The Delightful Dragon of Ep

by Laichonious the Grey

5. Rarity Rescues the Tin Woodmare

Sunlight streamed through the window with difficulty. The years of grime and dirt, neglect and weather made the glass a veritable category five rapid with the blinding glow it produced in lieu of a steady stream. It was to this crashing of light that Rarity awoke. She blinked her eyes at the glare, perhaps trying to catch with her eyelashes the fleeting images of her disturbing dreams.Where was her bed and boutique? Where was she? The room slowly came into focus, the grey-tinged blobs coalescing into the shapes of couches and tables. The white unicorn lifted her head, yawning and stretching her neck.

“Good Morning. Rarity.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “Oh! Good morning, Smartypants.”

“I hope you slept well,” said the scarecrow as she turned from the window.

“Did you sit there all night, darling?”

Smartypants nodded her head enthusiastically. “I don’t need to sleep. I thought instead.”

Rarity smiled and stood, letting the blanket slide to the floor, and shook herself in the early morning cool. “Well then, I hope you had a good, um... think.”

“Oh, I did. I think I found something too. It looks interesting. I watched it for most of the night, since the stars were hidden, and it didn’t move at all. I thought that was strange, because it looks like a pony, only I couldn’t tell what it was made of, so I don’t think it’s a pony, but now I think it’s made out of a metal. Metals are shiny, right, Rarity?”

The fashionista blinked at the torrent of words. “Well, most of the time, yes.”

“Does a thing that doesn’t move, but was made to look like it could move, have a name?”

Rarity paused in placing a silver bowl, full of food for Opal, on the floor and earned a hiss from the hungry cat. “I... have no idea what you’re saying, dear.”

“Look right there.” Smartypants got right up next to the glass, incidentally blocking Rarity’s view, such as it was. “See? It’s right over there, on that little hill,” she mumbled into the dirty panes.

Rarity set the bowl down before she came under attack from the hungry feline, and joined the scarecrow at the window. After a gentle nudge cleared the portal of canvas enthusiasm, she was able to see what looked like a pony rendered completely in silver. “Ah.. yes that would be called a statue.... It seems odd to put a statue in a dark forest like this...” she glanced at the room, “though it seems odd that somepony would build a house way out here too.”

Smartypants scrunched up her face. “But there are two things in the woods, a statue and a house. Doesn’t that make it even?”

Rarity chuckled as she rolled up her bed. “Yes, but that’s not what I meant. Odd also means that something can be strange or out of the ordinary.”

“Like a house falling from the sky?” Smartypants tilted her head to the side.

Rarity nodded. “Exactly, though that is more of something that doesn't happen most of the time. Strange things are... Well, most ponies like to live around other ponies, so it's out of the ordinary to build a house out here instead of in a town somewhere.”

“Oh, okay. Can we go look at the odd statue then?”

“Certainly, dear. Let me just gather my things.”

Smartypants was more than content to wait and watch as Rarity simultaneously breakfasted on bread with a bottle of Punchin punch and brushed out her mane. Rarity did her best to pretend that this was a normal morning, and that she didn't have a curious scarecrow watching her every move.

“What's it called when you make things move without touching them?” The scarecrow asked suddenly.

“Levitation, darling.” From the wrinkled brow and tilted head of her canvas companion, Rarity surmised that she didn't understand. “Magic. I'm using magic to make things move.”

Smartypants looked at Rarity's horn then at the floating objects and back. “Can I do magic?”

The brushing stopped for a moment. During that moment, Rarity was transported to another place and time that she could not see or hear, but she could feel. For reasons she couldn't fathom, the question, and its answer, saddened her deeply. “I... I don't know. When we get to Ep, I'll ask if you can and... well, we'll see what's what when we do.”

“Really?” Smartypants beamed. “I would like very much to learn it. Thank you Rarity, you would do that for me?”

