16. Growing Pains VI – Home Stretch
July 26th, 998.
“Mmm,” Lyra exclaimed around a mouthful of breakfast. “This is good! Thank you, Adam!”
“No need to thank me,” I said, in between destroying an omelette on my own plate. “Just figured I’d treat you with one of my favourites.” I wasn’t entirely sure where Construct had the bright idea to buy eggs, but I was still grateful for it. It’d been too long since I’d gotten some; I still missed the days when my parents kept chickens, back home, and I could get away with four eggs every morning.
This time, I’d made Lyra some French toast – granted, the country peasant version, which was essentially just fried eggy bread with some salt, but compared to what we’d had to eat just weeks ago it was practically ambrosia.
It was also terribly indulgent, I knew, but… we’d had enough come in to be able to afford some waste, and so I’d increased the rations for the whole settlement. I figured with the foraging and our surplus, we could afford to start recovering from malnutrition – so that it’ll be starting from scratch when we run out again, my inner cynic whispered in my head… which came up to about four-fifths of me – and so start expanding our great nation once again.
Our plates were emptied rapidly. Soon, Lyra had finished the washing up while I was preoccupied with staring off into space – an activity that was rudely interrupted when the two kiddos came tumbling in.
“Mommy! Daddy!” The two hellions separated, Wish going for me and Bowmound clamping around Lyra.
“Good morning, Wish,” I muttered, reaching down to pat her on the head – and attempt to pry her off of me before she cut off my circulation without success. I suspected Lyra was having similar issues with her own foal, judging by the grunt of discomfort that had come out of her. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yes,” said Wish, nodding eagerly. She looked up at me with pleading red eyes. “What are you doing today, Daddy?”
“Nothing’s on the agenda today, as far as I recall,” I said. “Why?”
“Can we go explore the woods today, please?” I blinked. “Please please please!”
Uh…
I turned to Lyra, who was fending off similar requests from the colt, until she spotted me staring at her, to which she gave me a little smile and nodded her head at me. Bowmound took the hint and ran over to me to grip my other leg.
“Can we? Can we?” the colt joined in with the pleading. The tugging at my pants was getting quite bothersome.
“I don’t see why not,” I told them. “As long as you don’t get lost.”
“No!” whined the twosome, in unison. Wish continued on. “We wanna go with you! And Mommy!”
I blinked again, this time a little harder, suppressing a sigh. I was still not a big fan of the idea of being a parent that Lyra pushed on me. Probably a small discussion was in order… except, as I thought more and more about it, I realised that I didn’t really have many arguments against it. Not ones that made me out as a rational human being, at any rate.
“Alright, kiddos,” I relented. “After you eat your breakfast, we can go for a walk together. How’s that sound?”
“Awesome!” shouted Bowmound, leaping up and down while still grabbing on to my leg. “Thanks, Daddy, you’re the best!”
Yeah. Sure. Fortunately, Lyra had already whipped something up beforehand for the two, before I’d even gotten out of bed – huh, why didn’t she make something for herself before I did? – the foals already receiving the two levitating plates. I shot Lyra a glance and tilted my head out to my front door. Fortunately, she took the hint.
“Behave, kids,” she told them. “Wash up after yourselves.” She trotted out ahead of me, and outdoors. I gently shut the door behind me.
“What is it, Adam?”
I gave her a flat stare. “You know damn well what this is about, Lyra. What are you playing at?”
“Me?” asked Lyra, putting a hoof on her chest as if wounded. “What are you talking about? I’m not ‘playing at’ anything.”
“Excuse me if I remain unconvinced,” I said. “I just can’t help but smell some bullshit. Now that we’re doing more-or-less alright, all of a sudden the foals are all smiles and affection-”
“They’re foals,” she replied, taking a step forwards, growing heated. “They’re always like that. What’s the matter with you?”
“What’s the matter with me?” I was incredulous. “Maybe it’s the fact that you’re pushing me into something I don’t want to do against my will, and something which I am nowhere near qualified or suitable for! I didn’t want to say this in front of the foals, but I am not-”
Lyra cut me off once again. “Then I will.”
I paused, for a short time. All at once, the tattered remains of my good mood went flushing down the shitter. “…Don’t push me, Lyra,” I spat. “I will throw you back into Canterlot myself.”
The sight of her stiffening like a board brought me a twisted sense of satisfaction. I turned away and began to pace back and forth, trying to clear my head.
Eurgh. I never was a fan of things being forced onto me, particularly when it involved responsibility. Sure, the Free State was certainly a commitment and a half, but… I could table that as professional business, to be considered only when I clocked in, wearing my best formal and with a briefcase in my hand… so to speak. Some of the decisions in that regard might have made my life a little more unpleasant, but hey; that’s politics for you.
Foals, though… that was a little close for comfort. Raising children wasn’t something I could do in shifts, for fuck’s sake – not to mention education, manners, safety, there really was an awful lot of things to consider, and it was a certainty that I’d fuck it up in one way or another, one day – and those consequences were going to be much more personal than anything the Free State could have served me. Even with Lyra helping me out, which she was quite happy to do regardless, and even with the foals living with me already… and even with them having nothing else…
I squeezed my eyes shut. My resistance, previously so stalwart and impenetrable, began to crumble, as I began considering the idea a little more seriously. Really, what was the difference between seven hundred residents and two children? Hell, they were already there, under my protection… all it would really mean was taking a bit more of a hands-on approach with those two. Even – especially with Lyra helping me out…
“Adam,” said Lyra from behind me, making me jump. I’d apparently stopped pacing, and was now staring down at the ground, lost in thought. Lyra walked up to face me head-on, head held high and a determined frown creasing her brow. “They already saw you in that role, all by themselves. I didn’t even suggest it. Just like they started seeing me as a mother figure. Would it really be such a big a change to your life? What would one more be?”
