> Trixie Lulamoon and the Horrendous Hypothesis
>  by kudzuhaiku
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Trixie Lulamoon and the Horrendous Hypothesis.







Sitting upon a large, flat stone that had been warmed by the late afternoon sun, Sumac watched as Trixie Lulamoon chopped up potatoes, carrots, celery, and parsnips. Trixie, who was somewhat impatient, peered through the lower half of her bifocals, puckering her lips while huffing and puffing, trying to keep her silvery blue mane out of her face while she worked. 

At least, Trixie insisted it was silver. To Sumac, it looked a bit more grey, but he never said much about it; there was no point in antagonising Trixie. There was, however, something he wanted to say, but he was afraid to say it. Saying what was on his mind would involve making an admission of guilt, not to mention it might make Trixie upset with him. He didn’t want his teacher upset with him. He liked Trixie. She had been quite good to him, all things considered. 

He watched as a portion of the chopped vegetables went into a cast iron skillet and his ears perked as they sizzled. Trixie was already busy chopping up more vegetables to be tossed into the skillet to make vegetable stew; the same vegetable stew they ate almost every day. 

“Trixie?” Sumac’s voice was squeaky, much to his chagrin. He was at that age when his voice kept breaking. He hated it and did his best to deal with it, which for Sumac, meant staying quiet for much of the time. 

“Yes?” Trixie replied as she continued chopping up vegetables on the battered, well marked wooden cutting board she had sitting on top of a small, portable folding table. 

“Why did you take me in?” Sumac asked. 

The knife stopped and he saw Trixie looking at him, angling her head upwards so she could see him through the lower lenses of her bifocals. After a moment of tilting her head up and down, she peered at him through the upper lenses. One ear made a lazy attempt to stand up straight, but after a few twitches, it laid back down, coming to rest near the edge of Trixie’s eye. Her forelock spilled back down over her face and she sputtered as she tried to blow it out from her vision. 

“I was reading your journal… I saw what you wrote about me.” Sumac looked into Trixie’s eyes, not certain what he was seeing, wondering if she would be angry, her moods could be described as mercurial at best. 

The sharp knife resumed its motion, cutting and chopping, the edge tapping against the notched wooden cutting board. Trixie was still looking through the upper lenses of her bifocals at Sumac, the corner of her mouth was twitching, and her ear made another lazy attempt to stand up once more. The other ear didn’t even bother, it had given up trying long ago. 

“How far did you get?” Trixie asked as she continued chopping. One silvery blue eyebrow raised and she tilted her head off to one side as she looked at Sumac. “You should keep reading.” 

“You didn’t answer my question.” Sumac, still sitting upon his stone, watched as more vegetables went into the skillet. 

“Yes, Sumac, when I took you in, it was for the bits,” Trixie admitted as she stirred the vegetables in the pot. “It’s complicated. I was younger and far more foolish back then. I did a lot of things I’m not proud of. Is this what you were wondering?” 

“So why did you keep me?” Sumac asked, intrigued, curious, wanting and hoping to know more. He liked it when Trixie told him stories. She was a good story teller. 

Trixie took a deep breath as she added a bit more butter and some flour to the cast iron skillet. She stirred, using a wooden spoon, her expression thoughtful. She opened her mouth, but no words came out, and after a moment, her lips pressed back together as she shook her head. 

“Trixie?” 

“Kiddo, I’m trying over here… don’t tell anypony, but I think I’m getting old.” Trixie’s eyes narrowed and she squinted through her eyeglasses. “I don’t know what to say or where to start, Sumac.” 

Blinking, Sumac gave Trixie a hopeful look, the sort of look that only a foal could make. Reaching up with his front hoof, the unicorn colt brushed his own mane out of his face, never once taking his eyes off of Trixie. 

“Quite some time ago, Princess Twilight Sparkle began the friendship movement,” Trixie began as the skillet beside her sizzled. “One of the special friendships she believed in was the relationship between a student and a mentor. She created a program based upon this idea because of her own best friend, Rainbow Dash, and a little filly that was Rainbow Dash’s friend, Scootaloo. Rainbow Dash acted like Scootaloo’s big sister, she became Scootaloo’s mentor. They had a special relationship and Princess Twilight Sparkle spent a lot of time studying it.” 

Listening, Sumac watched as Trixie took off her eyeglasses and set them down upon the table in front of her. The breeze, deciding to be helpful, blew and lifted a few loose strands of mane out of Trixie’s face. 

“Princess Twilight believed that every foal needed a mentor, that this was one of the foundations that made future friendships possible. She herself mentored the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Wanting to make this happen, Twilight offered financial incentives to mentor a foal, free bits—all one had to do was mentor a foal and free bits were yours for the taking.” 

Trixie took a deep breath, shook her head, stirred the food she was cooking, and added some water to the pot, which fizzled and steamed. She began to open a tin of tomato paste with a can opener as she thought about what to say next. She added the tomato paste to the skillet, the contents slid out of the tin and landed with a plop in the pan. 

“Free bits… I began plotting on how I could get me a few free bits. But I didn’t have a student. I had nopony to mentor.” Trixie closed her eyes for a moment, looking a bit sad, and when she opened her eyes, she put a lid down upon the skillet so the contents could simmer. 

“About this time, your parents, Flam Apple and Belladonna, were arrested. It was a pretty big deal, Equestria was going through a major reform at the time, they were cracking down on criminals, and they made a public example of Flam Apple and Belladonna for what they had done. I saw you in the paper and I saw a perfect opportunity.” 

Sumac Apple, sitting on his flat, smooth stone, frowned. 

Even with her poor vision, Trixie could see Sumac frowning, and Trixie smiled. “I went and I got all schmoozy with Twilight Sparkle about how I was trying to turn over a new leaf. I told her how brilliant her mentoring program was… and I casually mentioned that there was a foal that had just lost both of his parents. I’ll admit, I laid it on pretty thick, telling her that I alone could understand you and your special needs, because I was already a social pariah. I was an outcast.” Trixie blinked, reached up with her right foreleg, and wiped her eyes. “Truth be told, I actually felt bad for you… it seemed as though everypony hated you just because of what your parents did… Trixie Lulamoon felt pity for you.” 

Ears pivoting forwards, Sumac listened, but said nothing. Trixie rarely mentioned herself in the third pony anymore, only slipping into old habits when she was excited, scared, or emotional for whatever reason. 

“Princess Twilight Sparkle… my old nemesis, or at least I used to believe that. I thought I had outwitted her, I’ll admit, it felt pretty good, I thought I had her conned. She agreed with me. She made me your guardian, something that got me even more bits, and I was also your mentor.” Trixie cleared her throat. “Yes, Sumac, in the beginning, it was all about the bits. Yes, I spent a lot of time gloating about how I had pulled one over on Twilight Sparkle. I was a different pony back then.” 

Trixie put her glasses back on, her glistening eyes blinking away tears. “I’ve changed since then. I kept my old journals to remind me how I was. I’ve grown very fond of you, Sumac. I’m not very good at showing it, however.” 

From where he was sitting, Sumac watched as Trixie got up from where she was sitting and come over to him. He sat there, blinking, not knowing what he was feeling, and stared as she approached. She stood, looking down at him, her eyes moist, he could hear her breath whistling in her nostrils, which flexed with every breath she took. Much to Sumac’s surprise, he felt two lips press up against him, just to the left of his horn, near his left ear. Her soft touch made him shiver, and when she pulled away, a part of him felt sad. Uncertain of what to do, Sumac lunged forwards, threw his forelegs around Trixie’s neck, and squeezed, not wanting to let her go. He felt afraid, not understanding his own feelings, he felt overwhelmed, and the young colt could not remember ever feeling the way he did at this moment. As he clung to Trixie’s neck, the tears began to flow. 



 

Staring up at the stars, young Sumac was silent. The fire was little more than coals now, which crackled and popped on occasion. He was trying to remember his mother and father, Belladonna and Flam Apple, both of whom were locked away in prison. Try as he might, he couldn’t remember very much about them. 

Overhead, the stars twinkled, welcoming the moon as it rose up higher into the nighttime sky. Sumac glanced over at Trixie, who was reading a book, and then returned his gaze to the stars. The night was chilly, almost cold, and would become cold later, no doubt. Sumac suspected that Trixie would pull him into bed with her, he had long been ‘Trixie’s little bed warmer,’ or at least, he had been. Now that he was getting older, it was becoming awkward. He had his own little bunk in the wagon, a bed that folded down from the wall. 

Turning his head, Sumac tried to look at Trixie without looking at her, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. She was teaching him magic, he wasn’t very good at it, but she had never given up, insisting they had not found the magic that he was good at yet. She had taught him other things as well, such as bartering, dealing with things that had great big pointy teeth, and magical repair. There was also wagon maintenance. Something was always breaking on the wagon. 

From what little Sumac knew, Trixie had once been The Great and Powerful Trixie, a showmare, and she had worn out her welcome in every city in Equestria, or so the story went. At some point, she had become Trixie, Magician for Hire, a traveling magical tinkerer, and Sumac had become her pupil. They had the wagon, some tools, some books, as well as a barrel filled with dirt where they grew potatoes, carrots, and parsnips. 

“Sumac?” 

Hearing his name, Sumac was jolted from his thoughts. He blinked once, and then focused upon Trixie, worried, wondering if she had noticed that he was staring. 

“You’re awfully quiet, even more than usual,” Trixie said to Sumac. “You must have something on your mind. You are such a serious little colt for your age.” The unicorn mare’s expression softened. “Sometimes I worry if I’ve been a good caretaker for you. You’re not like other foals. Sometimes… sometimes Trixie becomes scared that she has messed up in some horrible way.” 

“I like the life we have,” Sumac said, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. 

“Really?” Trixie lifted her head higher, pulling away from her book. Her glowing horn cast shadows upon her face, making her look ghostly. 

Put on the spot, Sumac fumbled around for a reply, his lips moving, but no words came out this time, no matter how hard he tried. He began to feel the hot flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck and into his cheeks.

“We move around from place to place. You don’t have any friends. A colt your age should have friends. I worry about this a lot.” Trixie shook her head. “We’re poor, Sumac, but we’re honest, and that’s important.” 

“I dunno,” Sumac shrugged, struggling to find something to say, “it’s not so bad. I’ve learned a bunch of stuff. Every day there is a new place or there is something new to see and I get to learn about it, like Equestria’s largest ball of rubber bands or the biggest bandaid collection.” 

“How goes your studies?” Trixie asked. 

Sumac was relieved that the subject was changed and heaved a sigh of relief. 

“Do you think you can wow Twilight Sparkle when we enter that contest?” Trixie looked hopeful and there was a playful smile lurking on her muzzle. “It isn’t even about the bits, although we could use new axles for the wagon… but I, Trixie, would very much like to show Twilight that I haven’t been a total failure.” 

The contest. Trixie kept bringing it up. Sumac was in quite a pickle. The goal, as it was, was to impress Princess Twilight Sparkle. The Princesses, all of them, were looking for the best and the brightest. There were all kinds of prizes and rewards, ranging from a handsome payment of bits to a chance to attend school on a scholarship. The problem, as Sumac had discovered, it was very difficult to study while on the road. The books were limited, the time they spent in towns was limited, and small towns with libraries were few and far between. Sumac had ideas, but he did not have answers. 

“Not to worry,” Sumac replied, smiling, “I’ve got this one in the bag. Twilight will be wowed.” Sumac felt his stomach flop around inside of his ribs and along his sides. He gulped, being around Trixie had taught him quite a bit about confidence. He felt a bead of cold, chilly sweat go rolling down the back of his neck. 

“I knew you had it in you…” 
	
	
> Chapter 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Trixie’s sides were heaving as she pulled the wagon. Sumac walked beside her, worried, knowing that he was too small to help. He had slipped into the harness once, which didn’t fit him at all, and found that he couldn’t even make the wagon budge. Trixie was having trouble getting the wagon up the incline. She’d been having a lot more trouble as of late. 

It was one of the many things Sumac worried about. Everything they had depended on the wagon. They moved from town to town, place to place, crossroads to crossroads, and everything they had was in the tall, narrow, creaky wagon. It was almost painful to listen to the squealing of the axles, both of which needed to be replaced. The wheels needed replacing too; they had been broken and repaired with magic so many times that it was now difficult to piece them back together. Each new break caused all of the old repairs to come apart, turning the wagon wheel into a puzzle that had to be put back together whenever it broke. 

There was a lot to worry about; if the wagon broke and could not be fixed, they would be in trouble. If Trixie could no longer pull the wagon, they would be in trouble. It would be the end of everything and there was nothing that Sumac could do about it. He was far too little to pull the wagon and lacked the magical skill to make serious repairs. 

As Sumac walked beside Trixie, he wondered if ponies who lived in houses worried about their houses. He had never lived in a house, ever. From what little he knew about his parents, Flam Apple and Belladonna, they had been on the run when he was born. He had little memory about that time in his life, he had trouble remembering how old he had been when Trixie had become his guardian and his teacher. Had he been a yearling? The only thing he could remember was that he had always been on the road. 

Now, years later, he had walked all over Equestria, he had walked over every hill, every rise, walked through every valley, he had been everywhere, from Winsome Falls to Equestria’s most picturesque volcano, Mount Maud. For Sumac, the wagon was home. It was where he rested his head. It was where he and Trixie took shelter when there was a deluge. The wagon was important, perhaps the most important thing they had, but Sumac lacked the means to express just how important it was to him, or why. 

The only thing he could do was walk beside Trixie, a worried scowl on his face, wishing that he could share the load, wishing that he was bigger, stronger, not a little colt but a stallion, and his mind entertained strange notions of somehow being able to provide for Trixie to make up for all of the ways and means she had provided for him. 

As they made their way to Ponyville, Sumac had been reading Trixie’s journals, Trixie had written down much of her story of life on the road, even the unflattering awful stuff. The low points, back when she was still The Great and Powerful Trixie, something that Trixie as she was now was embarrassed about. It was fascinating reading about her and seeing when the changes had taken place. Almost every change that had happened was because of him, in some form or another. In Trixie’s writings he had gone from the whiny little colt that wouldn’t stop crying to something precious that she fretted a great deal about. Entire journal entries detailed Trixie’s fear of not being able to provide, her fear of failing as a teacher, her dread that she wasn’t giving him the kind of life he deserved. 

Trixie had changed and her journals contained a roadmap of her many changes. Reading them had left Sumac feeling weird, confused, and comforted. He had an understanding of where she had come from, where they had been, but he had no idea where they were going. 

“We’ll be in the White Tail Woods soon,” Trixie announced. “I think we might make it to Percheron’s Palisades. After that, it will be downhill, for the most part, until we get to Ponyville, which is just beyond the White Tail Woods.” 

“What’s a palisades?” Sumac asked. 

“A type of fence or fortification,” Trixie replied, almost panting. 

“Is it a fort?” Sumac peered ahead, trying to see through the trees, wondering if he could catch a glimpse of it before they reached it.

“No, well, yes and no. Percheron was a noble knight, a pegasus, and his best friend, a minotaur named Henry David Taureau, came to the aid of a group of ponies. At the time, the settlement had no name, it was just a collection of farms and a windmill.” Trixie gulped in some much needed air and her gait slowed down a bit. 

Looking up at Trixie, Sumac felt a little bit worried. 

“Percheron and Taureau discovered that these ponies were being bullied by a group of bandits, a gang of baddies that roamed the woods.” Trixie licked her lips as a look of determination crept over her face. “Taureau was something of a lumberjack, he had a big axe and he went to work, cutting down trees. He made a fence of sharpened logs around the windmill, making a place for the ponies of the settlement to go if there was trouble.” 

Sumac, entranced, listened with rapt attention. Trixie knew so much lore from her travels. Trixie had the real history of Equestria, tales told by the fireside after a long day, stories exchanged by old timers and lorekeepers. For Sumac, it was one of the best things about being on the road, at the end of a day of hard work, there were usually stories to be told. 

“The bandits were an awful bunch, a group of ponies and some diamond dogs. They didn’t see the point in farming… they just took what they needed with no care for how they hurt others. Percheron, a knight errant, decided that it was time for the bandits to meet their end and he made plans to defend the farmers.” 

While Trixie had slowed down a bit, she was still moving at a regular pace, her mind now distracted from her labours. She walked with a smile even though her sides heaved from her efforts. 

“He and Taureau taught the farmers to band together and tried to teach them how to fight. Percheron was educated, he was charismatic, and he said the words that the farmers needed to hear to give them courage, to make them brave, he inspired them to fight.” 

Charisma. Trixie often used it on him when he was feeling down. From what he understood, charisma was word magic of some kind. Trixie was good at word magic. She was great at giving him confidence when he was down in the dumps. She had a knack for getting him to believe in himself, that he could do something, even if it seemed impossible. It was something that Sumac loved about Trixie, because he always had so much fear and doubt. 

