Primum Non Nocere: The Secret of the Mad Mare's Precognition

Primum Non Nocere: The Secret of the Mad Mare's Precognition

Part 5: Follow the Sound

Pinkamena woke up to an isolated feeling. She shivered and, opening her eyes, found Ms. Sunblossom at the edge of the bed, easing herself down in a fashion that looked laborious and unnecessary. Pinkamena hopped to her feet.

“Wai-” It was too late. Ms. Sunblossom was already picking up her cart and propping her bandaged leg onto it.

“I’m sorry Pinkie,” Ms. Sunblossom said. “I didn’t want to wake you.” She still looked horribly tired. Even after her rest the weary lines and disheveled look of her fur lingered. Pinkamena didn’t like the thought that they might never go away, but she assured herself that as soon as she was gone, Ms. Sunblossom would get better. Pinkamena was weighing her caretaker down and she knew it. Even more than the death of Archer, the thing that was plaguing Ms. Sunblossom the most was her. Pinkamena sunk back down to the bed, feeling like a parasite, selfishly draining the love from a mare who had other children to take care of.

“Well now that you’re awake, you may as well come along,” Ms. Sunblossom said. “The Pies are early risers. They’ve probably been up for a bit already.” Pinkamena looked to the window at the foot of Ms. Sunblossom’s bed. It was only just beginning to get brighter, the dawn light barely able to seep its way through the thick layer of curtains.

“Come on,” Ms. Sunblossom urged her, opening the door. Pinkamena looked to her and back to the window. Lifting her hoof, she hesitated before turning back to Ms. Sunblossom whose welcoming expression remained unchanged. But just what was she welcoming her to? The mare seemed much calmer, and more at peace than the night before. If there was some kind of resolution Ms. Sunblossom had come across while they had been asleep, Pinkamena hadn’t shared the experience. Even getting up from the covers seemed like a detachment, a letting go that every subsequent step she took would hold until everything around was gone. It had seemed like only an idea the night before, something only the future held. But now it was here and she had to take every step no matter how unwilling she was and with or without the knowledge of where it would take her. Pinkamena had no idea what a rock farm was like, but even the idea sounded bleak. Normally fillies met their parents—several times—before they were even taken to visit a home, much less adopted.

But Pinkamena understood in what little way she could the gravity of what she had done and why she couldn’t stay. Even if Ms. Sunblossom hadn’t told her everything, she knew enough and if she cared enough to say that she loved the mare the way a daughter loves her mother, then she figured she should also be able to trust her as well.

Pinkamena hopped lightly down from the bed, making her way noiselessly to Ms. Sunblossom’s side. As they exited the room, Pinkamena looked back, catching a glimpse of all the pictures covering the walls and the imprint they had left on the sheets where they had slept. And then a wooden slab, closed it off. Pinkamena blinked, staring at the door for a few moments and lingering next to it as Ms. Sunblossom began scooting her way down the hall with her cart. That was the last she would see of that room, its walls, its families, its occupant. Raising a hoof, she pressed it to the door and might have been inclined to open it, if the knob wasn’t so far above her head.

“Pinkie?” Ms. Sunblossom had stopped and half turned in the hall, realizing that the filly that had been next to her had stopped following. Pinkamena took her hoof off the door and let it fall, turning to Ms. Sunblossom like she had done something wrong, wishing she could go back. Saying nothing in reply, Pinkamena hung her head and followed along again, this time staying as close to Ms. Sunblossom as she could the way she had done in the past. In a way, she was glad, perhaps not happy, but glad that it was Ms. Sunblossom’s leg that she had chosen to injure as it made their trek to the front room slow and cherishable. Had Ms. Sunblossom been fully able, their walk would have been short and before Pinkamena would’ve had time to realize where they were going or to let the fact that this was the last time she would walk with Ms. Sunblossom sink in, it would have been over and she would be sitting in a foyer waiting to be handed over like a criminal to the jail warden. It was what it felt like—a walk of shame—the empty lanterns along the walls meant to be her spectators, staring down at her and reminding her why she had to leave. She imagined them writing it on the wall: you have no one to blame.

They arrived in the front room, an organized clutter waiting to be rearranged as soon as the other fillies woke up and found their favorite toys. There was no pony there though, and Pinkamena wondered for a moment if they were really going to meet the Pies. She looked up at Ms. Sunblossom, the mare’s gaze resolutely on her destination. She had said nothing for the entire walk. It was better that way. Pinkamena wasn’t sure what she might have said had Ms. Sunblossom asked her anything or if there was even anything left to ask. Everything had already been decided.

Ms. Sunblossom pushed the front door open before Pinkamena could offer to help and both of them were met with a brisk morning breeze and faint light from a sun just peeking over the horizon that reflected off the dew on the grass. Half silhouetted by it in front of them was the Pie family, Igneous loading things into a covered wagon, his wife fiddling with something at the front, and Nurse Redheart doing her best to get Marble and Limestone to keep their hooves to themselves. As Pinkamena and Ms. Sunblossom stepped outside, the twins were the first to notice and turning from pulling on Nurse Redheart’s legs, they looked like they wanted to greet them, but restrained themselves as soon as their father turned his head. He trudged over and Pinkamena’s body shivered, the dew cold on her hooves and the wind providing nothing other than Ms. Sunblossom for warmth. Igneous seemed to tower over her, looking down at her with the emotion of a stone. Was this what rock farmers were like? Pinkamena felt intimidated until the stallion’s wife came over, her daughters peeking out from behind her.

