> The Gift of Gab > by kudzuhaiku > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Chapter 1 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Looking out his window, his head resting on the arm of the sofa. Sumac Apple watched as the falling snow laid a fresh white blanket upon the city of Ponyville. Curled into a warm, scaly lump beside him was Boomer, who let out smoky snorts while she napped the snowy afternoon away. A fire crackled in the fireplace, and warm air blew out from the baseboard vents. The new house was perfect in every way that Sumac could think of, and he was thankful to have a nice place to convalesce. Wrapped in an afghan shawl, Twinkleshine sat on the sofa with him in amicable silence. She was reading, her nose was buried in a spellbook, right to the point where it wasn’t, and she looked up at the clock on the mantle. Blinking in surprise, Twinkleshine’s mouth fell open while her book snapped shut, the two actions standing out in contrast to one another. “Magic lesson! I almost forgot your magic lesson! I’m so sorry, Sumac!” Twinkleshine lept from the sofa and landed upon the floor, her hooves clattering against the bare wood. She danced in place for a moment, trying to relieve her panic, and then she hurried off to the closet by the front door to get Sumac’s protective winter clothing. “I forgot too,” Sumac said to Twinkleshine. “I was watching the snow fall.” Helpless, almost unable to move, Sumac waited for Twinkleshine to return with his coat, scarf, hat, and blanket. He was able to turn his head though, just a little, and as he did so, he thought back on the terrible day that had left him this way. Oh, he would heal, he had been promised that, but for now, he was bad off. He and Vinyl both had to heal. The waiting was the worst part. “Twinkleshine, I gotta go potty.” Sumac, embarrassed, hated this part most of all, and when he looked into Twinkleshine’s eyes, he became all too aware of their mutual embarrassment. Sitting up on the toilet was impossible, and he couldn’t even be left alone in the tub on his own. “How long is this gonna take?” His voice became an awkward squeak and for just a single second, Sumac felt some unwanted self-pity, which he drove away. “Sumac, nopony knows for certain. Remember, just try to be—” “Grateful that I’m not paralysed from the neck down. I know. I hear it every day.” The corners of her mouth sagging, Twinkleshine’s eyes became glassy with tears and she stared at Sumac with her ears drooping. Returning to the sofa, her hooves dragging over the wooden floor and leaving scuffs on the planks, Twinkleshine set down Sumac’s winter clothing. Hooves still scraping, she came over to where Sumac lay, and using her magic, she lifted him, doing so with the utmost care and gentleness. Boomer, half awake, lept up to Twinkleshine’s horn, curled around it, and dozed off once more. “Why?” Sumac asked, the only word he could manage to say at the moment, the word that summed up everything inside of his head. As usual, Twinkleshine had no answers, and while she carried Sumac off to the bathroom, a few tears slid down her cheeks and onto the floor. The floor had seen many tears recently, from quite a few ponies. Tears of joy for having a house again, tears of frustration, tears of anger, tears of pain, and tears that fell right now, tears of sadness. The house, comfortable and modest, offered a short walk to the bathroom. Snow crunched beneath the wooden sled and Sumac watched the ponies of Ponyville as they went about their day. Twinkleshine was getting better at pulling the small wooden sled that Sumac was carted around in, there were a lot less bumps now, so much so that the ride was almost pleasant. Sumac was wedged in with a bunch of pillows, and Boomer functioned as a portable space heater. She was awake now, Boomer, and her head was poked out from beneath the blanket that covered them both. Sometimes, if a snowflake got too close, she’d snap at it, which never failed to make Sumac laugh, or at least smile. Reclining in his sled, he wondered how Olive was doing, how she was dealing with her own long recovery. Queen Chrysalis had hurt many that day, and perhaps Discord most of all. The draconequus had holed himself up in Fluttershy’s cottage, turned himself into a fancy, lacy pillow, and refused to leave Fluttershy’s couch. He hadn’t moved in—how long had it been? Sumac had lost track. Discord hadn’t spoken, either, even when Sumac had begged him to say something. Fluttershy spent a lot of time on her sofa, hugging the pillow, all while whispering kind words to it. Sumac too, had spent some time on Fluttershy’s sofa, sitting with the pillow, and trying to have a conversation. He had felt stupid, but