“There was a big battle, farmers versus bandits, the bandits came to teach the farmers a lesson… the bandits had to fight… if the bandits didn’t fight, other farmers might get brave and start standing up to them, so they had to teach the farmers a lesson. The battle was fierce. Percheron flew around Taureau, trying to protect him, and Taureau used his big axe not for cutting down trees, but for cutting down bandits. Some of the farmers lost their nerve, they became fearful and they fled, running away from the battle. Others held on, believing in what Percheron had told them.” 

As he listened, Sumac wondered what he would do in a battle. 

“Battles are terrible things,” Trixie said as her smile turned into a frown. She kept her eyes focused on the road ahead and her ears bobbed up and down with each step she took. Little puffs of dust came up off of the road with each hooffall. “One of the diamond dogs ran Percheron through with a spear, impaling him, and killing him. In a rage, Taureau cut the diamond dog in half, going berserk upon his enemies. The farmers, seeing that Percheron had given his life for them, gained a new ferocity. Percheron had died for them, he had died trying to protect them, and he had asked for nothing in return for defending them. His death gave them strength, a strength they did not know they had, and with this strength, they won the battle.” 

Sumac mused on Trixie’s words; there was a lesson to be learned here, an important lesson. He thought about everything that Trixie had said, trying to piece together the lesson he had been given. The little colt’s face scrunched up as he concentrated. 

“Taureau was devastated by the loss of his friend. He buried his best friend and then to deal with his grief, he rebuilt the farms that had been burned down during the battle. He built more fences. He chopped down trees and he built a city. And every day, he mourned beside the grave of his best friend. The minotaur remained, never leaving the community he protected. The town prospered under his guidance and his protection.” 

It was a sad story, but it had a good ending. Sumac liked it a great deal. It gave him a lot to think about as he walked, which would save him from boredom. These were the best sort of lessons, or so Sumac believed, these times when Trixie told him stories and tried to teach him something as they walked. It made the miles bearable. 

“The story of Percheron has a meaningful lesson, Sumac… can you tell me what it is?” Trixie, her knees creaking, continued forwards, pulling the heavy wagon towards Ponyville. 

“His death made others brave?” Sumac replied. 

“Correct.” Turning her head, Trixie glanced at Sumac and gave him a pleased smile, then turned her eyes back upon the road. “Almost nothing is known about Percheron. He was knighted by Princess Celestia and he roamed the countryside, doing what knights do, and nopony paid him very much attention. Knights were supposed to do good deeds, that was expected, so he wasn’t very special compared to other knights. Nopony wrote down his works and his deeds because he was doing his job.” 

“But by dying, he got noticed,” Sumac said, understanding what Trixie was trying to teach him.

“Percheron is remembered because of how his life ended. He died trying to defend others, trying to do the right thing, not for fame, not for glory, not to be magnificent, but because it was the right thing to do. Percheron is also remembered for his friendship with Taureau—they were fast friends, close, like brothers, their friendship touched others, it became a story for the ages. Percheron’s death inspired others to live… to have good friends, to be brave and true, to be fearless and selfless. Almost nothing else is known about his life, but it was his death that was important.” 

As he and Trixie continued down the road, Sumac wondered what it would be like to be a knight. 



 

Staring, wide eyed, Sumac Apple stared at the grave marker. An obelisk now stood where the original grave marker had once been. Carved on the obelisk was a pegasus and a minotaur, standing together, the pegasus had his wings out, looking ready, while the minotaur was holding a large axe. There were a few weeds around the obelisk, the stone was worn and faded. Seeing it this way made Sumac sad, but he didn’t know why. 

Sumac set to work pulling the weeds, using his magic, which might have been weak but was more than strong enough to yank out the offending weeds. He tried to tidy up, he wasn’t very good at it, but that never stopped him from trying. He just needed practice. 

As he moved about the memorial, pulling weeds and trying to make things look better, he found another stone, this one short, squat, and rectangular. It was covered in vines. He pulled the vines away, ripping them off, trying to get a better look at the stone beneath. 

He saw letters carved into the stone, small letters, small fine letters, a lot of them. He pulled away more vines and puffing out his cheeks, he blew on the marker stone, trying blow off some accumulated dirt. The stone told the story of what took place here, a reminder of the noble knight and his best friend. Frantic, Sumac continued to try and clean the memorial. 

He felt something warm, soft, and a bit wet brush up against him. It was Trixie. She was damp, sweaty, hot from her labours. She had parked the wagon and was now beside him. The scent of sweaty Trixie was strong in his nose. The vines were cleared away and the dirt was removed. Sumac, watching Trixie, tried to mimic her technique. 

“Sumac, if Twilight Sparkle was here, she would talk about how friendship was the defining element in this story. It was Percheron’s friendship that made his end meaningful. If Percheron had died here, and he did not have Taureau as his friend, then Percheron would have died, the farmers might have been defeated, and for all we know, Percheron might have been forgotten, lost to history. There is a lesson to be learned here, Sumac.”

A hot, clinging, uncomfortable lump rose in Sumac’s throat. He looked up at Trixie. She was tall, a comforting shade of blue, and the closest thing to a mother that he had. “Are we friends?” 

“Of course we are, silly,” Trixie replied as she picked dirt out of the letters on the memorial stone. “You are my very best friend. You might just be the only friend Trixie has, if Trixie was to be honest.” 

Hearing Trixie’s words, Sumac felt very small all of a sudden, the world felt much larger than it was. Confused by his own reaction, lacking the means to express himself, he said nothing, but pressed up against Trixie’s leg. 

“When Trixie dies, it is Trixie’s sincere hope that she will be remembered. That at least one pony will remember her fondly. Trixie used to hope for a whole lot more, but life has worn ol’ Trixie down. Trixie has simple aspirations now, like getting the wagon up a hill, having a nice meal, and making sure you are provided for. Trixie has fallen down quite a ways.” 

Blinking, Sumac felt a rush of emotion, making it difficult to think. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to express. He wanted to make his feelings known. His mouth opened, and he felt the words spilling out, but not the words he wanted. 

“When you get old, how will we move the wagon? What if I’m not big enough or strong enough?” Sumac cringed, feeling very stupid, and hating his own mouth just a little bit. He heard Trixie sigh. It was getting harder to breathe and he sort of felt like crying. 

“If the wagon survives that long… I’ll admit, my knees are giving out. I’m no earth pony. Pulling a wagon is hard on a unicorn. It scares me, Sumac, that one day, either the wagon will give out or I won’t be able to pull it. I don’t know what I’ll do. We have to keep moving if we hope to find work. This is a part of my life that I hope that nopony remembers.” 

“But this is the best part of my life… I want to remember,” Sumac said. He reached out and touched the stone marker with his hoof, tapping on it. “Without you, I wouldn’t know about stuff like this. This means something. Somepony has to remember how Percheron and Taureau were friends because it keeps their friendship alive. I want to remember them. I want to remember you… I don’t want you getting old and I don’t want our wagon breaking down.” 

Her tired knees finally giving out, Trixie sat down in the dirt beside Sumac. She draped a foreleg over Sumac’s withers, pulled him close, and then sat with him, staring at the stone marker that told the tale of Percheron and Taureau. 
	
	
> Chapter 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Ahead was Ponyville and Sumac let out a gasp when he saw the white spire of Princess Twilight Sparkle’s castle rising up above the trees. They were moving along at a good pace. There was a bit of an incline, so the trip was downhill, even if it felt like flat ground most of the time. 

After seeing Twilight’s castle, Sumac worried that he wasn’t ready. His study had been minimal. He had a question; he had a hypothesis, but that was about all he had. He had very little evidence, very little in the way to support his question. He wasn’t sure if it was a good question. While he was worried, Sumac understood that everything would be okay. Even if his question was awful, the worst that could happen is that nothing happened, and that would be okay. Life would continue on as it had, with nothing happening, nothing changing. He would have a chance to try again, perhaps. 

While this was a big deal for Trixie, Sumac didn’t want things to change too much. He liked how things were, for the most part. He liked learning about Percheron and Taureau. He liked learning how to fix clocks that projected illusions and candles that burned but never seemed to run out of wax. 

“Sumac?” 

Trixie sounded a little out of breath, but happy, and Sumac was pleased to hear that she was okay. His tiny ears perked and his slight muzzle split in a smile. “Yes?” 

“When we get to Ponyville, there are going to be a lot of foals, and all of them will be working to get the attention of the princess. Some of them are going to be unbearably smart. Some of them will have their cutie marks and they’ll have a bit of an edge.” 

Glancing up, Sumac could only see the side of Trixie’s face as they walked together. He waited as Trixie took a deep breath, his mane and tail bobbing with each prancing step. Behind him, the wagon creaked as Trixie pulled it, and the axles squealed something awful. 

“No matter what, you must not get discouraged. You don’t have a cutie mark yet. That’s not a big deal. Just means you have to work just a little bit harder to get the same results as anypony else. As for smarter ponies, you aren’t stupid. You’re a smart little colt, but you didn’t have the same advantages as those who grew up in one place.” 

This was the very sort of thing that Sumac was afraid of. He listened, his eyes locked upon Trixie, watching as her mane bounced up and down against the side of her face. The little colt stared up at his guardian with wide-eyed adoration. 

“Sumac, you have something those other foals don’t, because you grew up on the road with me. Do you know what that is?” Trixie turned her head for a moment and gave Sumac a smile. 

“Nope,” Sumac replied. 

“Kiddo, you have panache. Do you remember what that is?” Trixie turned her head once more to keep her eyes upon the dusty, rutted road. 

“Um… nope.” Sumac was trying to remember, but he kept drawing blanks. Did it have something to do with charisma?

“Panache… éclat… that certain special something. Confidence. Grace.” Trixie paused, took a deep breath, and then with a loud, theatrical, exaggerated voice she said, “A certain sense of greatness.” 

“Greatness?” Sumac’s hooves kicked up little clouds of dust with each step as he followed along after Trixie, unaware that his prancing trot had changed, now having a lot more bounce and vigor. 

“A little greatness is a good thing, kiddo. But too much greatness will leave you full of yourself. Don’t do that. I made that mistake.” Trixie’s smile faded. “Greatness has to be balanced with social grace and humility. Ponies can only take so much of greatness, sort of like how ponies can only take so much of the sun before they get sunburned or eat so many prunes before there are dangerous consequences.” 

Now giggling, Sumac understood consequences. Maybe not prunes, but he had once eaten far too many dried apricots and he had been sunburned a number of times. Too much of a good thing was certainly bad. 

“You though, Sumac, you’re little and kinda cute, so you can get away with having a little extra greatness.” Trixie tossed her head back, trying to get her forelock out of her face and draped over her ear. 

“I’m cute?” Sumac asked. 

“Kiddo, when you grow up, you’re going to make mares weak in the knees,” Trixie replied, “all that panache of yours is gonna knock them out.” 

Shuddering, Sumac felt warmth blossoming in his cheeks. Fillies were icky and he wanted nothing to do with them. For the most part, fillies were confusing, something about them frightened Sumac a great deal, and he didn’t know how to deal with them. Blinking, he looked up at Trixie, studying her, thinking about how she fit into his life. Trixie was a mare, but it was different for some reason. Trixie was… his guardian. So she wasn’t icky, she was necessary. Trixie protected him from timber wolves and other things that could gobble a foal right up. 

Looking ahead, Sumac remembered the last run in with timber wolves up near the Hollow Shades. He had stood beneath Trixie, hiding in the fortress of her legs, his head poking out from between her front knees as he had tried to be brave while blowing raspberries at the animated wooden horrors. 

The memory buoyed his confidence. He had something else that the city dwellers didn’t have. Courage. Sumac couldn’t even begin to count all of the times he had been in mortal danger. Those nights of hiding in the wagon, listening to the horrors of the night lurking all around him, like those awful, awful birds that kept talking about whipping some poor pony named Will or those giant pony eating frogs that kept him up all night. 

Puffing out his barrel, Sumac strutted. 



 

Ahead, Ponyville looked… packed. Sumac peered through the trees at the town ahead. There were wagons by the bunches. A lot of ponies had arrived, mentors and their students. Parents and their foals. Sumac had trouble even guessing how many wagons there were. Thousands. Maybe millions, but he had trouble picturing that number. It was a big number, and as such, it was difficult to comprehend. 

It wouldn’t be long now. They would pull into Ponyville, make camp somewhere, and would be able to get some rest. Perhaps Trixie would find some work. Sumac, hopeful, wondered if he could find work. Maybe he could earn a few bits doing something. If he did, he could get a comic book. His comic books were dog eared, tattered, and falling apart. Trixie kept repairing them, but magic could only do so much. 

Sighing, Sumac, after giving some thoughts to how nice it would be to have a new comic book, realised it would be better to take those bits and buy food. Or purchase new parts for the wagon. Or maybe buy a new sewing kit for Trixie. All of her needles were dull, she was almost out of thread, and there were a lot of things that needed repair, like the quilt, the tears in Trixie’s cloak, the tears in Sumac’s own cloak, which didn’t do very much to keep the rain away, their blankets, and the awning that folded out from the wagon, which had more holes than the plot of a knockoff Daring Do novel. A comic book, as nice as it might be, would have to wait. 



 

The sounds, the smells, the sights, it was all so overwhelming. Trixie had parked the wagon on the edge of town, away from the other wagons, and was now stretching her legs after freeing herself from the harness. Sumac, bashful, remained close to Trixie, watching the world around him. There were a lot of wagons. 

“Sumac, Trixie needs to go and talk to somepony about where we’re supposed to park. I need you to be a big colt—” 

“A big colt?” Sumac asked, feeling a bit overwhelmed and fearful. 

“Yes, I need you to be a big, brave colt and guard the wagon while I’m away. Just stay here, be brave, and stay with the wagon. Can you do that?” Trixie’s eyes narrowed and she gave Sumac a serious, solemn look, hoping to inspire his bravery. 

Looking around, Sumac eyed the wagons, the ponies, the pegasi flying overhead, the big crystal castle that loomed over the town, the banners saying hello to welcome the many visitors, and not too far away was an open air market. There was a lot to guard the wagon against. He looked up at Trixie, his eyes wide, and after swallowing his fear with a loud gulp, he gave her a hesitant nod. 

“You’ll be fine,” Trixie said as she continued to flex her legs. “Just be polite and if somepony says the wagon can’t be parked here, tell them that it will be moved just as soon as I know where to park it.” 

“Okay.” Sumac, a little distracted, smelled something delicious wafting over from the open air market. There was a festive, fair like atmosphere. Unable to help himself, he felt excited. He wondered if there were funnel cakes dusted with cinnamon and sugar. He liked those, they were a rare, special treat that he didn’t get very often. 

“Be good, Sumac,” Trixie said as she turned to leave. “Be the brave little colt that I know you can be.” 

Sumac, now officially on guard duty, began to circle the wagon, marching as best he could. He was a little stiff legged, but managed, and as he circled, he watched as Trixie vanished into the crowd. He had been given guard duty before and so far, he had never failed to keep the wagon safe. There had, however, been a close call with a flock of pigeons that had once tried to perch upon the wagon. Sumac knew all too well what pigeons did when they roosted on something and he had kept them away. 

No sign of pigeons in Ponyville. Trixie had once told him a story about how Discord kept the pigeons out of Ponyville. Discord, who had spent one thousand years as a statue, had a strong dislike for pigeons, and if the story Trixie had told could be believed, went through a lot of trouble to keep Ponyville pigeon free. 

The worst part of guard duty was boredom, but Sumac was resolute. He marched, because that was what guards did. He might have pronked a few times, but that was only because the long grass kept tickling his belly. 

“Well I’ll be… I thought I recognised this here wagon.” 

Turning about, Sumac saw a bright orange mare looking at him. She was wearing a hat. She was staring at the wagon, and then, much to his concern, she was staring at him. She seemed familiar, he had seen her before, at least, he thought he had. Something about her was very familiar. He stood there, frozen, staring, his eyes wide, his ears standing straight up. 

“I’ll be hogtied,” the mare breathed, “if’n it ain’t Sumac Apple.” 

When the mare started forwards towards him, Sumac turned and bolted, heading for the wagon, hoping to get inside and hide. He made it all of three or four steps before he ran into a red leg as thick as a tree trunk. He bounced, fell back on his haunches, dizzy, and sat there, stunned. 

Much to his shame, he let out a frightened squeal as he felt a foreleg wrap around his middle and scoop him up. He was lifted, turned around, and he felt two forelegs holding him, gripping him just below his own forelegs, pressing into his ribs. He saw the orange mare sitting on her haunches, her face was wrinkled and scrunched up as she studied him. 

A moment later, Sumac was crushed in a hug, being smooshed by a stranger that he wasn’t sure he knew. He kicked and wiggled, trying to get free, but she was too strong. Not knowing what else to do, he went limp and allowed himself to be hugged. 

“Sumac Apple, how ya been?” the mare asked. 

After wiggling a bit to get his head free so he could talk, he looked up, but all he could see was orange and yellow. His heart was thudding in his chest. Much to his relief, he was set down on the ground, and he could see the orange mare’s green eyes looking him over. 