“Hey there,” the twin’s mother leaned in. “Pinkamena Diane, right?” There was something motherly and kind in her demeanor. But the mare didn’t smile, so her question came across as rather frank.

“Mmhm…” Pinkamena bit down. “Hi…mom…” She said the last word almost inaudibly because she knew no matter how she tried to call this near stranger mom, it would sound forced and feel awkward.

“Hey,” Marble poked her head forward. “I told you she was the pony from earlier.” The filly looked to her sister and, apparently disproved in some way, Limestone frowned.

“She seems like a darling,” Their mother said, looking to Ms. Sunblossom.

“She is,” Ms. Sunblossom said, a misty nostalgia in her voice. Pinkamena turned her head to Ms. Sunblossom. Maybe she was being too sensitive, but it seemed like Ms. Sunblossom was giving her up to easily. Yet, as Pinkamena kept reminding herself, Ms. Sunblossom had already decided that what she was doing was necessary and for Pinkamena’s own good. She had only good intentions.

“We’ll take care of her,” Igneous assured Ms. Sunblossom. He seemed rather blunt, but from what Pinkamena had seen so far, her soon to be father was always blunt, taking no time for small talk and saying only what was necessary.

“Thank you for doing this on such short notice,” Ms. Sunblossom said. “I know you’ve been looking to adopt for awhile, but I’m sorry you couldn’t get to know her better first.”

“Marble and Limestone got along with her well enough,” a voice chimed in. It was the nurse standing apart from them next to the wagon. “I mean…” She glanced away as everyone turned to her. “I wouldn’t worry…too much,” She smiled uneasily and the twin’s mother turned to them raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t worry mom,” Limestone said. “She’s doesn’t say much. She’s a lot like Maud.” Pinkamena returned her gaze to the family only to find Igneous glaring down at her. Perhaps it wasn’t glare, but to somepony who wasn’t used to the stallion’s demeanor—to Pinkamena—it felt like a glare. She felt like she was being judged, sized up, and given a ranking of some kind. Did he know? How much had Ms. Sunblossom told them, Pinkamena wondered? The truth? Was Igneous glaring at her as a warning, should she try anything against his own daughters? She pressed herself to Ms. Sunblossom and after a few moments Igneous raised his hoof. Pinkamena clamped her eyes shut, feeling like he might strike her or that he was reaching for her to get a better look at her face, to examine it somehow. She felt him firmly place his hoof on her head, and ruffle her mane. Pinkamena opened her eyes, realizing how tense she had been as she felt her muscles loosen. She looked up at the stallion as he put his hoof down, still looking back at her with the same expression.

“Let’s go,” He said to the others, and Pinkamena’s eyes followed him as he turned and headed back to the wagon. Pinkamena was stunned enough that she had forgotten for the moment that Ms. Sunblossom was beside her and was jarred from a strange kind of reverie when her caretaker gave her a nudge forward. Being suddenly separated from Ms. Sunblossom, Pinkamena felt an immediate chill, the breeze biting at her side that had previously been sheltered. She took a step and turned to Ms. Sunblossom, looking for something, perhaps answer, but unsure what she wanted an answer to.

“Go,” Ms. Sunblossom said doing her best to stop herself from shaking. Before Pinkamena could answer, the door behind them opened and she caught sight of Walter, saddlebags over his back, something hung around his neck and two colts trailing behind him. Pinkamena recognized them as they made their way over. They were Archer’s two friends, colored splotches in their fur like they had been painting, one of them carrying a small rock in his mouth.

“Emese,” Walter called as he approached. The Pies stopped as well, watching on at the apparent hold up.

“Walter?” Ms. Sunblossom said as he walked around to her so she didn’t have to turn. “What are you doing here?”

“Well,” He lifted the object around his neck off by it’s strap and held it out to her. It was a camera. “You always take pictures of all the adoptions, so I figured you’d want this.” Ms. Sunblossom accepted the item with her good hoof, hanging it around her own neck.

“Right…” Ms. Sunblossom said. “I almost forgot.”

“I couldn’t ignore these two either,” Walter gestured to the two colts standing next to him, waiting eagerly, looking ragged and messy, to give Ms. Sunblossom what the first colt had in his mouth. Ms. Sunblossom held out her hoof and the colt stepped forward and placed it there, clicking his tongue to get the taste out of his mouth. Lifting it up, Ms. Sunblossom turned the rock taking in a sharp breath and biting her lip. Pinkamena saw what it was and felt it was only one more thing to add to her guilty list for reasons Ms. Sunblossom had to cry. The ordinary gray stone was emblazoned with Archer’s cutie mark in surprisingly neat strokes of paint. The baseball and the bat were both there and the colts had even taken to the painstaking task of adding the tiniest of red stitches to the baseball. Pinkamena wondered how much help they had or if they had done this all on their own. She couldn’t doubt that it had been their idea and wished that they might have decided to show up after she had gone. The sight of such an earnest display of affection for the colt she killed made her chest ache. Pinkamena couldn’t look at them even knowing that Ms. Sunblossom hadn’t told the colt’s that she was the one who had killed their friend. Instead, she turned her attention to Walter and he looked to her, his job of delivering the camera and the colts finished.