“Of course, dear. That's what friends do; they help each other. Stars above, I know you have helped me a great deal. It's only fair that I return in kind.” The brush and other objects floated to her saddlebags, which placed themselves on the white unicorn's back. Opal attempted to slink away, but Rarity had been watching the cat from the corner of her eye and quickly scooped her up, complaints and all, and stuffed her into her basket. With everything situated and a last bemused glance at the room, Rarity turned to her stuffed friend. “Lead the way, Smartypants. Let's see this statue.”

Smartypants giggled and bounced with glee over to the front door. “It's right over there, see? Not far,” she informed Rarity as the door opened.

Indeed, not more than twenty sceptres from the house, stood a silver-grey shape of a pony next to a tree stump and the remains of a log that probably used to belong to the stump, but had since been claimed by the various plantlife nearby. The scarecrow skipped off to the statue, though it was unclear if the skipping were intentional. Rarity paused as she pulled the door to the house shut. There was more to this place, that much she could feel, but it made no sense to her. She took the key from her bag and locked the door, but didn’t know what to do with the key.

“C’mon Rarity!” The scarecrow called, waving her hoof. “This is really interesting!”

“Coming, dear!” she called back. With a concerned look around the immediate area, she bit her lip and slipped the key back into her saddlebag.

Rarity joined the scarecrow at the statue, but something about the way it stood made her question the inanimance of it. She circled around it slowly, taking in every detail, and there was no shortage to take in. The metal pony stood on three legs, one of its forelegs bent as if taking a step forward. It seemed to be made of all the same metal. It was in several pieces, held together with interlocking bits which would give a remarkable range of motion. The light colored metal had a dull cast to it, as if it had been exposed to the elements for a very long time. Runnells of rust and rough patches of oxidation marred the surface, but underneath the rust, dust, and dirt, Rarity could see delicate scrolls and fine filigree etched into the metal. The legs were quite curious. A series of cogs, wheels, springs, and levers fit together in a way that seemed impossible. Even the plates that protected parts of the gears and wheels were etched with flowing scrolls. A tail sprouted from the metal pony’s back made of the same grey metal, segmented along its length and etched to invoke the weave of a thick braid. The shoulders of this detailed metal pony flowed into the barrel almost seamlessly due to the overlapping and interlocking plates. Small openings on both showed what looked like sockets for a crank. The neck arched up and out, with thin, segmented sheets sprouting out of it along the ridge that were shaped to imitate a flowing mane. But most remarkable of all was its head. A beautiful face was turned to the sky with delicate ears pointing straight up. Rust trails followed the subtle shape of the cheeks from stunning eyes of emerald. The expression of this metal pony clutched at her heart. It was so full of emotion, so real, she thought she could see a glimmer of life in those gems. It looked to the sky as if surprised, but there were deeper casts to the face, as if sorrowful. It may have been the runnells of rust, making it look like the pony was perpetually crying. Or was it?

“I think it can move.”

Rarity jumped at Smartypants’ sudden declaration. “What makes you say that, dear?” She put a hoof to her heart, breathing deeply.

“All these pieces,” the scarecrow mused, leaning closer to the metal pony, “it looks like a lot of work for something that doesn’t move.”

Rarity raised an eyebrow at the metal pony. “Yes, I suppose. But if it could move before,” Rarity asked herself, “why isn’t it moving now?”

“Hey! What’s this? It wooks wike som’in impor-nt.” The scarecrow lifted her head so that Rarity could see what she had in her mouth. “I fink it bewongs to her. See?”

Rarity took the thing from Smartypants’ mouth, floating it in front of her for a better look. “Did you say, her?” she asked absentmindedly.

“Yes, I think she looks like a she. She’s very pretty.”

Rarity glanced at the metal pony. “Yes, she is.” Rarity studied Smartypants' find. On one end it had a flat piece that looked like it would be easy to grip with one’s hooves. This was connected perpendicular to a longer piece which ended at another ninety degree angle and was capped by a metal bit with six flat sides. It looked like a crank, the sort one would use with a grandfather clock. She eyed the metal pony's shoulder, and floated the crank over to the socket. It fit perfectly. “Hm,” she said, nodding to Smartypants, “you were right, it does belong to her. What do you think? Should we give it a turn?”