“You might not remember me… I’m Applejack and this is my brother, Big Mac.” 

“Howdy,” the big red stallion with legs like tree trunks said. 

“How is Trixie? Where is she?” Applejack asked. 

Swallowing, Sumac tried to find his words. He let out a wordless squeak, swallowed again, and made another attempt. “She’s trying to find out where we can park.” 

“Ah, I see.” Applejack took off her hat and set it down in the grass beside her. “Shucks, ya’ll both can stay with us. We’ll be glad to have you.” 

“I don’t know you,” Sumac said, hoping he wasn’t being rude. 

Applejack’s broad smile faded and her face became serious. Her ears drooped a bit, and she swallowed, a visible lump traveling down her throat. “Yeah, I suppose you don’t. We had to send you away.” 

“Send me away?” Overcome with curiousity, Sumac scooted a little closer to the friendly mare, who was now looking quite sad. He felt bad for her, he felt confused, and for some reason, he felt a little like crying. The world was a big, scary place it and it was easy to get overwhelmed. 

“Sumac, do you remember your mama and your daddy?” Applejack asked. 

“A little,” Sumac replied. 

“Well, they was bad ponies. We won’t talk too much about what they did. The past is in the past.” Applejack reached down, placed her hoof beneath Sumac’s chin, tilted his head back, and looked down into Sumac’s green eyes that seemed so very much like her own. 

Entranced, Sumac listened, his ears erect and forward. 

“Belladonna and Flam Apple did some awful stuff. They hoodwinked Ponyville with a get rich quick scheme that a lot of ponies fell for. I tried to warn them, but ain’t nopony listened to me. They wanted to get rich.” Applejack paused, pulled her hoof away from Sumac’s chin for a moment, and then stroked his cheek with the soft touch of her fetlock. “Somehow, in all the chaos, you were born and you slowed your parents down enough that they got caught.” 

“Eeyup.” 

“Now, we thought about keeping you, and I talked to my friends about it, ‘cause I trust them to help me with hard decisions.” Applejack’s face became somewhat pained. “We was all worried that ponies would take out their anger on you ‘cause o’ what happened. I didn’t want you growing up with ponies telling you how rotten your daddy was everyday, or what a horrible mare your mother was. That didn’t strike me as being fair to you.” 

Blinking, Sumac felt tears stinging his eyes, but before he could wipe them away, Applejack already was. He leaned into her soft touch, taking whatever comfort he could. He shuddered, having trouble holding back more tears, wanting to cry, but not wanting to do so in front of strangers. 

“So when Trixie came along asking to be your mentor, we all had ourselves another long talk. Twilight said that the obscurity of the road would protect you. I don’t reckon I understand what that means, but Twilight’s real smart like that. She told Trixie no at first, which drove Trixie crazy, but that was all part of the plan. Twilight mighta kinda conned Trixie into being a good guardian for you.” Sniffling, Applejack wiped her own nose with her foreleg. “Sending you away was real hard to do. You’re family, Sumac, and you can’t be blamed for what your mama and your daddy did.” 

“Eenope.” 

“I like Trixie… she’s been good to me. I’ve been reading her journals,” Sumac said. 

“I kinda figured that Trixie would be good to you… Twilight said she just needed to learn to focus on somepony other than herself.” Applejack, still sniffling, continued to stroke Sumac, touching his face, his neck, and his ears. “Twilight is hardly ever wrong about these things. She’s learned an awful lot about princessin’ over the years. Sometimes I think she and Princess Celestia have contests on seeing who can trick the most ponies into doing good things.” 

“Eeyup.” 

“Applejack.” 

Turning his head, Sumac saw Trixie, who had a fearful look upon her face. He hopped up, his legs made of springs, bounced a few times, and then collided with Trixie’s foreleg. He hugged her, clinging to her, never wanting to let go, feeling sad and happy at the same time. 

“Come home with us, Trixie. You can park there. We don’t mind, we have the room, and if you want privacy, you can stay out in the orchard.” Applejack picked up her hat and stuffed it down upon her head. 

“Twilight Sparkle has requested that I park close to the castle. She has a spot marked out for me.” Trixie chewed upon her lip, nervous, having trouble meeting Applejack’s gaze. “We might come out for a visit though, if you will have us.” 

“We sure will,” Applejack replied. 

“I can give the wagon a good fixin’ up.” 

Both Applejack and Trixie looked at Big Mac, who was now eyeing the wagon. Sumac pulled away from Trixie’s leg and also stared up at the big red stallion, looking a little awed. All four of Sumac’s hooves would fit into Big Mac’s hoofprint. 

“It would mean a lot to me,” Trixie said. 

Something hot and wet splashed against Sumac’s ear, causing it to twitch. He looked up and another droplet hit him on the snoot. Trixie was crying, which was almost too much to bear. His barrel hitching, Sumac wasn’t able to hold it in any longer. He grabbed Trixie’s leg, redoubling his grip, and he felt himself being pulled closer. 

Applejack, who also had something in her eye, pushed her hat down over her face to hide them. “Welcome back to Ponyville, little cousin. It’s good to see you again.” 
	
> Chapter 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“Forty seven,” Trixie said after Sumac failed to count past the mid thirties once again. She gave the colt a patient smile. “There are forty seven wagons. There are fifty four little foals here, all competing for a chance to prove themselves.” Trixie drew in a long breath, held it, and it came out almost as a sigh, but not quite. “And we are number twenty seven on the list, which means we’re going to be waiting for a while. But that’s okay, right?”

Sumac, no longer trying to count the wagons, hardly heard a word Trixie had been saying. He was now staring at Princess Twilight Sparkle’s crystal palace, entranced, his little green eyes were open wide. 

“We have to go inside and register,” Trixie said, trying to get Sumac’s attention. “Hey, you… yes, you with the fuzzy ears.” 

Blinking, Sumac looked at Trixie, his fuzzy ears twitching. 

“We have to go inside and you have to sign your name in a book and I have to register you. It’s going to be crowded. Are you going to be okay with that?” Trixie leaned over a little, put on her glasses, and checked out Sumac’s face. Unsatisfied with what she saw, she grabbed him, hooking a foreleg around his neck, pulled him closer, and then tried to scrub his face with a soft, clean cloth she had conjured from the wagon. 

Squirming, Sumac tried to wiggle free, but Trixie was far too experienced at this sort of thing. She wiped around his eyes, his nose, his mouth, ignoring his moans of protest, not wanting to present a student with a dirty, disgusting face. That would not do. Truth be told, Sumac needed a bath. Sighing, Trixie realised that she would have to drag him off to the river and give him a good dunking, but that would have to come later. There would be lots of running, catching, kicking, pleading, begging, crying, whimpering, bargaining, at some point somepony would get soap in their eye, with a good fifty fifty split odds on either Sumac or Trixie, maybe both. 

With luck, some concerned do-gooder might come along, trying to save Sumac from Trixie drowning him in the river, and Trixie would have to explain the rules of engagement during bath time to the well intentioned rescuer. All was fair in love and bathing. Sighing, Trixie resigned herself to her fate, knowing there was no escaping it. 

Sumac let out a frustrated grunt and  then darted away once Trixie let go of him. He was glaring at her, his messy wheat coloured mane spilling down over his face and covering one eye. Trixie, smiling, thought that Sumac was just adorable looking when he was indignant. She saw his lips pucker, and then with a huff, he tried to blow his mane out of his face. 

“Let’s go, kiddo. Let’s get this over with.” 



 

Worried, some strange instinct rose up inside of Trixie, some feeling of strange overprotectiveness, some feeling of near omniscience relating only to Sumac, somehow, Trixie knew what Sumac was feeling and thinking. He was having trouble getting up the steps, he was timid, fearful, and Trixie worried that he might try to make a run for it. 

Trixie’s knees weren’t up for an extended run. If Sumac tried sprinting for safety, she was going to have to cheat and use magic. When Sumac came to a halt on the broad, white stairs, she planted her left front hoof on his bottom and gave him a gentle shove to coax him to keep going. She heard Sumac swallowing as he stared up at the oversized, enormous doors. Twilight’s castle appeared as though giants lived inside. 

Much to Trixie’s surprise, Sumac kept going, his short, stubby legs struggling to climb the stairs, with each stair almost being as tall as Sumac’s legs. The stairs, it seemed, had been crafted with long, gangly alicorn legs in mind, not the common pony, and certainly not little foals with stubby little legs. 

When Sumac stepped on the landing, the doors opened on their own, inviting them inside. The main hallway was packed with ponies, both adults and foals. Trixie heard a whimper from Sumac, and as she stood on the landing, she felt Sumac pressing up against her hocks, and she was aware of the colt brushing up against her tail. 

There were a lot of ponies inside. The castle was packed. Trixie, feeling worried, wondered if she was going to be able to get Sumac inside at all. She was wondering if she would be able to get herself inside. She stuck her own courage to the sticking place, took a deep breath, and just as she was getting ready to make her way indoors, a white unicorn stepped out onto the landing. 

“Greetings, darling… oh dear, Trixie… it really has been quite a while.” 

Ears splaying out sideways, Trixie stood looking at Rarity. They had never really gotten along, but Trixie understood that was mostly her fault, not Rarity’s. Determined to do the right thing for Sumac’s sake, Trixie smiled. 

“Oh my goodness… oh dear, oh dear, we have a shy one, don’t we?” Rarity asked as she took a cautious step towards Sumac, who was still cowering against Trixie’s hind leg. 

“He does okay in crowds,” Trixie said as one of Sumac’s forelegs wrapped around her hind leg. “But really big crowds can be a challenge for anypony. Sumac, say hello. This is Rarity.” 

After waiting for several long seconds, no greeting seemed forthcoming, only silence. Trixie gave Rarity an apologetic smile, her ears drooping down a bit more. She gave her hind leg, the one that Sumac was clinging to, a gentle shake. 

“The poor little darling is overwhelmed. Don’t worry, we prepared for this.” Rarity lifted her head and gave both Trixie and Sumac a warm smile. “You will have to face the crowd, but a short distance down the hallway, there is a door on the left. It is a small, quiet little room. We had another foal that was quite overwhelmed. If you can follow me, I will take you there. Sumac, do you think you can be brave and follow me?” 

Blinking, peering out from behind Trixie, Sumac shook his head, giving Rarity an emphatic ‘no.’ Scooting over, he tried hiding himself in the silky confines of Trixie’s tail, not caring that it was filled with road dust. 

“Sumac, if you close your eyes, I’ll carry you,” Trixie offered. 

“Okay.” Sumac’s voice was little more than a nervous, squeaky whisper. 

“Okay, hang on, close those eyes, and trust in Trixie…” 



 

“Miss Lulamoon, we meet again. How have you been?” Hearing these words, Trixie paused just after shutting the door behind her. She blinked, knowing that familiar voice. She found herself staring at another unicorn, one she had met several times on the road. It was hard not to bump into this particular unicorn when on the road. He and his companion could be found almost anywhere. 

Setting Sumac down upon the floor, Trixie looked around the room and saw another familiar face, another pony that was a common sight on the road. “Tarnished Teapot, Maud Pie, how have you been?” Trixie smiled, glad to see a few ponies that she knew. “This is Sumac, my student.” As Trixie spoke, Sumac darted beneath her and hid, peering out from between her front legs. 

“Hello Sumac, you can call me Tarnish. This is Maud. And over there,” the tall unicorn pointed with his hoof over to the corner where a small earth pony filly was reading a book, “that is my sweet little Pebble Pie.” 

Unable to help herself, Trixie smiled when the filly refused to pull her muzzle out of her book, much to her father’s consternation. She turned and looked at Maud and found that Maud was staring back at her, stony faced. 

“Been adventuring?” Trixie asked, trying to make small talk. 

“Tarnish and I just got back from tracking down Ahuizotl with Daring Do and Rainbow Dash. He stole a priceless mask from the Manehattan Museum of Arcane History. The mask had weather control powers. There was a hurricane and things got real exciting for a time,” Maud replied in a flat, dull monotone. “I got to study some pyramids. The stonework was amazing.” 

Some ponies had all of the luck, Trixie thought to herself. She cleared her throat, wished that she had something amazing to talk about, and then realised that she had very little to say. Feeling nervous, Trixie jerked a bit when she felt Sumac’s ears tickling her barrel. 

“There is paperwork to sign and stuff to do… I suppose I should get to that,” Trixie said, trying to find an excuse to get away. “Sumac, if you wait here, I’ll bring back the log book that you’ll need to sign. Do you think you’ll be okay here?” 

No reply. Ears drooping, Trixie felt bad. She lowered her head and stared down between her front legs, her mane spilling over her face and obscuring her vision. She saw Sumac staring up at her, his face framed between her front knees. 

“We’ll go with you,” Tarnish offered. 

“What about Pebble?” Maud asked. 

“Hmm.” Tarnish rubbed his chin. “Pebble needs to make friends and I think little Sumac could use a buddy. I think they’ll be fine if we leave them in here. They can get to know one another.” 

There was a soft thump as Pebble’s book snapped shut and she turned her stony gaze upon her father, looking very much like her mother. She said nothing, but her eyes narrowed somewhat and her ears perked forwards. 

“Right, now that we have that settled, we should be going. I bet they’re excited to get to know one another,” Tarnish said. 

After glancing at Pebble, Maud turned her head around and focused upon Trixie, her face expressionless, her eyes half closed and sleepy looking. “Come on, Trixie, let’s catch up on old times. It’s good to see you again.” 



 

All alone and trapped in a room with a filly was not Sumac’s idea of a good time. He sat in one corner and Pebble sat in the other corner. Sumac realised that something needed to be said between them, but he had no idea what. Pebble was a dark, chocolate brown with a violet mane and brilliant blue eyes. She was staring at him, her eyes almost unblinking, and giving him the creeps. She was wearing a smock, just like her mother had been wearing. 

“You’re wearing clothes,” Sumac said, trying to start a conversation. 

“I sunburn easily,” Pebble replied. 

The filly spoke in a droning, bored sounding monotonous voice that befuddled Sumac. He didn’t know what to make of her or how she talked. He took a deep breath, almost said something, but then remained silent. He didn’t know how to talk to fillies, and this one was strange. 

“Sumac. Toxicodendron vernix, a plant that contains toxins such as urushiol, which is a major irritant. I’ve always thought the plants were pretty, but I never touch them.” Pebble blinked but remained statuesque. “Daddy says that I need to make friends, but I already have friends. I talk to rocks.” 

“You talk to rocks?” Sumac asked, not quite believing what he was hearing. 

“Allow me to demonstrate,” Pebble replied. 

As Sumac sat there, mystified and confused, the filly pulled a small, lumpy, purple stone from a pocket in her smock. She set it down upon the floor, poked it with her hoof, and then he heard the filly say, “Speak.” 

“I saw your parents dancing!” 

Startled, Sumac’s ears pinned back against his skull and he jerked his head backwards. The rock spoke! He was so focused on the rock that he did not see Pebble roll her eyes, nor did he know that he missed witnessing the rare sight of Pebble showing outward emotion. 

“Your parents started saying a whole bunch of smoochy-woochy words to each other and then they started kissing—” 

“Shut up, rock.” 

“—and I saw your mother and father kissing each other as they danced and they were all romantic and ooshy-gooshy. They said it was time to make another Pie.” The rock began to make all manner of smooching sounds. 

“Ugh, I hate rocks,” Pebble said as she poked the rock once more with her hoof, which caused it to go silent. She picked the rock up, stared at it for a moment, and then dropped it into her pocket. “Rocks never have anything useful to say. I take back what I said, I don’t have any friends.” 

Sumac, who had seen ventriloquism, wasn’t sure what he had just witnessed. An earth pony that did magic… an earth pony that made rocks talk. He wasn’t quite sure he believed it. On the road, he had seen quite a few ponies that Trixie called ‘charlatans’ and ‘hucksters.’ If this was a trick, it was a spectacular one, because the rock had a very distinct voice that was very different from Pebble’s. 

He could think of only one thing to say. “You’re weird.” 

Much to Sumac’s surprise, the filly had a reaction to his words. Her eyes went wide, then narrowed, her ears rose and fell, and he could see her sides expanding from heavy breathing. Sumac felt bad, he hadn’t meant to be mean. 

“Are you flirting with me?” Pebble asked. 

“What? NO! That’s gross! Fillies are icky!” Sumac shuddered, his whole body shaking. “Ew, why would you even think that?” Sumac shook his head, squeezed his eyes shut, and once more, shuddered in revulsion. Fillies were gross, possibly the grossest thing ever. 

“When Daddy says that Mama is weird, they usually start dancing and kissing and getting all moony eyed. It’s nasty.” Pebble cleared her throat, calmed, and sat there, staring at Sumac. “Sometimes, when they kiss, I get jealous and angry and I don’t know why.” 

“Uh…” Sumac, stunned, did not know how to reply. He was trapped in a room with a very, very weird filly. She was smarter than him, that much was obvious, and she was so very weird. “Um…” 

“Do you need a speech therapist?” Pebble asked. 

