A Head Full of Clay

by Squinty Mudmane

Chapter 4: Rise and Shine

Apple Bloom woke up to the crowing of the rooster, blinking bleary-eyed and half sliding, half stumbling out of bed. She still felt tired from her late-night reading marathon, but she could not stay in bed; there was simply too much to do. She slid Tracking Tincoat underneath her bed before leaving her room, feeling a pang of guilt as she noticed the uneaten slice of apple pie still waiting in front of her door. She quickly gobbled it up before heading down the stairs to the living room. Her siblings were nowhere to be seen and had most likely already eaten breakfast before heading out to work, and Granny Smith was dozing off in her rocking chair, which creaked lightly as it swayed back and forth.

Apple Bloom helped herself to a generous amount of the still warm pancakes from the breakfast table, sitting down to eat in silence while watching Granny Smith thoughtfully. Dew Glitter had said that tablet thing had been found by somepony from Ponyville. Was it possible that Granny Smith might have known him? It was a bit of a long shot, but Apple Bloom felt that it could not hurt to ask. She finished up her pancakes and moved next to the elderly pony.

“Hey, Granny Smith, can Ah ask ya ’bout somethin’?” There was no response other than a steady snore. Apple Bloom poked Granny Smith’s leg, still with no response, then grabbed a hold of one of the chair’s legs and shook it vigorously, eliciting a little grunt followed by more snoring. Finally, she went to the kitchen, grabbed a frying pan and a wooden spoon and banged them together next to the slumbering pony as hard as she could. The noise was finally enough to wake Granny Smith—and all of their neighbours, Apple Bloom suspected—and she sat up, opening her eyes halfway.

“Huh, whassat, young’un?” she mumbled sleepily.

“Ah was wonderin’, have ya heard ’bout somepony named Jitterleaf?” Apple Bloom asked, panting slightly from the exertion.

“Eh? Jittery? Ah ain’t jittery, missy, Ah was havin’ a nap.”

“No, Jitterleaf,” Apple Bloom said patiently. “He’s a pony who’s supposed to have lived here in Ponyville a long time ago.”

“Jitterleaf…” Granny Smith muttered, her expression becoming strangely lucid. “Jitterleaf… now there’s a name Ah ain’t heard in a long, loooong time. Sure, Ah remember ’im. Came with one o’ the first big groups o’ ponies lookin' to settle down after we’d gone an’ put up our farm ’ere. He was a real nice fella, not much older’n me. Gentlecoltly as they came, too. Used to chop down trees in the Everfree to help build houses for the new families. Didn’t ’ave no family o’ ’is own, far as anypony knew, but that didn’t seem to bother ’im none.”

Apple Bloom sat down and listened as Granny Smith continued, the elder pony’s expression at once vacant as she reminisced, yet at the same time more focused than what Apple Bloom normally saw.

“Then one day, he comes stormin’ into town, excited as a filly an’ sayin’ he’s done found a jan-u-wine relic while out on one o’ ’is trips into the great Everfree. He kept sayin’ this ’ere find o’ ’is was gonna put Ponyville on the world map, an’ he practically begged the postmaster to send a letter to Canterlot soon as could be done. We tried to figure out what got ’im so excited, but all we got from ’im was somethin’ ’bout tablets an’ history in the makin’. Sure enough, a couple o’ days later, a bunch o’ posh-lookin’ city ponies come to town in a carriage, sayin’ they wanna speak with Jitterleaf. We all figure this a good sign, ’specially when they’re in ’is house for hours, but next thing we know, the whole bunch o’ them are leavin’, lookin’ very cross, an’ Jitterleaf’s right behind them, all but breakin’ into tears.”

Apple Bloom listened in rapt attention, her mouth slightly agape. So it was true! That which she had read in the book, it was real. “Why, what happened?” she asked almost breathlessly.