“Hey kiddo,” He said, catching her eye. “Sorry I couldn’t tell you about this sooner.” Pinkamena said nothing, but approached the stallion, placing her forehead to his right leg and wrapping her front hooves around it. Walter instinctively tried to step back, but stopped because the filly had a hold on his leg.

“I don’t deserve that,” He said. “I’m just the cook.” Pinkamena thought of telling Walter that he was her favorite cook then, but it seemed cheesy, a childish thing to say. Rather than that, she simply held on until he said otherwise.

“Here,” He said. “I baked you something.” Walter retrieved a small white, cubical box from his saddlebag and placed it on the ground beside her. Pinkamena still didn’t let go of him, but looked up wanting a real goodbye out of him.

“It’s a cupcake,” Walter told her. “They’re today’s dessert, so I figured you should have one.”

“Walter?” Pinkamena asked.

“Yes?”

“Will you keep making ponies laugh after I leave?”

“Wh-I guess I’ll do my best. Not sure I was all that-”

“You were great,” Pinkamena stopped him. It felt rude, but good at the same time, knowing that she was somehow reassuring Walter, however good or poor her reassurance might be, was rewarding. She let go and, wrapping her tail around the box, lifted it up to carry it. Walter was unsure what to say for a moment, taken off both by her words and by her strange actions.

“Heh, Well don’t eat that all at once then filly,” Walter smiled. For Pinkamena, this was a victory, however small. It filled her with an indescribable joy to know she made Walter smile, a pony that had been one of the few to get her to do the same. Yet she showed none of it. Perhaps she was more like the Pies than she thought.

“Excuse me,” Ms. Sunblossom called to the Pies. “Can I get all of you back here for one picture?” They obliged without complaint, the twins more eager about the prospect than Pinkamena though they might be. Pinkamena herself wasn’t very enthusiastic about having her picture taken and she doubted she could smile even for a camera. But the Pies gathered together in front of Ms. Sunblossom and the mare directed them, putting the fillies between their parents and placing Pinkamena in the center of all of them, just like the rest of pictures on Ms. Sunblossom’s wall. The twins settled on either side of Pinkamena when their father gave them a stern glance after they had toyed around, placing themselves both on top and underneath Pinkamena climbing over her and experimenting with where they wanted to be. They ended up to her right and left, one of each of their hooves placed around Pinkamena’s, cordial and sister-like. Pinkamena knew none of them were smiling. She could count on Igneous at least for that and looking to Marble and Limestone the most they managed was a slight upturned mouth. None of them showed their teeth. Staring ahead at the lens, Pinkamena did her best to at least not look sad or depressed, but she didn’t smile either, it might have broken the mood. At least that was the excuse she gave herself. The camera flashed and after a few seconds the photo came reeling with a squeak out the front slot.

“Sorry,” Ms. Sunblossom said, taking out the picture, giving it a wave, and handing it to Walter. He took it and put it in his saddlebag. “I take pictures of all the fillies when they’re adopted.”

“It’s no problem,” Their mother assured her. The Pies had separated relatively quickly after the photo with the exception of Marble and Limestone who held onto Pinkamena and tugged at her, beckoning their new sister to come along with them. But there was one last thing that Pinkamena had to do. She shrugged them off and trotted up to Ms. Sunblossom as Walter took the camera back and hung it around his neck. Pinkamena and Ms. Sunblossom looked at each other for several moments both not really knowing what they were supposed to say or what type of goodbye would really be enough. There wasn’t one that would be satisfying, Pinkamena sensed it as soon as she stopped in front of the mare and her eyes got watery.

“Maybe I’ll see you someday,” Ms. Sunblossom wiped her eyes. “When you’re grown up.” Pinkamena leapt forward and gave Ms. Sunblossom the firmest hug she could without hurting her, burying her nose in the fur on the mare’s neck.

“I love you Ms Sunblossom,” Pinkamena said.

“I’ll miss you Pinkie…” Ms. Sunblossom sighed, returning the embrace with her one good leg. Pinkamena had expected for her word to be unreturned this time, so she held the embrace as long as she could, but before long Ms. Sunblossom let go, placing a hoof to one of Pinkamena’s signaling for her to do the same. Lowering herself back to the grass, Pinkamena stepped back and looked at Walter. He nodded and she nodded back. She looked at Archer’s two friends, the colts huddled close to each other staring sadly down at the rock Ms. Sunblossom had placed next to her. There was nothing she could have said to them. After all, why should she say goodbye to ponies she had never really said hello to. Turning back to Ms. Sunblossom, she found the mare actually smiling at her. There was a finality in that smile and a release, the last thing Pinkamena needed to see before she could have been anywhere close to letting the orphanage and all her friends go. She managed a small smile in return, knowing that if her final efforts had brought a smile to Ms. Sunblossom’s face, then there was nothing more she could ask for.