The scarecrow nodded, shaking the hay in her head.

Rarity took the crank by the handle with a cloud of blue magic and gave it a solid push. Nothing.

“Try again, Rarity,” Smartypants encouraged.

She gave the crank another good push. It turned only a hair with a loud screech of metal grating on itself. Rarity kept pushing, letting little lady-like grunts escape. She even grabbed the handle with her forehooves and leaned against it. The crank moved another hair but this time they could hear other clicks and creaks from the metal mare. She made quite a show, but most of it was real, about coaxing the crank to turn, making sure to release squeaks and protests at just the right times. Despite her adorable effort, she couldn’t convince the crank to turn any more. The white unicorn stopped, glancing at the scarecrow. “I don't know if this is going to work, everything is awfully rusted.”

Smartypants looked around, turning a full circle where she stood. “Ooo!” She exclaimed, trotting over to a nearby tree stump.

Rarity watched with a raised eyebrow as the stuffed pony came back with another metal artifact in her mouth.

She placed it on the ground in front of Rarity then turned her head to the side inquisitively. “Would this help?”

“How do you find these things so quickly?”

“I don't know,” she replied, shifting her eyes in one of her blinks.

“Well, this looks like just the thing to help.”

“What's it called?”

“This is an oil can, darling. It has oil in it, and that will loosen up the rust and let us turn the crank.”

“What’s a crank?”

“The other thing you found, what I was trying to turn.”

“Oooh, okay,” the scarecrow studied the crank for a second. Rarity waited for the inevitable question. “What does it do?”

“Well, I don’t know exactly, but I think this pony runs on springs, like a clock. She was probably out walking and forgot to give herself a wind so she stopped moving, just like a clock.”

“Ahhh.... What’s a clock?”

Rarity laughed and patted Smartypants on the cheek with a hoof. “You’re adorable, dear.”

“Thank you!”

Rarity had to jiggle the crank out of its socket, but a few dainty sounds of frustration seemed to persuade it. Two quick squirts of oil from the can were soon working their way into the dusty, rusty and delicate gears, cogs and wheels. Rarity never claimed to have any sort of affinity with machines and the like, but she figured another squirt or two, here and there, wouldn’t hurt. Smartypants followed the white unicorn around the metal pony, watching what the oil did as it soaked into the nooks and crannies.

“I think that ought to do it,” Rarity declared, flipping some strands of purple mane from her face.

“Do what?” The scarecrow gave the metal pony a few experimental prods.

“Loosen things up,” the fashionista said, floating the crank back to the socket. “Here goes...”

The first push yielded a single click, the second yielded more. The crank turned easier and easier the more it went around, clacking and clanking all the way. Rarity grew more and more concerned with every full turning. Other clicks sounded from elsewhere in the metal mare, as well as little dings like tiny tin bells. The crank began to slow, the spring getting to its full wind. The metal mare was definitely ticking now; the sharp snicks and chinks of countless moving parts filled the morning air. It was all very impressive, but nothing other than noise seemed to be happening. A few seconds of this passed as Rarity studied the metal mare’s shoulder.

“Rarity?” Smartypants murmured.

“Mmyes, darling,” Rarity said slowly, squinting at a spinning wheel just under the shoulder.

“Do you hear that?”

“What, dear?”

“Talking. I think she’s talking.”

Rarity furrowed her brow and studied the metal pony’s face. “Well,” she said, smiling at the scarecrow, “clocks tick and tock, but rarely talk. Are you sure you—”

“Um-hu-smmd.”

“What was that?” The fashionista whirled in around, earning her second hiss of the day from Opal.

“It was her,” Smartypants declared, walking up to the metal pony. “Say it again, go on.” She encouraged.