“Don’t rightly know,” said Granny Smith, shaking her head slightly. “All Ah know is that them city-folk looked mighty peeved. They called Jitterleaf a fink an’ a fraud. Now, we all knew that Jitterleaf was honest an’ straight as an arrow, an’ we tried to tell ’im that we didn’t care none ’bout what a bunch o’ hoity-toity city ponies said, but he didn’t hear none o’ it. Ah ain’t never seen a pony look more defeated ’fore nor since. He just wasn’t the same after that. Didn’t smile or laugh no more, barely even came outta ’is house.” Granny Smith looked morose all of a sudden, even ceasing her gentle rocking back and forth in her chair. “He left town soon after. Poor feller. Was the last any o’ us saw ’im,” she finished.

“D’ya know where he went off to?” Apple Bloom asked after a moment.

“Think he went off ta some other town named, ehh… what was it now, uh… Storkingholm? Sparrrowton? Somethin’ ’bout birds,” Granny Smith muttered, her state of clarity slowly giving way to her usual distracted self. “Hnnmhh… run along now, young’un. Ol’ Granny needs a nap.”

Apple Bloom gave the old mare a hug. “Thanks for the story, Granny Smith,” she said, smiling, before heading for the stairs.

“Eh, what story?” Granny Smith muttered, already dozing off again. Apple Bloom fought the urge to bounce across the floor in giddiness as she rushed back to her room. She could not remember the last time she had felt this elated. She could not wait to tell her friends about Tincoat and the journal, the tablet and Jitterleaf who was real. She could picture it already; the Crusaders unearthing long-forgotten truths unknown to everypony else, being hailed as heroes, pictures in the newspapers, and best of all, Cutie Marks finally appearing on their flanks. She wondered what hers would look like. A shovel? A pickaxe? A scroll? She put Tracking Tincoat into her schoolbag, along with the map book and A Traveller’s Essentials. An insistent voice in the back of her head finally gained enough strength and volume to pierce her ecstatic train of thoughts. Books. Schoolbag. School.

“Oh, horseapples,” she whispered, hoping nobody else heard her.

---

The morning announced its presence with bright light pressing insistently against Sweetie Belle’s closed eyes until she finally surrendered and woke up. The curtains had been parted from the window, illuminating the room she occupied when she was staying with her sister. The white walls had been decorated with colourful drawings that she had made herself, and several pieces of paper—some blank, some with half-finished doodles—lay scattered across the floor, along with several pens and crayons. In one corner of the room stood a small dress form and an old sewing machine that Rarity had given to Sweetie Belle, along with several rolls of fabric and thread. Several more or less (mostly less) successful attempts at making clothing were scattered in the vicinity.

Sweetie Belle let out a little gasp when she noticed Mister Paws on the floor and quickly picked him up. She gave the puppy plushie an apologetic hug and placed him back in bed, pulling the blanket back up over him.

“Sorry about that, Paws. I had a bad dream. I must have pushed you out by accident.” She could not remember much of the dream, except that it had involved her being chased by a pair of giant, snapping, cackling scissors. She shook her head to clear it of the uncomfortable vision and headed to the kitchen. There was no sign of Rarity. Perhaps she was still asleep. Sweetie Belle considered making breakfast to surprise her. Surely it could not go as badly as last time.

A bell chimed as the front door was opened and Rarity called out in a singsong voice.

“Sweetie Beeeeeeeelle! Rise and shine, sleepyhead!” Moments later, she walked into the kitchen, smiling when she saw Sweetie Belle. She was wearing the same large, wide-brimmed hat as yesterday.

“Ah, you’re already up. Perfect! I just came back from visiting Twilight, and she said she would be happy to look into your magic situation.” She moved over to prepare breakfast before Sweetie Belle could start trying to cook something herself.

“Oh, that sounds… nice, I think?” Sweetie Belle suggested as Rarity began to make a pair of fried eggs and toast.

“Well, she said she needed a while to read up on a few books, so she suggested you came by after you finish school. Does that sound all right?”

“You’re not coming along?”

“Well, I can if you want to, of course, but I did not think you wanted me to be there looming over your shoulder?” Rarity gave her sister a quizzical look while pouring two glasses of orange juice.

“No no, it’s just, you don’t mind me going on my own, then?”

