A short story about letting go, even when your heart tells you to hang on.
Sometimes, the strongest love is felt from a broken heart. Letting go is hard. Sometimes, there is no better way to say, 'I love you,' than to part and go your separate ways.
The day was a little too hot, the sun was a little too shiny, and the summer was a little too overbearing. An oppressive shimmer hung like a see-through curtain over everything as heat rose from every available surface. Bugs flew at lackadaisical speeds, birds roosted in shady trees to seek relief from the oppressive tyrant overhead, and time had slowed to a crawl because it had melted just like everything else.
Sumac Apple lay cradled in the roots of an old tree eating a bright green apple and his head rested against the gnarled, ancient trunk. The tree sat on the edge of the water and Sumac could dip his hind hooves into the drink, if he felt like it. Less than a yard away, Pebble Pie was once again pulling off her impressive hippopotamus impression, though Sumac would never, ever compliment her for her magnificent mimicry, because he liked living. Pebble’s dark, chocolate brown ears were visible, along with some of her violet mane, her eyes, and her nostrils. Everything else was submerged beneath the vivid blue water that sparkled like a puddle of spilled liquid sky filled with dazzling diamonds. Due to her rather unique and stony nature, Pebble could—and would—stay like this for hours at a time to avoid the tyrannical sun.
Not too far away from the chocolate hippopotamus lurked an even more fearsome beast, the ferocious aquatic manticore. Megara, having a much thicker, shaggier pelt, suffered in the heat like few other creatures, and so she stayed submerged, with only her snorkel to give her away. Alas, poor Megara, torn between two cruel fates; die of boredom, or die from heat. Probably any minute now, a stream of bubbles would rise up from the depths, and that would signal the end of Megara the Lioness, mauled by monotony.
Hanging by her tail above Sumac, Boomer Apple hung upside down and read a somewhat tattered and dog-eared comic book. One of nature’s most perfect jerks, the little tree dragoness was completely comfortable in the heat, and suffered only from boredom, because nopony wanted to play tag, or dodge-rock, the favourite game of the Pies, or hide-and-go-seek. With the turn of each page, she sighed, and one of her chameleon-esque eyes remained locked upon the pony down below.
Napping in a patch of shaded grass, Silver Lining the griffoness lay sprawled on her back, caring nothing for modesty, with her body kinked at odd angles in the way that only felinoid creatures could. Her wings were fully extended and her tail somehow remained active, swatting away any bugs that flew too close. On occasion, Sumac would turn his head to look at everything that Silver Lining had on display, and when he did, the dragon above him would get a smokey smirk upon her face.
Missing from this idyllic, sweaty summer scene was one pony: Olive. Sumac worried a bit, but not too much, because Olive was a big girl and she could take care of herself. With school out for the summer, Olive had been travelling back and forth to Canterlot almost on a weekly basis, and she had immersed herself in study. Sumac knew why, too, because Olive wanted to join the guard. Now fourteen, Olive had a hankering to prove herself and accomplish whatever she could. As of late, she had become downright martial, and had consigned herself to a regimented life. No doubt, she was either training or studying, and had forgot about the plans to spend as much of the day as possible at their private, out of the way waterhole.
Silver Lining mewed; which Sumac thought was a strange sound for her to make, and then began to scratch her belly with her talons while kicking one hind leg. Distracted by her movement, Sumac stopped eating his apple as he watched the big pear-shaped griffoness’ enticing jiggles. For a moment, the colt thought about going over there to give her a belly rub, but it was far too hot for such a thing. Snuggling fuzzy bodies together when it was cold was sublime, but it was dreadful torture in the summer, which was ironic in its own special way, because the summer brought the heat. It was the worst time to even think about such a thing and Sumac wished he was in the Crystal Empire, where it was about forty or so degrees cooler.
More thirsty than hungry, Sumac resumed eating his apple, slurping up as much juice as possible before taking a bite, and his eyes never left Silver Lining, who remained spread-eagle in the grass. Above him, Boomer’s chameleon-esque eyes swapped places, with each now looking at what the other had been watching. She shook her head, disgusted by the mammals around her, and continued reading her comic book which was titled, ‘Conquest of the Planet of the Naked Hairless Simians.’
This place, this waterhole, this was their sanctuary, their secret spot, and not much disturbed them here. Poison joke formed a natural obstacle along one side, a ravine wall wrapped around the area in an almost ‘C’ shaped barrier, and along the top of the ravine were downright hostile flora. Stranglesnatch, needler cacti, and pinchy plants made the area almost impassable. To reach this place, one needed to imbibe the tea of poison joke; a drink common for this herd of youngsters. Of course, sometimes others joined them, but few came unannounced.
“You wanna play with Silver Lining’s egg hole, don’t you, Sumac?” Boomer asked of her equine sibling.
Sumac had the following monosybillic unabashed grunt of response: “Yeah.”
“That’s gross.” Boomer spoke with a matter-of-fact tone and both of her independently focusing eyes focused on Sumac down below in disgust. “That is where eggs come out of.”
“Somepony has to fertilise those eggs—”
“NASTY! Mammals!” Boomer shivered with revulsion and refocused both of her eyes at two different elsewheres. “At least Silver Lining is an egg-layer, as is proper. Live birth is too gross to think about. Yuck. What a mess. Messy mammals.”
“You never know, Boomer. You could fall in love with a pony. Just saying.”
In response, Boomer swung her comic book aside, inhaled, then belched smoke in her brother’s direction, no doubt hoping to annoy him, or make his eyes water, because mammals were troubled by smoke, bad smells, and had so many other mammalian weaknesses. Hissing like a teakettle, she transferred her comic book from her front claws to her hind claws and waved her tiny fists in her brother’s direction to show him who was boss.
When Sumac ignored her, Boomer pitched a fit and inflated like a cheesed-off chuckwalla.
