy silence, but this could not be further from the truth. Words and sentences buzzed inside Burdock’s and Cloudy’s heads as they reloaded their weapons of choice.

But before any exchange of vitriol occurred, both sides were silenced by the incensed command of Rose Quartz, “Be silent and settle down this instant!”

The matron remained seated on the bed as she scolded her husband and daughter. Her sonorous voice maintained a subdued cadence as she spoke her mind, “As I hast grown older, it hast become rare for me to be in the presence of mine own family, yet mine own husband and daughter continue to bicker. I hadst desired that we all might enjoyeth our time together in peace.”

The older mare threw up her hooves in woe. “But it appears that I was wrong. My Providence! Useth thy light to guideth me through the darkness! How hast I failed so greatly as a wife and mother that such disharmony hast festered in mine own family!”

Sorrowful sobs replaced sweet songs as Rose buried her head in her hooves. The father and daughter knew that Rose was a masterful manipulator, a high accolade coming from two ponies that were also masterful manipulators. Nonetheless, their hearts ached at the sight of Rose’s displeasure. The duo eyed each other, agreeing on an unspoken armistice.

Burdock cleared his throat and spoke gently, “Beloved, I apologize greatly,” he turned to his daughter, “and to mine own daughter, I apologize. I am happy to be home and in thy presence.”

Cloudy nodded, appreciating her father for going first. “I too owe an apology to thee, my beloved father. It was improper for me to arrive to dinner late, and I apologize for slighting thee.”

Rose clapped her hooves with a broad grin that her husband and daughter did not return. “Now that we hath accounted for our faults, let us prepare for bed.”

Despite playing a role in escalating the tension in the room, Cloudy was glad that things were simmering down. Her father could be a pest when he wanted to, but Cloudy still adored him. His intellect and wit alone earned her respect, but he also possessed the heart of a healer. Cloudy hoped that in time, her father would see the merits of her convictions.

Cloudy's thoughts drifted to the limestone waiting in her saddlebags. Limestone was not particularly rare, but the piece that she had acquired was well cultivated. Had she not been distracted by her friends’ chattering she would have asked the farmer his name. The carbonate was a darker shade of gray with an exquisite blend of calcite and aragonite. As a raw material, it was valued for its reliability and strength. Agriculture, architecture, preservation, and more. It remained, long-lasting, and dependable.

She closed her eyes, challenging her senses to feel the limestones' presence within the room. Her father seemed to read her mind. The gears in his head began to spin as he thought of a graceful solution.

He turned to his daughter and disrupted her deep concentration. “If thou art so fascinated by the life of a Rock Farmer, then I shall show thee the life of a Rock Farmer.”

Burdock's confidence grew as his words caught Cloudy's attention, “In a few days, I intendeth to visit the Pie Family Rock Farm and holdeth consultation. Accompany me, and thee shall seeth first hoof what it entails.”