Rarity let out a little chuckle as she floated the glasses and plates with breakfast over to the table with a shimmer of magic. “Oh, Sweetie, I did tell you yesterday that I would try to be less fussy, didn’t I? I’m not going to be on you like a hawk all the time. I trust that you can take care of this yourself.”

Sweetie Belle smiled and embraced her sister. “Thanks, Rarey.”

“Nothing to thank me for, dear,” Rarity replied with a warm smile. “Besides, it’s just a trip to the library. It’s not as if you are suddenly going to get lost and wind up in Trottingham, is it?”

They both started giggling as they sat down to eat their breakfast, dispelling any tension Sweetie Belle worried might have lingered from yesterday.

---

A familiar tock tock tock sound pulled Scootaloo’s from her rainbow-tinted dreams and into the waking world before a knocking on her door could. She looked up to see her father smiling at her from the doorway.

“Up and at ’em, Scoots. It’s a bright new day, and your scooter’s fixed and good to go.”

Scootaloo yawned and stretched. “Thanks, Dad. I’ll be out in a moment,” she replied sleepily. As soon as her father had closed the door again, she flopped back against her pillow. She looked at the wall across the room from her bed, plastered with newspaper articles and pictures featuring her idol. Most of them were from the time Rainbow Dash became Ponyville’s local hero, shortly before “Mare-Do-Well” had taken her down a notch again, but there were others, too.

“Winner of Best Young Flier Competition Saves Unicorn and Wonderbolts!” one of the articles declared in bold letters, complete with a picture of a beaming Rainbow Dash together with three smiling Wonderbolts and a rather frazzled-looking Rarity, as well as a picture showing the spectacular effects of the sonic rainboom.

“Ponyville Pegasi Pull Off Jumbo Tornado Against All Odds,” another read. This one had a joint picture of Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy, along with one of all the Ponyville pegasi gathered for a group photo, but Scootaloo had kept the article anyway for the uplifting story it told about triumph in the face of hardship.

She had even, somewhat guiltily, kept the embarrassing picture of Rainbow Dash caught in the spa during the time Scootaloo and her friends had attempted their ill-fated career as gossip columnists, though she had stripped away the rest of the slandering article.

Looking at that collage of pictures of her idol usually motivated her to meet the day head-on with vigour and energy, but this morning, she had difficulty finding the same level of inspiration from it. Her resentment from yesterday was returning to her like a cloud, though the more she thought about it, the more silly it seemed for her to be nursing a grudge. Rainbow Dash had had a perfectly good reason to leave, and it was Scootaloo herself who had volunteered—practically begged, let's be fair—to bring Tank over to Fluttershy’s cottage. Nobody had forced her to do that except herself. Blaming Rainbow Dash for Scootaloo being a doormat when it came to her idol was both stupid and foalish.

With these thoughts in mind, she slid out of bed when she felt she could not procrastinate getting up any longer and went to the kitchen. Her father was just finishing up his own breakfast when she arrived, but a pair of daffodil sandwiches had already been prepared for her. Their unfinished game of Battlecloud from last night had been moved to the windowsill, the pieces on the board still placed at their original positions.

“There you are. I was starting to wonder if I was going to have to tip your bed over to get you up,” her father said with a grin. Scootaloo rolled her eyes a bit as she sat down to eat.

“I’m not that late,” she muttered.

“You will be if you don’t get on your way soon. I’m pretty sure even you can’t get to school in less than five minutes,” he replied as he began to clear the table except for Scootaloo’s plate.

A smirk spread across Scootaloo’s face as she ate. “Is that a challenge?”

Her father chuckled. “Not smart of me to bet if I can’t be there to check whether or not you actually get there in time, is it? Besides, even if I did bet, I would probably lose anyway,”

“You know it,” Scootaloo agreed as she dug into the sandwiches, feeling a little surge of pride. Whatever else she might doubt or not know about herself, she knew she was unbeatable on her scooter.

Her father put the clean plates back in the cupboard and headed for the door. “I need to get started on fixing Cider Cup’s wagon before noon. You going to say bye before you head off?”