“Why would I love a pony?” Boomer demanded and she turned both of her omnidirectional eyes on Sumac once more.
“Love is a curious thing,” Sumac replied while tilting his head back to look up at the fuming dragon above him. “It just happens, if you let it, and besides, you already love a bunch of ponies. You love me, don’t you?”
Boomer, about to reply, held out her right claws and extended one clawed finger, but whatever it was that she was about to say failed to come out. What came out, however, was her tongue, and she licked her left eye in a thoughtful way while retracting her extended claw. Then, she licked her right eye, and with a slurp, her tongue vanished.
With a pootulent squeal, Boomer deflated.
“Mama, Mama, won’t you please stop naggin’... just ‘cause I love myself a little scaly dragon. I spread my wings and away I soared, she stole my heart for her hoard—”
“Stop!” Boomer whined while shaking her tiny balled-up fists at her brother. “Stop! Stop! That song is soooo embarrassing! I hate that song!”
“Oh come on, Boomer, that song is one of the few songs with the word ‘fjord’ in it.”
“Suuuumaaaac, stop or I’ll tell Mom!” Still holding her comic book in her hind claws, she crossed her front legs over her chest and then hung there, huffing smoke and pouting.
In the mood to sing, Sumac changed his tune and raised his voice in song, a song that Vinyl had collected from some distant, far off place. “You've got to give a little, take a little, and let your poor heart break a little… that's the story of, that's the glory of love!”
There was a splash from the water nearby when Pebble’s head broke the surface.
“You've got to laugh a little, cry a little, and let the clouds roll by a little! That's the story of, that's the glory of love!”
Unable to resist herself, Boomer joined in and her somewhat squeaky voice somehow harmonised well with Sumac’s cracking, fractured adolescent voice. Together, they sang, “Now, as long as there's the two of us, we've got this world and all its charms! And when the world is through with us… we've got each other's arms!”
From the water, Pebble joined in, having heard this song a million times or more, because of all of the times Vinyl had played it for Octavia. In a three part harmony, they continued, “You've got to win a little, lose a little, yes, and always have the blues a little! That's the story of, that's the glory of love! That's the story of, that's the glory of love!”
“What a magnificent concert,” a new voice said.
So startled was Sumac that he almost fell into the water, not that he would have minded. Whipping his head about, he turned to look at Olive, who was sweaty and panting. She was smiling, because Olive smiled a lot, but something about her eyes seemed sad. Trying to appear cool, Sumac stayed right where he was and didn’t leap up to greet her.
“Okay, spill your guts, Olive,” Pebble said from the water where she remained mostly submerged. “What’s wrong?”
“Who said anything’s wrong?” Olive shuffled on her hooves a bit, kicked the dirt, and flashed her teeth in a brilliant dung-eating-grin. “Sorry I’m late. It’s a hot one today, ain’t it?”
“Have a seat,” Sumac offered while gesturing at the grass. “Take a load off. Sit anywhere. My face is available for your comfort and convenience.”
At this, both Pebble and Olive began to giggle, while Boomer hissed in disgust. Down below the hissing dragon, Sumac waggled his eyebrows and then tried to eat his apple in the most seductive way possible, which of course made him look like a huge apple-eating mega-dork. With a splash, Megara came to the surface, gasping, and then while she spluttered, she waved at Olive.
With a wide yawn of her beak, Silver Lining awoke.
While the griffoness struggled to sit up, Olive sat down in the grass, sighed, and her gaze remained on Sumac, who was finishing up the last bites of his apple. Megara moved out of the deep and into the shallow, coming to float beside her sister, Pebble. Silver Lining yawned again, and Olive’s smile melted like an ice cream cone left in the direct sun. The drab green filly was brave though, and struggled to hold herself together.
There was a plop when Sumac threw his core into the water and then he asked, “No foolin’ around, Olive, what’s going on?”
Somehow, Olive resisted for several long seconds, and then she spilled her guts. Turning away, her eyes focused elsewhere while her ears went limp against her temples. “My helmet arrived this morning, brought by official courier.”
Sumac’s voice shattered like a dropped teacup and in a cracked whine, he managed to say one word: “No…”
With a great deal of splashing, Pebble dragged herself ashore and water poured from her naked body in diamond-sparking streams. She wore no sundress, no swimsuit, and under any other circumstance, Sumac’s eyes would have been all over her, drinking in every available inch, but his eyes remained on Olive, heartbroken.
“It’s funny, Sumac… because of that one little infraction on my academic record involving me just about tearing your legs off, I was almost rejected. But Twilight’s letter of recommendation and my commendable actions during the Battle of Ponyville cleared me. The Immortal Solars have accepted me as a recruit, with the hopes that one day I will stand with them as their Sister.” For some reason, Olive didn’t look happy, not at all, and Silver Lining lumbered over to be with her.
The much larger griffoness sat down, reached out, and crushed Olive to her girth in silence.
In denial, Sumac shook his head from side to side. “No…”
At the water’s edge, Pebble shook herself off, shedding water, and sending droplets flying in every direction. It was a sight that under any normal circumstances would have caused Sumac to suffer an embarrassing reaction, but suffering from shock, he failed to notice. Up in the tree, Boomer howled in protest when her comic got wet, and then glowered down at Pebble, not understanding the heartbreak that unfolded beneath her.
“Damn, Pebble, if you haven’t grown into a hot piece of tail.” Olive found her smile once more, though it only lasted for a second, and then she was almost beheaded when Silver Lining wrapped one foreleg around her neck to comfort her. “Silver!” With a strangled gasp, the drab green unicorn filly pleaded with the over-affectionate griffoness. “I need air! Please!”
