Where the Fruit Grows Redder
Chapter One: Someplace Greener
It was the awakening of the evening. Long, finger-like golden rays stretched across the flat horizon of the grassy fields on the outskirts of Filly Delphia. The shimmering sunbeams cast down brilliantly onto a large area of land hidden by thick rows of apple trees. Beyond the blooming forest was nothing but a large cabin and dinky barn owned by a small portion of the Apple family. The name of this remote chunk of land was named Sweet Apple Orchard, and had the responsibility of providing for all of those in the large city next to it. Nopony was going to lie, it was a hard business. Having to divide all the work between two adults and a trio of kids wasn't easy. The family always managed, though. Even with the large amounts of work each had to endure, nopony complained. The conditions were fair, and even after working nine hours of the day, the Apples always found time for each other and entertainment. In the end of the day, all the had work was worth it...
Well, at least, nopony ever vocalized that it wasn't. The older teenagers of the household did struggle trying to keep their work, educations, and social lives all in balance. One in particular, however, found it more of a problem than others. Within his mind, he always thought of how much he hated the long hours of labor. He hated the sweltering heat in the summer, and the way he could never sleep without an aching body. He hated the little time he had to socialize with the little friends he actually had. He hated most of all, however, that he always felt like the weakest link. He'd work just as long as the others, and put in just as much effort, yet his work was hardly ever recognized. His family was always focused on his older siblings, all of which were physically stronger, and were able to get more work done with not as much effort. The youngest sibling would get recognized for was the fact he'd work late. Every evening, after he siblings went inside to rest, Braeburn would stay outside amongst the large orchard of apple trees. With the day coming slowly to a close, he was happy he only had one more wagon to fill before the days end. As he made his way through the ripe red delicious trees, the young earth pony stopped to buck only the ones that looked the most plentiful. The towering rows were always easy to navigate through. Although most trees were already stripped bare by his siblings, Braeburn always found a good tree if he ventured further outside the most inner row. The further he went, the better trees he found. He was nearly seven rows of apple trees in before he at long last found one that looked good enough to buck. As he approached it, he removed himself from his half-full wagon and went through the same repeated process he'd done numerous times that day.
For what felt like the thousandth time that evening, Braeburn levitated his hind legs, using his front ones to keep balance. At that moment, sweat was matting his yellow and orange mane and dripping down his reddened face. His green eyes were weary from the long day of hard labor, and his mind was numb from hours without rest. As hard as his lame body could, the colt kicked his hind legs back. His yellow hooves cannoned into the rough bark of the apple tree, which caused it to tremble from impact. After the hard kick, the same thing happened that had happened every time he bucked a tree; a small cluster of ripe apples would rain from the treetops and down into his wooden wagon below. Nearly seven ripe apples fell into the near-full wagon below. A few stray ones landed to the side, but that wasn't Braeburn's biggest concern at the time. All he could concentrate on was the harsh ache in his back legs. He felt as though he'd collapse if he bucked one more tree. Thankfully for him, his day was over.
Last one... He thought as he panted heavily. Thank Celestia that was the last one.
The young pony took in a few deep breaths, trying hard to regain feeling in his hind legs and chest. His heart burned from hulling what felt like a hundred pounds of apples from tree to tree, and his haunches were on fire. After regaining small amounts of his composure, the pony made his way back over to his wooden wagon. The vehicle was perfect for Braeburn's size. It was in the shape of a square, and around a meter in all sides. It was deep enough to hold nearly three hundred apples, but the colt decided to hold a portion of that for the sake of his back. He latched himself onto the harness and proceeded to trot deep into the orchard, heading home with another load of sweet apples.
Alright... Braeburn thought as he trotted. Just today you got nearly ten wagons full of apples. That's two more than yesterday... That should be enough to top Cortland, right?Or at least Ginger Gold. I mean, yesterday you had an excuse because you were workin' the kitchen most the day, but today you've had a lot more time to buck apples. Plus, I didn't see Cortland and Goldy working too too hard. I mean, most the time Cortland was just lounging around doing nothing. He couldn't've gotten that much done.
Going through many rows of red delicious beauties, Braeburn took a moment to examine the scenery around him. He'd been born into a family dedicated to the art of apple farming, and to his luck, was born in a large apple orchard. It was about half the size of his family's farm outside Ponyville, but it was enough to provide for Filly Delphia if they worked their absolute hardest.
I wonder who the first Apple was... the young stallion thought to himself as he gazed at the plentiful trees. I mean, Obviously somepony had to start this whole apple thing off. I just wonder her originally set everything up. I wonder why they chose apples of all fruits... I mean, apples have always been in pretty high demand, so I guess it's good to start a business off with. Wonder if my life would've been different if it'd been a different fruit.
Brauburn looked at the ground for a moment, thinking about the wide variety of crops he could have ended up with. Lots of things sounded reasonable, while some things sounded too odd to make too big of a profit off of.
Maybe it'd be nice to work with a lower-needed fruit, though. I wouldn't have to work so hard. It was then, the colt chuckled.