I shook my head. “…They see you as their mother?”
“…Yes?” Then, she shook her head also. “Don’t change the subject. You-”
“See,” I began, in a faintly mocking tone. “What you’re trying to do now is push me into it. I thought you said you weren’t playing at anything. C’mon, keep up.”
“Would you rather not care about them?”
Immediately, all sound ceased. The wind stopped blowing, the trees stopped rustling. Even the breaths I could hear coming out of both of us stopped, like time itself had given up and gone home. Lyra stood still, practically petrified, under my scalding glare.
I stood there like that for a long, long time. Neither of us dared anything further. Personally, it wasn’t for lack of trying; I was about five syllables away from going off like a supernova. Fortunately, I was always good at repressing shit. The trembling in my hands slowly ebbed off into nothing, and I turned my organic vise back into a jaw, checking with my tongue just in case I’d accidentally chipped any teeth with the force.
The parallel, I finally reflected once my brain was flash-cooled again, was not lost on me. Fuck the logistics of it, fuck my own opinion on my parental abilities, fuck it all to hell. The question I still hadn’t asked myself, the one I refused to ask myself for fear of what the answer was going to turn out to be…
What sort of person would I be, if I said yes? If I did take those two orphan kids under my wing? Gave them a home and a family?
Of course, I already knew the answer: a good one.
A better one.
“…two little kids showing up at my door, asking for a bed under a roof and a full stomach,” I muttered, deflating. “God damn it, Lyra. You are just too good at reminding me what a good person I am.”
“I wouldn’t have to if you remembered yourself,” she said, smirking.
I laughed. “Well, I guess you’ve got me there. Fine, I’ll… I guess I can work on it.”
And not a moment too soon was it declared so, as my front door was practically broken down by the two hyper-active foals, immediately swarming around us like hornets. Just as before, Wish made a beeline for me, and Bowmound jumped onto Lyra’s back, which quickly sent me into a giggle fit.
“Are we gonna go now?” chorused the two foals, just slightly out of sync. Lyra craned her head back this way and that, trying to lay eyes on her new passenger.
“I don’t know,” said Lyra, with mock-thoughtfulness. “Have you done everything I asked you to?”
“Uh-huh!” exclaimed Bowmound. “We ate breakfast and washed the plates and made our beds and Wish knocked over a chair and I had to pick it up again!”
“Did not!”
“Did too!”
“Did not!”
“Did too!”
“Alright, alright,” I said, reaching down to pat Wish on the head again – then, seeing her reach up with both forelegs, pick her up and cradle her in my arms like a cat. “Since you’ve been good kids.” I threw Lyra a glance, suppressed another giggle at seeing the colt on her back pull a heroic pose, and shared a quiet smile with her. “Shall we?”
August 17th, 998.
“Good morning to you all,” I said, to the nine ponies assembled before me in front of the saw mill. “Welcome to the Free State. I assume Ambassador Blueblood has already filled you in on the general details here? Good.” Blueblood levitated his notes on the crowd over to me, which I quickly read off.
“Okay…” Three each of the tribes were before me, six stallions and three mares. They weren’t related, at least according to Blueblood. Their talents weren’t anything to write home about, except the one with a quill and a scroll for a cutie mark, which I immediately made note of to headhunt later.
One more glaring addition to Blueblood’s mini-census stood out to me like a beacon. The last name on the list was underlined, with a note: ‘ask to stay.’
I looked up at the pony in question. He was a typical pegasus stallion, with an almost neon-blue colour, and had a disinterested look about him. I imagined if he were human, he’d have been slouching. I couldn’t get a good look at his mark, but at the angle I had, I could at least see that it mustn’t have been very large. Perhaps he didn’t even have one – there were a few cases like that here.
I lost myself in the routine of orienting the arrivals. The prospect of editing my paper records filled me with glee, since it gave me about twenty minutes or so of feeling like I was actually doing something productive. Nothing particularly stood out to me as suspect, unless I counted Blueblood giving that stallion the stink-eye while pretending he was doing it to all of them – which I of course did.
Once my spiel had run its course, I nodded to the group. “Thank you for your time, ponies. If you have any more questions, please don’t hesitate to ask either me or the Ambassador, we’d be happy to help you. You… mmm, actually, er… Boosted Stack, was it? Could I have a few moments more of your time? The rest of you are free to go. Don’t forget to check in with Construct!”
The eight soon dispersed, leaving Blueblood and I with the mystery guest. Stack continued to look like he didn’t have a care in the world, this time making alarm bells ring in my head for real. I’d ignored it the first time, and, while it may not have ended up disastrous quite yet, I was not in the mood for taking chances. I shot a glance at the Ambassador, who nodded at me – and fired up his horn.
At once, Stack realised something was amiss, and immediately spread his wings wide, preparing to take off. Blueblood was faster, however, and with the wings splayed out like that there was no way he was going to miss. A bolt of light blue magic zipped out from Blueblood’s horn and hit Stack squarely in the middle of his left wing, freezing it in place.