Alas, no air seemed forthcoming, and Silver Lining began to stroke Olive’s mane while Pebble sat down on the grass. Reaching out with her hoof, Pebble placed it upon Olive’s ribs, and then with her wet ears sagging, she just sat there with her head hung low. Still in the water, what could be seen of Megara’s face revealed a profound sorrow, at least for those who knew the manticore spawn well enough to read her features.
Sumac too, remained where he was, stunned, still shaking his head from side to side.
Olive kicked and wiggled, and as strong as she was, as physically fit as she was, she could not even begin to budge Silver Lining’s iron embrace. The big griffoness was the gentlest of giants—she didn’t even work out and avoided exercise as a rule—but even in her plump, unfit state, she was able to overpower Olive with ease. The green unicorn filly was a doll to her, and Silver Lining loved all of her little dolls—especially the pony-shaped ones.
“When do you leave?” Pebble asked in the most intimate of whispers.
To which Olive replied in a muffled, almost suffocated whisper that was no less intimate, “On the evening train. Tonight. At dawn, there will be a ceremony, and then I’ll do my induction where I’ll stand guard and watch over something until I collapse from exhaustion. I’m scared, Pebble. I’m so scared.”
“Olive…” Sumac’s words were hesitant and he struggled to speak them. “Olive, why are you doing this? Why the Immortal Solars? Why not just the regular guard so you can be with us? Why can’t something be worked out?”
Silver Lining eased up her iron embrace—just a little—so Olive could respond.
“Sumac, you’ve known this day was coming for years now.” Though it was husky, cracked, and raspy, Olive’s voice was firm. “That’s why we made the most of the time that we had. These have been the best years of my life… all of you… you’ve all made me so happy—”
“Why are you doing this?” Sumac’s voice was a broken, pleading whine. “Can’t things be worked out somehow?”
“Sumac, I’m doing this because I love you—”
“Then stay!” Sumac rolled off of the roots where he lay and almost fell into the water. Nimble, he lept to the shore, landed, and then just stood there, pleading with his eyes. “Go into a different branch of service… please!”
For Olive, the first cracks in the floodgates happened, and her eyes turned glassy. “Sumac, a long time ago, I decided that I loved you. Not just you, I loved what we had. You and Pebble invited me to share a little bit of the wonderful love that you have, and Sumac, Pebble, it became the most meaningful thing in my life. The world needs a love like yours—”
“And the world also needs a protector to guard their love.” Silver Lining’s voice was sad and she slumped over onto Olive, crushing her. “You’ve grown to be a good pony, Olive.”
“Not all of us can stay at home with the ones we love…” Pebble’s voice was gritty with gravel and she nodded her head. “Some of us have to make sure those homes are safe. Olive, you’re one of my best friends, my fellow Basher, a fellow member of the Wipe-Outs, and my Battle Sister in the Wrecking-Crew. I’ll never get to call you my fellow wife, but hey, at least we have these moments to treasure, right?”
Reaching out her foreleg, Olive took Pebble’s fetlock in her own and gave it a squeeze.
“I suppose by tomorrow, you won’t even be my Battle Sister,” Pebble said while she stared at Olive’s hoof, which she had a tight grip on. “All bonds severed, all ties cut asunder, all connections cut in twain… an Immortal Solar is loyal to one and one only, for life, and never shall this sacred trust be broken. You’ll walk through that archway of flame that burns away all other obligations and you’ll begin your journey as a Solar.” Clearing her throat, she added, “I know you won’t fail. You’ll kick ass.”
Growling, Megara dug her claws into the turf and tugged her waterlogged body up onto dry land. She didn’t bother to shake herself off, but rather, she marched over to where Silver Lining, Olive, and Pebble all sat, and joined them. She too, sat down, and pressed herself into the huddle. Meanwhile, Sumac stood alone, his cheeks darkened and damp, and his mouth hanging open in shock.
Up in her tree, Boomer returned to reading her comic book, unconcerned about the drama below.
“I know I’ll be saying my vows to Princess Celestia,” Olive began, “but our time that we had together will always mean something to me. Even though I can’t promise it, I will love all of you for the rest of my life. You’ve given me so many wonderful memories, and I’ve had just about the best foalhood a filly could ask for.” Horn glowing, she yanked Sumac over and his hooves scraped over the grass while he flew through the air to join them in the huddle.
“Sumac’s tenth birthday…” Pebble gave Olive’s hoof a yank and the corner of her mouth curled into a smirk.
“We played spin-the-bottle,” both Pebble and Olive said together, and then, still in unison added, “Sumac called us chicken.”
Pebble blushed, turning a much darker shade of brown. “That was a confusing day for me. I suppose it was easier for you because you were older—”
“Wasn’t easy at all.” Olive shook her head and her cheek rubbed against Silver Lining’s breastbone. “It didn’t matter that I was older, because other than a few sweet pecks with Sumac, I’d never kissed anypony like that. I’m sorry, Pebble, I still don’t know what came over me. I guess I wanted to give Sumac a show for his birthday.”
“Oh, that we did.” Pebble’s voice was both vulnerable and nervous. “You left my dress a wet mess.”
Sumac closed his eyes and leaned up against Silver Lining, who was a solid, reassuring pillar of strength. He remembered that day like it was yesterday, and it was still one of his go-to memories when he needed something to get his fantasy fires burning. Pebble and Olive had done more than kiss: there was hot, sloppy, sweaty making out—and he had watched. It was the best birthday present he could have hoped for, and the memory—stored in his spank bank—was just about the hottest thing he could think of.
“Spin the bottle is frustrating for me,” Silver Lining murmured in the meekest voice of complaint possible so she wouldn’t spoil the mood. “But I like watching.”
“It’s a spectator sport,” Megara agreed, her tail swishing from side to side. Turning to look at Olive, her eyes narrowed and holding out her paw, she rested it atop Olive and Pebble’s fetlocks. “It was super, super weird watching you dry-hump my sister’s leg. I still have very confusing thoughts about that. Thanks for that.”