“No!” Sumac blurted out. 

“Is Trixie your mother?” Pebble’s head tilted off to one side. 

“Well, uh, she’s my, uh, mentor. My guardian. She’s my teacher,” Sumac replied. 

“Does she get romantic with other ponies? Do you get jealous?” Pebble blinked. “My Auntie Marble gets mad if she catches me reading her psychology books. I don’t know why.” 

Stammering, Sumac tried to collect his thoughts, feeling very stupid and confused. “Trixie says that I’m the only stallion she needs in her life. I’m all the trouble she can handle.” 

“Must be nice, having her all to yourself and not having to share her.” Pebble let out a sigh. 

“You’re weird,” Sumac said in a low voice. 

Pebble, inhaling, shook her head, her long, straight mane falling down over her face. “Stop flirting with me. That’s just disgusting. Just stop it.” 

“But you are strange… totally nutters… you’re a freak.” 

“I’m normal,” Pebble insisted. “My mother says that I’m just like her and she’s normal. You… you’re strange… you're named after a plant that makes ponies itch.” 

“I can’t help how I was named.” Sumac shook his head and waved his hoof in a dismissive gesture. “Pebbles are little annoying things that hurt your frogs when you step on them.” 

The filly blinked and her ears splayed out sideways. Still staring, her stare became more of a glare. After a moment, she let out a huff, then picked up her book, opened it, and then hid her face behind it. 

Sumac, not quite sure what had just gone wrong, sat there, feeling bad, feeling angry, feeling confused, trapped in a small room with a filly that did not like him. When Trixie got back, she would see the mess he had made, and she would be disappointed with him. 

Nothing hurt quite like Trixie’s disappointment. Sumac prepared himself for the worst. 
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 5
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“Why are fillies so confusing and... strange?” Sumac looked up at Trixie and was glad that he hadn’t said ‘weird.’ Something almost like a smile appeared on Trixie’s muzzle and Sumac frowned. This was serious. He noticed a mischievous gleam in Trixie’s eyes. 

“You know, Trixie was once a filly…” 

“How long ago was that?” The smile lurking on Trixie’s muzzle vanished and he saw Trixie roll her eyes. He blinked, not certain what he had done wrong, or why Trixie was reacting the way she was. 

“You know, Sumac, you’re still adorable enough to get away with almost anything, but it isn’t going to last forever.” Trixie sighed, reached out, and brushed Sumac’s mane out of his face with her foreleg. “When everything settles down, you’re going to have a chance to do some last minute studying. There are lots of books here to help you. We’re midway up the list, so you have plenty of time to get in some last minute studying.” 

“What if I fail?” Sumac asked. 

“What do you mean?” Trixie lowered her head down until she was almost nose to nose with Sumac. “You look worried, kiddo. What’s wrong?” 

“What if I mess this up? What if I fail? What if I’m not good enough? What happens to us?” Sumac took a deep breath and then looked away. “What if I let you down?” 

Placing her hoof beneath Sumac’s chin, Trixie turned his head so she could look into his bright green eyes. “We have nothing to lose… nothing changes. You and I continue on the road together and maybe we try again next year. But nothing changes between us. I just want you to do your best, that’s all.” 

“Pebble is scary smart. She uses a lot of big words and I think she reads a lot.” Sumac shook his head. “I don’t know if I belong here.” 

“Nonsense,” Trixie replied. She placed her hoof over Sumac’s lips to silence him. “I think you’ll do just fine. Up for a nice supper? There is going to be a big greeting supper later. But right now, you have to do an interview. Ready for an interview?” 

“I dunno.” Sumac shrugged. 

“Well, let’s just assume that you are.” 



 

As Trixie pushed the door open, Sumac peered inside the room. Twilight’s castle was full of rooms. Long hallways, seemingly endless, and who knows how many doors. Millions, perhaps. Sumac reconsidered. Perhaps he was overestimating again. There hadn’t been quite that many wagons. 

Inside was a table, a stained glass lamp made of many colours, a few potted plants, some bookshelves, one smiling unicorn mare, and a few empty chairs that he and Trixie could sit in. Sumac focused on the mare. She was a little older, friendly, light grey, and had a two tone mane of greyish white and purple. Her eyes were a brilliant shade of blue and looked to be very kind. Sumac decided that he liked her. He trotted through the door, smiled, and then climbed up into a chair next to the table. 

“Hello… my name is Twilight Velvet. I am Twilight Sparkle’s mother. You, you must be Sumac. Are you up for a little interview?” The mare leaned forwards over the table and looked at Sumac, an inviting smile on her muzzle. 

Bringing himself up to his full height, Sumac could barely see over the table. He placed his forehooves on the table edge, cleared his throat, and attempted to look as grown up as possible. This was serious business. Princess Twilight Sparkle’s mother was doing the interview. There was a soft squeak of wood as Trixie sat down in the chair beside him. 

“This will not be much of an interview if I can’t get you to talk.” Twilight Velvet beamed at Sumac, lifted a pen, and made ready to write on a sheet of paper. “Let’s start with your name. Can you tell me your name?” 

“Sumac Apple.” There was a bit too much squeak in Sumac’s voice. He suffered an inwards cringe and wished he sounded a bit more grown up. His ears drooped a bit, but he didn’t feel them sag. 

“Try not be nervous, Sumac. There are no wrong answers. This is only an interview,” Twilight Velvet said in a patient, reassuring voice. “So many nervous little foals. Reminds me of when my little Twily tried to get into school.” She wrote something down upon the paper, her pen making scritchy-scratchy sounds. 

Sumac’s ears stood back up when Trixie began to giggle beside him. He turned to look at her and saw that she was covering her mouth with her foreleg. He returned his attention to Twilight Velvet, and saw that she was about to speak. 

“Do you have a favourite colour?” Twilight Velvet asked.

“Um…” Sumac gave this some thought. He liked all kinds of colours. Picking just one was difficult. Colours had meaning, he had read about that in a book. There were happy colours, and sad colours, and colours that showed passion. Sumac fidgeted in his chair. “I like yellow.” 

“Yellow is always such a cheerful colour.” Twilight Velvet’s pen, surrounded by the cerise glow of her magic, moved with a careful slowness as it wrote down each letter. “Are you a cheerful colt, Sumac?” 

“I try to be,” Sumac replied. 

“You try to be?” Twilight Velvet’s eyes narrowed. 

Were there wrong answers? Sumac felt a little panicked. Twilight’s mother was looking at him funny. He felt a tightness around his barrel. He blinked a few times, trying to think about what to say. He let out a nervous cough and licked his now dry lips while wishing for a glass of water. 

“There are a lot of sad things in the world, like the memorial for Percheron and Taureau. Sometimes I like to sit down and think about the lessons that life has to teach me.” Sumac coughed again, feeling a nervous tickle in his throat. “Sometimes I just think about stuff and when I think really hard, it’s hard to be cheerful.” 

“I see.” Twilight Velvet’s pen wrote down every word that Sumac said, leaving nothing out. “We have ourselves a little thinker. Tell me, Sumac, there are moments when you are cheerful, right?” 

Sumac smiled. “Sure. I like being inside of the wagon and hearing the rain on the roof. I’m on the inside and the rain is on the outside and it feels good to be all snuggled up in a blanket.”

“It sure does,” Twilight Velvet said in agreement, her pen still writing. “What about studying? Do you like studying?” 

“Yeah I do,” Sumac’s head bobbed up and down from his enthusiasm, “studying is great. It means we can stop walking and get some rest. Trixie makes sure that I read every day and she gives me quizzes and tests and makes me write essays.” Sumac, an observant little colt, noticed that Twilight Velvet glanced over at Trixie for a moment. He did not turn away to see Trixie’s reaction however. 

“So tell me, Sumac, is there anything that you think that you are good at? Do you feel that you are gifted? It’s not boasting or bragging, we want to see if you have any skills that stand out. I see that you don’t have your cutie mark just yet.” 

Sumac reached up with his right foreleg and rubbed his ear with his hoof. He was not prepared for this question. He didn’t know what he was good at. He could hear Trixie breathing beside him and he had some vague understanding that this was important to her. If he was good at something, it showed that she was a good teacher. The problem, as Sumac saw it, was that he was average. He wasn’t sure what he was good at. He could pack the wagon and have everything stowed away in moments, but that didn’t seem all that special. Travel was all about organisation and making certain that everything was put away in its proper place. Everything that came out of the wagon had to go back into the wagon, and it all had to fit. 

Sumac’s eyes narrowed as he tried to think about what he was good at. He was good at cutting paper snowflakes, at least he thought he was good, but that was nothing special, not something worth an answer. He could make pancakes without burning them, which he supposed was pretty good, but it wasn’t something special. He could tie knots, he could tie dozens of knots, life on the road had taught him the value of a well tied knot, but that was such a common skill and wasn’t anything special. 

“No pressure,” Twilight Velvet said in a reassuring voice. 

Sumac scowled. He hated when adults said ‘no pressure,’ because that always made the pressure worse. There was something he wasn’t good at, working under pressure. When Trixie gave him a lesson, there was seldom a time limit, he was free to work on it as he pleased, taking as much time as he needed. Trixie understood. 

“Um, I’m kinda good at…” Sumac’s words trailed off and he closed his eyes. 

“Good at what, dear?” Twilight Velvet’s brows furrowed. “Don’t be shy.” 

Opening his eyes, Sumac took a deep breath. There was only one thing he could think of, but it wasn’t something he wanted to discuss in front of Princess Twilight Sparkle’s mother. He coughed again, the tickle in his throat now stronger. 

“Oh my, you are a sensitive little soul, aren’t you? It’s okay to toot your own horn every now and then.” Twilight Velvet leaned forwards, still smiling, but looking a little worried. 

What a choice of words. Tooting your own horn. Sumac swallowed, reached down, and rubbed his stomach. “Well, um, I’m good at…” 

“What dear?” Twilight Velvet’s ear twitched. 

“Uh, I’m good at farting.” As soon as he said the word, Sumac was overcome with regret and he wished that he could take it back. He heard a sharp wheeze come from Trixie and Twilight Velvet was giving him a blank stare. 

“Darling, while most little colts believe that to be a skill worthy of mastery, it is something we all do.” Twilight Velvet paused, then the ghost of a smile lurked about her muzzle. “Even princesses.” The corners of Velvet’s mouth twitched and tried to pull upwards. “Tell me, Sumac, why do you believe that is a skill or something you can be good at? I am positive that a serious little thinker such as yourself has a most enlightening answer.” 

“It takes a lot of skill and practice,” Sumac said in a squeaky, bashful, embarrassed voice. His ears felt hot. This was a horrible goof up. He realised that Twilight Velvet’s pen was writing everything down. 

“Is that so?” Twilight Velvet asked. “Well, tell me, why do you believe that?” 

“Well, just try making a mistake..” Sumac’s words came out in a flat, steady deadpan. 

Beside him, Trixie let out a snort, then wheezed, then she snorted again, and then she sounded as though she was choking. Twilight Velvet’s face was contorting, her mouth moving around in weird ways, her lips pressing together. After a moment of making silly, funny looking faces, Twilight Velvet snorted, coughed, and then snorted again. The corner of Twilight Velvet’s eye was twitching. 

“Sumac, if you will excuse me, I do believe that I need some fresh air.” Twilight Velvet coughed again, let out something that sounded a bit like a half swallowed, half choked laugh, and she covered her muzzle with her fetlock, clamping down tight. 

Without warning, Trixie Lulamoon exploded with laughter and fell out of her chair. 



 

Sitting by the wagon, Sumac let out a huff. He didn’t know what was so funny. Trixie was still laughing. After a little break, the interview had continued and both mares had continued to giggle the entire time. Sumac was certain they were laughing at him, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. He had brought it on himself. 

Twilight Velvet had written down that he was a very funny little colt, much to Sumac’s dismay. Sullen, feeling a bit cranky, Sumac let go of another another sigh as Trixie went into the wagon. He could hear Trixie chuckling and muttering something about ‘straight delivery.’ 

Closing his eyes, he turned his face towards the sun, basking in its warmth. He could see bursts of colour playing across his eyelids, the bright sunlight somehow reaching through his skin to dazzle his eyes. He wondered how it worked and why he could see flashes of light and colour through closed eyes when he was facing the sun. He took another deep breath and felt a little better. It was frustrating being small when adults didn’t take you serious. 

He heard Trixie nearby and the rustle of… The Bag. Turning his head, he opened his eyes, and half blinded, tried to focus on the imminent danger. Trixie had The Bag and her scrubbing brush. Still dazzled from the sun, Sumac looked around, trying to see, trying to plan his escape. Whimpering, he bolted. 

And was caught right away in Trixie’s magic. Letting out a cry, Sumac protested his capture, kicking and wiggling. He couldn’t get free no matter how hard he tried. Using magic was dirty. 

“You cheated!” 

“Sorry, Sumac, but I didn’t feel like running all over Ponyville to catch you.” Trixie chuckled a bit and floated Sumac in front of her, bringing him nose to nose with her. Reaching out her hoof, she booped his nose. “You’re going to get a bath—” 

“No!” 

“—and then I’m going to give you a thorough brushing—” 

“Noooooo!” 

“—after that, I think your mane needs a trim—” 

“No! No! No! You always get the scissors too close to my ears and it’s scary!” 

“Sumac, it’s only scary because you won’t hold still. If you’d hold still, it wouldn’t be scary. And it would make everything so much easier. You need to look your best. Now come on… please be a good colt?” 

“No trim!” 

Sighing, Trixie understood that a little hope might make bath time easier, even if it was false hope. “We’ll see. It depends on how well you behave during your bath. Now come on, don’t make me embarrass you in front of everypony. Are you going to walk with me or am I going to have to carry you? If I have to carry you, I’m gonna call you ‘Schnookie-Wookums’ and make kissy faces the whole way.” 

Oh, that’s so unfair, Sumac thought to himself. Scowling, he realised he had no choice. “Fine, I’ll walk.” Sighing, Sumac resigned himself to his terrible fate, knowing there was no way to run from it. He eyed The Bag where the horrible scissors lurked. He hated them, he hated the sound they made, and he had nightmares that the scissors slipped and then off his ear would come. He didn’t know what he had done to upset Princess Luna, but he had no doubt that the bad dreams involving scissors were somehow her fault. 

Perhaps if he behaved, Trixie would skip the trim. 
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 6
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Trixie had tricked him. Sumac, his lower lip protruding, glared at his guardian as she combed her mane and made herself presentable. He smelled all flowery and girly—which was mortifying. He had been scrubbed with the pink soap. Pink. After being scrubbed with the pink soap, he had been slathered down in the wildflower conditioner, which was quite possibly the worst thing ever. Now, he was all fluffy, soft, and snuggly-wuggly, as Trixie had put it. Worst of all, she had trimmed his mane and his tail. 

He sat, balanced on his haunches, with his forelegs crossed over his barrel, trying to give Trixie the sort of stare that would burn a hole through her, but she was ignoring him, humming to herself, and happy. It just wasn’t fair that she was in such a peppy, good mood after humiliating him. 

“Sumac?” 

Lip still protruding, Sumac did not reply. 

“I need for you to be on your best behaviour tonight. It’s important. Can you please be a good colt?” Trixie put down her small mirror, turned, and looked at Sumac. She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. If his lower lip protruded any further, birds would come and roost upon it. “Come on, Sumac, it’s not so bad. Cheer up. I really do need for you to be on your best behaviour though. We need to leave a good impression.” 

Rolling his eyes, Sumac sighed, then nodded, but he said nothing as he continued to glare at his guardian. Ponies had watched him being scrubbed and they had laughed at him. So much for a good impression. The mirror vanished and disappeared into the wagon, then the comb did as well. He saw Trixie approaching him. His glare softened as she drew close, then she filled his vision as she lowered her head down, and with a gentle touch, she kissed the bridge of his nose. 

At that point, it was hard to be angry. Sumac started to feel bad, just a little bit, for how he was acting. Trixie was just trying to look after him, and he was acting rather rotten. He slumped down, feeling ashamed as Trixie pulled away, and thought about the times he had been mean to her. When she wanted to cuddle with him in the bed because it was cold outside and the wagon had no means of heat. When she tried to hug him and he ran away. When she tried to give him a bath and he got soap in her eye. He felt Trixie’s hoof under his chin and his head was tilted up. 

“Don’t look so glum, chum,” Trixie said, “or the Great and Powerful Trixie will have to try and cheer you up.” Trixie blinked, her nose just inches away from Sumac’s. “Sometimes I worry about you, kiddo. Those moods of yours are just like the wind.” 

Hearing Trixie’s voice, sensing her closeness, Sumac gave Trixie a warm, genuine smile. She had brushed his teeth too, with baking soda. He stretched his neck out and bumped his snoot into Trixie’s, a wordless communication that he often relied upon. He had trouble putting into words what Trixie meant to him.

“Ready for dinner?” Trixie asked. 

Sumac nodded and wondered what was on the menu. 