"Come on, now, Brae. Don't start with lazy thinkin'. Apple buckin's prob'ly the only way ya manage to stay in shape."
Although that was true, the colt still didn't appreciate the burning in his legs and back after the long day of work. Maybe a little break from all the hard labor would have been good for him. It was a thought he seldom considered, knowing he had little options no matter what he wanted.
Quickly, Braeburn shook the thought of breaking from his mind. He continued on down the forest trail. He was lost of thought at that point, and more focused on simply getting home to relax. His quickened his pace, almost to a point he was at a gallop. He wasn't far from home, and just wanted to be there. More than anything, he wanted to get a good meal in his system and have a nice, long night's rest. The exciting thought of no more effort was a good one, and tempted the pony closer to home. Swiftly, the stallion picked up his pace and galloped as fast as he could with the wagon behind him. His aching body was overshadowed by the thought of relaxation. He went as fast as he could, weaving through branches at the speed of sound. His little, wood house glowed brightly in the background. As he drew closer, he could smell the faint scent of dinner cooking. His mouth started to water as he picked up hints of vegetables and apple cinnamon. He took in a deep whiff as he galloped faster. He was going so fast and had his green eyes glued on the cabin so much, he hardly even noticed it when he hit a root in his path. His front hooves hit the thick python, which caused him to suddenly fall. With a grunt, he landed on the ground face first. Unfortunately, his harness was on him tight enough to take the cart with him. The little wagon tilted upwards, causing many of the apples to fall out and roll leisurely down the slanted path. At first, the earth pony didn't notice. He was too concentrated on the pain in his jaw and chest to worry about that.
Man, does that hurt... Braeburn moaned in pain as he lowered his hind legs, only to be shocked at the feeling of a rather light wagon being dropped with him. He opened his eyes and saw a red delicious tumbling by him. He frowned as he stood up from his positing, no longer caring about the pain. He turned around, only to see a half-empty wagon behind him. His green eyes went wide as he gasped in horror.
"Oh, no, no, no, no, no!" The poor pony detached himself from the harness and examined the mess he'd made. Long rows of apples had been running down the hill, all gathering at the bottom in mass. His heart sunk and his ears flattened at the site. "Oh no..."
"Once an apple's touched the ground, it's dirty." Braeburn's mother's voice range in his mind. "And we do no serve dirty apples on this farm. It's clean or nothin'!"
Frantically, the teen picked up a few of the apples around the wagon and tossed them inside. He knew his mother wouldn't have been too happy if she found out he "wasted" that much crop. His mother and father were both easily angered when it came to things affecting their business. It was always a bit annoying, considering the family had plenty in savings and could even risk a bad harvest.
Gingerly, Braeburn placed the apples back into the wagon, making sure they looked as pristine as possible. He picked up one after another, only ignoring the ones that looked too banged up or dirty to keep. After getting only around thirteen stray apples back in the cart, he saw the front door of his home -which was only a few meters away- open. He almost instantly went into a mental panic. He knew for sure his family wouldn't be too impressed by his accident, and didn't think he'd get caught so soon.
Out of the wooden doorframe walked a pony Braeburn recognized as his mother; Apple Blossom. She was a middle aged mare with a very light yellow coat. Her orange mane was put back in a ponytail, and her eyes were a fair mid between orange and red. Her warm colors were very contradictory to the lime green ribbon around her chest. She carried pride in her walk, but concern in her expression as she approached her son.
"You okay, Hun?" she asked as she grew nearer. "Honeycrisp said she saw ya fall."
Braeburn, trying to act as casual as possible, leaned against the side of apple wagon with a forced grin.
"'Course I am, Ma. Jus' tripped over a root is all."
"Oh, good." The mare tossed her son a smile and approached his wagon. When she saw the thing was half full, she frowned and gazed at the teenager. "Did ya lose apples when you tripped?"
"Oh, well..." The colt rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "K-kinda.... It really wasn't much, though."
His mother, of course, wouldn't leave it at "It really wasn't that much". She felt the need to look around the area of the wagon for stray fruits. She only saw but a few, which made her feel a little reassured.
"That all you dropped?"
To that, Braeburn didn't know exactly how to respond. He didn't want his mother to know how much he really dropped, considering the fact he may get lectured. At the same time, however, he was always taught honestly is the best policy. He knew his mother would appreciate it if he told her the truth, but he also knew she'd appreciate it more if she thought her fruit was safe. After taking a short moment to weigh his options, Braeburn made his decision hastily.
"Ah, uhh.... Well, a few tumbled down the hill, too." He replied as casually as possible. With that said, his mother turned and looked down the hillside closest to where Braeburn tripped. At the bottom of the hill, a large group of apples huddled together. There must have been at least thirty red delicious beauties, which made the mare gasp in shock.
"A few?!" Apple Blossom's voice crescendoed in frustration at her offspring. "Is that really a few to you? Do ya jus' not care that much?" It was then. the mare took in a breath, realizing calling him careless was a bit much for the situation. Her son had shrunken back in fear from her change of tone, so she decided to start off again in a much calmer fashion. "Listen Brae..." she said with a dramatically softer tone. "I know you work hard 'n' all, but ya have to be more careful. We can't afford to lose any more crops than we already have 'cause a different accidents. Most of them you caused. You know how big of a pain it is."