Olive laughed, but it was not a happy sound. Pebble continued to blush and her face was now the colour of black coffee. Silver Lining’s feathers fluffed out, and squeezing Olive almost to the point of juicing her, she let heave a sigh. Megara leaned in, wrapped one foreleg around Sumac, and tried to reassure him.
“We battled the mud monsters.” Pebble changed the subject. “Olive, you and I, we laid the smackdown on those muddy sons of bitches.”
Whimpering, Silver Lining squirmed. “I was hiding. Violence of any kind makes me anxious and I don’t like it. I’m practically a pony when it comes to violence, and there are times when I think I’m gonna faint.”
“Make me a promise…” Olive’s voice was pleading; it cracked and turned shrill on the last two syllables. “Look after Sumac. Give him all of the love that I can’t. Look, I know it’s a lot to ask, because I don’t know what the future is, but keep him safe and happy. I’m doing my part. Please, please, make everything I’m sacrificing mean something. It hurts so much to go, and I almost can’t bear it.”
Caring nothing for his glasses, Sumac buried his face into Megara’s tawny hide, bit down upon his lip, and battled to keep everything held in. It didn’t help that Megara was trembling, and Sumac knew that he was reaching his breaking point. If his emotions went out of control, the ink would come, and then things would be confusing as well as emotional.
“Sumac is about to be a big brother, and it won’t be long now.” Olive’s voice cracked again and held a sorrowful tremulation. “You’re going to get to see what he’s gonna be like as a Daddy and I’m gonna be in Canterlot busting my ass. Silver, Pebble, please, you gotta send me letters with every detail.”
“I’ll write every chance I get,” Silver Lining promised; again, she squeezed, and almost turned Olive into oil. “I owe you so much, Olive. You helped me overcome my shyness. Olive, you gave me the courage to face the world. I can never thank you enough, but I’ll write.”
Fearful of his own words, but too heartbroken to care, Sumac turned to face Olive and looked her in the eye. “Please stay—”
“Sumac, don’t do this to me.” Tears streamed down Olive’s cheeks and her face contorted in concentration while she tried to resist Sumac’s charms. “Ask anything else you want from me, but don’t ask me to stay.”
Feeling sorry, Sumac didn’t know what else to say, and he felt guilty for what little he had said. A deep and abiding shame overcame him, and the crushing weight upon his heart was almost too much to bear. In his desperation, he had done something foolish, something stupid, but even as the guilt tore him apart, he longed to finish his words, he ached with the need to compel Olive to stay.
“Olive—”
“Sumac, watch what you say.” Olive’s voice had a hardness to it now, an unmistakable flintiness that was terrifying.
“Olive, why?” Consumed by his own shame, Sumac averted his gaze, no longer feeling worthy to look at her.
Reaching up with her foreleg, Olive wiped her eyes, gulped once, then a second time, scrubbed at her eyes with her foreleg, and in a creaky, heartbroken voice she replied, “Sumac, it’s the glory of love, Sumac… you were just singing about it”—here, her voice broke, becoming soft, feminine, vulnerable as she sang—“you've got to give a little, take a little, and let your poor heart break a little… that's the story of, that's the glory of love...” Trailing off with a sob, she could not continue.
Hearing Olive’s frail voice singing the song they had all sang so many times—together, they had worn out Vinyl’s record and earned her stern rebuke—Sumac’s heart shattered. Of all the pain he had experienced in his life, this was the worst. His brain struggled to even comprehend the whole of it; the guilt, the shame, the sudden rending pain, and knowledge of his own selfishness only amplified his torment. How could he? Wracked with remorse, he felt as though he didn't deserve Olive, or any of his friends, not after what he had just done.
“Sumac”—he felt a hoof come to rest upon him and he knew it was Olive— “Sumac, please”—the hoof pressed into his withers and he tried to shrug it away because the pain was too much to bear—“Sumac, I don’t love you any less. I would be disappointed and hurt if you didn’t at least try. It’s nice to know that I mean that much to you. Thank you, Sumac—”
“For what?” Sumac blurted out, and Olive’s hoof was like a red-hot poker burning into his very soul.
“For loving me enough to let me go.”
It was too much. Sumac felt the ink coming, and with it, a terrifying surge of magic. Anything could happen and in mere moments, everything would go spiraling out of control. This was no common surge, no, this promised to be the mother of all surges, and he felt a rising swell of devastation cresting within him. Yanking his head around, his jaw firmed and he looked Olive in the eye. He had to hold on for just a few seconds more, just a few more precious seconds, but with the way his teeth were tingling, these would be the longest seconds of his life. Even though it was risky, he allowed some of his magic to flow into his words.
“Go to Canterlot, Olive,” he commanded, and the power of his voice caused strange, weird wibbles to manifest in the air around him, looking very much like the shimmers of rising heat. “Let your greatness be equal to your love for me. Become an Immortal Solar that rivals the very Sun for splendour!”
As the last word left his mouth, Sumac felt his tongue go numb, and it seemed as though his jaw might split. He worried, fearing that all of his teeth might pop like popcorn. Pressure built like a sneeze, and with all of his concentration, he gazed into Olive’s eyes while she was held spellbound. All around him, the grass began to turn blue and flickers of raw aetherfire crackled, dancing in the air like mischievous imps. Too close to his horn, Sumac’s spectacles disintegrated, turning into glittery dust that floated in the wavy shimmers like snowflakes. Weird flames danced in Olive’s eyes, which now blazed like two tiny suns. Ink began to bleed into his vision.
With a thunderous, deafening crackle that bowled his companions over, Sumac vanished.