The (otherwise) immutable laws of physics did the rest of the work for Blueblood, as Stack attempted to lift off with only one wing – succeeding only in pushing himself over to his side, falling directly onto his still-outstretched left wing. He let out a cry of pain as the limb folded in a manner that was obviously not natural – I winced, but it didn’t appear that anything had broken; wings must be sturdier than I had thought. Blueblood moved over at once to secure the poor sod more permanently.
I had stepped backwards as soon as the action started, and only now felt safe enough to approach once more, throwing the two an odd look. “Ambassador? Uh, Boosted Stack? What… what?”
Blueblood put a hoof on the pony’s back, working his magic into glowing ropes to restrain him. “I recognised this pony from the posters. The name was a dead give-away. This is a wanted stallion.”
“Horse manure!” shouted the restrained pony, writhing ineffectually under the Ambassador. “I didn’t do it! It was a set up! That mudpony had it in for me!”
I frowned. Well… this is certainly a first. Blueblood had been with me every time to welcome any new arrivals. He had to, after all, since it was his job. This might well have been the first time an actual dirty crim had tried to sneak their way into my Free State. As a matter of fact, this might well have been the first time I’d ever even seen a dirty crim in my entire time here. That he also seemed to be a flaming racist – that is to say, tribalist – was just icing on the cake.
Blueblood seemed to misinterpret my expression, turning to me with alarm. “First Minister! You cannot seriously be considering allowing this scum to roam freely in your state!”
“Huh?” His words caught me by surprise. It had never been my intention to allow the Free State to degenerate into a hive of scum and villainy – or, rather, criminality, since ‘villainy’ meant something decidedly more severe on Equus. To consider letting this Boosted Stack in…
“Hmm,” I hummed, pretending to consider the idea. “I’m not sure… right now, all I’m seeing is you beating up on an innocent pony, who you merely claim to be a wanted man. Stallion… whatever.”
“First Minister!” exclaimed Blueblood, appalled. I ignored him, and knelt down to Stack, looking him in the eyes.
“All the same, though,” I told him, “I can’t very well discard his words, or his actions – assuming that Blueblood is a rational being, which I have little reason to doubt. So… since you are now in the territory of the Free State, I can give you… let’s say three options.” Blueblood had taken a step back, though his profound disgust had since melted away at my words, now looking on in fascination. Stack, himself, was now wary – narrowing his eyes in a way that was at odds with his hog-tied position on the dirt. As for myself…
I saw this as quite an opportunity, to be honest. To once again display some sovereignty over my land, administering my own justice – though at the risk of doing so to technically-Equestrian citizens, which might well be a little outside my jurisdiction. To develop my own justice system a little bit, if only through informal precedent. Mostly, though, I just wanted to strike the fear of God into somepony who most assuredly deserved it. (And also to help send a message to anyone who might have thought similarly to him – crime does not pay, and it will not do so here.)
“What is it?” he asked, faintly impatient – an impressive feat, considering his position.
“Option one,” I listed off with a hand. “Since you believe yourself to be innocent, I can send you back to Equestria, where that will be determined in a court of law.” Stack had widened his eyes at this, and started shaking his head frantically – so much for being innocent, if he was afraid of the courts… unless they are of the kangaroo variety, I realised with a start – though I quickly shook it off, since that was not terribly likely.
“Option two,” I continued. “Blueblood and I may… allow you to be trialled here, in the Free State, under our laws, though with an Equestrian presence for the sake of bipartisanship. If you are found innocent, you shall be permitted to stay here – though, if not, you shall be punished… rather more severely than I imagine Equestria would have done.
“Or, option three…” I finished. “You may declare your guilt here and now, and instead of shipping you off to Equestria, or setting up a court here, I allow you to work your crimes off in service to the Free State, wherever you may be required to do so.”
I saw Blueblood inhale as I finished, ready to object to something or other, though in truth my mind was already made up on this matter. “Unfortunately for you,” I told the captured pony, “you are still an Equestrian citizen, so I can’t actually make this decision for them – not to mention I still owe Blueblood a favour. Sorry, pal.”
I stood up, ignoring Boosted’s wailing and cursing, stepping over to Blueblood, who evidently had been taken by surprise by the conclusion. “Hell, I haven’t a clue what he’s done, anyway,” I joked. “Probably just a pantry raid on Celestia’s kitchens. That’s all up to you to resolve.”
“You… you…” Blueblood worked his vocal chords for a while, attempting to form coherent sentences. “What… why?” he eventually settled on.
I gave an indifferent shrug. “I’m not foolish enough to try to pass judgment on Equestrian citizens. My people, my rules – your people, your rules. I’d never have gone through with any of the last two. I, er… I also found it quite amusing,” I confessed.
Blueblood blinked, then, seemingly writing off my nonsense, shook his head, and cheered up somewhat. “…If you say so, First Minister. I shan’t keep you any longer – I need to deal with this situation.” He looked down at the tied-up pony in the same way one would look at a ruptured garbage bag on one’s carpet. “Be seeing you.”
“See ya,” I waved, turning on my heel and walking away, mind already elsewhere.
So. That was new. We’ve got Johnny Foreigner comin’ over ‘ere…
September 14th, 998.
Construct and I were staring at the single icebox left in the dining hall that was full. It was all that remained of our once-considerable food supplies.
“Guess it was too much to hope for anyway,” I said.
I’d gotten overconfident. The sight of those enormous carts, loaded chock full of food, had been deceptive. I had thought that I could have gotten away with increasing rations across the board, easing up a little bit on our hardship. We’d had so much food come in, after all… I’d even been worried that it would have started going bad before we’d have had the chance to eat it!