“Um-hu-smmd. Hm-crmnk.”

“Other side?” Smartypants interpreted. “Other side, is that right, erm, the left side?”

“Ymm-hm,” murmured the metal mare.

“Her left side? Do we need to oil it? Wait... She’s talking!” Rarity put a hoof to her chest.

“Yes she is,” Smartypants said proudly. “Now, what was that other part?”

“Hm-crmmk.”

“The crank? There’s something on the left side for the crank?”

Both the scarecrow and white unicorn leaned to the side. In the tin pony's left shoulder was another socket identical to the right.

Rarity floated the crank over and it fit snugly into place. “Well,” she mused to herself, “I don't suppose I should be surprised. I am traveling with a talking scarecrow, why not a talking clockwork pony?” She turned the crank to the chorus of clicks and dings, with the grateful mutterings of the metal mare providing a melody. This spring took a lot more turning, but eventually the crank stopped and the tin woodmare jerked to life.

“Oooh yeah... That's much better!” The tin mare exclaimed, putting her raised hoof down and slowly relaxing her neck. “Don't know how long I've been stuck like that. It was mighty lucky you two happened by this way, from what I remember, the house is quite aways ferm neh rerred... Mm, a lerl herp herr.” The metal pony gestured to her jaw, which had gotten stuck to one side.

“Oh... yes of course, dear,” The oil can zipped through the air in a cloud of magic to administer a helping of clear oil.

The tin mare worked her jaw up and down with a satisfied sigh. “Many thanks there. Beg your pardon, but, what would your name be, sugarcube?”

Rarity was momentarily lost in the sound of the metal mare's voice. It was surprisingly clear and melodic as if she spoke with the strings of a viola, deep and full. She blinked at the metal pony, finally rejoining her strange companions. “I’m sorry... what did you call me?”

“Uh,” the tin mare shot a glance at the scarecrow, who shrugged unhelpfully. “I called you ‘sugarcube’. Sorry but, you just seemed sweet and you’re white like one, so... I thought it was a bit nicer than calling you just Miss...”

“Rarity.” The white unicorn finished for her, forcing a smile.

“Rarity, well that’s a mighty pretty name. Can’t say I’ve heard its like before. So are you from the south then?” She asked, moving her legs around, testing her mobility.

“I’m uh, not from around here.”

“That’s right,” Smartypants chimed in, “Rarity fell right out of the sky, in a house.” She nodded proudly, having demonstrated her knowledge about something at last.

“Oh.” The tin pony raised an ornate eyebrow at the unicorn. “Well that sure is different. But, I’m glad all the same. Doesn’t matter to me how yah got here or where yah came from. If there’s anything I can do for yah, anything at all, please let me know. I don’t know how I can ever thank you for getting me out of that bind.”

“It—it was nothing, darling,” Rarity said smiling for real this time. “It was more of an accident anyway, and a happy one at that.” She couldn’t shake the feeling that this metal mare would look quite dashing in a good old Stetson. “If you don’t mind me asking,” she continued, pushing hats, and the substantial collection she had left behind, out of her mind, “how did you get stuck out here so far away from anywhere?”

The tin pony’s face clinked into a sober expression.

“You don’t have to say anything, dear. I was just curious.” Rarity said quickly.

“No, no,” the metal mare said, waving a hoof with a few squeaks. She eyed her hoof before putting it down and sighed. It sounded like a bow drawn across every string. “I think I ought to tell somepony.” She took a moment to look around.

Smartypants sat down patiently by Rarity and gazed intently at the metal mare. The white unicorn found herself waiting with bated breath, hoping to catch every bit of the story.

The metal mare turned back to her little audience with her eyes closed. “It all happened a long time ago, real long ago, by the looks of things. I wasn’t always around, but I’ve been here for a long, long time.” She opened her eyes, the light of the morning sun glinting in the soulful depths of the brilliant emeralds. “He was a good stallion,” the tin mare reflected softly.

“Who was?” Smartypants inquired, leaning forward.