The Ponyville train station was a familiar place for Pebble Pie. Many times she had stood on this very platform, waiting, watching for a train. There had been many departures from here, many arrivals, so many sad, soggy goodbyes, and happy, tearful reunions. The cafe—a recent addition a few years back—was one of her favourite places to eat in all of Ponyville. A bookstore, an arcade with carnival games, and a newsroom with publications of every kind could be found here.
Hours had been spent here, perhaps even a significant chunk of her life, and not all of it had been spent waiting. She and all of her friends had spent entire days playing skee-ball, each of them trying to outdo one another, and it was here that Pebble had learned how to be friendly while still being competitive—but oh how hard it was to be nice. The fact that Megara was better than her was infuriating.
Pebble was not alone here, but that was no small comfort. Olive wasn’t the only one leaving, but that was no comfort. With the war going full swing, a fair number of Ponyville’s youth, having reached the age of fourteen, were heading to Canterlot to do their part. Some cried, others paced, some repeated their goodbyes over and over to the ones they loved.
Ponyville had seen an upswing in young marriages, with some getting hitched before leaving home. Getting killed—a distinct possibility—guaranteed a widow’s or widower’s pension, and many felt the need to leave their foalhood sweethearts with something. Pebble found it all quite depressing, but try as she might, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. For who knows how many, this would be the last time they saw this train station.
Olive stood with her parents, Sapphire Gin and Vermouth, and upon her head she wore her helmet. She had the unique distinction to be the first Immortal Solar to come out of Ponyville and Pebble supposed that this was a momentous moment for the town’s history, but she couldn’t muster much pride about it, not now, maybe not ever, and it might even be something she would hold in contempt if the worst happened.
Petulant, sulky, Pebble wanted to say how stupid this all was, how pointless it was, but Olive was sacrificing herself for lovers and families everywhere. Not just for Sumac, but so that every family could sleep safely and soundly in their beds, no doubt after some cheerful, saccharine potluck supper done to support the troops. Cringing, Pebble struggled to hold back her bitterness, her anger, and the feeling that she was losing. More than just about anything, she hated losing, and the sensation made her feel sick to her stomach.
Megara stood, almost alone, ponies gave her a wide berth even though she was well known and friendly. It was rough being a manticore spawn in a town named for ponies, and it seemed as though Megara was always alone in a crowd. Silver Lining stood with her, and the two spoke with one another in low whispers.
Missing was Sumac, and Pebble worried. Of course she worried, and oh how she worried. Sumac had disintegrated his eyeglasses and then had vanished in a surge. Strange lights had been seen over the Everfree and the denizens of the dark wood had been seen fleeing. Whatever had gone down after Sumac had vanished, Pebble knew that it was far too dangerous for her to investigate it, and she hated life at this very moment for such a variety of reasons.
Ponyville was giving up its best and its brightest. The very future of Ponyville was departing by train to be processed in Canterlot and then ran through the meat grinder on the front lines. The Grittish Isles had been recovered, but at what cost? The Dragonlands bore some of the worst of it, but Equestria and the dragons stood united, a magnificent machine of war, thanks to the efforts of one Dim Dark. The line was being held in Zebrabwe, though at a terrible, terrible cost that few could comprehend. Windia was lost, but many were hopeful it could be recovered. Pebble’s father took trips to Windia to disrupt and destroy, because he was a living legend there, feared by many, and believed by the cult of Collie Ma to be the one responsible for causing the end of the world. Her father had that effect on others, and Pebble was rather proud.
Overcome by the sheer bleakness of it all, Pebble sighed.
Even worse, Olive had joined the Immortal Solars at a strange time; the rank and file were being shipped out abroad, leaving the Immortal Solars to guard the homefront and perform the duties that the common guards were traditionally responsible for. Olive would be saddled with immense duty—an almost unfathomable amount—and more would be expected from her as a Solar than just about any generation previous.
It wasn’t fair.
The sky began to shift, going from blue to purple, with vivid streaks of outrageous orange, pale pink, and rosy reds. Pebble turned westwards and cast her eyes skywards. She was the rare earth pony that enjoyed looking up at the sky above, and far too many of her kind never took the time to do this, or so she felt. There was a lot to be seen in the sky, though her mother, Maud, might argue otherwise and say far more interesting things could be seen if one examined rocks.
Pebble was not the average earth pony, and she knew it.
“Sumac?” Hearing the distress in Megara’s voice, Pebble whirled around, uncertain of what she might see.
Armed with her mother’s deadpan expression, Pebble moved with a slow but purposeful gait towards Sumac, who was being led along by Starlight Glimmer. He was blindfolded—again—because he had no doubt seared his retinas—again—and poor Starlight appeared as though she had gone for a walk through an active war zone. Vast patches of her pelt were gone, she had blisters, burns, abrasions, her mane crackled with static, she limped, and one of her eyes was almost swollen shut. Pebble knew the cause, and pitied her.
Subduing an alicorn—any alicorn, even the weakest of the alicorns—was something that most ponies had no hopes of accomplishing. As Sumac matured, he was becoming an electrical powerhouse and his fits of temper converted into raw amperage. Pebble had a growing concern for Sumac’s magical alignment, because unlike fire and ice, very little control could be had with lightning. Sumac’s temper issues made everything worse, and Pebble feared his emotional instability.
“Sumac?” Olive’s voice was commanding, yet somehow also vulnerable.
In a scratchy, fatigued voice, he stated the obvious: “I surged.”
“You’ll have to get your eyes fixed again.” Olive had a peculiar calm to her words, given what she had to say. “Master”—she bowed her head in Starlight’s direction and then raised it once more after a few respectful seconds—“it looks as though you had a rough go of it.”
“Olive…” Starlight’s voice wavered and for an eyeblink, it seemed as though she might topple over. “I have released you from your bond and you are my apprentice no longer.” The battered mare sighed, her eyes went downcast, and one injured elbow wobbled. “I am so proud of you for what you’ve accomplished.”