My maths had been off. The foul-up had been a subtle one, admittedly, creeping up on me slowly and steadily, but it really was one I should have been capable of spotting. Even assuming a constant population, we’d have had a week, a week and a half of no food – easily weathered, with the slightly-less-than-adequate rations I’d given. But, of course, the population was not constant – this place was now home to over a thousand souls. It was elementary – just straight-up more mouths to feed than I had planned for.
By the time I’d realised my mistake, the damage had already been done. Now, only a few days’ worth remained, and harvest was still about a month away – at best. The forest had long since been cleaned out, in our immediate vicinity. Getting anything more out of it in organised parties, in any appreciable amounts, would be a multi-day-long affair, a pretty self-defeating proposition.
“Your orders, First Minister?” prompted Construct.
And wasn’t that a question and a half. How could we make days turn into a month? Hibernation? Time travel? Mmmmm-agic!
I sighed.
No. It was going to be the usual method of this place, wasn’t it – more fucking personal sacrifices. Because of course, things could only ever get worse in the Free State. I ought to have put that on T-shirts.
“Okay,” I decided. “Here’s what we’ll do. Maybe that wasn’t such a waste of food after all. We’ll have to cut them off.”
“Nothing?” asked Construct, alarmed.
“Yes,” I said. “The only beings that will get fed from this are going to be the foals. No-one else. Hopefully the earlier waste would have at least put the majority of the ponies out of starvation. They… should be able to handle a month.” I grimaced, and made a mental note to wash my mouth out with soap later. Gambling with lives was dirty business indeed.
“Foals?” she asked next, in a tone whose implications I disliked greatly.
“Yes, the foals,” I said, exaggerating my enunciation. “I’m not going to stunt the development of little children, Construct. They’ll still get the usual. Hmm,” I hummed, as another idea hit me. “Come to think of it… yes, actually.”
“First Minister?”
“Your workers are still fine, right?”
“Yes, First Minister.”
“Good,” I said. “They’ll be the only workers in the Free State until further notice. Effective immediately. Get my residents in their homes and into bed. They’ll need to conserve as much energy as possible.” Ponies didn’t hibernate… but I hoped they were fast learners.
“As you wish, First Minister.”
“Good.” I spun on my heel and walked off, leaving Construct with the icebox, trying my best to not think about the next month of my life…
The prospect was immediately brained on the starting line, as opening the doors of the dining hall revealed the figures of Steady Hooves and his wife. The mare recoiled at my sight, though Hooves himself restrained himself to only a widening of the eyes. “O-oh!” exclaimed Green.
“Mister Inns!” greeted Hooves, extending a hoof. “How are ya? Is there anythin’ Ah…” Evidently, I was wearing my emotional state on my sleeve, as Hooves’ foreleg slowly drifted back down to the ground, the two ponies’ expressions turning increasingly concerned. “Minister? Somethin’ the matter?”
I sighed, despairing at the conversation it was increasingly evident was going to happen now. If nothing else, it would be a good way to gauge what the reaction would be to my course of action. All I had to do was figure out how to convey it – without being kicked in the head by an angry horse.
“...Hello, Hooves, Green. I… I apologise, I have a lot on my mind at the moment.” Honesty is the best policy, intoned my mind, as the two ponies blinked their eyes up at me, perhaps wondering why I wasn’t getting out of their way.
I bowed my head, cutting off whatever question was on their lips. My gesture seemed to cow them into simply waiting for whatever revelation they thought I was about to give them. And it’s gonna be a doozy, huh… fucking hell.
I sighed. “Alright, Hooves, Deft, I’ll… give it to you straight. We’re out of food. As of right now, no-one gets any more food from our stocks, except the foals. I fucked up. I admit it. Sorry,” I added, lowly, almost exhaling the word, feeling shame creeping up my neck.
I’ll admit, I was expecting a much stronger response from Hooves and Deft than I actually got. No-one likes to be told they have to starve, after all, and I did promise them personally that they would never have to deal with anything like this ever again. And yet…
“...Ah see,” Hooves finally said, looking down at the floor with an inscrutable expression that was shared by his wife. “Why?”
And wasn’t that the million-pound question, huh? Why did I decide to make such a short-sighted decision? Increasing rations seemed like a fine idea at the time, and it did come with certain benefits that my residents had now, chief among them not being so hungry any more – except, well, that all went out the window now, didn’t it? A few months of slightly-less than enough for everyone would absolutely be preferable to a few months of enough, followed by a month of nothing at all. Shouldn’t I have foreseen more ponies coming to me that needed to be fed, too?
“…I fucked up,” I repeated. “I thought we would have had enough for everyone for long enough that we could afford easing up. I was wrong. I…” The words died in my throat. I couldn’t even bring myself to apologise.
Apparently, though, Hooves felt like taking pity on me. “Ah… Ah see. Well, Ah guess there ain’t no point in us goin’ in there, now, is there?” He chuckled weakly, stepping backwards slowly. “Yer still gonna feed our foals?”
“Yes,” I confirmed, voice firming up ever-so-slightly. “We have enough for that much, at least. It’ll last the… twenty-seven foals until harvest. I can guarantee that much, if nothing else.”
“Good.” Hooves nodded firmly. “Ah can… Ah can live with that.”
Before I could even comprehend it, Hooves and Deft were gone, back to their own house. I was left standing alone in front of the doors to the dining hall, staring off into space like a pillock.