Scootaloo nodded and finished up her breakfast. Her eyes drifted from a photo set in a gilded picture frame of a younger Scootaloo standing next to her father with her brand-new scooter, to a portrait of her father together with a dark blue mare holding a tiny orange foal swaddled in cloth between them. Her eyes lingered on the portrait for several moments, before she pounded her chest and let out a little burp. She headed back to her room to get her things, giving her Rainbow-wall another look, half hoping to feel an invigorating surge of energy, but none was forthcoming. Scootaloo shrugged and swept up her schoolbag before leaving.

---

Without the passenger cart to weigh her down this time, Scootaloo rode her scooter along the road at a reckless speed. Bet or no bet, she was determined to try and beat her personal record for getting to school quickly. Dust billowed behind her in a cloud, wind whipping against her face. It was exhilarating; enough to make her forget about everything except the moment here and now, all her attention focused on navigating the small irregularities in the road that would send her flying into the roadside again if she got too careless.

Although she was pretty certain that she had beaten her own personal best, she regretted it slightly when the Ponyville schoolhouse came into view far too early for her liking. Even so, she continued at the same speed for as long as she could, feeling a rush of satisfaction as she caused Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon to dive for safety on either side of the road and grinning at the string of insults the two insufferable fillies hurled after her. She finally pulled to a halt a short distance from the doors to the schoolhouse. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle stood a bit off to the side, away from the other fillies and colts, engaged in a hushed but heated conversation. Scootaloo trotted over to join them.

“…Told you already, I’ve got to go and meet Twilight after school!” Sweetie Belle hissed in a low voice.

“Ah heard ya the first time, an’ Ah tells ya again, this is really, really important!” Apple Bloom retorted.

“What are you two arguing about?” Scootaloo interjected before Sweetie Belle could reply. Both turned to look at her.

“Oh heya, Scoots. Can ya help me convince Sweetie Belle stop bein’ so stubborn and come to the clubhouse after school? Ah got somethin’ real big to tell ya both, but she won’t listen.” Apple Bloom gave the unicorn filly a rather frustrated look.

“Help you out? You mean like how you helped me yesterday by bailing on me with Sweetie Belle and Rarity, huh?” Scootaloo replied, feeling slightly vindictive for a moment, though it faded as soon as she saw Apple Bloom’s crestfallen expression. “Hey, wait a moment, didn’t Rarity ground you?” she added, looking at Sweetie Belle.

Sweetie Belle crossed her hooves and looked away. “We worked it out, but I promised her I’d try and be more careful from now on.”

“This is gonna be different, Ah promise,” Apple Bloom said in a softer voice. “It ain’t just a shot in the dark this time; Ah know this’ll work. Please?”

Scootaloo looked from one to the other. “Well… It really sounds like you think you’re on to something this time, AB. I’m in,” she said after a moment. Apple Bloom gave her a wide smile and they both turned to look expectantly at Sweetie Belle.

“Oh, fine,” she relented at length. “But I can’t stay for long. I really, really need to go and see Twilight as soon as we’re done, okay?”

The school bell rang before any of them could say anymore and they went to class without another word, one looking happy and pleased, the other looking somewhat dubious, and the third seeming rather displeased. They all put their game faces on as soon as they entered the classroom, however.

Comments

[Darkarma]

Definitely looking forward to seeing what is coming up in this. I suspect this is going towards an idea I myself have been tossing around. Something along the lines of Apple Bloom actually discovering something significant, say that magic isn't only limited to Unicorns?

We need some more Bloom icons...

[Squinty Mudmane]

1423173 I'm certainly hoping I can keep you guessing as the story progresses, not to mention entertained. There are definitely significant discoveries to be made during the course of the story, that much I can say.

And yes, only one AB icon? She is not a happy filly.

[Zemious]

It's strange stumbling back into this story. I was just browsing 'recent updates' and saw unread chapters on a story I liked. I can see why I liked it.

I love how you're playing with the CMC's characters, it's really interesting and nothing feels cliche. I'm quite pleased you avoided the orphan scootaloo trope.

[statoose]

Not much to say about this chapter that I haven't said about the past ones, so I'll just mention the fact that I like your choice to avoid the orphan-Scootaloo idea.

[Godiswithus3]

Oh jeez, this is gonna get INtersting.