 

Seeing the huge crowd of ponies, Sumac whimpered and hid behind Trixie, wrapping one of his forelegs around one of her hindlegs and pressing his face into her hock. She smelled like flowers in a sneezy way. 

“Sumac, we have a table in the corner, away from the big crowd. It’ll be okay, I promise. Just stay close to me and I’ll lead you along, okay?” Trixie turned her head and looked behind her. She could see Sumac’s cream coloured pelt already needed to be brushed again. She sighed. Little colts had the mysterious ability to look completely disheveled in mere moments after a bath, a combing, and a full body brushing. 

Making her way forward, the sound of the crowded room caused Trixie’s ears to prick upwards. Round tables filled the room; around each table were foals of different ages, their parents or guardians, and the volunteers that made this event possible. The smell of savoury food filled Trixie’s nostrils and the rich smell of butter made her mouth water. Sumac was still clinging to her as she walked and she almost dragged him along behind her. 

She headed for the corner where the table was, glancing around, and taking in the sights. Lots of important ponies, all of which were hoping to have their foals get noticed. All one had to do was wow Twilight Sparkle. Sufficient wowing was enough to have a radical change of lifestyle. She saw Tarnished Teapot waving to her from where he was sitting at the table, with Pebble beside him, and Maud Pie sitting next to Pebble. 

Shaking her hind leg, Trixie had to rid herself of Sumac before she could sit down. After a few shakes, he let go, glanced around the room, then darted into his seat as Trixie herself was sitting down. 

“Hello again,” Trixie said to Maud and Tarnish. “Fancy meeting you here.” 

“You arrived with a fancy leg decoration. So did I.” Maud turned and looked at Pebble. “She has quite a grip though. Tarnish had to peel her off.” 

“Did not,” Pebble protested in a flat monotone that matched her mother’s. 

“Look, Pebs, it’s your new best friend.” Leaning over, Tarnished Teapot nudged the filly beside him, a teasing smile on his face, and then gestured at Sumac. “Hello again, Sumac. Say, did you get a trim?” 

“My name is Pebble Pie and he is not my friend.” The filly, who had no expression upon her face, stared straight ahead, ignoring both her father and Sumac, her eyes focused upon the wall. “I don’t even want to talk to you. You’re trying to ditch me because you don’t want me around anymore so you and mommy can have another foal.” 

Trixie could not help but notice Tarnish’s nervous glance, their eyes meeting, and she could see his worry. Maud was impassive as always, unaffected by what Pebble had said, and was looking off in another direction, appearing to be studying a stone column. 

“Pebble, darling, you’re too much like your mother… you’re smart, too smart, and regular school is just not challenging for you. You already know everything that your school can teach you. Your mother and I are trying to get you into a school where you can learn important stuff.” Tarnish swallowed, licked his lips, and then continued, “We’re not trying to ditch you. You’ll be able to come home during breaks, on holidays, and we’ll come and visit you.”

“Are you going to ditch me?” Sumac asked, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Trixie. 

“What? No… after everything we’ve been through together?” Trixie unfolded the white napkin that had silverware inside, after undoing the lavender ribbon tied around it. She then freed Sumac’s silverware. “Sumac, you… you’re… you are my… Sumac, you are my best little buddy… I’m not leaving you, I promise, and that’s final.” 

Hearing Trixie’s words, Pebble turned and looked at her father, her half opened eyes and bored looking expression made it impossible to tell what she was feeling. She said nothing, but just sat there and stared. 

“Say, where is Twilight?” Sumac asked. 

“I would imagine that Twilight is trying to be fair,” Trixie replied as she laid out the silverware next to Sumac’s plate. “There is only one of her and a whole bunch of foals and ponies who all want Twilight to sit with them. Picking just one table would be unfair to everypony else.” Trixie paused, her brows wrinkling, and she shook her head. “I imagine that it must be horrible to be a princess. Trying to keep things fair. No matter what you do, somepony is going to be unhappy.” 

“Sort of like being a wife and a mother. It’s hard to keep everypony happy,” Maud said. The sleepy, perpetually bored looking mare turned and faced Sumac. “What do you like to study?” 

Sumac, put on the spot, sat there with a blank expression. He thought the interviews would be over by now. “Uh…” He rested both of his front hooves on the edge of the table. “I like learning the local lore when Trixie and I stop somewhere. There are a lot of stories to be told.” 

“Yeah? That’s really interesting.” Maud blinked once and then reached out and touched Sumac with her hoof. “History is important. I study history, but I do it with rocks. There is all kinds of history though. Somepony has to keep track of it.” 

Sitting between her parents, Pebble sighed and folded her forelegs in front of her barrel. She slumped down in her chair, staring over the edge of the table at Sumac, who had her mother’s attention. 

“Pebble?” Sumac, feeling brave, addressed the filly staring at him. 

“What?” Pebble sat unmoving, her eyes almost unblinking. 

“What do you study for fun?” Sumac asked. 

Silent for what felt like a full minute, Pebble then spoke, “I have all kinds of things I study as a hobby. Right now, I like studying bugs. Entomology is fascinating.” 

Not knowing what ‘entomology’ was, Sumac’s brows furrowed, he said nothing, but just nodded. “I like to catch fireflies. It’s fun.” 

“Lampyridae are interesting to study.” Pebble sat up a little, straightening herself out, and peered at Sumac through half opened eyes. “Venenum iocus seems to attract them, so I get to see them a lot.” 

“Pebble, if I might have a word with you… using big words to make other ponies feel small and stupid isn’t doing you any favours. Trust me, I know about these things. Sumac might not have the sort of book learning that you have, but he’s plenty smart. So far, all I’ve figured out about you is that you probably have a knack for rote memorisation.” 

Blinking a few times, Pebble said nothing, but stared at Trixie for a moment before turning away to look down at her own plate. 

“You brought that on yourself, Pebble,” Maud said to her daughter. “You really do need to try and learn how to make friends. I worry about you.” 

“I worry about Sumac.” Trixie leaned over the table. “Sumac spends most of his time around adults. He doesn’t get a chance to get to know many foals his own age on the road. It worries me sometimes. Put him into a crowd of adults and he’s fine, but in a crowd of foals his own age… sheesh.” 

“Trixie…” Sumac whined, closing his eyes. 

“What, kiddo, it’s true.” Trixie reached over and patted Sumac, trying to comfort the sullen looking little colt before he slipped into total grumpiness. 

“Honoured guests,” Twilight Velvet said, her magically amplified voice booming through the packed room, “dinner is served.” 



 

Sumac was starting to wonder if the second slice of chocolate cake had been a good idea. He lay on his back in the grass, near the wagon, staring up at the night sky as the stars twinkled to life, appearing in the black void one by one. 

Maybe it wasn’t the cake, it might have been the macaroni and cheese. Sumac ate a lot of soups and stews, rich foods were a rarity, a treat that he didn’t get often. He rubbed his stomach and regretted eating so much. It was going to be one of those sorts of nights and he hoped that he wouldn’t make any mistakes. 

“Hey, kiddo, enjoy dinner?” Trixie asked. 

“Yeah,” Sumac replied, still staring up at the stars. “Hey, Trixie, thank you.” 

“For what, kiddo?” Trixie sat down in the grass beside Sumac and looked up. 

“Pebble was making me feel stupid.” 

“Oh, that.” Trixie took a deep breath. “Trixie was guilty of the same thing when she attended Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns.” Trixie paused, staring at the same stars as Sumac, trying to think of the right words to say. “Usually, when a pony does that, they feel very scared and insecure about themselves. I know I was. I still am, I suppose. Don’t make the same mistakes that I did, kiddo.” 

“You always call me ‘kiddo.’ Why?” Sumac turned his head and looked up at Trixie. She was looking up at the stars and he couldn’t see her face. 

“Well, it’s cause you’re my kiddo, that’s why.” Trixie fell silent and did not elaborate any further, unaware that Sumac was watching her. 

Looking back up at the stars, Sumac wondered if he could come up with a special name to call Trixie. He sighed, his stomach feeling as though it was full of lead, then yawned, and thought about going to bed. It was going to be a long day tomorrow. 
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 7
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Princess Twilight Sparkle’s castle library was still a big scary place too full of ponies, but the small study was much better for Sumac. He waited, having asked one of the volunteer librarians for the books he needed to study his idea. He had no clue where to even begin looking in this place, and he didn’t want to go into the main section, where it was far too crowded and noisy. 

In the corner, Trixie was reading a big book about practical enchantments and repair spells, what Trixie called ‘breadwinner’ magic. Sumac had tried reading a few books of that nature, but he didn’t understand very much. 

The only sound in the room was the soft tapping of Sumac’s hooves over the floor, the sounds of two ponies breathing, the faint rustle of pages being turned, and the ever present tick-tock of a wooden clock up on top of a shelf against the wall that had a brass plaque that reminded ponies, “There is always time for study.” 

Taking a deep breath, Sumac held it and counted to ten, trying to calm himself. His frogs felt sweaty and strange. He felt itchy with nervousness. The pressure was on and Sumac didn’t like pressure. 

The door opened and Sumac, expecting a librarian, turned. He saw something quite unexpected. The pony coming through the door was tall, majestic looking, and very, very purple. Her tri-coloured mane was pulled back into a loose, messy looking bun that was spilling out escaped strands. Silver framed reading glasses were perched on the end of her nose, and they sat a little crooked. 

And when she came closer, there was also the fact that her muzzle was covered in cookie crumbs. Sumac could see a sliver of a chocolate chip on her chin. He stared upwards in reverent awe, not knowing what to make of Princess Twilight Sparkle as she entered. 

“You… you must be Sumac. My name is Twilight. How are you, Sumac?” 

Looking up, Sumac wasn’t sure how to respond. He gulped and his legs felt sweaty. He took a deep breath and replied, “You have cookie crumbs all over your face.” 

“Sumac!” There was a gasp from Trixie. 

Twilight blinked, licked her lips, and then smiled, a merry twinkle in her eye. “So I do.” She paused, her infectious smile broadening, and looked down at Sumac. “My mother and father came to help me with all of this. My mother baked cookies and insisted that I have some, saying that a mother knows best.” 

Not knowing how to respond, Sumac nodded. 

Still sporting a sheepish expression, Twilight looked up at Trixie for a moment and then returned her attention to Sumac. “You made some very unusual requests, Sumac. Star Swirl’s census information for unicorns is a rather esoteric subject. We don’t have books about that—but before you panic, I can get them for you from Canterlot and the Royal Archives. I’ll admit, I’m already very curious why you would need that information.” 

“I had an idea when I was studying unicorn magic,” Sumac said, revealing nothing. 

“Well, we do have copies of the modern day unicorn census here in the library, and you want a copy of each census set at one hundred year intervals. I bet you have a spectacular hypothesis. Feel like sharing?” 

Looking up, Sumac could see that Twilight had a hopeful expression. She looked curious, and not in the way that most adults looked curious about what a foal had to say. Twilight seemed sincere, honest, as if she really wanted to know. 

Had Sumac the means and the vocabulary, he would have been able to say that most adults patronised foals, feigning interest for the sake of kindness, and Twilight Sparkle’s actual interest was a refreshing change. He felt his confidence soar, and for the first time Sumac started to believe that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t mess this up. 

“It wouldn’t be fair for me to tell you now,” Sumac said as he squirmed from his right hooves to his left hooves, and then back again. “It isn’t my turn and that would be like cutting ahead in line. Trixie tells me that’s wrong and that line cutters need hexing.” 

Lifting her head, Twilight’s eyebrow raised as she looked at Trixie, who had sat down her book and was now looking quite worried. 

“It’s just an expression to drive home the point on how important it is not to cut in line.” Trixie’s hesitant, worried words spilled out of her mouth. “I don’t hex anypony, I swear.” 

Eyebrow lowering, Twilight looked back down at Sumac. “Very well, I shall be patient for the sake of fairness. It will take a few hours before your books get here from the Royal Archives. Might I make a suggestion?” 

“You’re a princess… why are you asking me?” Sumac asked. 

Lifting her head, Twilight made an exaggerated show of looking around the room, peering to and fro, her eyes darting to every possible angle, and then she focused once more upon Sumac. “Princess? Here? I don’t see one. Just one librarian, one curious little colt, and an old friend.” 

Sumac, facing Twilight Sparkle, did not see the expression that came over Trixie’s face. He stared up at Twilight with rapt attention, his mouth somewhat open, his eyes wide, and his mane spilling back from his face and down his neck. 

“The next few days are going to be busy ones and will probably be very stressful. Instead of staying here and being cooped up in this study, why don’t you go out to Sweet Apple Acres and visit with Applejack? She would love to see you… she told me so. Just spend a little time out there, have some fun, blow off a little steam, and maybe go swimming or something. Come back in the afternoon and your books will be waiting for you, I promise.” 

Twisting his head around, Sumac looked at Trixie and gave her a hopeful glance. Much to his relief, he saw her nod. His head whipped back around to look up at Twilight, who still had cookie crumbs on her face. 

“If you will excuse me, I have much to do and I must be going. It was a pleasure to meet you, Sumac.” Twilight Sparkle took a step backwards, waggled her ears, and gave Sumac a grin. “I look forward to our next meeting. Don’t study too hard.” 



 

Walking in silence, Sumac kept pace with Trixie, who was pulling the wagon behind her. There was a bit of an incline on the road, Sumac could feel it, he was pretty good at getting a feel for hills, but he was no earth pony. The sun was warm, a bit warmer than Sumac liked for it to be, and he was feeling a bit hot. He thought about the awful days of summer, when sleeping inside of the wagon felt more like sleeping in an oven. The hot smell of the wood filling his nose and making him want to sneeze as he tried to go to sleep. 

The winter was no better, as the wagon had no real means of heat. There was a tiny coal burning stove inside of the wagon, but it had trouble even boiling a kettle full of water and did nothing to heat the wagon, you could still see your breath when you were inside. Crawling into bed was both wonderful and awful; it was awful because the bed was cold, freezing even, and wonderful, because as soon as the bed got warm, it was nice to be beneath the many quilts. It was even nicer when Trixie pulled him into bed with her, even though he had spent much of the past winter complaining that he was a big colt that could sleep in his own bed. 

As they both came round a gentle bend, Sumac saw a big red barn just up ahead. 



 

“You made it,” Applejack said as Trixie unhitched herself from the wagon. “Big Mac, she brought the wagon so you could give it a once over. Make yourself useful, Mac.” 

“Eeyup.” 

Sumac, entranced, stood staring at the apple trees, of which there were many. His stomach gurgled a bit and he felt his mouth watering. A warm breeze ruffled his mane, pushing it off of his head and making his forelock spill down over his face, falling in between his eyes. A strange feeling welled up inside of Sumac, a peculiar feeling that he did not know how to process. He felt as though he was home. But this could not be possible. He had no memory of ever being here and this was not his home, but Applejack’s. 

A hoof poking him in the ribs startled Sumac from his thoughts and he heard Applejack’s voice in his ear. “Welcome home, little cousin. You just settle in and have yourself a nice time, you hear? If’n you need anything, anything at all, you just give a holler.” 

This was followed up by a wet, affectionate kiss upon his cheek, and Sumac, unable to deal with everything, shut down. He stood there, squirming, his ears twitching, trying to deal with being overwhelmed as shivery-shudders traveled up and down his spine. 

“He’s so sweet that if you left him in the rain, he’d melt,” Applejack said as she eyed Sumac. 

As Sumac stood there feeling bashful and bit self conscious, a young mare came running, her hooves thudding on the ground, her cherry red mane and tail streaming out behind her. She had a bright pink ribbon tied in her mane and a tool belt was around her middle, hammers and wrenches clanking as she sprinted. 

“Applejack, the twins are up to no good again. One of them has stopped up the tub and now water is overflowin’ right out the bathroom and down the stairs.” 

“Dagnabbit Apple Bloom, I told you to keep your eyes on them and not to look away for even one second.” Applejack shook her head, stomped her hoof, let out a snort of annoyance, and then took off running, heading for the house. 

Trixie, who looked at Big Mac for a moment, then down at Sumac, flicked her tail, and looked thoughtful. After a moment, she said, “Hang on, I’ll come and help!” Then, saying nothing else, she too ran off, chasing after Applejack and Apple Bloom. 



 

Feeling more than a little intimidated, Sumac watched as Big Mac examined the wagon. Sumac stood with all four of his hooves pressed together into one spot and even with his hooves held in such a way, just one of Big Mac’s hoofprints was bigger. Big Mac was big. A giant. And Sumac felt very, very small and insignificant compared to the big red stallion, who was going over the wagon with a wary, weathered eye. 

“Eenope.” 

Sitting down, Sumac wondered what was up. He looked at the wagon and he looked at Big Mac, who was frowning. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he guessed that it couldn’t be anything good. 

“Is… is something wrong?” Sumac asked, stammering from nervousness and a bit of fear. 

“Eeyup,” Big Mac replied as he too, sat down in the grass. 

“W-what?” Sumac looked at the wagon and felt his worry grow stronger. 