Ms. Sunblossom leaned in and gave Pinkamena one last kiss on her forehead. Before the mare could take her head away though, Pinkamena grabbed Ms. Sunblossom by the cheeks, pulled herself up, and returned Ms. Sunblossom’s gesture. The mare stood for a moment, looking rather torn.

Without warning, Ms. Sunblossom’s cart toppled over and she collapsed at Pinkamena’s feet, embracing the filly with both her good and bad hoof.

“Emese!” Walter panicked. Pinkamena fumbled with her hooves, wanting to help Ms. Sunblossom up, but stood still, feeling Ms. Sunblossom’s weight on her and not wanting the mare to fall. Ms. Sunblossom raised a hoof as Walter came up, signaling she was okay. He backed away with a concerned expression reaching for her cart instead.

“Ms. Sunblossom?” Pinkamena inquired.

“I’m sorry again, Pinkamena,” Ms. Sunblossom answered. “I’ve been hiding. I…I love you too.” No, Pinkamena thought, not now. But this was what she wanted; those were the words that she had wanted to hear. She wanted to know that after everything, that even though she had to go, that Pinkamena’s torn feelings weren’t unrequited. But not now, not in front of everypony. She bawled. It was like she was an infant again, crying in her mother’s arms. She didn’t regret it. But what did her new family think. This was the first thing her new sisters had really seen her do. Would they think less of her?

“Pinkamena, stop,” Ms. Sunblossom laid in the grass and lifted Pinkamena’s head from her shoulder, wiping the tears off the filly’s face.

“Thanks…” Pinkamena sniffled.

“There’s one last thing I need you to do.” Pinkamena nodded. Anything, she thought. Tell me to be your daughter, and I’ll do it in a heartbeat. “Pass that message to the other girl.”

“Huh?” Pinkamena tilted her head. Other girl? Did she mean her sisters? But there were two of them…

“Tell her I forgive her and maybe…” Ms. Sunblossom paused. “Maybe she can forgive me too. I’m sorry I was afraid of her.”

“What do you mean?” Pinkamena asked. “Who are you talking about?”

“You’ll know what I mean,” Ms. Sunblossom told her. “It’s something only you can do. Do you trust me?” Pinkamena nodded. Of course she did, and she vowed that she would do it no matter how long it took her to figure it out. She had to.

“Alright. Time to go.” Ms. Sunblossom went to stand and Walter was quick to bring her cart forward as Pinkamena gave the mare’s bad leg a boost up with her tail. “Thank you both…” Ms. Sunblossom said and smiled. Pinkamena smiled back at her, and Leaving the mare no time to react, she turned and scampered away, trotting up to the twins next to Nurse Redheart

“Come on,” their mother walked up next to them and nudged them onward. “Up you go.” The twins hopped up into the covered cart and Nurse Redheart offered Pinkamena a boost. She climbed onto the nurse’s back as the mare lifted her up and Pinkamena wiggled the rest of her way up into the wagon. Their mother headed around to the front and looking through the wagon, Pinkamena watched her help her husband latch and saddle up to the front of the cart. When she came back around, she jumped into the back of the wagon along with the rest of them, sitting on the small wooden platforms on the sides that passed for benches.

“Ready?” She asked, looking at Pinkamena. Pinkamena nodded. The wagon jerked into motion and with that singular jolt the idea of leaving seemed to finally fall over her. Pinkamena sat at the back mouth of the wagon, her friends waving after her as Igneous started it on its way. She waved back and it hit her that she recognized this image. She had seen it before, the rock with the mark on it next to Ms. Sunblossom as she faded away, shrinking smaller and smaller. Pinkamena didn’t cry after her, nor did Ms. Sunblossom call out to Pinkamena. But Pinkamena didn’t stop waving until they were dots on the horizon, the orphanage gradually dissolving into the plains. And that was it. Pinkamena wouldn’t see Ms. Sunblossom for a long while, if ever. She put her hoof down and heard a bell ring. The loud iron clang resonated through the air as crisply as the morning breeze. And without an echo, it subsided. Pinkamena turned to the others. They either hadn’t heard it or paid no attention to it. There weren’t any bells at the orphanage and no towns, certainly not any close enough, for the chime to ring out so clearly. Yet it rang only once. It was as if the air were giving a signal. This is it, it said, now your life will never be the same. Pinkamena stood and listened for it again, but there was nothing. She shrugged. She couldn’t control the bell, wherever it was, or the pony, whoever they were, who rang it, so she turned back into the wagon to take her seat.

“So what?” A voice said. “You’re just going to resign yourself to your fate?” Pinkamena stopped, looking to her right to find her double again, upset as ever, always dissatisfied with what she was doing.

“You could have had her you know!” It yelled at her. “You could have chosen any future you wanted, but you threw them away. If you want Ms. Sunblossom so much go take her and don’t let anyone take you away from her. She’s yours! I don’t need her! Stand up for yourself you weakling!” Pinkamena turned away from it and hopped up onto a seat on the opposite side of the wagon as her new mother and Nurse Redheart.

“That’s not how it works,” She whispered, but when she looked back to the mouth of the wagon, the figure was gone.