The metal mare smiled. “A tinsmith, and a darn good one too; he made me, after all. He... he was special, and I guess everypony else knew that too. I remember ponies coming from far and wide, Triplings from the south, Whinnies from the west, Punchins from the east and Steeples to the north, they’d all come and ask after him.” Her smile faded. “He wasn’t happy when those other ponies would come. I didn’t understand at first, but he was pretty wealthy and influential. Those other ponies would pretend to be his friends, just to help themselves to his money and influence. I never cared about any of that stuff...” The tin pony gave a sorrowful look to the old house. “He would tell me how lonely he felt, even surrounded by other ponies. He was tired of being lonely, so he used his talent to make me. I was the last automaton he ever made, and he claimed I was the best.” She smiled at the memory, but her expression closed into sorrow once more. “He was the best at what he did, and he made sure to make me special, properly special. He was very proud, and rightly so. He told me every day how beautiful I was, how I was the best friend he ever had.... Then... then he would ask me if I loved him.... I could never answer.”

“Why not?” Smartypants asked in a small voice.

“It sounds like you cared deeply for him,” Rarity added.

The other mare grimaced. “That’s the thing, though isn’t it?” she said, closing her eyes. “The tinsmith made me completely out of tin, one metal, so I can’t lie.”

“Why would he do that?” Rarity asked, her eyes wide.

The tin mare shrugged. “That’s the only way I would be able to think for myself. I’m not like the other machines he made. I’m my own pony, but pure metals stay true, no matter what...”

“I still don’t understand, darling,” Rarity stepped forward, putting a hoof on the metal mare’s shoulder. “It sounds like you loved him, and he loved you, why couldn’t you tell him?”

“Well, I don’t have a heart, you see.” She tapped her chest with a hoof, causing a metal piece to swing out on cleverly hidden hinges that revealed hundreds of gears and wheels, levers and cogs, turning at different rates, ticking the seconds away. She closed the panel with another sigh. “You have to have a heart to love, and I knew I didn’t have one. I couldn’t love. But rather than say no, I never told him one way or the other. This went on for many years, how many I can’t recall. But every day, I wanted to say that I did. I wanted to see him happy... I wanted that more than anything in the world. Well, time went on. He got old, I stayed the same. He got sick, I cared for him. He died, I buried him.” With the creak of hinges out of practice, the metal mare’s head sagged toward the ground.

“Oh... oh dear,” Rarity said, at a loss as to what to do. “That’s... I’m sorry.”

The tin pony smiled. “It’s okay, Rarity,” she said kindly. “It happened a long time ago, and well, there’s not much I can do about it now... after he was gone, I didn’t quite know what to do with myself. I went back to work, cutting down trees, keepin’ the forest from running over the road.... I was mighty preoccupied, didn’t even notice the clouds moving in. Before I knew it, I was caught in a rainstorm. I had forgotten about my springs, I was so troubled, and by the time I got the crank out, well, I had already started to rust. Next thing I know, you two come around and save me.”

“What will you do now?” The scarecrow asked, shifting her weight even farther forward so that her hind legs lifted off of the ground precariously.

The tin pony took another look around, her gaze resting on the house for long while. “I don’t know,” lamented the strings. “It would take an army of me just to get those trees under control. No offence to any smiths out there, but there just won’t be another tinsmith like him.” She paused, flicking her tail, and shuffling her hooves. “It hurts too much to stay here...”

The words were so soft, the strings barely vibrating, that had Rarity not been paying as close attention as she had been, the forest would have stolen them away.

“We could be your friends!” Smartypants blurted out before Rarity could console the the metal mare.

The smile returned to the tin pony’s face. “That’s rather kind of you, but I don’t want to be a burden.”

Rarity took a quick step forward. “Nonsense, darling, you wouldn’t be a burden at all. It would be our pleasure to be your friends. But first, I think proper introductions are in order. I, as you know, am Rarity, and this is Smartypants. We’re on our way to the Ruby City, to see the Dragon.”