"It wasn't that much, Ma..." he argued dismissively.
"Sure it was. You just don't understand how much it really is 'cause you're young. You really need to start ta learn the value of small things." The mare frowned and made her way to the harness of the wagon. She latched it on to herself an started walking with the light load. Braeburn took in a breath to speak up, but she quickly interrupted him. "Ah'm gonna go put these apple's wit the rest of 'em. You go inside and eat or whatever. I'll clean up the mess you made in a bit."
"You don' have to do that!" Braeburn argued rather aggressively. "I made the mess, I'll clean it up."
"No. You just go back inside. Ya've worked hard enough for the day."
Braeburn's face went blank in confusion at his mother's command. She always volunteered to fix others mistakes in the most aggressive manner possible. It was a tone that could make anypony feel guilty, and was definitely something Braeburn hated to hear. Not wanting to get into an argument, however, the teenager sighed started off towards home.
"Okay, Ma." He agreed quietly. As his mother went to the shed near the back of the house, Braeburn headed inside with his head hanging low. He felt insulted by the way his mother spoke to him, and upset at himself for letting her take so much control. He wanted to go back into the orchard and pick up his mess before his mom had the chance to, but he could already see that causing problems.
As Braeburn entered his house, he was hit by the scent of dinner cooking. It smelt like fried vegetables and apple treats baking. The sound of his siblings and father chatting away and laughing penetrated his ears. They were all at the kitchen table, which was very close to the colt the moment he walked in. The door closed behind him, which caught the attention of his sister.
Honeycrisp -Braeburn's only sister- was one of the colt's favorite siblings. Not only was she one of the oldest, but she was also quite pretty. She had apple green eyes like her brother, and a soft yellow coat. Her mane, which was a blend of red and red-orange, was kept tightly in braids and hung down to her chest. She also wore a soft, red ribbon around her neck and a brown cowpony hat atop her head. She was by far the friendliest pony in the family.
"Hey Braeburn!" the young filly called her brother from the kitchen table, waving him down. "Y'alright? I saw ya take quite the fall back there."
The colt tossed his sister a friendly grin and nodded.
"Ah'm fine. Jus' tripped over a branch or somethin'."
"Oh. As long as you're okay." Honeycrisp paused. "We're havin' fried veggie salad for dinner in a bit."
"Oh, that's cool..." the colt returned the grin before turning away and looking at the stares. "I have to go for a few minutes. I'll be back soon."
Honeycrisp responded with a nod, which gave Braeburn the okay to go upstairs and lock himself away for a bit. None of his other siblings said anything. Being the youngest in the family, he often times had a difficult time socializing with the others, and they seldom made conversation with him. He was used to it.
Trying to put the day behind him, Braeburn climbed up the wooden staircase, trotted down the hall, and to his room in the very back. When he entered it, it was left the same way it'd been that morning; messy and unkept. He let out a long sigh as he gazed at the surroundings. His bed was tossed around the floor from waking up that morning. His dresser was a mess of orange mane, odd and end pieces of clothing, and pieces of trash. His floor was a mess, decorated in little parts of his day and days past.
Taking in a breath, the young colt made his way to his bed. He frowned as he plopped backwards onto the soft surface. The instant he made contact with firm mattress, his entire body ached severely. The teenager let out a moan and repositioned his legs, trying to get comfortable in the odd spot. More than anything at that point, he just wanted to get comfortable to take a nap. His mind, however, was too active, thinking about every detail of the recent events.
I don't know... It just seems like it isn't worth it anymore. I mean, Ma seldom thanks me for pitching in overtime... Heck, Pa even says I should be doing it 'cause I'm weaker than the rest of my siblings.... Like, I'm not that bad! I get just as much work done, I just don't have the strength to do it as quickly... Braeburn frowned and gazed down at his burning legs. They were so much skinnier and weaker than the rest of his family's. He wished they'd strengthen up one of those days. It seemed like no matter how hard he pushed himself, they just stayed flimsy and weak. Maybe when I finally hit puberty I'll be stronger... I mean, most fifteen year-old colts already developed and everything... Why do I have to be so darn late...? Ma always tells me it's in our genes and whatnot, but it still sucks... Maybe since everypony's such a late bloomer, they should at least give me some slack... Honeycrisp's the only one that understands, but she's a girl! Fillies aren't held to the same expectations as us... They wouldn't understand... Braeburn turned on his side. His eyes met with his brother's bed and dresser, along with a large wall containing a clock, several family photos, along with many individual pictures of family members. Most, Braeburn hardly ever knew. He gazed at it for a moment, before taking in a breath and sighing. I don't know... I love my family... I just don't all the responsibilities it takes to be an Apple.