_________________

Pinkamena spent far more time than she ever had traveling. It was the first time she had been in wagon like this or in a wagon at all and she was impressed that despite all the weight he must have been carrying, Igneous, her father, trudged stubbornly onward without rest. Pinkamena had no idea how far away their rock farm was or where Ponyville was in Equestria, but it was far more distance than she expected. When they had left the orphanage, the sun was just rising beginning to dissolve the cool dew off the grass into a light fuzzy mist. It was slow going, steadily bumpy at first, escalating as the day wore on from light bumps to the occasional jostle. The landscape was becoming more jagged the farther they went. Looking behind them, it was like leaving a haven, the green fields the orphanage had been on turning into gray terraces and rock formations. Pinkamena didn’t know what she expected when she heard the phrase ’rock farm’ but knew the shift was something she should have anticipated. Yet even if she had, it was nothing she could have prepared herself for. It was as if Ms. Sunblossom’s furthering absence was draining the landscape of its vitality, turning it to stone without her kindness to give it vibrance.

It didn’t help that the Pies weren’t much more vibrant than the landscape itself. The twins were the most animated of the group, but during the majority of the ride they didn’t have much room to move around. They occupied themselves with batting and tossing a glittery ruby back and forth, a gem that they had pulled out from under the benches. It was spherical, as if they had taken a normal ruby and balled it up like it were only a piece of paper. They giggled at intervals, seemingly at some inside joke known only to themselves, glancing to her to see if she understood it by chance or perhaps inquiring in their family’s wordless way if Pinkamena might like to join them. Pinkamena didn’t pick up their joke or their hints, so they turned back to each other, assuming her answer on both accounts was no.

Their mother, now hers as well she supposed, left the wagon every so often to walk alongside her husband and keep him company. Pinkamena talked little with them and it might have bothered her if the part of her mind that was responsible for worry was not occupied with the aches and pains that came every time she reminded herself that with every clock of the wagon’s wheels Ms. Sunblossom got farther and farther away.

“So,” Nurse Redheart spoke up to break the silence. “How is it being a Pie so far?”

“I don’t know…” Pinkamena replied. The question had seemed preemptive, asked far before Pinkamena even knew half of what her new family was like.

“Oh she just needs some time to adjust.” Her mother made her way from her seat across the wagon and sat down next to Pinkamena. “Right?”

“I still think Pinkamena Pie sounds funny,” One of the twins said.

“Limestone,” Their mother raised an eyebrow at her daughter who looked back with an earnest expression that stubbornly reasserted that that was the way the filly felt about her sister’s name. Maybe it was all the syllables, Pinkamena thought.

“Pinkie,” Pinkamena said to nopony in particular.

“Pinkie what?” Marble asked.

“Pie,” Pinkamena finished.

“It’s better I guess,” Marble said, turning back to Limestone and giving the ruby a shove across the way.

“Don’t worry,” Her mother gave Pinkamena a light squeeze. “I’m sure you’ll fit in.” She got up and headed to the wagon entrance.

“Isn’t that what Igneous said?” Nurse Redheart asked.

“Yes it is,” Her mother replied matter of factly and, hopping out, made her way around to accompany her husband again for awhile. That was the deepest their conversations went during their trek. Everything else was either one of the twins making a face at Pinkamena or Nurse Redheart doing her best to smile every time their eyes happened to meet, trying to look as reassuring as possible. By the time the grass had disappeared completely, it was evening and it gave the rocky ground and cliffs an orange tint on top of all the gray. Pinkamena was surprised at how well all of them went without food the entire time. She had brought out the cupcake Walter had given her midway through the ride, looking up at the sun high above them. At that time it had to have been around lunch, yet not once did even the twins whine, ask for food, or even hint that they were hungry.

Pinkamena was made acutely aware of her own hunger when Nurse Redheart dug into her saddlebags and brought out a sandwich lined with lettuce, hay, and tomatoes, apparently not as strong willed as the family she had chosen to ride along with. Pinkamena shared in her discomfort, opening the white box and peering in to have the pungent scent of sugary, flavored frosting hit her nose. She pulled back her face when she smelled it, her stomach grumbling audibly despite her attempts to stifle it. Pinkamena plopped the confection from its box and stared at it for a few moments, knowing it was the only thing she would have to eat until they arrived at their destination, wherever it was. All the while Nurse Redheart chewed away at her sandwich, happy to get some real food. Pinkamena nibbled at the fluffy cake at first, giving the frosting a lick. It was sweet and the cake itself was flaky yet pleasantly chewy. Eventually she took a whole bite, swallowing smoothly and with satisfaction feeling an immediately rush of alertness from all the sugar. She looked around the wagon first to Nurse Redheart and then to Marble and Limestone, expecting they might have been watching her for some reason. But the twins were busy, Marble half asleep, eyelids drooping and curled up next to the side of the wagon and Limestone continuing to play catch with herself, while Nurse Redheart sipped on boxed apple juice by a straw.

Pinkamena dug into the cake, eating it mouthful by mouthful feeling the sweetness begin to sting her tongue on the last bite. It wasn’t enough to fill her up, but was sufficient in staving off any hunger pains. Later, with the light waning, the wagon came abruptly to a stop.