“I need to build Trixie a new wagon.” Big Mac looked at the wagon and sighed. 

“New wagon?” Sumac blinked, feeling very confused. 

“The only thing holding this wagon together is magical repair spells. It’s about to fall apart. The entire thing needs to be replaced. This ain’t something I can fix,” Big Mac said in a soft, subdued voice. “If the wind was to hit it wrong, it might just fall apart.” 

“So you are going to make a new wagon?” Sumac asked. 

“Eeyup.” 

“Why?” Sumac saw Big Mac’s head turn and he could see Big Mac’s green eyes glittering. Sumac felt his throat grow dry. He felt even more afraid, not of Big Mac, but because he didn’t want to appear to be stupid. He didn’t much care for feeling stupid. 

“I gave my word that I’d give the wagon a good fixing up. I said that I would do it. But I can’t. So to keep my word, I need to make a new wagon. That’s what stallions do, they keep their word. They stay honest.” Big Mac’s eyes narrowed and he stared at the wagon. “I don’t even know how that wagon is holding together.” 

“Why would you help Trixie though? I mean, you don’t really know her.” Sumac shook his head, trying to understand whatever lesson was being taught here. 

“Because, my word means something.” Big Mac turned to look at Sumac. “And because somepony has to help Trixie. She’s alone. It’s just her versus the whole wide world.” 

“She has me,” Sumac said in a squeaky whisper. “I try to help her… I really do… but I’m so small. I can’t do much. I want to do more but I don’t know how to help her and it scares me because Trixie is growing old and I’m so scared sometimes and I—” 

“Sumac…” Big Mac’s words made the colt fall silent. The big red stallion patted the ground beside him with his hoof, gesturing for Sumac to come closer. Patient, Big Mac waited, and was rewarded when Sumac scooted over and sat beside him. 

“Trixie’s not that old. She’s about the same age as Twilight.” Big Mac’s brows furrowed. “Now, I need for ya to listen to me, and I need you to be real grown up and mature, ‘cause what I’m about to say can be taken wrong. Are you listening?” 

Looking up at Big Mac, Sumac sniffled and nodded. The breeze blew again and the tall grass around Sumac tickled him, but he did not laugh. He was on the verge of tears and this felt far too serious. 

“Now then, a lot of ponies talk about equality… a pony is a pony is a pony. And that’s true.” Big Mac paused for a moment, blinked, and took a deep breath before he continued, “But when it comes to certain tasks, not all ponies are equal. No matter how much I might want to, I can’t control the weather. It might not be fair, but that is just how life is. Some ponies are going to be better at this job than others. Same is true for wagon pulling. Earth ponies are stronger and we’re just naturally better at wagon pullin’. Trixie has been pulling that wagon for a long, long time, and she’s a unicorn. It’s worn her out. I’d guess that it’s messed up her knees and her back and she’s in need of a rest… of the permanent variety.” 

Sumac felt his barrel hitching and it was difficult to breathe. He blinked away a few tears. Now was not the time for crying, now was the time to be as grown up as he could, even though he had no idea how to do that. 

“How do I be a stallion?” Sumac blurted out, feeling ashamed that he even needed to ask. There were no stallions in his life, just Trixie. He didn’t have anypony else to ask for advice. He felt his ears burning with shame and he looked away from Big Mac, staring off at some apple trees instead. 

“Ahem.” Big Mac cleared his throat. “A stallion looks after the mares in his life. All of them. He puts their needs ahead of his own. He keeps his word to them. He is patient, he is gentle, and he is kind. He does what needs to be done.” 

Eyes stinging, Sumac blinked, wondering what he could do. He wanted to do something, Trixie had done so much for him. Trembling, Sumac fought back tears, determined not to cry, wanting so very much to be grown up. 

“My sister Applejack, she got married,” Big Mac began in his low, baritone voice. “Now, the pony she married, he started off real nice. But he wasn’t much of a stallion. He felt insecure because Applejack had to go off on adventures. She’s the Element of Honesty and when things happen, Applejack tends to head towards the trouble rather than run away from it. She’s a hero, she is. And her husband, he wanted Applejack to settle down. Be a homebody.” 

Sumac, his ears standing up straight, turned and looked at Big Mac. He saw the stallion shaking his head and his eyes were narrowed. Big Mac’s ears were splayed out and the muscles in Big Mac’s jaw quivered. 

“Applejack, true to herself, did not change. She stayed a hero and left home at the drop of a hat when her friends needed her, or when the world needed her. And one day, after Applejack got called away to deal with some crisis with her friends, her husband, he just walks away, leaving behind the twins. His own foals. He just walks away and we ain’t seen him since.” 

“So… he just quit?” Sumac, astonished, didn’t know what else to say. 

“Eeyup.” Big Mac looked down at Sumac. “A real stallion does what needs to be done, no matter what. It doesn’t matter if it’s raising his family or building a wagon just to keep his word. He does what’s right and applebuck everything else.” 

“That’s awful.” Sumac, who no longer felt like crying, sat there, trying to take in everything. He stared down at the grass, which rustled in the breeze, and he thought about everything that Big Mac had said. “So… how do I do what is right? When I grow up, what do I do to be a stallion? Where do I begin? How do I start?” 

“You start now,” Big Mac replied. “You do everything you can to help Trixie. You do your best not to sass her. You try to make her life easier. And when you grow up, you look after her. She gave up her knees and her back to make sure you’re taken care of. She’s gonna need somepony to look after her.” Big Mac fell silent for a moment and his lips pressed together. He let out a long, wistful sigh. 

“My Granny Smith… she looked after us after our parents died. She was all by herself. And it was the three of us little ones and this apple orchard. Somehow, she took care of us and the whole orchard.” Big Mac took another deep breath. “She was determined to keep us together. And she did. It messed up her hips, but she managed. When I got bigger, when I got older, I did everything I could to help her, and when she got older, I took care of her. It was the right thing to do. That is what a stallion does, Sumac… the right thing. He squares his debts.” 

Lifting his head, Sumac’s ears stood erect and the colt’s confusion began to melt away. He couldn’t do very much now, but he could do more later. He felt his heart thudding inside of his barrel. He could start now. He had one mare in his life, and that was Trixie. She meant the world to him. She was… his friend. 

“I don’t have a lot of time, I have to return to the library and study later this afternoon, but could I help you build a wagon?” Sumac asked. 

“Oh, I dunno,” Big Mac replied. “Wagon building is grown up work. It’s hard, sweaty work for us earth ponies.” 

Ears twitching, Sumac’s brows furrowed. “I don’t have very much magic, but I can help… I’ve used a saw before and a hammer.” 

“Hmm, I dunno.” Big Mac stared at the wagon. 

“I can help,” Sumac insisted, “I just need somepony to show me what to do. I’m a fast learner. Please let me help?” 

“Hmm… a’ight.” Big Mac grinned and looked down at Sumac. “Today, you get to be a stallion. You’re lookin’ after the mare in your life. Good on you, Sumac Apple.” 

Feeling proud, Sumac was eager to get started. 
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 8
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Exhausted but ecstatic, Sumac Apple stared at the pile of books in front of him and thought about the past few hours. He had helped Big Mac make the bed of the new wagon, the foundation on which everything was built. He had met the twins, his cousins, Hidden Rose and Ambrosia Apple. Both were obnoxious and funny. Looking at the books, Sumac realised that he didn’t know where to start. There was a lot to sort through. He eyed the big book at the bottom of the stack and could not help but feel a little intimidated. 

Much to his own dismay, a yawn escaped his mouth. Sumac covered his muzzle with a hoof and realised that he wanted a nap. His hoof smelled like sawdust and apple pie. He sat there, in his chair, looking at a pile of books that was bigger than he was, suddenly feeling very small and insignificant. Trixie was elsewhere in the library, Sumac did not know where, and she had been acting funny ever since she found out that Big Mac was making her a new wagon. Trixie had also developed hay fever during the course of the afternoon, because whenever Sumac looked at her, her eyes were watering and she sniffled a lot. Sumac had asked if she was okay and she had told him that it was just hay fever. 

Hay fever was awful. 

The study was small, cosy, and quiet. It was perfect for a nap. A nap might be just what he needed. Then he could wake up and get started. Another yawn escaped him and as he covered his muzzle once more, the door to the small study opened. 

In the doorway stood Pebble. Sumac was not happy to see her. She came into his study room, dragging behind her a book bag, and Sumac wondered what he might say to make her leave. He had work to do and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with a know-it-all like her. The sound of the bag being drug over the floor caused his ears to perk and he watched as she reached the chair across from him. 

She climbed up into the chair, her face expressionless, and Sumac could see her heavy-lidded eyes were focused on him as she pulled up her bag and set it down upon the wooden table. 

“I’m supposed to apologise to you,” Pebble said in a flat voice that held no warmth or feeling. The filly’s ears pitched forwards. “I’m sorry. I was being awful. I get like that sometimes. It is hard for me to relate to other ponies. Can you forgive me?” 

Leaning forwards, Sumac studied the filly sitting on the other side of the table. He had no clue what she was feeling, what she was thinking, he could not make out a single thing about her. It was like looking at a book with no printed words. She was blank. 

“It is very important that I get your forgiveness somehow. My father is very cross with me and that worries me. I feel like my world is collapsing,” Pebble said in her monotonous, droning, and somewhat nasal voice. 

“You’re still doing it.” Sumac wasn’t in the mood to deal with this. 

“Doing what?” Pebble’s head tilted off to one side. 

“Using big words. Trying to sound smart. Acting like an adult,” Sumac replied. 

“I’m not trying to do that… this is how I am.” Pebble rested her forelegs upon the table, her eyes never leaving Sumac, and the little filly took a deep breath. “I don’t know how to act around other ponies. I really am sorry. I have feelings too and right now, I’m really hurting, even if I don’t seem to show it. But I’m trying to do the right thing.” 

Brows furrowing, Sumac knew he needed to be studying, not chatting. He had a lot of work to do. Perhaps it would be best if he just accepted her apology and then sent her on her way. He reached up, rubbed his chin, and wondered what the right thing to do was. 

“Apology accepted,” Sumac said in a low voice. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have a lot to do.” 

“Can I help you, somehow?” Pebble asked. 

This was something that Sumac did not expect. His eyes widened and he stared at Pebble, wondering what she was up to. Was she looking for another chance to make him feel stupid? A chance to use big words and show that she was smarter than him? Sumac did not know. 

“I can help you, please, let me try to make this up to you, I’m in a lot of trouble right now.” Pebble paused, blinked once, and then looked at the big pile of books in the middle of the table. “I’ll try not to be a pain.” 

“Okay, fine…” Sumac slumped down in his chair, wondering what Big Mac might do in this situation. “I’m tired, I spent the past few hours building a wagon and there is a lot of work to do.” 

“Tired?” Pebble blinked again and looked at her bookbag. “Oh no, we can’t have that. I know just what to do.” 

“You do?” 

“Yep.” 

Moving with surprising speed, Pebble climbed up onto the top of the table, dove into her book bag, pulled out a container covered in a paisley print, and sent it sliding it over the table towards Sumac. She trotted over the tabletop, skirting around the books, sat down, opened the paisley printed container, reached inside, grabbed a lump of something dark and brown, grabbed Sumac by the muzzle, and, before he could protest, crammed the brown lump between his lips. 

“My grandmother’s rock hard fudge,” Pebble warned, shaking her head as Sumac’s eyes flew open. “Don’t chew it.” She put the lid back on the container, scooted over the table, shoved the books around, and began to organise everything for more efficient study. “That fudge is about five thousand calories a cube. Grandmother condenses butter and a whole bunch of other stuff down into something that resembles a neutron star. It is everything a pony needs for a quick pick me up. Wait for it…” 

Sumac gasped as he felt his whole body quiver. The fudge melting in his mouth was sweet, but also bitter, almost like coffee, which Trixie allowed him to drink sometimes. Something about the taste alone invigorated him. His body trembled and he began to feel very, very awake. 

“So, what are we doing and how can I help you?” Pebble asked. 

“I don’t know for sure.” Sumac shuddered as he spoke. The fudge was in his cheek and he could feel it against his teeth. It was melting, and he swallowed the fudgy brown goodness filling his mouth. “I need to compare a series of numbers and show how they vary.” 

“Oh.” Pebble nodded her head. “So we need to plot stuff and make a graph. That’s easy. We can do that. Just need to find the numbers we need to work with. This is census information.” The filly pointed at the pile of books. One of her ears twitched. “This is a lot of census information.” 

“Yes, for unicorns,” Sumac said as he began to feel his brain vibrating behind his eyes. “About a thousand years of information and it is all about unicorns.” 

“What makes unicorns so special?” Pebble asked. 

Raising an eyebrow, Sumac gave it some thought and came to the conclusion that Pebble wasn’t being snobby or antagonistic. She was just asking a question. He took a deep breath and replied, “This is more about the magic that we unicorns use. A while back, I had an idea and I started to study it… or tried to. It’s been hard.” 

“So what’s the big deal with the magic?” Pebble turned her head and looked at Sumac. 

“If you promise not to tell anypony, I’ll show you.” Sumac gave Pebble a hopeful look, his fudge addled brain no longer thought that Pebble, a filly, was quite as icky as she had been. In fact, she was rather nice. 

“Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.” As Pebble spoke, she crossed her heart, made a few gestures, and poked herself in the eye with her hoof. “Nopony breaks a Pinkie Promise. My Aunt Pinkie will get me if I mess up. She knows.” 

“Knows what?” Sumac asked. 

“Everything,” Pebble replied in a cryptic monotone. “If I make my daddy angry, I can usually get him to forgive me. If I make my mother mad, she’ll forgive me, but it might take an entire geological epoch. But if I make my Aunt Pinkie angry… ugh… my life is over.” 

“Oh.” Sumac wondered what could be so bad about Pinkie Pie. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “Well then, we should get started and I’ll try to explain my hypothesis as best as I can. Maybe you can help me put it into better words.” 

“I don’t know if that’s necessary, you do pretty good on your own. You’re smart.” 

“Really?” 

“Really.” 

“Thank you, Pebble.” 

“Don’t mention it, Sumac.” 

“We should get to work…” 



 

“Oh my goodness, I could just die…” Twilight Sparkle pranced around, her hooves almost silent, her words little more than a whisper. She moved to Trixie’s side and bounced in place, her mane bobbing. “Oh my gosh they’re so adorable together. Somepony get a camera. Oh, wait… I can get a camera.” 

“Why does the cuteness have to hurt?” Tarnished Teapot asked as Twilight’s face scrunched in concentration. He turned to look at Twilight, turning away from the adorable sight, and saw that Twilight’s tongue was sticking out of the corner of her mouth. 

“Trixie can feel her heart melting and all of her internal organs shutting down.” 

“It is kinda cute,” Maud said, not sounding impressed at all. 

The four adults peered through the doorway and into the study. The table was covered with papers, books, diagrams, notes, notebooks, a bag, and a paisley printed container. In the corner of the room, there was a comfortable high backed chair with overstuffed arms. In the chair, two foals leaned against one another, sleeping, little fuzzy ears twitching, little noses quivering, their little barrels rising and falling. 

With an almost inaudible pop, a camera poofed into existence, held in Twilight’s magic. She pointed it at the two sleeping foals and began snapping pictures, using her magic to muffle the sound. 

“So does this count?” Tarnish asked, turning his worried paternal eyes upon Twilight. He pointed at the two foals in the chair with his hoof. “I mean, this counts right? She’s made a friend… she’s passed her entrance exam, right?” 

“We’ll see,” Twilight replied as she snapped another photo. 

“But… but… but she’s made a friend.” Agitated, Tarnished Teapot began to bounce in place. “My daughter finally connected to another pony.” 

“We’ll see,” Twilight repeated as she pulled her head away from the viewfinder on the camera. “We still have a few days. She has to make a friend and keep a friend.” 

“Sumac could use a friend… I worry so much about him.” Trixie turned and looked at Twilight. “Sumac is going to learn an awful lesson about friendship though.” 

“Oh?” Twilight’s eyes narrowed and her ears splayed out sideways. 

“Saying goodbye. If and when we have to leave here, Sumac is going to have to say goodbye. He’s so sensitive. This is going to crush him.” Trixie’s head drooped and she closed her eyes. “This is not a lesson I wanted him to learn.” 

“They can write letters… or something… or…” Tarnish’s words trailed off and he blinked a few times, his eyes becoming glassy. 

“Hay fever,” Trixie muttered. “I’ve been having problems with it myself.” 

“Trixie, it occurs to me that you are going to need a place to sleep tonight.” Twilight turned and looked at the blue mare that stood beside Tarnished Teapot, both of them sniffling, no doubt suffering from hay fever together. “Stay with me… we can catch up on old times.” 

Lifting her head, Trixie looked at Twilight. “Do you mean that?” 

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.” Twilight turned away from Trixie and looked at the two foals sleeping in the chair. “You can tell me stories about being on the road with Sumac. I’d love to hear them.” 