You can live with that, huh… you say that now, but after a month without food…? His lukewarm response shocked me to my core. The prospect of having a thousand people potentially starve to death under my watch was almost too much to understand, much less accept. I had it considerably easier than most of them, in fact, given that I could eat meat. Some effort in the forest would easily get me a couple squirrels, maybe a hare, where the ponies had already scoured it clean of their own sustenance.
How, then, could someone like Hooves, who was facing a very real chance of death, act so casually about it? He knew damn well that if the worst came to pass, I would be left alone in the Free State, with all of the foals -
I stopped. That was one train of thought I couldn’t let leave the station. I shook my head forcefully and blinked, trying not to think about it as I finally started moving again – this time to the sawmill where I could make the announcement public.
Finally… October 6th, 998.
It began as a pretty usual day in the Free State – that is to say, worse than the one before.
I woke up in my bed. Lyra, for once, was nowhere to be found, so this time I was free to kick off the sheets without grace. Getting up and out of the bed itself proved to be more of a challenge, but with the assistance of last night’s wild hare I soon found myself on my feet and dressed.
As it turned out, my room-mate had dragged herself into the kitchen, and was in the process of shakily handling two servings of breakfast in her sputtery aura. I watched them float over to the table with a streak of envy that I crushed the second I recognised it. The plates were chock-full of food, some of the last of its kind in the Free State.
Lyra finally turned and spotted me in the doorway, stepping up to me with a pained smile and a near-involuntary bow of the head. “Good morning, Adam,” she got out, gently touching her cheek to my stomach.
“Mornin’,” I said. “You know I could have done that just fine, right?”
“Yes,” she murmured, clearly already dead on her hooves. “Still my responsibility. Gotta…” That was all the energy she had for the day, it seemed.
“Come on, Ly,” I said, herding her back to my bedroom. “Save your energy. I’ll take care of ‘em.” I gently placed her down onto the bed, where Lyra near-instantly passed out. I shook my head sadly, and went back to get myself some water.
I considered myself very fortunate that I was still able to scrape by, nutrition-wise. I had little skill in hunting, not without a scoped rifle at any rate, but Construct had pointed one of her workers my way when I asked about snares, and I was now at least competent in setting them up, crude as they may have been. The other ponies – what few still brought themselves to leave their dwellings, that is – didn’t seem to mind too much, even though I’d have thought it would have been a little disturbing to them, being herbivores and all.
At any rate, though it may not have sated completely, it was enough to leave me considerably better off than the vast majority of my residents.
“Daddy! Daddy!”
Two high yells preceded the arrival of the two foals living with me. Silent Wish ran in first, followed closely by Bowmound, both sparing mere moments to hug my legs before leaping into their seats and beginning to annihilate their breakfast.
I watched the two kids eat with a faint sense of genuine warmth. It was… good, to know that I could at least make sure that the foals of the Free State had little to worry about, and could go on with their days of running around having fun, trying to discover their cutie marks, pointedly ignoring their parents wasting away in their beds right in front-
Nope nope nope. I blinked my eyes as forcefully as I could, turning my head physically towards the direction of my study, trying to bring my mind back to more productive roads. Not much came to replace them. I contented myself with watching the two foals in my kitchen devour their meal.
Before too long, their plates stood empty, the kids looking over at me with unfathomably cheerful expressions as they slid them over in my direction. “Paldies,” chorused the two foals, beaming widely.
“Lū-” I replied automatically before I stopped myself, bewildered at what exactly my foals had just said to me. “…Uh, what? Where did you pick that up from?”
“We hear you say it to Lyra when you finish eating,” said Wish proudly.
I could only shake my head as I quickly picked up their plates to simply place them into the sink for later. Those darn kiddos. Do they even know what it means? The pile was already getting uncomfortably large, but… I had bigger things on my mind, despite my best efforts.
“What are you doing today, Daddy?” asked Wish, tugging at my sweatpants in her usual manner. I couldn’t resist ruffling her mane with a fond smile, looking down at her as she giggled happily under the attention.
“Not much,” I admitted easily, inviting Bowmound over with my other hand, which he accepted as eagerly as his counterpart. Soon, I was kneeling in the kitchen, lavishing the two foals with attention.
And yet, somehow, despite all this, my mind still had the audacity to wander. It had been… some time since our last big disaster (that you orchestrated, my mind reminded me ever-so-handily), and I was feeling an awful lot like I was due another dose of bullshit. The harvest was once again close – only a week or two more, thank God, and not the mid-November that it could have been – but even still, it didn’t ease the pressure in my mind.
My ponies, the people I was responsible for, were still starving, and had been for a month. The fact I hadn’t heard any bad news coming to me yet was nothing short of a miracle – but I knew damn well it couldn’t last. Not in the Free State, where things could only ever get worse.
“Daddy?” Wish’s voice broke through the smog clouding my brain; I looked back to the foals under my hands to find them looking at me with concern I had never expected to see on the face of a foal. “Are you okay?”
My hands resumed the motions I had stopped by mistake, lost in my thoughts as I was, as I replied. “Yes, kids. I’m fine. Just feeling a bit silly.” Fortunately, the weak excuse was backed up by my starting to scratch behind the foals’ ears, which served to placate them immensely. A chuckle bubbled out of my throat, seeing them melt into goofy smiles and crane their necks upward to push their heads further into my palms.