Pinkamena stood up. Having half dozed off along with Marble, she hadn’t noticed any change in scenery since they had left the plains behind. As if by a switch, Marble and Limestone shot up as well, scurrying from the wagon and jumping enthusiastically down into the stone, stretching out their limbs and arching their backs to get the stiffness out of their joints. Pinkamena did the same, only at a much slower pace, more subdued, and not as happy as the twins to be where she was. This was their home, had been their home. To Pinkamena, it was still only a wasteland covered in nothing but quarries and dust, a silo next to an old windmill that separated it from a small farmhouse. The home, her new home, looked old, its thatched hay roof and stubborn wooden supports dry and sprinkled with gray. Perhaps it was only dusted with sediment like everything else. Pinkamena felt the wind brush through her mane, carrying tiny particles in it, no plants around to keep loose dirt from being carried away in the wind. When she hopped down from the wagon she sneezed, breathing in a cloud that kicked up in her face. Marble and Limestone were naturally unfazed and while the dust settled into obvious puffs on the tips of Pinkamena’s pink fur, on their stony pelts the stuff disappeared, barely noticeable. They were meant to be here it seemed and looking around her, Pinkamena was the only source of bright color. Even the leafless trees seemed to have been petrified, turned to rock because that’s what this place was, just rocks.

Igneous and her mother presently came around to the back of the wagon as Nurse Redheart was strapping on her saddlebags and preparing to exit. Igneous motioned for her to stay.

“That won’t be necessary,” He said. “I’ll take you the rest of the way to Ponyville.”

“What?” the nurse looked surprised. “But it’s getting dark and you’ve already gone so far. Are you sure? I can wait until morning.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s not very far,” he assured her and glancing at Pinkamena and his other two daughters who had apparently settled beside her, Igneous nodded. Marble and Limestone seemed to know what it meant, but Pinkamena was clueless. Perhaps he was only telling them to behave. Even more than Marble and Limestone as siblings, Pinkamena sensed that getting used to Igneous as a father was going to take a long time.

“Be safe dear,” Igneous’ wife told him as he headed back to the front of the wagon. The stallion tipped his hat and began hitching back up to the front of the cart. He would be fine just like he said. From what Pinkamena could see, the long walk had barely exhausted him or if it did, he showed nothing for it other than a stern will toward his task.

“Well,” Nurse Redheart slid her saddlebags off and sat back down. “I guess this is goodbye then. Enjoy your new family, Pinkie Pie.” she smiled at Pinkamena and Pinkamena nodded back. Of all the ponies, she thought, it was Nurse Redheart who had used her new name first. When it met her ears, she liked the sound of it and was glad to hear it, hoping silently that its use might occur to at least her siblings, who seemed to think Pinkamena Pie was clumsy.

The wagon jerked into motion again and Pinkamena waved back at Nurse Redheart along with her sisters as the mare was scuttled off to wherever Ponyville was. For a moment, she wondered what it was like. Ponyville sounded pleasant, but if it wasn’t very far, did it look just as bleak as where she stood, full of nothing but stone roads and silent houses?

“Come on girls,” Their mother said. The twins followed and Pinkamena did a double take, looking back at the wagon before realizing everypony was moving toward the house without her. She scampered after them, wincing a few times before she managed to catch up, stepping on a group of tiny jagged pebbles that dug into her hoof. It had her hobbling a little by the time they made it past the old rickety fence that surrounded the property that the house stood on. Everything else was fields and they hurt to walk on. The list of things that made her feel like an outsider here was quickly growing. Pinkamena became self conscious of her walk, yet as the others walked flat hoofed she knew that they either knew where to step or their hooves were callous, used to the rough terrain.

When their mother opened the small door to her new house, Pinkamena was greeted right away by the scent of some kind of stew, the aroma of plants simmering in a vegetable broth.

The first room was a small kitchen, or at least what it seemed the Pies used as a kitchen. There was a small table in the middle with three four-legged, wooden stools on both of the long ends of the rectangle. The stove, was nothing more than a chimney, a large pot sitting over a small fire which another pony was stoking with a prodder. The mare was older than Pinkamena, and had the same gray coat as Marble, but her eyes were less round and her mane and tail were a washed violet. They still hung in the straight sectioned locks that all of them seemed to have, but it was longer than Marble or Limestone’s and she was taller than a filly as well.

“I forgot it was soup night,” Marble said moving over to the bubbling cauldron of stew.

“How is it Maud?” Their mother shooed Marble away from the fire.

“Almost ready,” the mare responded. Her voice was clear, yet somehow flat and she said her words bluntly without much tone, the most drastic Pinkamena had encountered so far.

“I should introduce you to your new sister,” their mother turned to Pinkamena. “Maud this is Pinkamena.”

“Hi…” Pinkamena said quietly. There was a pause, Maud looking down at her with a blank expression, a look that both said and gave away nothing. The mare’s body language even seemed blank.

“Hello,” Maud said after an interval and turned, going back to stirring the soup, grabbing a ladle hanging from a hook above the fireplace. Pinkamena stood there awhile while the others dispersed, the twins heading through the one door in the corner of the room, whispering about something.

“If Dad doesn’t hurry he’ll miss soup night,” One of them said. That was all Pinkamena caught before they left. She wasn’t sure what they had the rest of the week that made soup so special, but she considered herself lucky. The orphanage always had plenty of food and this was only another reminder that things would be different here, unimaginably different, but only to her, the outsider. Her mother sat down at the table, picking up a newspaper and proceeding to eye it from top to bottom through the glasses hanging on her nose.