“I… I have sedimentary deposits in my eyes.” Tarnish shook his head, his ears flopping, he stepped away from Trixie and stepped closer to Maud. “Twilight needs better housekeepers, this place is dusty.” 

“It sure is.” Twilight smiled at her own response, lifted the camera, and took one more picture of the two foals snoozing in the chair together. “It’s getting late. We should get them to bed and then maybe we should all catch up on old times together.” 

“Old times.” Trixie sniffled as she raised her left foreleg and scratched her right foreleg with the edge of her hoof. “The three of you have a lot to talk about I suppose. Old times.” 

“Hey,” Twilight said, reaching out and prodding Trixie with her hoof. “All four of us have some stories to tell. We went through some stuff together.” 

“By stuff, you mean rescuing me.” Trixie reached up with her left foreleg and wiped her eyes. She stood there, not wanting to cry, her barrel hitching, feeling the need to run away. She wanted to look at Twilight, but found that she couldn’t. “I think I’ll stay at Sweet Apple Acres—” 

“You know, this is just what happened the last time,” Maud said to Trixie. “You went off to sulk. You could have stayed with us. We would have helped you. Whenever somepony tries to be nice to you, or help you, you run away.” 

“Trixie does not need your pity—” 

“Trixie… let us be your friends… what sort of example are you setting for Sumac?” Twilight Sparkle stepped closer to Trixie. “Stay with us tonight and we’ll catch up on old times together. My mother will probably try to feed us a bunch of treats. I’ll be nice.” 

“No, I think I’d rather have the quiet of my wagon—” 

“Stop being a prideful, stubborn jack—” 

“Maud.” Tarnish lowered his head until he was eye to eye with Maud. 

“It galls me that I couldn’t save myself. I hate remembering it. Being around you makes me remember it.” Trixie squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “I’m sorry, it’s hard for me.” 

Twilight took a deep breath, bumped up against Trixie and said, “So let us help you.” 

Gritting her teeth, her jaw muscles clenching, her barrel rising and falling, Trixie did not reply. She stood there, her sides heaving, and after several moments of internal struggle, her whole body sagged. Her ears drooped, her back dipped, and her head hung low. Her tail went limp between her legs. She stood, defeated, unable to fight back. 

Twilight gave Trixie a reassuring nudge with her hoof. “Come on, Trixie… let us be your friends. We only want to help you.” She looked at Tarnish, her eyes glittering with concern. “Get the foals, try not to wake them. We’ll leave everything here in the study. Sumac might have more work to do and disturbing his work would be bad. I’ll lock the door. Come on, everypony, it’s time to call it a night.” 

“Trixie thanks you, Twilight Sparkle…” 
	
	
	
> Chapter 9
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	With a pronounced thump, Sumac’s head hit the table. Slumped over, he could feel the cool wood of the table against his cheek, against his muzzle, and his ear flopped over and rested against a book. His horn hurt from too much writing. He was just about done for and he wasn’t sure if all of the rock hard fudge in the world could save him now. 

None of this would have been possible without Pebble. He heaved a sigh, his face still smooshed against the table, and watched as Pebble just kept going. He didn’t know how she did it. The entirety of the morning, the doldrums of noon, and then the long, slow crawl of the afternoon as real fatigue began to set in. She had somehow kept him going as well, coaxing him along, doing so with kind words, chunks of fudge, and telling him that his idea was brilliant. 

But now, as much as it pained him to admit it, he could go no further. He had nothing left in him. He could not recall doing this much study in his life, ever. One thousand years of census information, with data taken from one hundred year points. Hearing the rustle of paper, Sumac’s ear, the one not resting upon the book, twitched. 

“We’re done,” Pebble said in a low, bored sounding voice, which did nothing to revive Sumac. “I think the evidence here is compelling and what you are presenting should cause some interest, if not cause an alarm.” 

“Do you really think this might cause a panic?” Sumac asked. 

Sitting up on the table, Pebble shrugged, but did not reply. She looked down at the papers, the books, the notes, the pens, and the pencils. Turning her head, she looked over at Sumac, who appeared to have melted into the table. Part of his face was flattened, smooshed, and Pebble found the sight rather amusing. 

“I think I’m going to die now.” Sumac tried to lift his head, failed, and then let out a groan. “What time is it?” 

Pebble’s head swiveled and she looked at the clock. “It is almost four o'clock—” 

Sumac let out another pained groan and closed his eyes. 

“—and we got started at a little past six in the morning. That’s a pretty epic study time.” Pebble paused, cleared her throat, and looked back at Sumac. “I had fun. This has been great. We should do this more often.” 

“Ugh, nooo,” Sumac whined, writhing against the table. “This isn’t fun at all and I don’t want to do this more often. I can’t even feel my butt. What is wrong with you… you had fun?” 

Ears swivelling around, Pebble stared at her companion, trying to understand him. She could not comprehend his boredom, his state of agitation, she had trouble understanding just about everything about him. “This has been great fun. Sure, it’s not field work, but I like this. I haven’t had an exciting day in the books for a long, long time. School’s been putting me to sleep lately.” 

“You’re weird.” Sumac sucked in a deep breath, held it for a moment, then heaved a sigh. “You are the weirdest pony I have ever met. Why are you so strange?” 

Feeling a bit frustrated, her neck feeling both tense and warm from Sumac’s words, Pebble decided to let the comment about being weird slide. The room was now a bit warm for some reason, and she didn’t know why. She squirmed inside of her dress, feeling self aware, but not understanding why. Sumac was smart enough to have conversations with, real conversations, not boring conversations filled with boring foal talk. Sumac had ideas, Sumac could think, and the evidence was scattered all around her. Sumac was capable of rubbing his brain cells together… and Pebble found that she liked that. 

Without warning, the door opened. Pebble turned her head to look at their visitor, but Sumac did not lift his head away from the table. Pebble saw Twilight Velvet standing in the doorway. After a moment, Twilight Velvet entered, stepping into the room, and the door shut behind her. 

“Oh dear, somepony looks tuckered out,” Twilight’s mother said as she drew near the table. “It’s been a rough day for so many.” A concerned frown spread over Twilight Velvet’s lips. “Sumac, you need to pull yourself together, darling.” 

“What?” Sumac lay against the table, unmoving. “Why?” 

Twilight Velvet’s ears splayed out sideways and she tilted her head to try and look Sumac in the eye. It was important to have proper eye contact with foals, or so she believed. She took another step forwards. “Twilight Sparkle will be seeing you—” 

“She’s supposed to see him tomorrow,” Pebble said, cutting Twilight Velvet off. Pebble stood up on the table, rising up on all fours, and she shook her head. “Look at him, he’s a goner.” 

Nodding, Twilight Velvet’s frown tugged down the corners of her mouth a little bit more. 

“We’re supposed to have more time… we’re done, but he hasn’t had the time to finalise his preparation… I’m supposed to help him. He has notes… we’re not ready.” Pebble walked to the table edge and stood almost at eye level with Twilight Velvet. 

“This is all part of the process,” Twilight Velvet said in a patient voice. “Today, many potential students succumbed to the pressure. The single hardest part of this whole thing is making it to the interview.” Twilight Velvet’s brows furrowed. “Sumac, you’ve done so much work. You have put in so much effort already. Can you push yourself a little further? Can you do the interview?” 

“If I don’t, I’m done, aren’t I?” Sumac asked. 

Saying nothing, Twilight Velvet nodded. 

“But that’s not fair,” Pebble protested. She sat down on the edge of the table and glared at Twilight Velvet. Frustrated, she stomped one front hoof against the table edge and the thump caused Sumac’s head to bounce. 

“This is all about finding the best of the best. Twilight Sparkle had to perform a very difficult test to become Princess Celestia’s personal student. Not every foal is cut out for advanced academics. Many will try, a few will make it to the interview, but in the end, not many are chosen.” 

“Sumac?” Pebble turned her head and looked at the colt collapsed against the table. “Sumac, you have to get up… you have to get moving… this is your chance to be somepony… don’t mess this up.” Pebble stood up, walked along the edge of the table, and then sat down beside where Sumac’s head was resting. 

Leaning down, she lifted Sumac’s head away from the table, then began smooshing his cheeks, massaging his face, and trying to revive him. “Don’t be a dummy… you… you pull yourself together, right now, this instant.” 

Sumac, limp in Pebble’s clutches, thought about Trixie. He thought about Big Mac. Much to his surprise, he thought about Pebble and how she was rubbing his face right now. His brain felt slow, sludgy, and more than anything, he wanted to take a nap. 

But the nap would have to come later. It was time to square his debts. He owed Trixie his best effort—and perhaps Pebble as well. She had spent so much time helping him. He glanced at Twilight Velvet, who stood there, waiting, watching, and he didn’t know what to say. 

The pleasant face massage ceased. One of Pebble’s forelegs wrapped around his neck and Sumac suddenly found it quite difficult to breathe. A constant steady pressure was being applied, and it was clear that this was no hug. Pebble meant business. 

“Don’t be a dummy… if I have to, I will carry you to this interview. Now come on.” 

Something about Pebble’s monotone sounded ominous—threatening even. Sumac gulped and found his voice. “I need a little time to get everything together. Can I at least have that?” 

Twilight Velvet looked at the clock and then back at Sumac. “You have ten minutes and that is all. There are still other interviews this day and Twilight wishes to be done by six o’clock. Do whatever must be done and be ready… she will come here, to you.” 

“Okay,” Sumac squeaked as Pebble’s iron grip relaxed from around his neck. 

“Oh, and Sumac…” 

“Yes?” 

“Good luck.” Twilight Velvet turned tail and walked out of the room, her hooves clicking upon the stone floor. 



 

Doom. Utter and absolute doom. Sumac’s throat felt as parched as the Palomino Desert. His tongue felt like a dehydrated apricot. His back muscles spasmed in the most painful way. His butt was still numb, asleep, and his spine ached from sitting all day. 

He almost burst into tears when he heard the door opening once more. He could feel the pressure behind his eyes, the hot sting of tears barely held in check. He heard the rustle of papers as his vision blurred and fuzzed over. 

Ten minutes were gone far too soon. He wasn’t ready. He quailed in panic, letting out a shrill, wordless whimper as Twilight Sparkle entered the room. Behind Twilight, Trixie came in. He wanted to run to her, he wanted her to hold him, he wanted her to make things okay, he wanted her to sing to him the way she did when he was sad or feeling blue. 

But she did not come to him—instead, she walked to the corner, her hooves dragging, and Trixie looked as scared as Sumac felt. He could see it in her eyes. For a moment, eyes locked, they stared at one another, and through his tear filled vision, he saw her, and there was a moment of perfect understanding of one another, an experience that ponies could go through their entire life without having. 

“Hello Sumac… I hope you are prepared.” Twilight’s head tilted somewhat and she looked at Pebble. “Pebble, you are welcome to stay, but you must remain silent. Sumac is allowed to have two ponies here for emotional support. Under normal circumstances, it is a foal’s parents.” 

“Please don’t go,” Sumac blurted out in a panicked bleat. He turned and looked at Pebble with pleading, tear filled eyes. “Don’t leave me.” 

Reaching out a hoof, Pebble placed it over Sumac’s mouth, silencing him. She nodded, looking solemn and wise beyond her years. Her ears perked forwards, leaning over her eyes, and she held her hoof over Sumac’s mouth, applying a gentle pressure. 

After a moment, she pulled her hoof away, lept down off of the table, and went over to where Trixie was standing. She sat down upon the floor, tried smoothing out her dress, and then looked up at Trixie, who didn’t look much better than Sumac. Pebble patted the floor beside her with her hoof, encouraging Trixie to sit down with her. 

“You may begin,” Twilight Sparkle said in a calm voice as she stood near the table. 

Begin? Sumac panicked. Where did he begin? He and Pebble hadn’t finished the verbal presentation yet. He felt his heart thudding in his barrel. He didn’t know where to begin. He didn’t know how to start. Where did he begin? How did he open? What was he supposed to do? He turned and looked at his pile of notes, his research, and his fatigued mind betrayed him. 

He had no clue of what to do next. He turned and gave Twilight a blank stare. 

He was failing. He was stumbling right out of the gate. He glanced at Trixie and Pebble. Pebble was sitting there, looking bored, she had the same sleepy looking disinterested expression as her mother. Trixie had tears rolling down her cheeks and Sumac could see dark stains on the floor in front of her. Seeing the dark spots was a mistake and he felt his barrel hitching. He was going to start bawling like a yearling at any moment now. 

And then, much to his surprise, he heard Big Mac’s voice inside of his head, the deep, vibrating baritone almost startling him. A stallion looks after the mares in his life. All of them. He puts their needs ahead of his own. He keeps his word to them. He is patient, he is gentle, and he is kind. He does what needs to be done. Sumac gulped. 

He does what needs to be done. Shuddering, Sumac pulled himself together. His head swiveled and he looked Twilight in the eye, his green eyes meeting her eyes of evening violet. Sumac coughed and licked his lips. 

“Well, I, uh, I had this idea while I was doing some study about unicorn magic,” Sumac said in a scratchy voice. “It was just one of those ideas that pops into your head. It started off because of a couple of vegetables, actually.” 

Sumac drew in a deep breath and found the courage to continue. “Looking at a pile of potatoes, it looks like plenty of food when you are feeding only a pony or two.” Sumac paused, blinked away his tears, and kept his eyes locked on Twilight, knowing that if he looked at Trixie, he would start crying. “But that pile of potatoes starts looking like less and less if you have more ponies to feed. Pretty soon, you reach a point where there are just not enough potatoes.” 

Gesturing at his books, Sumac continued, “So I had this idea that wouldn’t go away and I started trying to see if there was any truth to it. I didn’t have access to the sorts of books that I have right now, but I did find a little supporting evidence in my studies. It wasn’t very much to go on though.” 

Twilight Sparkle’s eyebrow raised. 

“What if magic wasn’t infinite, but was instead a pile of potatoes to be shared among ponies?” Sumac asked in a somewhat squeaky voice. “There are lots of stories of really powerful unicorns, but they are all from a long time ago. Unicorns used to control the sun, but they lost that power and Princess Celestia had to take over. Over time, our numbers grew and grew… with safety and civilisation, we went from being a tribe of hundreds to a tribe of thousands, then tens of thousands, and now millions. Star Swirl began a census of every unicorn in Equestria, he walked the length and the breadth of the land, and tracked down every unicorn he could find. Almost all of them had exceptional magic. But Star Swirl himself started to notice the decline of unicorn magic when they lost the ability to control the sun.” 

“Intriguing,” Twilight said as she remained focused on Sumac. 

“Star Swirl lived for over a hundred years and in his own lifetime, he saw a population explosion of unicorns. With the long winter ended, with the tribes living and working together, with an abundance of food because of the earth ponies, there were suddenly a whole bunch of unicorns.” Sumac pointed to one of the hard bound tomes on the table. 

“Equestria had significant magical might. We carved out an empire with the strength of our magic. We had all of these unicorns and all of their magic and none dared to oppose us.” 

One of Twilight Sparkle’s ears twitched and her tail swished around her hind legs. 

“If you look at the graphs that Pebble helped me create, you can see how the population of unicorns increased, but you can also see the number of ‘low magic’ unicorns increasing as well. Unicorns went from being quite magical and knowing a lot of spells to not having very much magic at all, and only knowing spells related to their cutie mark, for the most part. Now, there are exceptions, of course, there are still some very powerful unicorns, but they are rare now, uncommon, and there aren’t very many of them.” 

Using his telekinesis, Sumac lifted up one of the graphs he and Pebble created and pointed to the two lines that formed a crude ‘X’ on the paper. “About five hundred years ago, when the unicorn population was in the hundreds of thousands of known unicorns, we can see the line that shows population growth meeting with the line that represents the overall decline in magic.” 

Sumac set the graph down as Twilight Sparkle scowled in concentration. He lifted up a sheet of paper. On this graph, the two lines did not touch. One line ran along the top of the paper, the other line ran along the bottom. 

“On this graph, we see when the unicorn population was estimated to be one million. Census records are less than perfect, there was a massive population boom at the time. Equestria’s cities were growing at a rate thought impossible. Hundreds of thousands of unicorns were interviewed for the census, and the vast majority of them are low magic. The high magic unicorns are few and far between.” 

Much to Sumac’s shock, Twilight Sparkle pulled the paper out of his telekinetic grasp, held it up, and studied it. Her scowl intensified a great deal and wrinkles appeared upon her brow. He could hear a low grumble of concentration in her throat. 

“A while later, the unicorn population was estimated to be over two million. About one and a half million unicorns were interviewed in the census. There were almost no high magic unicorns found.” Sumac cleared his throat, wished that he had a glass of water, and thought about what to say next. 

Before Sumac could say anything, Twilight Sparkle had snatched up the rest of his research off of the table in her magic and was looking at it through narrowed, squinting eyes. Words failed him and he couldn’t think of anything to say. Twilight, a fast reader, was scanning his notes, flipping through his notebooks, and examining the graphs. 