It was then, Braeburn's ear twitched at the sound of a door opening behind him. He hesitantly turned back around onto his opposite side, only to meet eyes with his oldest brother, Cortland. He was the pride of the family, and was one of the toughest Apples in that orchard. He was given the hardest tasks, and had a very athletic build. His coat was a soft orange, while his mane was a deep shade of red. His eyes, like most of his family's, were green. On his head, he wore a cowpony hat.
"Dinner's done," he announced with a smile. "Better get down 'ere before there's nothin' left."
"Ah will..." Braeburn forced a smile towards his brother. "I'm just kinda worn out at the moment..."
"I understand." Cortland smiled as he kicked his hoof back in a bucking motion. "Been buckin' all day. Got sixteen full wagons a' apples in." he chuckled, while Braeburn internally frowned at the rather large amount. "Don't worry 'bout it. You'll get there someday..." he reassured his younger sibling.
"Yeah..." Braeburn chuckled. "Hey, umm... Can Ah ask ya somethin'?"
"Go for it."
"Do ya think.... Do you... Did you, when you were my age, did ya ever think it was too much work?"
To that, Cortland simply cocked his head and gave Braeburn a confused stare.
"What do ya mean?"
"Well, Ah mean... Like, do you ever feel too overworked or somethin'? Like, you're too tired to even walk, but ya still got tons to do?"
Cortland thought for a moment. He hadn't actually thought he'd been overworked, and even putting himself into Braeburn's hooves, didn't quite get where he was coming from.
"Braeburn, Ah... Ah don't really know what to say. I don't honestly think it's too much work, and I mean, my body's always been able ta handle it... I think you jus' need to toughen out a bit... I mean, we all have to work, and with you bringing in the least amount of crop, it jus' seems like..." The colt cut himself off. "I don't know... Just wash up and get ready to eat... We'll be waitin'."
Before Braeburn could even think of a response. his brother trotted out from the doorframe and into the hall, leaving his brother with nothing but thoughts.
I don't know... I mean, I like apples, they're a great fruit and all, but... I just don't know if it's worth it... Do I really wanna be bucking apples until I die..? What if there's something I'm happier doing in life... Something that doesn't involve working in harsh conditions for hours on end? With a frown, the stallion looked down at his legs again. This time, he payed special attention to his cutie marks; a single apple, red and ripe with a stem coming out. He thought for a moment, before taking in a breath. Maybe I just wasn't made to be a farmer... Maybe there's something else I can do involving apples. Maybe, somewhere out there, there's an orchard that doesn't require you to work so hard. Or one that takes good length breaks between cooking and harvesting and chores and all. Maybe there's someplace out there for me, that's just a bit greener than where I am now...
Where the Fruit Grows Redder
Chapter Two: Special Delivery
Chapter Two: Special Delivery
Sparkling sunlight bled in through the window and onto the face of the young, sleeping pony. His orange and yellow mane was a complete wreck with hairs sticking out in every direction. His cheeks had sticky saliva trails going down them, and his eyes were highlighted with crust. He was snoring softly as sunlight hit him. When his eyes noticed the dramatic change in lighting, they slowly opened. He woke up to the site of his room fully lit. When he took notice of his surroundings, Braeburn's green eyes widened dramatically.
What time is it?!
The young stallion turned his head, only to see the clock announce the time; nine thirty in the morning. The moment Braeburn absorbed the information, he jumped out of his bed and ran out of his room. How could he have possibly awoken that late? Why didn't his alarm go off? Why didn't anypony wake him up?
Going at full gallop, the colt ran down the stairs, nearly tripping a few times. When he entered his living room at the bottom of the staircase, the sweet smell of pastries, pies, and deserts of all kinds hit his nostrils. He took in a deep whiff, almost drooling at the scent. From the kitchen, he could hear the faint sound of rustling and conversation. He trotted to the right and made his way onto tile flooring. Behind a wall was the main kitchen. His family was there, adjusting a wagon. He was a tad bit confused, seeing how nopony mentioned an order. Breaburn wearily rubbed his left eye and yawned, which caught the attention of his family. His sister tossed him a smile, which was returned discreetly. He then turned his attention to the rest of his family.
"What's goin' on?" he asked in a deep, tired voice.
"Jus' gettin' an order together," his mom announced proudly. "Got an order late las' night after you passed out."
"Oh... Where to?"
"Some gentlecolt down in Canterlot." she responded. She took a moment to close the top of the wagon, securing the treats. "Our fam'ly back in Ponyville had a pretty bad floodin' and's too busy cleaning everything up. We had to prepare this all last night and early this morning."
"Oh... Why didn't anypony wake me? I mean, Ah coulda helped."
"We jus' wanted to let ya rest," Honeycrisp answered hastily. "We had enough workin' the kitchen as it was. Didn't think we needed any extra support or nothin'."
With that said, the other members of the family nodded their heads in agreement. Braeburn liked the explanation, but had a nagging feeling something else was up. Did they think he was too clumsy to be trusted? Not diligent enough? Whatever the reason, Braeburn felt insulted deep inside.
"Oh... Well, alright." Braeburn forced a smile onto his face. "Should I start workin' the feilds or something now?"
It was then, Braeburn's mother and father looked at each other unsurely. Apple Blossom thought a moment before looking at her son with a half smile.