“It’s quiet…” Pinkamena said. She wasn’t sure she had meant to vocalize her thought. Perhaps it was because the disparity in atmosphere from the orphanage to this place was so great that she had to say something.

“Sit,” Without taking her eyes of what she was reading, her mother patted the stool next to her, gesturing for Pinkamena to sit next to her. Pinkamena climbed up the stool, plopped down, and waited. Nothing happened. It was just as silent as it was before. Pinkamena spanned the room with her eyes. There wasn’t even a clock to tick the seconds away. The only noise was the boiling in the kettle and Maud clinking the ladle against the side, still losing an occasional drop to a hiss in the fire.

“Try not to spill any Maud,” their mother said, looking up from her paper.

“I know,” she replied, rather listless. That was the closest they got to a conversation. Eventually it got dark enough that their mother got up and lit a lamp on a small end table in the corner of the room while Maud lit another lantern on the wall next to the door. Standing in the threshold she glanced at the cooking pot.

“It’s ready,” she stated, not a shout, but simple declaration. She walked back to the stew and Marble and Limestone came scampering into the room.

“Phew,” Marble said. “It was getting dark in there. Come on Granny Pie!” She called to somepony and Pinkamena tilted her head before she was startled as a voice she didn’t recognize came in response.

“Ah’ know!” It called back. “Give me ol’ bones a chance kiddo.” Momentarily, an elderly pony came wobbling through the doorway, her joints knotted and her mane and tail a mess of wiry white curls, her fur still a shade of the Pie’s signature gray. Had she been here the entire time?

“Thank ye’ fer makin’ the vittles tonight Maud,” She thanked Maud.

“No problem,” Maud said flatly. She moved past her grandmother and went back into the darkened room, coming back out shortly with a stack of wood bowls, some spoons, and another stool across her back as the door behind Pinkamena opened. She turned and their father was already back, taking his hat off and hanging it on a hook next to the door frame.

“There ye are,” Granny Pie said. “Where ye been Igneous? Down near dark already.”

“Had to take the nurse back to Ponyville,” he responded. Had it been that long, Pinkamena thought? Maybe it really wasn’t that far. Igneous moved to the head of the table where Maud had already placed the extra stool. She was by the cooking pot again, spooning ladlefuls of soup into the bowls one by one and bringing them to the table. It occurred to Pinkamena that she was sitting next to her mother which was Igneous’ wife and where the stallion probably usually sat. She was in his spot. She felt compelled to move, but he sat down at the end of the table without a word as if it was what he always did. A bowl of the steaming stew was placed in front of Pinkamena, Maud watching her longer than she watched the others. Pinkamena kept the mare’s gaze as she went back to the cooking pot, unsure why she was being stared at. Perhaps Maud simply wanted to see the new filly’s reaction to what she was being given. Looking down at the soup though, it wasn’t anything she wasn’t used to. With everything changing around her, the potatoes carrots, rice and beans suspended in the broth were a welcome consistency. Pinkamena poked at her spoon, unsure if she should start eating. She waited. Eventually everypony else was served and when they were all sitting they seemed to all sit uniformly, their front hooves pressed together in front of them on the table. There was a strange pause, and Pinkamena glanced to all of them, wondering what was going on, but eventually they all lowered their hooves, picked up their spoons and started eating. After a moment of hesitation, Pinkamena did the same.

They ate in relative silence, the most speech, a polite request for seconds, first from Igneous and then from Limestone. Maud stood up both times and poured them a second bowl. It wasn’t until now Pinkamena noticed that, unlike her sisters, Maud had a cutie mark. Unsurprisingly however, Pinkamena hadn’t seen it before because it was a boulder—a rock—nothing elaborate. Pinkamena didn’t know what to think of this family and worse, they were impossible to read. Were they happy? Were they sad? Angry? Giving each other the silent treatment for now? She couldn’t tell and when she finished her soup, her mind free to simply observe, it scared her. She couldn’t fit in here, even her fur suggested she was out of place. Like a balloon in the middle of rocks, her presence stood out when she simply wanted to hide. She imagined that to them she seemed fragile.

Pinkamena didn’t ask for seconds and waited until the table started clearing to touch her bowl again. She handed it to Maud, who watched Pinkamena’s face again as she went. What was happening? Was she being judged? She turned and in the corner of the room, caught sight of her darkened reflection again, brooding just outside the light. She jerked back to the table, locking her eyes on its surface, suddenly afraid. They didn’t know about it like Ms. Sunblossom did. What if it tried to hurt them? What if she tried to hurt them, the way she hurt Ms. Sunblossom? There was a tap on her shoulder.

“Are you alright?” Somepony asked. Pinkamena lifted her head. It was her mother.

“Mm,” Was all Pinkamena uttered, coupled with a head movement just slight enough to be interpreted as a nod.