Discord was… his friend? It was hard to tell, and harder to say. Did Discord even have friends, other than Fluttershy? He was so antagonistic, and Sumac had seen him more as a tormentor. But now? The colt wasn’t sure. A lowly bug had upset the Lord of Chaos and had suffered the fate of bugs everywhere. Boomer was coiled around his right foreleg, and he could feel a tickle, which made him happy. Being able to feel anything in his legs made Sumac feel happy, and the sensation came and went. Even with all of the reassurance that his spinal cord was fine, Sumac still had some doubts. The doctor had told him that right now, after healing, his body was ‘resetting the connections’ and it could take awhile before movement and fine motor control were restored. Vinyl suffered the same fate, leaving them both with a lot in common. Tarnish’s house was now a fortress, and it seemed like every day some new defense was added. Twinkleshine didn’t hesitate as she approached, because she was expected. Sumac’s mind drifted back to that day, the day when he had been taken, that awful, dreadful day. Queen Chrysalis had planned and prepared with so much care. A long range teleportation gate had been constructed in the Everfree to aid in her escape. Moondancer had been replaced before Sumac’s arrival in Ponyville. He had eavesdropped on the adults in his life, even using magic when necessary, with the hopes that he might learn more. Princess Celestia had somehow seemed to know that he would be special, that he was interesting, he was a pony of interest—and even though she didn’t know why he would be special, he had been watched. This caught the attention of Queen Chrysalis, who had also watched, waited, and bided her time, because she wanted revenge. Moondancer’s doppelganger sabotaged all of Ponyville’s protections against changelings, while leaving the illusion that those protections still functioned. The changeling posing as Moondancer had also appeared as Twilight Sparkle and others on a number of occasions, though Sumac did not know the specifics. Sumac and the power of his voice had been Queen Chrysalis’ undoing, at least, that is what the adults said behind closed doors. Queen Chrysalis had been undone by the power of the grift, though Sumac was uncertain of the meaning of all the words said. Wardens had become involved in the investigation, and they had reconstructed the crime, whatever that meant. There was a lot that had been said that Sumac simply did not understand. Flam’s informant was actually a changeling posing as a pony, though Flam was not aware that said pony was a bug. The con pony had been conned, it seemed. It seemed the changelings had high hopes of blackmailing Flam and turning him to their cause, whatever that meant. A lot of words had been said between adults, and Sumac had much trouble understanding them all. As the sled slipped over the snow, Sumac hoped that he could see Moondancer again, as soon as possible. They had become friends during their mutual recovery, and he liked her a great deal. He could make her laugh, he could make her feel better, he alone seemed to be the one that could convince her that everything would be okay when the fear and doubt overtook her. For whatever reason, Sumac knew just what to say to talk away her troubles. As Twinkleshine approached, the gate opened, because they were expected. Pebble’s embrace made everything better for some reason, though Sumac could not explain why. She was gentle and strong, which was reassuring. The filly was also warm, and her soft body was pleasant to cling to, so much so that he didn’t care about embarrassment. It was difficult for Twinkleshine to pull his winter clothing off with Pebble huggle-snuggling him, but Twinkleshine didn’t complain. “Sumac,” Pebble said, whispering her words into the colts ear, and causing it to twitch. “I got a telegram from Princess Cadance. Well, Daddy did… I’m getting a sister for Hearth’s Warming.” “What?” Sumac let out a squeak and there was a distinct moment of fear when Twinkleshine pulled his coat free. For a second, it felt as though he was going to fall off of the couch, and falls were terrible when you couldn’t move on your own. He felt Pebble give him a reassuring squeeze, and a few high-pitched wheezes escaped from him. “I don’t know the details, but I have a sister. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m kind of excited.” Pebble didn’t sound excited, but that might have been because she was in full blown deadpan mode at the moment. “Daddy and Mama won’t tell me anything and they talked about it in their room with Auntie Vinyl and Auntie Octavia.” Leaning her head down, Twinkleshine gave Sumac a loud smacker of a smooch on his head. Then, perhaps as an afterthought, she smooched Pebble as well, and the filly looked up at the mare that had kissed her. The two eyeballed one another for a time, sharing some silent female conversation that Sumac was oblivious of, and then both exchanged a nod. Yawning, Boomer looked around the room and seemed torn. The walls here were stone and she could cling to them with her claws, but Sumac needed her. In the end, loyalty won out, and she scurried up onto the couch to be with Sumac and Pebble. She stood up, bracing herself against the back of the couch, and she begged for her kiss from Twinkleshine, which she received in short order. Hearing the sound of hooves, Sumac looked up and saw Octavia, who looked even more subdued than usual. Her movements were slow, graceful, and there was something about her dignified presence that lifted Sumac’s spirits. He loved spending time with Octavia, their quiet conversations, her gentle instruction in the social arts for introverts. “Vinyl will be out soon,” Octavia said when she came to a halt near the couch. “There was a bit of an incident, and I fear that Vinyl behaved in a very foalish manner. She and Tarnish got into a paint fight with one another and made quite a mess.” Unable to stop himself, Sumac laughed, and he heard a dissatisfied huff from Octavia. “Daddy keeps painting zebra fertility magic symbols on Mama’s belly,” Pebble said, offering an explanation. “It’s just practice, she’s already with foal, but he says that he’s trying to feel the spark of magic that comes when you paint the symbol just right.” “Zebras have fat, healthy foals for a reason,” Octavia said, her eyes on Sumac and Pebble, who held one another. She looked up, her gaze meeting Twinkleshine’s, and the two mares exchanged a knowing look. “Come, Twinkleshine, join me for a cuppa.” “That sounds marvellous, it’s been a trying day,” Twinkleshine replied. “Right then, off we pop. I’m sure the little ones would enjoy a moment alone together.” Sumac, laying on his side with his head propped up on some pillows, closed his eyes as Pebble rubbed him down. She was good at this, and it seemed like she was getting better. The rubbing, the stimulation, it restored sensation to Sumac’s limbs, and it felt good too. Pebble was careful, never kneading too hard, but she did treat him like he was a lump of bread dough. “I’m going to rub your stomach—” “Pebble, no, that’s kinda embarrassing!” Sumac’s eyes flew open. “Oh, shut up,” Pebble said, ignoring Sumac’s self-conscious protests as she rolled him onto his back. The filly only looked down at the colt for a moment, her expression blank, and then she stared straight ahead, looking at the paisley print upholstery of the couch. Sumac started to protest, but fell silent and stared up at the ceiling. “Hey, you’re moving your legs,” Pebble said, and she grabbed one hind leg in her fetlock while she kept kneading his stomach with her other hoof. She gave his leg a tug, a good one, and then moved it back and forth in a smooth, gentle motion. The colt’s hip popped a few times, and Sumac whimpered, but Pebble persisted, ignoring him. This was something that happened almost daily and it was now routine. “Somepony is getting a nurses outfit for Hearth’s Warming.” The deadpan voice belonged to Maud, and she stood beside Vinyl in the hallway. “I don’t want a nurses outfit,” Pebble said, looking back over her shoulder. “It’s not for you, it’s for Sumac,” Maud replied as Pebble turned the colour of black coffee. “I’m sure he’d love to see you in it.” “Awful, mother, you’re just awful.” Turning away, Pebble fumed and her ears folded back against her skull while her face continued to grow darker. “I know.” Maud turned to look at Vinyl, and the unicorn smiled back. “Hear that, Vinyl? I’m awful. Isn’t that great? Ah, the sweet, sweet satisfaction of motherhood.” Sumac watched as Vinyl nodded, and he felt a keen sense of excitement. He looked forwards to his magic lessons, and was dying to know what Vinyl had planned for today. The little colt couldn’t do much, but he could do magic, and learning relieved his intense boredom. Sumac was so excited that he no longer cared that Pebble was rubbing his tummy and tugging on his legs. Boomer, who sat up on top of the back of the couch, stuck out her tongue with a quick flick, and then licked her own eyeball, a feat that made everypony who saw it shudder. The little hatchling seemed to delight in her own act of supreme grossness, and she let out a proud, trumpeting cry—right as she went to lick her own eyeball once more. > Chapter 2 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Today, I had something different in mind, Sumac. Today, I want to push the realms of what is