"I, umm.... Well, we were just thinkin' that maybe you could run these treats up ta Canterlot for us. Ah know you're pretty good with speed and, erm... Socializing? So we thought you'd be more cut out for the job."
"Really?" the colt asked, almost confused. In the past, he was seldom asked to make a delivery. The only time they found it necessary was when Hearth's Warming was around, and there were many celebrations and events taking place. Any other day of the year was handled by one of the parents or an older siblings.
"Well, I mean, yeah. Your father can handle the rest a' the apple-buckin'." the mother said with a smile.
"Ummm.... okay." Why me? Do they just want to get rid of me for a bit...? I don't get it.... "When do Ah have to leave?"
To answer that, Apple Blossom simply turned to her husband, who had a better understanding of Equestria's railroad system. He thought for a moment, before answering confidently.
"I believe the next train departures 'round ten in the morning." He tossed a reassuring smile to his son. "You'd better go now if you want to catch it on time."
Ten in the morning...?
"Who the hay needs apple treats this early in the day?" Braeburn questioned with a bit of attitude in his tone.
"Apparently whoever ordered them needs 'em by noon today. Our cousins didn't say why, but Ah'm not gonna let a costumer down."
Braeburn sighed. He wondered why his parents chose him to do such an irritating task. It's not like he was that experienced in delivery. Maybe it was there way of trying to figure out something he was good at? Whatever was going on, the young colt wasn't too happy about.
"Well, alright." Braeburn agreed with slight hesitation. "I s'pose I'll be on my way then..."
"Good!" his father replied, almost happily. Quickly, he attached the harness of the cart to his chest and started pulling it out of the kitchen area. Braeburn of course, started to follow his old stallion. He was clearly disappointed with the start of the morning. In his green eyes there was little enthusiasm. In his mind, he thought of how miserable he knew his day would already be. His head hung low as he made his way out of the kitchen. On his way out, however, he heard something that made his heart skip with hope.
"Wait, Braeburn!" Honeycrisp's voice came from behind him. Both Braeburn and his father turned around and met eyes with her.
"Yeah, sis?"
"Don't ya need bits for your train ticket?"
"Oh, uhh... yeah. Ma?"
Apple Blossom, who'd completely forgotten about that major detail, nodded. She made her way over to the nearby counter and opened it up. In it was several paper clips, a checkbook, some paper, some stray bits, and a small bag of bits in the center. The mare picked it up with her teeth and tossed it to her son, who went in to catch it with his hooves. When it landed however, the little sac fumbled and fell to the ground. Braeburn blushed and chuckled at his mistake, and quickly picked up the sac of bits with his teeth. After that, his father instantly went back to getting outside. Braeburn followed behind, still unsure of why exactly he agreed to such a task.
"Umm... Pa?" he started as they made their way into the living room. "Where exactly am I s'posed to be deliverin' this to, anyway? Canterlot's a big city."
"Well, when your cus'n came to give me the news of the order, he told me the gentlecolt would be in the theater near the entrance a' the town. Ya know where that is, right?"
"Yeah..." Before they could leave the house, Braeburn removed his cowpony hat from the hatrack. It was very special to him, and was a light shade of brown with a darker stripe in the middle. He placed the sac of bits on his head, then secured them with his hat on top of that. He'd finally started to wake up a bit, even without being able to brush his mane, teeth, or eat breakfast. It seemed to be like that everyday; he'd awake not to a long process of preparing for the day, but to a cruel world full of responsibilities.
"It shouldn't take too long to run up there an' back. Your trip should take maybe two hours at the most." the stallion told his son as the exited the house.
"Two hours?!" Braeburn muttered incoherently under his breath. If there was some possible way to back down without getting yelled at by everypony, he would.
"Oh, don't get all grumbly now. You didn't have to do nothin' when we were actually bakin'. The least you can do is deliver the order."
"Ah am... Jus' tired."
"Well, maybe if you'd wake up earlier, ya wouldn't be."
Braeburn didn't waste his time replying to that comment. He knew it'd only start an argument. He just didn't understand why his father could be so critical. It wasn't something the teenager ever discussed with anypony.
At the two ponies went to the side of the house, the older stallion detached himself from the harness, letting it fall to the ground. He took in a deep breath and smiled at his son.
"Mah old bones aren't as strong as they used to be. Been gettin' a lot harder to carry things lately." He smiled. "Wish I was young as you, Brae. Ya don't know how lucky you are."
"Uh, thanks Pa," he replied hesitantly.
"No problem..." The stallion wiped his forehead of sweat. "Why don't ya take the cart and get goin'. Wouldn't want to miss your train an' have to wait an hour."
"Alright..." With a sigh, the young pony got under the harness of the wagon and lifted it up. He briefly adjusted his position before tossing his dad a smile. "Well, I suppose Ah should get goin'. Don't wanna be late or nothing."
The orange stallion nodded his head in approval, which was Braeburn's cue to get going. With a sigh and hunger for sleep, the young teen ventured into the forrest of apple trees, starting his long journey to Canterlot.