Soon, though, I had to disengage, feeling my knee start to protest under the pressure. I stood up, stretching out my limbs while suppressing a yawn, and looked out of the window to guess the time – the sun was still relatively low in the sky, and was visible from the kitchen, telling me it was still reasonably early in the morning. Without me even doing a thing, the foals ran off all by themselves, apparently having already decided on an itinerary without me – which was just fine by me. I had bigger concerns.
Before long, I too stepped foot outdoors. I breathed in, savouring the feeling, before exhaling as cathartically as I could get away with. There were only two things on my to-do list today; meet with Construct, and inspect the crops. I decided to start off with point two, in my boundless irreverence.
Naturally, though, the universe just had to screw with my plans.
Because, as it happened, just as I approached the smaller of the two fields of the Free State, the one that used to be my own little plot, I saw Construct appear from behind a corner of a house in the distance, practically galloping towards my house. When she saw me standing around near the plot, though, she hurriedly, and a little messily, changed course to instead head directly for me, quickly slowing her pace as if to pretend she wasn’t just full-on sprinting to find me.
“First Minister,” she called out as she neared, a hint of strain in her voice. “Do you have a moment?”
“Don’t I always,” I not-quite-mumbled, turning my head slightly to put her in my peripheral vision, focused as I was on the crops. “What is it?”
“Doctor Sawbones wants to see you as soon as possible,” she said, frowning at my lack of enthusiasm. “He says it is urgent.”
“Well,” I prevaricated. “Since I’ve-”
“He told me to tell you it’s a matter of the wellbeing of every citizen of the Free State.”
I turned to look at Construct, who was staring at me intently. “…I see,” I said. In hindsight, I didn’t really know what I was expecting. A month of nothing would probably cause some serious problems, after all. “Well, lead the way, then, I suppose.”
The streets of the Free State were still as quiet as ever. A single pony passed us by as we walked, who respectfully nodded at Construct – not a big surprise, considering he worked for her. Otherwise, the buildings and pathways stood precisely as empty as they were before the Summer Sun, months ago. The only thing that changed was the amount.
Construct, bless her, tried to strike up a conversation, trying to keep the gloomy mood at bay. “First Minister? Do you happen to know where Blueblood is? I can’t seem to find him anywhere.”
“Oh, he, uh… he’s in Equestria at the moment, I believe.” Truth be told, I was glad for a reprieve in the silence. It helped keep unpleasant thoughts at bay. “Has been for about three weeks now. Said something about Court business. Apparently it was quite important to him, in some way. At least I got him to deliver my letter to the Princess while he’s there.”
“Mmm,” hummed Construct in acknowledgement. “What was the letter about?”
“Personal business,” I replied, to which Construct shot me an odd look. “We’re pretty good friends, as a matter of fact. We exchange letters on occasion. Figured I might as well make Ambassador Blueblood actually do something befitting his job description. Well,” I amended, mock-thoughtfully. “A little bit. The mailmare’s stopped showing up to my house, so it might as well have been him.”
As a reply, Construct opened the door to a building and waved me in. I blinked, realising we’d already arrived at our destination. I shook my head, overcome by a wave of inexplicable apathy – I breathed in, out – in, out – and stepped inside.
Let me tell you, stepping inside a wooden hospital is certainly a disconcerting experience. Being used to modern, Earth clinics, and then grandiose, gilded Canterlot royal clinics, the sight of a sign of a red cross suspended on a wall of what was essentially an oversized log cabin was… off.
The building was laid out quite unusually, too. It was only a single, massive room, with pillars placed around strategically to hold the roof up. Simple wooden cots were packed tightly in rows, with just enough space for a pony to walk between them. I wasn’t going to be able to stand next to one, but there was plenty of space at the foot of cots. It reminded me strongly of pictures I’d seen of field hospitals in the Crimean War. Very Florence-Nightingale-esque.
Less aesthetically pleasing was the sight of what exactly was on those cots – or, rather, who.
Many, many cots were already occupied by ponies. Green, blue, red, gray, brown… and so on, and so on. Many were pegasi. Some were unicorns. I saw only three earth ponies. I supposed their natural fur would preclude the necessity of sheets to cover them – except, I noticed, for three, far at the back of the room, as if someone was trying to hide them from me. It was… almost unnaturally quiet in here, considering the number of filled cots here. Until -
“First Minister?” Construct’s voice shook me out of my observations. I looked down at her – turning around first, since she didn’t take the opportunity to walk in front of me – and saw, on her, a very frightening expression of pity on her. “I…”
She struggled with her words for a while. I continued looking around while she tried.
Soon, I noticed the presence of coloured tags on the ponies on the cots. Many were yellow. A few were green. Two, I saw, were red. I recognised their purpose pretty quickly – triage priority tags. It made sense: as far as I was aware, Sawbones was the only qualified medical personnel in the entire country. A building full of ponies, like this one, was absolutely going to overwhelm him. But… at the same time, why would triage be necessary? Assuming I was still up-to-date on what was going on, these ponies were just starving. No life-saving treatment really existed, besides simply stuffing them full of calories again – slowly, of course. Was…
The door creaked open behind me again, just as Construct was inhaling to finally say something. I turned to see my man Sawbones, slowly and laboriously opening the door with his mouth, stepping back – and…
A stretcher floated in ahead of him. A pony was on it.
With a heavy sigh, Sawbones set the stretcher down on the floor, the magic aura around it winking out pathetically. Another aura sprung up from a table, as a black tag floated over to attach itself to the ear of the pony on the stretcher.
“Sawbones,” called Construct.