possible, and I need your help to do it. We are unicorns, Sumac, and if a day goes by that we don’t push against what is possible, it is a day wasted. Don’t worry, Twilight gave me permission, and these lozenges are new. The aftereffects will be minimal. The colt eyeballed the index card covered with Vinyl’s careful, meticulous writing that he held in his magic and then he glanced at the lozenge on the low table that had been pushed up close to the couch. Without moving his head, he looked at Vinyl, his master, his teacher, his kind instructor. Sumac adored her in an almost worshipful way, and they had grown quite close during their mutual recovery. Such was the way of unicorns—the sacred bond of master and apprentice. Sumac had first experienced it with Trixie, and Trixie had become his mother. Now, he was experiencing it with Vinyl, and she had become his… friend? No, this was more than a friend, this went beyond friendship, this was a bond that Sumac had no means to express, no words to describe, it went beyond everything he knew and understood. “Of course I’ll help,” Sumac said to Vinyl, and wishing that she could reply. Another index card was presented, and Sumac realised that Vinyl had been planning this out for quite some time. She had thought this out, she had prepared, and he knew what she wanted; results. Anything that Vinyl prepared this much for, she was keen on accomplishing it. Sumac was beginning to know his master well. I’m going to talk, Sumac. I’m so close, but I’m not good at illusion magic. Not good enough anyway. I can make sounds happen, I can make all kinds of sounds manifest, and even voices, but I can produce only what I hear, and I don’t have a voice that I can listen to. But I want one, I want one real bad. I’m not skilled enough to make the voice I want from scratch, but with your help, I think I could. It’s like sucking a milkshake through a straw, and getting something stuck in the straw. I’m stuck, but if I could just clear the straw, I think I could make this work. Reading the index card several times, Sumac understood. He too, had endured stuff getting caught in his straw when drinking a milkshake, like a juicy bit of pineapple or a cherry. Once you got past the initial blockage, the milkshake could flow again. Vinyl lacked force, or suction if one followed the metaphor to its logical conclusion. Being a sorcerer, Sumac could give a pony force, he could amplify even the weakest magics, but he wouldn't go as far to say that he could make Vinyl suck. The corners of Sumac’s mouth tugged upwards a bit and the edges of his eyes crinkled while he thought about this. Beside Sumac, on the couch, there was a faint, soft squeak from Boomer, followed by a rising curl of smoke from her backside. Both he and Vinyl giggled, though Vinyl made more of a wheezing sound. The laughter came to an abrupt halt though, as trace amounts of nitrogen dioxide, trithioacetone, hydrogen sulfide, hydrogen telluride, and hydrogen selenide filled the air. Sumac, unable to move and sitting in the direct blast zone, let out a whimper and gave Vinyl a pleading look. Vinyl coughed and appeared a bit faint. “Vinyl, help, that smells a lot like Stinkbug’s stink.” Sumac coughed and watched as Vinyl flailed about in her chair, trying to get up. “DID SOMETHING DIE?” Octavia screeched from the kitchen, no longer sounding like her usual brilliant, cultured self. “TARNISH! WHAT DID YOU DO? ARE YOU EXPERIMENTING ON THE CACTI AGAIN?” “NO!” Tarnish shouted from somewhere else in the house. “Well, yes, I was experimenting on the cacti again, but I didn’t cause this!” “TARNISH! YOU FIEND!” “I didn’t do this!” “No, Twinkleshine, don’t fix it, we all remember what happened the last time you tried!” Octavia hollered from within the kitchen, and her working-class Grittish accent echoed through the house. From the kitchen, Pebble let out a gibbering cry and said, “SMELLS BAD!” Getting up from her chair, Vinyl rose to become the hero that the house so desperately needed. The excitement was over, but things were far from normal. Somehow, Boomer had slept through everything, oblivious to the mayhem and chaos she had caused. The shouting had died down, though Maud and Pebble had not returned from their walk. And so it was that Sumac and Vinyl resumed their task of finding a voice. “Listen to me, I’m all posh and fussy.” Octavia’s voice seemed to come out of Vinyl, though Vinyl had not moved her lips at all. “Yes, Sumac, I am aware that I’ll need to practice lip-syncing.” When Vinyl was done speaking, her horn went dim and the spell ended. Impressed, Sumac managed to make his head nod, just a little, and Vinyl’s horn lit up once more. “My name is Mister Teapot and I speak for the