As Braeburn had expected, Filly Delphia's train station was flooded with busy ponies. On the medium sized platform held nearly sixty busy mares and stallions on their way to the grand city of Canterlot. The young pony with a mission arrived with very little time to do much. The large clock above the train station read nine fifty. Had he stopped for an apple to eat or quick restroom break, he may not have made it on time. Yet there, near the edge of the train stop, the young pony lugged the cart up a few steps and onto the wooden floorboards of the train stop. Exhausted from his long walk, the pony trotted up to the ticked booth, where one pony was already in line. He placed himself behind her, wiping a few bullets of sweat from his damp forehead.
Man, what a trot! I didn't even think I'd make it on time!
The young pony took in a few breaths as he regained a normal heartbeat. His mane was matted in perspiration from the long walk, and his legs and chest were aching from carrying nearly twenty pounds of weight behind him. At least he'd gained a significant amount of energy with his long trot.
Oh, sweet Celestia! I need a good drink of water before I leave this place... Maybe even pee if I get the chance. But where would I leave my cart? Somepony might try to come along and steal it... Whatever. I can just wait.
After a short moment of thinking and being in line, the pony before him got her ticket and trotted off into the crowd. He moved a few paces forward. The mare at the stand greeted Braeburn with a smile, which caused him to smile back.
"May I help you, sir?" she asked in a very polite tone.
"Uh, yes. Can Ah get a ticket for the nex' train to Canterlot?"
"Sure thing..." The mare opened the cash register before her and punched a couple buttons in. "Let's see... That'll be twenty bits."
Braeburn lifted his hat off his head, only to reveal a small pouch of coins. He took those off his head as well, before tossing them onto the counter before him. The mare took the sweaty sac in her hooves and poured the coins out onto the smooth counter before her. She counted them with her hoof and smiled at the exact amount. She swept the coins into the register with a smile retrieved a ticket on the counter before her. The one she got was the color purple, and had a series of numbers and letters on it. She slid it over to Braeburn, who took it into his teeth with a smile.
"Thank you, sir. Have a nice day,"
"You oo," Braeburn replied, muffled by the ticket in his mouth.
The young teenager made his way from the ticket vender and to the larger crowd of busy ponies. Silently, he sat there, awaiting his train's arrival. The bustling ponies moved all around, creating quite the ugly sound. The noise, however, was enough to overshadow the young pony. He took advantage of opportunity and started talking to himself, quiet enough to not be heard. The colt spat the ticket out and instantly started ranting.
"Tain't fair... Ma and Pa treat me like Ah'm not good 'nough to work in the kitchen. They always act like I'm weak or somethin'. Like, everypony in my house thinks I'm the weakest 'cause I bring in the least amount of stuff and whatnot. Why don't they give me a break. I mean, was e'rypony else doin' better when they were my age? What if I really am weaker then them, though? That'd be sorta sad..." Braeburn though for a moment. "Also, I mean, they could just need me to do this 'cause they're too tired, but Ah don't know... What if they're jus' tryin' to get rid a' me for a bit. I just feel like they could be, considerin' Ma was pretty upset with me yesterday. She prob'ly told Pa about it... It's not like he doesn't already have enough of a reason to think I'm clumsy or stupid..." The colt took in a deep breath. "Whatever... maybe when I'm older Ah'll be able to impress 'em..."
It was then, Braeburn heard the faint sound of a train in the background his ears perked up at the noise, and he looked to the West, only to see what he suspected; a train not too far away pulling up to the station. The young pony adjusted his hat and stood up, ready to board. The train started to slow down as it came closer to its destination. As came to a complete stop, it hissed angrily and let out gallons of white steam from its wheels. The long train hesitated a short moment before opening its side doors, reveling a few hoof-fulls of ponies that were waiting to get out. The ones ready to go in the train waiting a moment for the others to clear out. Before anypony made a move towards the train, the conductor stepped out. He put his grey hoof to his mouth and shouted for everypony to hear him.
"All aboard to Canterlot, Ponyvily, then Dodge Junction!"
With that, a large frenzy of ponies made their way onto the train. Braeburn followed the crowd. As the individuals hopped onto the train, each handed the conductor their tickets and were allowed on. The young pony ended up somewhere in the middle of the line; not too far back, but not in the front either. He was a bit impatient to hop aboard and find a seat, which caused him to tap his hoof into the wood beneath him. Thankfully, the line moved quickly, and within a minute, he was at the front. The little stallion near the entrance of the train wore a smile on his face. Braeburn handed him his ticket and was allowed aboard. The moment he entered the train, he was stroked by the gentle touch of cool air. He let out a long, happy sigh and took a moment to appreciate the coolness. After a moment of absorbing it, he moved along, turning right and going into the deeper sections of the train. There were quite a few ponies moving about, but he did see a couple available seats in the back. He made his way through there, careful not to bump anypony with his cart. The velvet flooring felt like heaven against his hooves as he walked. When he got to the back, he detached himself from his harness and took a seat in the farthest place available. It felt amazing to finally have all that weight lifted from him. The colt let out a long sigh as he let himself relax, taking in the beautiful atmosphere.