His stomach did flip flops and Sumac felt like throwing up. He knew that he had to keep going. He felt like burping, but he knew that was just a clever ruse by his stomach. If he did that, he’d be sick. He licked his lips, wishing once more for water, and he screwed his courage to its sticking place. 

“The more unicorns that are born, the weaker magic will become for most of us. There is only so much magic to go around. Pebble and I were talking about this and she mentioned her father, Tarnished Teapot, who has specialised magic… there are other unicorns with specialised magic. Now that magic, a finite resource, is getting scarce, I think that we unicorns are trying to adapt and evolve, and I don’t have as much evidence to support this as I’d like, but I—” 

“That’s enough, Sumac.” 

Sumac blinked. “Huh?” 

“Sumac, you do not need to continue. I am impressed. You have succeeded. You have found evidence of a potential crisis most dire. You have found something that should have been noticed already, but hasn’t been for whatever reason. Sumac, might I take all of these so that I might study them?” 

“I passed? I’m in?” Sumac could hardly believe his ears. 

“Yes.” Twilight nodded and looked Sumac in the eye. “With this… you could get into Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns… you could get into Crystal Empire Academy Prep School, Princess Cadance’s school for exceptional foals. Everypony is going to want you, Sumac.” 

Sumac blinked, unsure of what to say, and his ears filled with the sound of sobbing. He turned, looked at Trixie, and could no longer contain his own emotions. The floodgates opened and a wracking sob escaped him. He ran to Trixie, throwing himself at her, flinging his forelegs around her neck, and he felt himself being crushed by her velvet embrace. 

Twilight Sparkle looked over at the pair, then at Pebble, and then, unable to help herself, her eyes found their way back into the research notes of a foal who had made one of the most important magical discoveries of the modern age. 
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 10
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The morning seemed… strained somehow. Sumac could not tell what was wrong, but something was wrong. Trixie had been quiet—distant even—and what should have been a joyful moment of celebration felt more like a funeral. Sumac didn’t like it, not at all. He started to wonder if perhaps he had done something wrong. Perhaps Trixie was counting on a different outcome. Some of the foals who had participated had received sums of money, a handsome payment in bits. Maybe Trixie needed bits. Maybe he had done too well. Maybe, just maybe, he was going to have to pay for his schooling and Trixie had no means to pay for it and she was trying to find some way of letting him down gently. 

“Sumac, kiddo, we have to have a talk,” Trixie said. 

The bedroom fell silent, a painful, wretched silence. The room, small by most ponies’ standards, was palatial for Sumac and Trixie. It was a guest room in Princess Twilight Sparkle’s castle. It was so much larger than the wagon that Sumac had been beside himself. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” Sumac asked. 

Trixie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “You always were a bit too smart for your own good, kiddo.” Trixie opened her eyes and looked at Sumac. “I’ve been up all night trying to figure out how to do this. Sumac, kiddo… there is no nice way to say this, but it is time that we part ways—” 

“What? Why… what did I do wrong?” Sumac felt some invisible force tightening around his barrel, making it difficult to breathe. He looked at Trixie, feeling hurt and betrayed. What had he done? 

“Sumac, you have the chance to do something with your life. You can be somepony. Life on the road ain’t going to do you no good. I’m not going to let you waste your potential.” Trixie cleared her throat and shook her head. “I’ve already spoken to Applejack. While you were building a wagon with Big Mac, I talked with Applejack about her taking you in if you managed to get yourself into school. She agreed.” 

“No…” Sumac shook his head and gave Trixie a pleading look. “No, please… I wanna stay with you—” 

“Kiddo, don’t be an idiot.” Trixie’s eyes narrowed from anger. “Sometimes, you have to do what is best for somepony you care about. Applejack can give you what you need… things I can’t give you. You need to be in school. You’re smart Sumac, real smart.” 

“Don’t leave me… please, don’t leave me… you promised!” Stumbling over his own hooves, Sumac went to Trixie, his eyes wide and pleading. 

Hanging her head, Trixie sighed. “I know I did.” She blinked away a few tears and  then continued, “I’m real sorry about that. Sumac, you mean so much to me… which is why I have to do what is right for you. You are going to have a wonderful life—” 

“I don’t want it!” Sumac shrieked, his voice high pitched, reedy with fear, panic, and anger. “I just want you… if you leave me, I’ll run away and follow you… I’ll—” 

“Sumac, don’t throw your life away like I have,” Trixie said as she sat down upon the floor and pulled Sumac into her embrace. “I’ve made so many mistakes… and now I’m paying for them. I’m finally doing the right thing. I’m thinking about your needs rather than my own. I have to do what is best for you.” 

Confused, angry, hurt, Sumac kicked and struggled against Trixie’s embrace. He didn’t want to be hugged right now. He was furious, betrayed, he wanted to smash things, to break things, he hadn’t had a temper tantrum in a long time, but one was on its way, he could feel it. 

He saw a blue foreleg in his vision—Trixie’s foreleg, and in that moment, he wanted Trixie to hurt just like he was hurting. He opened his mouth wide, baring his teeth, and clamped down on Trixie’s foreleg, just above her fetlock, biting her. 

There was an ear piercing scream from Trixie, who let go of him at once. Sumac stumbled away, tasting blood in his mouth, feeling sick to his stomach, feeling guilty, ashamed, and angry, oh so very angry. 

“I hate you!” Sumac screeched. 

“So that’s how it is then.” Trixie lowered her head as she stood up. “I deserve that, I do. I suppose it’s time to go. Sumac, I’m so sorry… I wish things had turned out differently.” Trixie looked down at the blood trickling down her foreleg, sighed, shook her head, blinked away a few tears, and then looked at Sumac. “You’re going to have a good life, Sumac. The Apples are going to give you a better life than I ever could. As bad as this seems right now, you’ll forget all about this when you’re happy. Goodbye Sumac, and good luck.” 

Gritting her teeth together, Trixie headed for the door, fat tears rolling down her cheeks and splashing on the floor, her ears twitching and jerking with each of Sumac’s sobs. At this moment, she hated herself more than any moment previous in her life—this was even worse than the alicorn amulet. 

As Trixie neared the door, it opened. 



 

“Going somewhere?” Twilight Sparkle pushed her way into the room, her face stern, serious, and a little sad. Twilight Sparkle sidestepped to allow others to enter as well. Behind her was a whole parade of ponies. 

Applejack came through the door, followed by her brother, Big Mac. After Big Mac, Maud entered, and with Maud came Tarnished Teapot, who kicked the door shut behind him. The four ponies stood in front of the door, making it impossible to escape. Trixie began to back away. 

It was Maud that broke away from the group, crossed the room, and went to Sumac, who was still sobbing his eyes out. The earth pony mare sat down, reached out with her foreleg, and with a firm jerk, pulled Sumac to her so she could give him a much needed hug. 

“Trixie Lulamoon, consider this an intervention. You ain’t going nowhere,” Applejack said in a hard voice. “I ain’t about to let you make the single biggest mistake of your life.” 



 

Sumac wasn’t quite sure what was going on. Maud was hugging him, and it felt nice. He sat with her, his head resting against her barrel, hiccuping as he tried to stop sobbing. Twilight Sparkle was tying a bandage around Trixie’s leg. Sumac, consumed by guilt, could hardly stand to even look at Trixie. He felt awful for what he had done during his tantrum. He felt Maud stroke the side of his face and he pushed himself against her, feeling the smooth fabric of her smock against his other cheek. 

“Trixie, we all knew that you’d try to do this,” Tarnished Teapot said as he looked at Trixie, watching as Twilight finished up with the bandage. “Just like last time we tried to help you. You just… ran off.” 

“The wagon ain’t even finished yet.” Applejack pushed her hat back on her head and stared at Trixie with narrowed eyes. “Consarnit, Big Mac put a lot of work in on it so far. And you were just going to leave. We can’t just let you run away from your problems.” 

“Eenope.” Big Mac stood directly in front of the door, a living immoveable wall. 

“Trixie Lulamoon, you have to stay. You have to face your past. You have to stop running away. This is not a problem you can run from. Sumac needs you. A colt needs his mother.” Twilight lifted her head, her eyes narrowed, and she glared down at Trixie, her eyes glittering with emotion. 

Trixie felt her lower lip quivering. Her ears perked when she heard a gasp and a bit of a sob from Sumac. More than anything right now, she wanted to melt into a puddle on the floor and cease to exist. “Twilight, I’m not his mother. I’m just his guardian. I’m trying to do what is best for him. I can’t give him what he needs… or what he deserves. I’m trying to put his needs ahead of my own.” 

“HORSEAPPLES!” Applejack spat. “That’s a load and a half of horseapples!” 

Twilight’s eyebrow arched. “Applejack—”

“No, Twi, I ain’t lettin’ her get away with sayin’ that load o’ malarky!” Applejack stomped her hoof down. “Trixie, that’s a load of horseapples and we both know it… you’re just trying to skedaddle and you’re using that as a noble excuse! Yeah, I get it, you did some bad things. Yeah, you messed with all of Ponyville when you had the alicorn amulet. You made some mistakes. It’s time you faced up to them. It’s time that you started acting like the mother that Sumac deserves, you hoodwinkin’, hornswaggling, slick talking, tinker pony!” 

“Whoa, was that necessary?” Tarnish asked. 

“Yes!” Applejack stomped her hoof again, and then again for good measure. 

“How do I take care of Sumac?” Trixie shook her head. “After what I did, nopony will hire me. I have no future here… I can’t give Sumac the sort of life that you can.” 

“Good news, Trixie… there is an opening for librarian assistant trainee.” Twilight leveled her steely gaze upon Trixie, daring her to be defiant. “And if Sumac wishes to attend school elsewhere, I know ponies. I will get you a job. I’m a princess… when I put my hoof down, things happen.” 

“Sumac, what is it that you want?” Maud asked as she gave the foal she was holding a squeeze. “Do you want Trixie to stay and be your mother? You have a say in this, you know. I know you are angry and upset right now, but what do you want?” 

Sumac, shuddering, wiped his nose with his foreleg, hiccuped, and looked over at Trixie. He was still angry, he was confused. He blinked, his vision blurry with tears. Maud was warm and soothing against him. Trixie was his best friend. His guardian. His protector. But mother… he thought of all of the years of travel together. All of her affection. All of her care. He thought of her journals, the ones he had read. 

“Trixie Lulamoon, we’ve been trying to help you for a long, long time. My family tried to help you when you stayed on the rock farm. Tarnish and I tried to help you when we rescued you from the diamond dogs. Twilight has been trying to help you for a long, long time.” Maud turned her sleepy stare upon Trixie and her ears pitched forwards. “No more running. You have a reason to stay and make things work.” 

“I’m sorry, kiddo.” Trixie felt her lower lip quivering and she fought to keep whatever was left of her composure. “What do I do? How do I make this right?” 

“Don’t go,” Sumac begged. 

“Do you want Trixie to be your mother?” Twilight asked. 

Lifting his head, Sumac looked around the room. His gaze fell upon Big Mac first. He realised that he and Big Mac’s eyes were the same shade of green. The big pony’s eyes were full of pain and Sumac tried to understand why—what was Big Mac thinking? Staring, hoping for some means of assurance, no matter how silent, Sumac came to understand that this decision was up to him. 

He looked at Applejack, who still looked a bit angry. As he gazed at her, her expression softened a bit and she danced from her right hooves to her left hooves, shifting her weight back and forth. He felt a little confused. Applejack was family. She had some affection for him, maybe even loved him, even though he really didn’t know her. But she didn’t want him. Sumac didn’t understand. 

“I made an awful mistake,” Trixie said, squeezing her eyes shut. “I’m so sorry, everypony… I really am.” Trixie’s ears drooped. “Kiddo, can you give me another chance?” 

Sumac squirmed free of Maud’s embrace, almost stumbled, felt himself being pushed back into balance by Maud’s hoof, and then he made his way to Trixie as he felt every eye in the room watching him. 

“Will you be my mother?” Sumac asked. 

“Kiddo, after what I just tried to do, are you sure you want me to be?” Trixie replied. 

“I bit you.” Sumac’s ears drooped in shame. 

“I deserved that.” Trixie looked away from Sumac as tears rolled down the curve of her cheeks, hung from her jaw, and then fell to the floor. “I love you so much… I didn’t mean for this to happen this way, honest… you deserve a better life than some creaky old wagon and some washed up showpony.” Lifting her unbandaged foreleg, Trixie scrubbed at her eyes and sniffled. 

“I don’t care what sort of life I have… I just want you,” Sumac said in a low, choked whisper. “You’re my best friend. If you go, I want to be with you… I don’t care what happens to me, I just want to be with you.” 

“Sumac, you need to care about your future… you don’t want to end up like me.” 

“Trixie… you can have a future here… and you can give Sumac the sort of future he deserves. We’ll help you. We just want to be your friend.” Twilight Sparkle lowered her head down and looked at Sumac. “Sumac, I’ll ask you again, do you want Trixie to be your mother? You’re old enough to answer this. I need to hear it from you.” 

“Do you want me?” Sumac asked, moving closer to Trixie. 

Shuddering, shivering, Trixie stared up at the ceiling. “When I first started to look after you, you annoyed me. You cried a lot. You were needy. You wanted things. You had to be entertained. But mostly, you cried a lot, you were annoying, and there were moments that I was certain that I had made a mistake. But you were worth a few extra bits and so I stuck it out.” 

Sitting there, Sumac remained silent. 

“Over time, something changed. When you cried, instead of being annoyed, instead of being angry, I got worried. It scared me when you cried. I didn’t want to make it stop because it was annoying me, I wanted to make it stop because you were hurting and I couldn’t deal with that.” Trixie lowered her head and looked down at Sumac. “And then there was your talking… you wouldn’t shut up. You talked my ears off, kiddo. That changed too. Your constant talking used to drive me up a wall… but then, then came a time when I went nuts if I didn’t hear your voice, like if you went off and hid on me, and refused to come out or say anything.” 

Trixie looked into Sumac’s eyes. “Kiddo, I just want you to be happy, even if it means sacrificing my own happiness.” 

Kicking out with his hind legs, Sumac launched himself forwards into Trixie and clung  to her, feeling very conflicted, confused, happy, and sad. He felt her embrace him and he was magically transported to his safe, happy place. He felt a little better. He buried his face against her barrel. 

“Can you forgive me?” Trixie asked. 

“Will you be my mother?” Sumac replied. 

“Are we quibbling over price?” 

Sumac had to take a moment to think about it. Trixie had taught him a lot about bargaining and getting the best deal for what few bits they had. There had been many, many lessons on this subject. He heard Trixie sigh. 

“If you can give me a chance, I can be your mother,” Trixie whispered. 

“Just don’t go and I’ll forgive you. You don’t even have to be my mom. Just don’t leave me,” Sumac said in a pleading voice, feeling more than a little embarrassed by the number of ponies in the room witnessing this exchange. 

Knowing there was no running from this, Trixie accepted defeat. “I will stay if you will have me. I’ll take that job. I don’t know how I’ll face the ponies of Ponyville, but I guess I’ll manage somehow. I don’t know where I’ll live and I don’t know how this will work out, but I’ll try.” 

“I think we’re good here.” Applejack heaved a sigh and looked around. “You know, I think these two need some private time alone. We should make ourselves scarce, if’n you catch my drift.” 

“Eeyup.” 

“This would be a happy ending, but I just know that there is going to be paperwork.” Tarnished Teapot winced and shook his head. “Always with the paperwork.” 

“Trixie… as of this moment, you are no longer Sumac Apple’s guardian pro tempore. There is some paperwork to sort out, but we’ll get to that later. Good thing my mother just so happened to be here to help out… she is the current acting head of the Foal Services and she can finalise any and all paperwork right away—” 

“You… you!” Trixie’s eyes narrowed. “You planned this!” 

Twilight smiled. “But this wasn’t my plan.” She looked at Applejack, who looked very, very smug and pleased with herself. 

“I can be clever.” The corners of Applejack’s mouth curled upwards. “We Apples look after our own.” Applejack prodded Twilight. “We should go.” 

“Thank you, Applejack,” Trixie said to the smug looking earth pony mare. 

“Like I said, we Apples look after our own… Sumac Apple’s mother.” Applejack gave Trixie a wink and then headed for the door. “Outtathaway, Big Mac, you big goon. It’s dusty in here and I need to get out before my eyes start a waterin’ something awful.” 

“What happens next?” Sumac asked as Big Mac shuffled out of the way. 

“Paperwork,” Tarnish replied, laughing just a little. 

“But first, I just want to hold you for a while, Sumac.” Trixie squeezed the colt in her forelegs and pressed her snoot down against his ear. Her foreleg throbbed where she had been bit, but there were things deep inside that hurt far worse. She understood that she had almost made a terrible mistake. 

As the ponies left one by one, Trixie closed her eyes and let out a shuddering sigh, feeling thankful for once for having friends, and she made a promise to herself that she would make this work somehow, for both her sake and for Sumac’s. She owed him that.