trees,” Vinyl said in Tarnish’s voice, trying to make her lips move along with the sound. Then, in Maud’s signature deadpan she added, “I like rocks. And pumpkins. Feed me pumpkins, do it now.” “That’s neat.” It was neat, and Sumac’s mind blazed with the possibility of using the voices of other ponies. “The Great and Powerful Trixie taught me a lot about illusion,” Vinyl said in Trixie’s voice, a dead perfect impression, though her lips did not move, nor did her mouth open. “The Loud and Scratchy Vinyl is not very good at illusion, but I’ve stuck it out through the difficulty of studying audiomancy.” And Sumac knew why; there wasn’t much else to do when one was recovering. “Now, Sumac,” Vinyl said in Twilight’s voice. “Pop that lozenge and let us see what we can do about giving me a voice, shall we?” There was a sound, like a record scratching, a distorted noise, and the voice that came out of Vinyl now was an exact copy of Princess Celestia’s. “Do good, Sumac, and be righteous, you hep cat.” “What’s a hep cat?” Sumac asked, grinning because of the sound effects that Vinyl had added. In the voice of Princess Luna, Vinyl replied, “Don’t worry about that now, I’ll explain later.” Hopped up on the zap apple lozenge, Sumac could feel his mind humming. It was a small boost—Twilight’s latest attempt at finding balance—and with his amplified intelligence Sumac thought about all sorts of things he would never think about under normal circumstances, like how dangerous this was right now. Sure, Tarnish was keeping his distance and there were thick stone walls between them, but Sumac and Tarnish’s talents were not complimentary, not at all. Overlapping them even just a tiny bit would be inviting disaster, a feedback loop would be created and the ultimate outcome was unknown. Sumac boosted magic, and Tarnish regulated magic. All around him, he could feel the subtle currents of magic, he was becoming more and more aware of them now while in his altered state. Boomer had her own magic, strange as it was, and Sumac was beginning to gain an inkling of understanding on how it functioned and her connection to the Infernium. The Infernium was just one of many planes of magic that Sumac could tap into as a sorcerer, bringing more magic to the immediate area around him. Sure, it didn’t do a lot for him, but such was the plight of the sorcerer. A few feet away, Vinyl was weaving together complex spells, and Sumac could feel new knowledge protruding into his mind. “Sumac, making sound from no source is more difficult than I imagined.” Vinyl’s voice was downright demonic, it sounded like a record played backwards, slowed, and that album being The Greatest Hits of a band called, Nightmares Given Flesh and Brought to Life. Closing his eyes, Sumac began to understand what was going on. It was like using telekinesis, creating a chain of connected molecules that carried a magical charge, only instead of lifting something up, pushing it, or pulling it, you vibrated those charged particles together. Sumac understood with a clarity that startled him. When he went to lift something with telekinesis, all of the molecules in the aether, whatever those molecules might be, they acted like a telegraph line, transmitting his will to the desired target, and with some help from some dense, heavy photons, he could manipulate matter. More than just lifting or pushing, Sumac understood that this was how shaping worked, like shaping wood or stone. Beyond telekinesis, there was telling molecules and atoms what to do, and the colt gained a keen awareness of the state of matter all around him. Everything was shaking, vibrating, and everything was connected to him. Not just him though, but Vinyl too. Magic was just matter manipulation—and with this understanding, Sumac realised that many of the so-called spells unicorns used were really just modified telekinesis that had a fancy name. Pyromancy was just creating friction with telekinesis until things got hot. It was all about the chain—the connection between a unicorn and everything around them. Manipulate the chain and anything was possible, including sound. It was an act similar to pyromancy, or pyrokinesis, but without the ignition. Sumac could feel himself edging on an even greater understanding, but to reach it, he would need a lot more zap apple lozenges, or even better, zap apple tincture. Yes, there was a way to transcend matter, to tear down one’s own matter and reconstitute it with whatever was available. Immortality was attainable by refreshing the failing molecules that happened in the body, renewing the bonds, strengthening the chain. “Sumac.” The voice was feminine, sort of, it was distorted and drawn out. It also seemed muffled, as if the