The metal mare’s ears perked forward. “The Dragon, eh? Well my name is... uh, you know, I don’t know if I had one.... If I did I plumb forgot it.”

“Don’t worry,” Smartypants exclaimed, putting a stuffed leg around the tin woodmare’s shoulders, “Rarity will give you a new name. She did for me, and I couldn’t be happier.”

“Really?” Emerald eyes searched out Rarity’s own sapphire.

“Well, of course. If you would like, I can give you a name... I suppose.”

“I would like that.”

“Very well then...” Rarity circled the metal pony, trying to make sense of the strange feelings that assailed her ever since she first saw the tin automaton. As with Smartypants, she felt that she should somehow know this pony. For all that both of them were talking, living, objects, she felt like she shared some kindred with them. They were important to her, and she couldn’t fathom why. “You cut down trees right? That’s your job?”

The tin pony shrugged. “I can do other things, but yeah, essentially. My hooves are sharp as axes, and I can buck harder and more precisely than any normal pony. Why, I could fell one of these big ol’ trees in less than a minute.”

“Hmm,” Rarity mused, putting a hoof under her chin. “I’ll call you... Lumberjack.”

The resulting smile on the metal mare’s face made her eyes sparkle in a most satisfactory way. “Lumberjack, I like it. Got a ring to it.”

“Haha! Lumberjack, are you going to come with us?” Smartypants blurted once again. “I would love it if you did,” the scarecrow sheepishly added.

“Well sure!” Lumberjack said, her viola happy as can be. “What’re you gonna do, well, when you go see the Dragon?”

“I’m going to see if he’ll give me a brain!” Smartypants exclaimed. “You know, I’m just a scarecrow, I don’t have any brains at all. When I do have some, I’ll learn so many things! It will be wonderful, right Rarity?”

“Certainly, dear.”

Lumberjack laughed, a bright and vigorous chord filling the air. “And what about you, Rarity? What will you ask the Dragon?”

“Well, I’ll be asking if he can help me get home.” A home that was getting harder and harder to remember, she added to herself. “What about you, Lumberjack? Are you going to ask him anything?”

“Me?” she asked, surprised. “Well, I... I would...” She frowned, metal pieces pivoting on her brow. “You think the Dragon can give me a heart?” the strings whispered.

“I think he can,” Rarity said gently. “If he's powerful enough to help me, and he can give Smartypants a brain, he most certainly can give you a heart.” The white unicorn pulled a soft kerchief from her saddlebags and put a smattering of oil on it. “Even if he can't, I would be happy to have you with us no matter what,” she said, wiping away the runnels of rust on Lumberjack's cheeks.

“Thank you,” she muttered to Rarity. “It would mean a lot to me. Even though he isn't here anymore, I'd like to be able to say that I could love him. Having a home is good, and brains are fine and dandy, but without a heart, not all the knowledge in the world would mean anything and a house is just a house,” she declared.

“It feels good make new friends!” Smartypants nuzzled up to Lumberjack.

“Heheh, it sure does. Should we get a move-on then? The Ruby City’s not gettin’ any closer with us standing here!”

The three new companions laughed together as they set off down the overrun road, singing a happy ditty that went something like:

“We’re off to see the Dragon

The Delightful Dragon of Ep

We hear he is a terrible beast

Famously from west to east

And of the city he would make a feast

But he won’t, he won’t, he won’t, he won’t

Because of the most Delightful part!

We’re off to see the Dragon,

The Delightful Dragon of Ep!”

In the attic of the abandoned house, a swirl of dust angrily forced its way through the holes around the little window. Had our trio been looking, they would have been startled at how pink it was.

Comments

[TheMessenger]

“I’ll call you... Lumberjack.”

I don't know why but that line made me grin like an idiot.

[djthomp]

3831919 Same here. I had a feeling that this was going to be the tin mare reveal, but even expecting it it was still very well done.