“Gah!” The good doctor was taken rather vigorously by surprise, going by the air-time he got. Spinning around to face us, he put a hoof to his chest and sighed deeply. “Construct! First Minister! My apologies, you… caught me off-guard.”
“Yeah,” I said, stepping closer. “I noticed. Construct says you wanted to speak with me. So… report.”
Apparently, though, Sawbones was now the one at a loss for words. He hurriedly averted his gaze elsewhere, seemingly unwilling to explain – it appeared I would have to be the one to take the initiative. I walked to the stretcher with the pony on it – a dull green earth pony, the fourth one in the building, with a grey mane and a cutie mark of a dark brown brush of some sort. It took me a moment to recognise it – it was the tail of a beaver. I gazed distastefully at the tag on his ear.
“Lost cause, is he?” I asked. No reply came, causing me to shake my head. “Yeah,” I continued. “I’m familiar with the concept of triage. Not quite sure why you’re doing it to victims of a famine, but I get it. This poor bastard…” I moved to put my hand on the pony’s chest in a gesture of sympathy -
only to feel a deathly chill under my hand.
I struck my gaze to the pony in an instant. Now that I was actually paying attention… his chest was still. I felt for a pulse, not quite sure where to check on a pony instead of another human, and found nothing. Opening an eye with two fingers revealed a glazed, empty stare to me.
I let my hand fall back to my side.
Far from being merely beyond help. This pony was dead.
This pony was dead.
…
I could barely even feel the touch of a hoof on my side. Construct was trying to get my attention. I’m sure she was saying something to me, but I wouldn’t have cared for what she had to say even if I could have heard her. I felt numb. Dizzy. It was… unexplainable. My stupid mistakes had gotten a person killed.
The blanketed ones at the back. My feet dragged as I walked over to the back of the building. Construct stayed almost glued to my side, which I’m sure I must have picked up on somewhere at the back of my mind. The blankets loomed larger in my vision as I neared, utterly unmoving. The ponies underneath must also have been lying still. The only part of them that I could see, unhidden by the blankets, were their heads, lying peaceful in apparent sleep – were it not for the black tags attached to their ears.
My stupid mistakes had gotten four people killed. There were lives on my conscience that weren’t there before. That shouldn’t have been there. I could have prevented this.
“I’m sorry,” said Construct.
Yeah.
“Get the smaller plot pulled up,” I heard myself saying. “Get my people fed.”
“First Minister? The crops are not yet fully-grown. Are you…” A single look was enough to silence Construct’s protests. Whatever she was about to say died on arrival, as she instead chose to gulp and nod slowly. “…Yes, First Minister,” she said. “We’ll get started immediately.”
At once, she whirled around and strode off, leaving me alone with the bodies – and Sawbones.
“I’m-”
“Save it,” I said, monotone. “I’ll get the first crop to you. I’ll trust you to figure out a way to avoid any more deaths. Will you need anything in addition, to get that done?”
A considerable pause. “…No, First Minister. I have the necessary equipment. I just need the… nutrition.”
“Good.”
There was nothing else to say. Sawbones gave a nod, accompanied by a look of professional pity, and turned around to examine another one of his patients.
I couldn’t stay there any longer. I’d already gotten to everything I needed to get done today. I was out.
I needed some time alone.
You could have prevented this, Adam.
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Well dang, it finally happened. It seems the hail Mary food delivery was only a temp fix. The free state is definitely going by on a knifes edge right now, here's to hoping they make it. The first criminal part was an interesting side note, I hope there is a reward. I have mixed feelings about Lyra. She does seem to be trying to do good but at the same time, it feels like she is taking advantage of Adam sometimes. She must have picked up some skills from her family for she does have some talent in getting others to feel what she wants them to. This whole forced family thing kind of rubs me the wrong way but I do hope things turn out well for everyone nonetheless.
... I feel like this situation should have been remedied long before people dying by simply sending a letter Celestia. There is nothing preventing him from reaching out for some of aid, and he really should have done so right when he started putting people on starvation rations, let alone when he cut everyone off. He probably should have reached out when way more people showed up than he anticipated.
There's been things that strained credulity before, (like learning and understanding a nation's tax codes enough to understand their flaws in a single day,) but this is the part that absolutely shatters my disbelief: he's an empathetic, caring individual that wants the best for those who're putting their trust in him, but he's only availing himself to resources that he himself can provide? For what reason? You put in the effort to show that a lot of time passes in this chapter, and that's what makes things so unbelievable.
Even if Celestia had to offer a deal that came with all the horrible caveats that we might conceive, even if he has to give up sovereignty, he'd have to have realized long before now that keeping his people alive trumps everything else.
If you wanted to skip past the specifics, that's fine. But you should then show just how his awareness of the situation is gnawing at him. Not have him think that it had been some time since the last disaster, as if the last ever stopped.
It's likewise fine for him to make mistakes - but it's weird that nobody calls him out on them.
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Yeah I think I'll stop reading here. This seems like misery porn at this point.
This chapter really doesn't make much sense. A month of no food? No shit ponies are dying. Most mammals around human size can go for a week or two at most with no food. Lives come before pride. He should be lynched for letting anyone die when Equestria is just outside of the forest. I genuinely don't understand.
We have to remember that Inn isn’t a perfect smart human… He will make mistakes and people dying from starvation isn’t a new thing there’s nations that people starve so much they had to eat their own pets…
Sure, he should had asked Celestia for help since lately we haven’t seen him talk to her in so long. Plus she hasn’t even shown up at all which is weird since she use to come to visit him a lot.