Man, this is the life... Braeburn took his hat off, welcoming the cool air against his mane. Even still, he was sure to keep his hooves on the cart so it didn't roll away. That air feels so nice... Oh, Celestia! Braeburn brought his free hoof up to his droopy bangs and pushed them back. Wonder if I can get any water on this thing... I'll have to ask in a bit.
For the longest minute, the colt simply relished in the cool air, not wanting to part from it for one second. His body relaxed, and his sore muscles soon started to heal. His tongue draped out. Never before had he felt so much bliss at one time. It felt like resting on cloud.
"Alright." the conductor stepped on the train after it seemed like everypony had gotten on. His loud voice echoed through the train. "We should be arriving in Canterlot in approximately forty-five minutes. Please remain seated for the entire ride, and keep all possessions with you at all times. Please relax, and enjoy your ride."
Ah, Canterlot; the most beautiful city in all of Equestria. The capital city was flourishing with ravishing buildings and noteworthy landmarks. The ponies there were only of highest society, one of them being Princess Celestia herself. Every last detail was flawless; from the food, to the art, to the citizens themselves. Only the most amazing events were held in Canterlot, and only the top actors, artists, and musicians had the slightest chance of being showcased there. Any pony with a hint of class would dream of one day living in such a place...
Braeburn, however, was not one of those ponies. He was on a mission. The moment he entered the gorgeous city, he trotted as fast as he could to the area ponies would direct him when he asked about the theater. He ignored every perfect detail, only focused on what had brought him there to begin with; the wagon attached to his body the entire time he was there. The theater, he found difficult to locate. Everypony either responded with an odd set of directions he couldn't follow, or the question "Which theater?". It was all rather confusing, and had him circling the city for what felt like hours on end. After only forty minutes of being there, however, he finally located his desired location; the theater.
Royal Canterlot Theater was only the most pristine, well-known theater in all of Equestria. It held the finest performances, and had one of the most gorgeous insides one could imagine. In reality, it was much more like an opera house than anything, but most citizens didn't call it by that name. The building was two stories in height, and was even beautiful on the outside. It was painted a beautiful shade of white, and had a large, round roof on the top. Its windows were all stain-glass, and depicted beautiful patterns of red, purple, and gold. Just standing outside the building was magical, and Braeburn had then experienced the true beauty of the actual thing. He gave a whistle of admiration as his eyes locked on to well-designed building.
"Wow... These fancy folk really know how to make things."
With a smile, the young colt made his way into the theater. The front doors themselves were a few meters in height, and a bit difficult to open. He managed, however, and walked on into the inside.
The moment Braeburn entered the theater, the cool AC brushed against his warm fur. The soft carpet below felt like a thousand little blankets reaching up to greet his hooves. The light scent of vanilla filled the room, and caused the teenager to take in a long whiff.
It even smells good...
The inside of the place was as large as it looked on the outside. In the corner, there were several ticket booths, along with a costumer service desk next to them. On the far left and right, there were theaters, both able to seat hundreds. Right before Braeburn, there was a large, golden staircase that lead up to a second floor, which he assumed had more theaters in them. It was really all fancy, and far brighter than he ever imagined.
Trying to brush off the beauty of the place, the colt wandered towards the costumer service desk, which had a mare in swivel chair sitting lazily, reading a fashion magazine. The wheels of the wagon hardly made a sound as they headed towards the far corner of the room. The mare hardly even noticed it when the young colt approached her. She only noticed the moment he made it to the desk and cleared his throat to get her attention.
"''Scuse me, miss," he started a bit shyly, almost intimidated by the fancy culture. The mare gazed up at him, little enthusiasm sparkling in her pink eyes.
"Can I help you?" she asked in a bored tone.
"Well, yes. Ah was jus' here to drop off an order. You wouldn't happen to know who I should bring this to, would ya?"
The unicorn let out a long, unhappy sigh. Lazily, she brought her left hoof up and pointed towards the theater.
"He's should be in there..."
"Uh, thank ya, miss."
With a smile and a tip of his hat, the country pony made his way from the counter to the closest theater. He was thankful that he'd finally be able to get rid of the hefty cart and find his way back home. The thought made him very enthusiastic, but he didn't pick up the pace. The soft carpet and cool air was too nice to disregard of in such little time. Maybe slowing down wasn't too bad of an option.
As the colt wandered down the hall, he started to hear the faint sound of classical music playing. The closer he got to the door, the louder it became. His curiosity struck him, and he sped up the pace, chasing the flow of melodies from the other room. When he at long last got to the doors and entered the room, the music became crystal clear. The sound of a grand orchestra rehearsing echoed throughout the room. Breaburn started to wonder if that was really the right place. He of course, didn't want to interrupt, but at the same time couldn't help but stay to make sure he was in the right room. He waited patiently, hoping the orchestra would cut off.