Pebble, unconcerned by the conversation, went to Sumac’s side, nudged him, and then began to herd him away while Starlight and Olive continued their exchange. They needed a private moment to say goodbye, and Pebble wondered where Sumac’s mothers were. Perhaps Lemon Hearts was in need of care and they couldn’t make it.
With great fanfare, mostly hooting, whooping, and hollering, Twilight Sparkle arrived with Moondancer in tow. The bespectacled sweater-wearing mare was one of Twilight’s many trusted administrators. Time was short now, and the train would be here sooner, rather than later. Pebble could feel the urgency of every passing minute and she stonily stood guard while Sumac and Olive engaged in a little last minute necking.
More of a crowd had formed, which left Pebble anxious and out of sorts.
Silver Lining returned from the cafe, bearing an iced coffee drink for Sumac, and Pebble could see that the lumbering griffoness was having a hard time navigating the train platform. Shyness was still a major issue for Silver Lining, and might forever be, but she handled it better than she had when she was a cub. Pebble had fond, affectionate memories of Silver Lining’s clinginess, and how she hung on for dear life to everypony she trusted.
“Where are your parents?” Pebble heard Olive whisper.
She heard Sumac say in return, “I begged them not to embarrass me while I said goodbye.”
Then, from behind her, Pebble heard the sound of kissing—the intense slurping kind that involved slapping a pony’s tonsils into submission. She felt a twinge of jealousy—it was impossible not to feel this way—but there was also relief. For a time, Pebble had been in a rush to sort out her sexuality, to find out which way her barn door swung, but an encounter—a heartfelt conversation—with Aunt Pinkie had resolved that problem quite nicely. It didn’t matter which way her barn door swung—but oh how she longed to have more time with Olive so that she could experiment.
For Olive, foalhood had reached its end. Pebble had once raced for the finish line, unsatisfied to remain young, but now, more than ever, she saw the folly in that. She wanted these years to stretch out and last as long as possible, because they would be over far too soon. Sure, Olive could have waited a little longer, another year or two, but she had wanted to get started now. While Pebble respected that, she also resented her friend for leaving.
The herd was breaking up and there would be no recovering it. It seemed that the best of friends—friends who had survived so much together, had faced so many threats together, friends who had almost been killed together—could not survive the end of foalhood. Not only had Olive grown up, but she was going away, off to start a career. Not just any career, either, but the sort that demanded all of her, and left nothing to share.
Pebble, lost in introspection, wondered how she would ever recover from this.
When Twilight Sparkle cleared her throat in front of the microphone, the portable amplifier squealed and every ear present pricked in pain. Moondancer made hurried adjustments and threatened the electrical gremlins with furious, fiery destruction, but with her soft, soothing voice, it sounded as though it would be such a wonderful, delightful thing, something to enjoy, something pleasant.
Pebble knew better. Since being taken by changelings and tortured, Moondancer had issues. The quiet, soft-spoken mare almost seemed as though she was a welcome mat just waiting to be walked on—but welcome mats in general did not have a talent that focused specifically on magic—and since her capture Moondancer had recovered her confidence by immersing herself in the destructive arts.
Rumour had it that Moondancer had gone to Dim for tutelage; whatever the truth was, she had come home from the Crystal Empire a different mare. Still quiet, still mellow, still the same shy, sweet mare, so tender and reserved—until she wasn’t. Pebble had seen it with her own eyes and she had heard stories of Moondancer’s role in the battle that had taken place here in Ponyville when the ice orcs had invaded the Crystal Empire.
Beware the quiet ones.
“I want to begin this with an apology, everypony, because I’m sorry for what I am about to do,” Twilight Sparkle said, holding her head back from the microphone. “Olive, you’re a bad filly for not finishing school!” Twilight’s stern rebuke didn’t last long and her stern face softened, then melted. Lower lip quivering, her eyes watered and tears could be seen pooling in the corners. “You’re also one of my very best students, and your growth and transformation into the young mare that you are today is exactly what I had hoped to accomplish when I first opened my school. With the exception of not graduating, you have exceeded all of my expectations and filled my heart with joy.”
Moving to stand beside Twilight, Starlight Glimmer nodded, causing some of her scorched mane to crumble away. Pebble noticed for the first time that Starlight’s eyebrows were gone—just gone—and she had no eyelashes whatsoever. What had Sumac done? What insane courage did Starlight have to appear in public looking the way she did?
“When you came to my school, you were a special case, Olive. I debated with myself the merits of taking you in. You didn’t meet the enrollment qualifications, but something had to be done. In the end, I couldn’t make the decision on my own and I had to return to my mentor for advice. She told me about another troubled filly… that filly became the school bully, but showed so much promise. Like you, she never graduated. Unlike you, she never quite got with the program. That filly was Trixie Lulamoon and she is now one of Princess Celestia’s most prized graduates… just as you will be remembered as one of my most prized graduates… someday. At least, that is my hope. But you’re going to have to do something pretty darn spectacular to earn my forgiveness after dropping out of school! Until then, no diploma for you!”
“Thank you, Headmistress Sparkle, for giving me yet another goal to strive for, and something I can accomplish in the future.” When Olive stepped forwards, Pebble saw tears on her friend’s face, and the drab green filly was shaking from ear to hoof. “Without you and your school, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Come back to me when you curbstomp a thousand-year-old evil or something.” Nostrils flaring, Twilight began to sniffle and her lower lip rippled in an odd, supple way. “Maybe save the world once or twice, and then we’ll talk.”
Pebble glanced in the direction of Olive’s parents for a moment and then had to turn away in a hurry. Both of them were sobbing into each other’s necks and for Pebble, the sight of it was almost too much to bear. The sun was dipping even lower and far to the south, she heard a train whistle blow. It was the worst sound in the world, as far as Pebble was concerned.