It’s very unfortunate that ponies who should be able to just eat grass and other plants in their area to die off like that… they should be able to go eat bugs, fish or small animals since ponies and horses actually do eat small animals for proteins when there isn’t much food.
That’s likely one of the biggest mistakes was not going to a river to go catch fish 🐠 or hunt and raise bugs for the time being.
I wanted to post a comment of the kids and his relationship with them and Lyra. Right now, he needs to rethink things and pull ideas from earth and how nature feeds ponies from there to teach ponies here.
Hopefully things get better
Unless this has been a weird dream sequence, this completely breaks my suspension of disbelief. He expected ponies to last a month without food, and he didn't petition Equestria for aid when he realized they were out of supplies? Adam's behavior seems very erratic compared to earlier chapters, like he's headed towards a mental breakdown. "Haha, whoops, Celestia's idea of a prank caused her friend to spiral into a massive depressive episode and also got a bunch a ponies killed" isn't a story I'm interested in reading.
This chapter made little sense, in a number of ways, and also seemed needlessly dark.
The first major question, which I might have missed the answer to, is what happened to the foraging.
The second question is regarding the complete lack of any industry at all after several months. What, we’re expected to believe that the entire thousand-strong population is all just sitting around and waiting on the harvest? As opposed to trying to find or create something, anything, to export to Equestria in exchange for food?
Thirdly, aren’t there plenty of crops with a harvest time of under two months?
The largest question, however, is why the hell Adam wouldn’t hit up Celestia for help once he realized they were facing an entire month without food. That just doesn’t seem to fit his established characterization at all.
I have been a big follower of this story since it started, every update got me excited, but this chapter, it just doesn't sit right with me. First it was Lyra practically forcing Adam to become a father. And then the decision to only feed the foals for a month. Is it really a shock to him that ponies are dying from hunger? Yes he fucked up by not rationing the food Construct brought in, I can accept that, he isn't the brightest when it comes to building a nation from the ground up, but he should have at least consulted with Construct and Blueblood before making such an extreme decision.
I'll still follow this story, I haven't given up on it.
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I guess at this point its not worth the effort, they would probably just use up more energy than they would get from what they forage.
And not asking Celestia for help, he talked with one or two ponies who HATED Celestia and wanted absolutely nothing from her or Equestria, even if it meant starving. So maybe Adam figures that none of the ponies would be happy about receiving aid from Equestria when they want to put as much distance between it and Celestia.
I have to admit, and agree with others that something about this chapter feels... Off. Inn's has show to be a very deeply empathetic person, and I genuinely see no reason he would've ordered all the adults to eat absolutely nothing for a month. Humans can hardly last that long, why would he have expected ponies to? I'm surprised half the Free State didn't drop dead from their bodies cannibalizing themselves for calories until nothing was left!
It just seems odd that he wouldn't have swallowed his pride and asked for help from Celestia from the first day of the absolute starvation. Even if some ponies there truly hate her, Inns wouldn't have cared about that when Foals' parents were wasting away in front of them! I'm sorry, but I just can't agree with this chapter, or believe in the least that Inns would rather starve the whole adult population than ask for help to keep completely preventable deaths from happening!
Ooof...
I also can't help but chime in that this chapter just doesn't feel right.
Starting at the set-up for the famine: of course it is plausible to "overspend" food without noticing, but to suddenly arrive at the "whoops, there is only enough food to feed the thirty foals for a month or so" would means that they had - at most - a few days worth of food left for the entire population. Had they been grabbing the food with their eyes closed the past few weeks, or how did they not notice that the remaining stockpile was so rapidly shrinking?
Secondly, what about foraging - sure, they may have cleaned out most of the nearby forest, but setting off to forage farther away, even if it means spending the night in the forest, would be better than starving. And even if it was not official policy, none of the ponies said "screw this, better to forage or something than to starve" and went off on their own? Or simply leave the settlement alltogether?
Thirdly, am I to assume that Bloodblood didn't once mention the "oh, and we ran out of food and all get to starve at zero rations over the next month" thing in his reports? Or that Celestia would be so cold-hearted to actually let a thousand ponies starve to death - even if they wouldn't have accepted a hand-out, they could have gotten a loan, or another bad deal like with Upper Crust - only that they'd be forced to take it now.
Finally the end-scene with the triage - starvation is not something that happens overnight - didn't the doctor give any earlier warning of "hey, those ponies are starving, they won't last a week", instead of "we're triaging, four ponies are dead already, and it is too late for X more"?
I really enjoyed the story so far, and it is totally okay for Adam to screw up, but I have a hard time wrapping my head around them just sitting down and starving without anyone even trying to do anything about it.
Honestly, I find prospects of ponies starving really strange... considering they have nearly unlimited forage of GRASS, which could be turned to HAY. They might not like it, but definitely better than dying.
“I will throw you back to Canterlot myself.”
Fuck you. If I was Lyra I would have ditched this manipulative tool of a jerk right there and taken the kids with me.
As the others have said, this is nonsensical. If Adam didn't want to ask Celestia for food, why not ask the batponies? What happened to them? Did they just fuck off?
Also, I get that you established that ponies think eating grass is absolutely gross, but people would still do so if the alternative was literally dying.
Y'know, I thought this storyline was dragging itself out way too long already, but ending it with a car crash like this so abruptly wasn't really how I wanted it to go, either. Jesus.