Not really sure as to what to do, Braeburn detached himself from the cart and decided to watch a bit. That wasn't something that'd cause much harm. The orchestra seemed to be a chaotic mess of melodies and harmonies at the time, creating a large, mind-twisting sound of polyphonic texture. Every instrument seemed to be playing a different part, yet it all sounded as though it fit together. The strings were moving fast and firey, much like a phenix. Braeburn couldn't exactly tell what speed the woodwinds and other instruments were just by looking at them, but he could hear them doing a wide variety of things. He wasn't quite sure if he enjoyed the crazy mix of melodies. Classical music was never his favorite, but he had to admit it was rather complex.
As the orchestra went in to what seemed like the climx of the piece, the stallion conducting the orchestra cut them off in a flash of his baton. The music almost instantly stopped, but vibrations still lingered around the theater. The entire ensemble gazed up at their maestro as he gave instructions.
"All right you guys... At L, we need to hear more of the woodwinds. Bassoon and flute have the melody... Strings need to be softer." The stallion turned a page of his score. "At O, I want the crescendoes and decrescendoes to be more emphasized; softs need to be softer, louds need to be louder." The conductor flipped his page back and raised his baton. "From N."
Oh no! They're 'bout to start again! Come on, Braeburn, this might be your only chance to speak for a few more minutes!
"'Scuse me!" the young pony called from the back of the theater. His voice echoed off the walls and grabbed the attention of the orchestra. He blushed a bit, feeling rude for the interruption. "Did ya'll order any apple goods?"
For a moment, the conductor hesitated. He wasn't quite sure how to respond to the young farm pony. Unsurely, he turned to the orchestra, who all looked equally dazed. He looked back at Braeburn, and then back to his ensemble.
"Break!" he announced with the drop of his baton. All lowered their instruments, glad to finally have a short rest. The maestro of the orchestra hopped off the stage and trotted up the isles. Braeburn removed himself from the seat he chose and met the conductor half-way down the isle. He was an older stallion, and looked the part of a conductor. He had a slicked back, black mane and wore a little, elegant tuxedo. He also had a big pair of chunky glasses that sat awkwardly before his bright pink eyes.
"Now, uh, young stallion, what was it you wanted to ask me?"
"The, uhh... Pony at the front desk said ya'll ordered what Ah brought. It's basically jus' a cart of apples and apple treats and stuff." When Braeburn explained that, the cunductor's eyes lit up.
"Oh, right!" he chuckled. "You see, my orchestra and I are rehearsing nearly all day, so I thought I'd get them something to calm their appetites when they got hungry. Most of the stuff here in Canterlot's a bit expensive, so I wanted something a bit more affordable."
"That's fine. The cart's in the back with all the stuff in it."
"Oh, good!" the stallion smiled proudly. "Now, what do I owe you for this?"
"Uhh.... Ah don't know..." It was then, Braeburn realized he'd forgotten to ask his mother what the payment should be. "We usually charge 'round fifty bits for a full cart of stuff."
"Well, that's not too bad..." The pony put his hoof in the front pocket of his tux and searched for a moment. Upon not feeling a single bit, he took a moment to think. "Do you think you could take your payment in gems? I'm sure there's some bank that'll exchange them for bits if you'd prefer that."
"Oh, uhh... Sure thing."
"Great!" the pony pulled a large, red gem from his front pocket. It was sparkly like a shimmering sunbeam, and caught Braeburn's attention almost immediately. "Will this do?"
"Definitely!" Braeburn agreed hastily. The musician handed over the gem as if it were nothing, shocking the farm pony on a new level. "Gosh..." he muttered under his breath, gazing at his reflection. After a moment, he quickly placed the gem under his hat to conceal it.
"Oh, it's nothing really..." the conductor thought for a moment. "Hey. If you'd like, I could get you a free ticket to tonight's concert. My own daughter, Octavia, will be performing a cello concerto this evening. It really is magnificent. You should come if you have the time..."
"Oh, I, uhh... I don't think Ah can. My family's pretty busy most the day. Ah jus' don't have the time, is all."
"No problem. I suppose classical's not really something you're into anyway." He chuckled. "Now, why don't you go on about your business? I have quite a bit more to do."
"Alright." Braeburn turned around and headed for the exit. "Thank you so much, sir!"
The conductor simply nodded, while young teenager made his way out of the theater, and back onto the busy streets of Canterlot.
Braeburn let out a happy sigh as he sat down on the comfortable seating of the train. His body was fully relaxed, and his hooves felt like they'd just received a massage after his walk there. The cool air was wonderful, and the seats were soft. He rested his head on the soft pillow-like seat behind him. He felt like napping after his long day. Maybe it'd restore him from all work he'd done. The thought didn't seem too out there, and the train was comfortable enough to do so. On the half-empty train, Braeburn finally decided to give in to his desire. He tilted his head back, and allowed his eyelids to fall. The last words he heard were those of the conductor's.
"Alrighty folks. Since this train is going up, we'll be hitting by Filly Delphia next, then make our round trip back down to Canterlot, Ponyvilly, and Dodge Junction. We will be arriving in Filly Delphia in approximately forty-five minutes. Please enjoy your ride, and keep all belongings to yourself. Thank you."