voice was speaking from beneath a blanket, or from under the rug. Hyper-aware of the flux of magic around him, Sumac focused on the chain that connected him and Vinyl. She too, was just a pile of molecules, a collection of atoms, all held together with thaumatons. “Sumac, I’m feeling very strange, Sumac…” With a strange feeling of detachment, Sumac traveled along these bonds, jumping from one thaumaton charged cluster of molecules to another. Hydrogen, oxygen, carbon dioxide, the aether was filled with so many tiny thaumatons, and he crossed the bridge that existed between him and Vinyl. Sumac, what have you done? For the first time, Sumac heard Vinyl’s voice, the voice she wanted to have, the voice she longed for, and he heard it inside of his own head. No, that wasn’t right, he wasn’t inside of his own head right now, no, this body was weird. Sumac became aware of the embarrassing and awkward fact that this body was female, he could feel all of the differences, both physical and mental. The bridge had been crossed and looking out through Vinyl’s eyes, he saw himself sitting on the couch, he had gone limp, his tongue was hanging out, and he watched his barrel rising and falling with each shallow breath. So that’s what he looked like in the eyes of other ponies. He was, indeed, beige, just as Discord had said. Sumac, how are we doing this? The words echoed in the strange space he shared with Vinyl, and with each echo, each reverberation, Sumac became aware of more and more. She was embarrassed, she knew that he had awareness of her femininity, a knowledge from the inside out. Sumac realised that he now knew what it meant, what it felt like to be female, and the memory of his own male body felt alien by comparison. With a gentle nudge of his will, his own thoughts filled Vinyl’s mind, his understandings, his connection to magic, the fact that he was really very sorry for invading her privacy by entering into her mind and experiencing her flesh by wearing it. He showed her how he had followed the connection, the bridge, and he could feel her astonishment. Sumac poured his insight into her mind, holding nothing back, an apologetic attempt for causing her so much feminine embarrassment. “Sumac, I understand.” Confused, the colt couldn’t tell if the voice was inside or outside of Vinyl’s head. Was it a thought? A very real thought that flowed into their shared mind? It was hard to tell, but Sumac was certain he had just heard the sound through Vinyl’s sensitive ears. She had an itchy dock, she was so nervous, and she was excited, and Vinyl’s alien female body was too much to deal with as her excitement grew. “This is the voice I’ve always heard inside of my head when I write stuff,” Vinyl said, speaking with a perfect, flawless voice, a voice that wasn’t a copy, was most certainly her own. “Sumac, this is amazing, wait, why is my voice changing?” The voice grew distorted, weak, and began to stretch, like a vinyl record left in the sun. It didn’t take Sumac long to figure out why, and he felt himself pulled from Vinyl’s mind to move over the bridge while he was still capable of crossing. He felt stretched, like taffy, and reality became little more than a suggestion as everything warped around them. Then, with a blink, he found himself looking at Vinyl, who looked baffled, confused, and out of sorts. Straining, he lifted his head to look at her better, and said, “Don’t worry, Vinyl, we’ll fix it. The zap apple effect is wearing off. It’ll get better with practice, I promise.” Staring at Vinyl, the connection broke, Sumac could feel it, it was like twine being pulled beyond being taut, only to snap, and then he felt dullness settling into his mind. All of his understanding melted away, all of his lofty thoughts, all of his keen, razor sharp intellect all bled from him, and Sumac was left thinking about stinky dragon farts. The colt giggled, because stinky dragon farts were funny. Sighing, Vinyl picked up her slate, and began writing with a stick of bright yellow chalk. I suppose we’ll have to keep trying this until it works. Same time tomorrow? “Chocolate milk?” Sumac blinked a few times, and had just enough presence of mind to know that he was growing stupid, and would be for a while. “Wanna stay.” Vinyl wrote out her reply on her slate. Soon enough, Sumac. You’ll be moving in so that you can spend winter break here. You deserve some chocolate milk. Smiling, Vinyl set down her slate, after Sumac had read it, and she pulled herself up out of her chair. Moving like an old mare, she came to where Sumac was laying on the couch, leaned down her head, and kissed him on the cheek. The colt, feeling warm fuzzies from the kiss, giggled and looked forwards to tomorrow.