“All of you who are leaving home this day,” Twilight said while her eyes darted around, “I thank you, and Ponyville thanks you. Go make friends! Discover the magic of camaraderie! In the guard, you are going to meet ponies and other creatures from all over the wonderful land of Equestria. They will have different customs, different ways, and they will talk differently too. Revel in it! Make the most of it! Those are the things that make friends extra special! Treasure what makes us different, and hold fast to what we all have in common!”
Twilight’s words were met with some applause and she waited for it to die down before she continued, “Some of you are going to join the Royal Guard Corps of Gringineers… now, I don’t want to play favourites, and that isn’t what I am trying to do, but I have an extra-special message of thanks for you. Some of us are pacifists”—her eyes scanned the crowd, reading faces, and gauged reactions—“while others have strong convictions and deeply held beliefs.”
Brows furrowing, Twilight’s mane didn’t quite hide the wrinkles just below her horn. “There is a lot of talk of cowardice that I hear every day. Some pretty awful things are being said about the ponies who join the Corps of Gringineers. Well, I have this to say: never let anypony call you a coward, or talk down to you, or try to shame you by saying that you’re not brave enough to die for your country. We are at war! A war with multiple fronts! And with so many of our best and our brightest being sent away overseas and being dispatched to foreign lands, we are desperate to fight the war on poverty here at home. It is of no less importance.”
Not much applause was heard, and this bothered Pebble so much that she stomped her hooves even harder, which caused the platform to quake. Before a panic could set in, she eased off just a little, but still stomped with great enthusiasm. A practical pony, Pebble saw the merit in having a branch of the guard just for ponies who didn’t want to fight, but still wanted to devote their lives to something meaningful.
Angling her head upwards, Pebble looked up at Olive, and then bumped her to get her attention. When Olive looked down, Pebble gave her the best come-hither eyes that she could muster, and when Olive bent down, Pebble kissed her. It started off as a simple kiss goodbye, but it seemed that Olive had other plans. When Olive’s lips parted, Pebble found herself being invaded, and for once, she laid her competitive nature to rest.
It was a sweet moment made sweeter when Pebble allowed for it to happen.
The chuffing of the train could be heard now and Pebble was saddened when she knew just how short this kiss would be. Sure enough, as the train drew nearer, Olive pulled away. Pebble gazed into Olive’s olive coloured eyes, anxious, hoping to spot some portion of Olive’s soul that she could snatch away and keep safe forever.
Grunting, Pebble pulled Olive into a hug, and then gestured at Silver Lining. The griffoness grabbed Sumac, hauled him in, and while holding his coffee drink in her primaries, she swept up all three ponies at once without effort. Then, she hugged them and Pebble feared that Olive might have to get spinal surgery rather than go to Canterlot.
Sumac, crushed between two fillies and one mighty large and rather pudgy griffoness, had this to say: “Olive you, Olive you so much.”
“Sumac Apple Lulamoon,” Olive whispered in response, “you are the worst of ponies.”
With the screech of metal on metal, the train slid into the station. Twilight was still talking, but Pebble hadn’t heard a word. Silver Lining let go and much to Pebble’s dismay, she saw Olive’s parents. Feeling awful, Pebble disliked them just a tiny bit for taking away some of this precious time, and she disliked herself even more for feeling this way. Sometimes, she was just so selfish that she couldn’t stand herself.
Pulling back, Pebble watched as Olive embraced her parents and like a lizard in the sun, she basked in the warmth of their familial embrace. Twilight was still yammering away, saying Twilight things, inspiring ponies in her own special Twilight way, and while Pebble knew these words were important, she didn’t have it in her heart to listen. Wrapping her foreleg around Sumac’s foreleg, she jerked the blind colt closer, pressed herself against him, and rubbed her snoot against his scorched, somewhat charred cheek, just below his blindfold.
He smelled of ozone, of burnt hair, charred wood, and of thunderstorms. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Silver Lining had slipped the straw of the iced coffee drink between Sumac’s lips, and then, Pebble heard him slurp it down. She could feel the lump in his throat when he swallowed, she heard him breathing, and perhaps gaining a new level of near-marehood, she had a new kind of understanding of what Sumac meant to her.
But it had come at such a cost: the loss of Olive.
It was only through heartbreak that Pebble had reached this new plateau of maturity. This was wisdom paid for with loss. It wasn’t just Sumac, Pebble realised, but Silver Lining too, though her feelings were somewhat different for the griffoness—these nebulous, unknown feelings that she had no understanding of. Which way did her barn door swing? With Olive leaving, Pebble would have to remain curious: griffon-curious. Who knew what sapphic, supple, secret delights awaited discovery?
Even though she desperately wanted to hold on to her foalhood, Pebble had grown, and it had happened just a moment ago. A spurt of growth that had taken place in an eyeblink. Olive was exchanging tearful goodbyes with her parents and watching this, Pebble was overcome with a curious sense of joy. Why did she feel this way? She didn’t know and wasn’t sure. Olive was departing—they were losing one of the core members of their juvenile herd, as was the monniker placed upon it by the adults, who had to give such silly names to everything.
But…
With the loss of one, what remained felt stronger.
Applejack had once tried to explain to a distraught and weeping Sumac that pruning the apple trees didn’t hurt them, but made them stronger, because it encouraged them to grow. Maybe Applejack was wrong—perhaps pruning did hurt, just as Sumac insisted that it did—but the wise country mare was also right: lopping a limb off made the tree grow stronger. Pebble had lived just long enough to witness the results for herself and they were undeniable.
Sumac would recover from this pruning, but it would take time. An emotional, excitable sort, there was nothing that could be done for Sumac to aid his recovery, but wait. So, Pebble would wait, and when Sumac started to feel a little better, he would no doubt want to plant an apple tree, because that was how he expressed his loss, and the rear garden behind his house was a testament, a monument to his losses. Olive had even helped to plant a few of those trees, and now, Pebble was certain that one would be planted for their missing herd member.
But Sumac would not plant a tree until he was ready to let go, and that could take months, or even a year. Pebble found the whole thing quite endearing, and in yet another moment of profound realisation, she knew that it was something she treasured about him. Musing, thinking her thoughts, she listened to the sound of the train, of Sumac drinking iced coffee, of the ponies on the platform saying goodbye, and she took note that Twilight Sparkle had gone silent.
In fact, Twilight was coming in this direction.
Olive broke away from her parents and the helmet on her head glinted in the last dying rays of sunlight. The train brought with it quite a stink; hot metal, burning coal, machine oil, the stench of industry. It was only a ceremonial helmet for now, no doubt worn by hundreds who had been accepted, but one day soon, Olive would wear the real thing, the sort of helmet that would transform her into uniform regularity.
“Twilight?” Olive awaited whatever it was that the Princess of Friendship had to say.
Poor, unfortunate Twilight, she appeared as though she might burst at any minute. “I’m so proud of you, Olive. Look at what you’ve accomplished… not alone, but with friends. You are going to go on to do great things… amazing things… may your loyalty to Princess Celestia be unwavering.”
“Thank you, Twilight.”
“You didn’t just make friends… you made special friends,” Twilight babbled while her legs flexed and she bounced in place. “You made friends with the difficult ponies, the ones that it was hard to be friends with. Olive, you chose the hard way, and I’m so proud of you.”
Rolling her eyes, Pebble groaned. So she was difficult, was she?
“You gave a shy griffoness her confidence, made a manticore spawn feel accepted, won over a wary dragon’s trust, taught the most selfish pony I know how to share, and you were a constant, true friend to a pony that you once called your enemy. Somepony that you hurt. You even shared a dark moment together and you faced the Queen of the Changelings. Olive, you’ve proven that you’re more than capable of advanced friendship, which is why I expect so much more from you than the others. Now, get on that train and go do great things. Once, a long time ago, I had to leave Canterlot and my friends behind to come here. Now, you’re leaving Ponyville to go to Canterlot. Every great thing starts with something precious ending.”
Still miffed that Twilight had called her difficult—and selfish—Pebble groaned again. Twilight would pay—in time—but that would have to come later. Right now, what Pebble really wanted was a hug from Twilight, because those were special, but she wasn’t about to ask for one. Nope. No way.
“Goodbye, Olive.” Sumac’s voice was foalish in Pebble’s ears.
“See ya around, Sumac,” Olive replied, and like Sumac, she didn’t sound quite so grown up.
“Good luck.” Silver Lining didn’t move from where she was hunkered, holding Sumac’s cold drink.
“Thank you.” Olive bowed her head as ponies boarded the train behind her.
Unsure of what else to say, Pebble repeated the words to the song that she had sang earlier this very day, but there was no joy in it, just the sound of a broken heart trying to have its say. No excitement, no feeling, she spoke the words in her mother’s borrowed deadpan. “You've got to win a little, lose a little, yes, and always have the blues a little. That's the story of, that's the glory of love. That's the story of, that's the glory of love.”
“Cheer up, Pebble Pie.” Olive smiled, and her white teeth stood out in sharp contrast to her gold helmet. “Remember to keep practicing those angry kegels and then give Sumac exactly what he deserves when the time comes.” While the green filly spoke, her mother let out a sad, sniffling snicker, while her father averted his gaze.
“Okay.” Raising her hoof, Pebble waved, and offered a final goodbye.
Raising one fuzzy paw, Megara saluted, and this was returned by Olive. Then, as Pebble watched, Olive bit her lip, turned around, and strode away. So this was how it ended, in a bittersweet funk that Pebble wasn’t sure how to feel about. Pebble blinked, and Twilight Sparkle moved in such a way that only Twilight Sparkle could. She was on Olive in an eyeblink and like Silver Lining had done so many times before, Twilight Sparkle tried to squeeze Olive into oil.
It lasted for but a few precious seconds, but it gave Pebble a little extra time to stare at Olive’s plush, generous hindquarters. Somewhere beneath Olive’s wavy, flowing tail, was a mysterious, unseen entity that Sumac called Sweet Pea, whom Sumac had claimed as a pen pal, and to whom he frequently wrote letters to. Once, in a fit of flirting, Sumac had chased after Olive, a letter levitated over his head, shouting that he had to deliver the mail and would she please present her mailslot for delivery.
Even though it hurt, Pebble smiled, a secretive little smirk that made the corner of her mouth curl up. Sweet Pea had two sisters; Cocoa Nib and Silver Button. When Pebble’s first letter had arrived, addressed to ‘Cocoa Nib,’ she had almost hyperventilated from hysteria. Silver Lining was too embarrassed and too shy to share her letters, but Pebble could imagine what they had to say.
Twilight let go and with a few steps, Olive vanished into the train. Pebble sighed, distraught, and knew that tonight had to be a sleepover night. They needed to be together and it was her job—Pebble was The Stone—to hold up her companions in times of trouble. Olive was gone, the circle was broken, which meant that it was time to grow up and move on.
Though unwilling, Pebble found that she was ready, and she knew that she would get through this somehow. Pulling Sumac closer, she smooched him on the cheek, then she grabbed Silver Lining, hauled her in, and smooched her as well, getting a mouthful of feathers for her troubles.
The glory of love had left Sumac blinded, Silver Lining sad, and Pebble broken-hearted, but between the three of them they both still had so much left to give. At least they still had each other—for now—and Pebble was determined to keep them all together somehow. Everything hurt, and everything sucked, but Pebble knew just how to fix it.
“Hey, let’s pig out on ice cream in the cafe… it’s too damn hot.”