“Well It’ll be an early morning,” Her mother told her. “Let’s get you to bed.” Pinkamena nodded, fully this time, and, hopping off her stool, followed her mother through the house. She really couldn’t dislike the pies so far. As expressionless as they were, they did seem to care, if only through what they did and the twins liked her at least as a playmate. When she was shown her room, it was a small space, with only a bed and a lantern on a nightstand. But as she stood in the hall as her mother walked in, lighting the lantern, she saw Maud, shuffling her sisters into the same room. They all shared it didn’t they, she thought. She shivered, still more and more the outsider as time went on.

“Turn the light off when you go to sleep,” Her mother said and walked past her as Pinkamena entered the room. She stood there, silent, a sinking loneliness settling in on her. She was scared. She turned to exit the room, but found her double standing in the corner behind the door, just watching. Pinkamena spun around, hopped up into her bed and scurried under her pillow. The lantern provided just enough light to surround the bed and she wanted to be where it was. If she stepped into the darkness she felt like her reflection, with its bladed eyes and despondent attitude, might regain the ability to throw her around. The bed itself was scratchy, a thin sheet the only thing that was separating her from the straw beneath it. She might have taken the time to appreciate that the straw bed was one of the few familiar things here, but she was to afraid to lift her head from her hiding place. Pinkamena kept her eyes clamped shut and hoped she would fall asleep.

Presently, she heard steps outside her room. They were slow, seemed inconsistent, and once outside her door, they stopped. Pinkamena waited, restraining her shaky nerves, but the steps made their way into the threshold.

“Whatdya doin under there filly?” It was Granny Pie, but Pinkamena didn’t move. Of all the ponies why her? She didn’t want to hurt their grandmother. There had apparently been a stool underneath the nightstand as Pinkamena heard Granny Pie drag it across the floor with a squeak and sit down next to the bed.

“How’s our newest pony doin’?” Granny Pie asked. She lifted the pillow and found Pinkamena shaking and covering her eyes.

“I’m scared.” Pinkamena told her.

“Hm? Scared a’ what?” Pinkamena pointed to the darkened corner of the room, where when she took a peek, she could clearly still see herself staring back at her, a looming and ominous presence.

“Why there aint nothing there dear,” Granny Pie insisted.

“Yes there is,” Pinkamena looked up at her grandmother in earnest. “It’s staring at me. It won’t leave me alone.”

“Listen uhh…” Granny Pie hesitated. “Pinkuhhh, Pin…no…oh horseshoes I swore I-”

“Pinkie,” Pinkamena stopped her.

“Right,” Granny Pie said. “Listen Pinkie, I dunno what you see, but this here aint no way to deal with yer fears”

“What?” Pinkamena stopped shaking, curious.

“That’s right Pinkie,” Granny Pie told her. “Ye gotta stand up tall, learn to face yer fears.” She paused nodding wisely. “You’ll see. They can’t hurt ye. Just laugh and make em’ disappear!”

“Laugh?” Pinkamena repeated the word as if she had never heard it before.

“That’s right. Come on. I know ye got a sense uh humor in there somewhere.” Granny Pie began prodding at Pinkamena with a hoof and Pinkamena flinched away from the tickling sensation when her sides were touched.

“Is it here,” poke. “Here?” poke. “Yer a toughin ey? Well I know its somewhere round here.” Pinkamena let out a slight giggle when Granny Pie settled on her left side, poking near Pinkamena’s underbelly because Granny Pie discovered that when she did, Pinkamena gave the biggest twitch. Pinkamena squirmed, trying to get away.

“Everypony has a funny bone you know,” Granny Pie said. Eventually Pinkamena couldn’t help but laugh, snickering as she tried to stifle herself, but unable to get away, stuck on the bed. Pinkamena grabbed the offending hoof with all fours and tugged, wiggling in a fit of forced giggles. Perhaps this was why Marble and Limestone liked to wrestle so much.

“Woop careful,” Granny Pie said. “These ol’ joints can’t take much tuggin.” Pinkamena stopped and let go, sitting up and shifting away.

“Sorry,” She apologized.

“Oh sorry nothin, I’m fine. But ye feel better now dontcha?” Pinkamena managed a smile this time as she nodded, and when she glanced to the corner of the room it didn’t seem quiet as dismal and there was no one there.

“See Pinkie. Aint that simple?”

“Thanks Granny Pie,” She moved to the edge of the bed and leaning out, gave her grandmother a hug.

“Oh, well that’s sweet of ye dear. But I think ye need to get yer rest now.” Pinkamena let go, sinking back to the bed’s surface as Granny Pie rose form the stool. Putting the stool back, Granny Pie made sure Pinkamena was safely under the covers before she turned out the light, making her wobbly way back to the door.

“Sleep tight,” She said. “Pie mornins are early mornins.” Granny Pie left the door to Pinkamena’s room open and in the darkness Pinkamena was finally able to comfortably close her eyes. Of all the things that had happened to her so far, her little bout of giggles had done just as much if not more to ease her spirit than being tucked in by Ms. Sunblossom might have done at the moment. That night when she slept, there was no fire in her dreams or any hideous reflection grinning back at her. There were only thoughts of laughter. Yet for all the thoughts that were there, Pinkamena didn’t know what to do with them. If laughter was such great medicine, how could she use it? If it was capable of getting her one demon to go away, how could she make herself smile? Laugh?

______________

Pinkamena woke up to the sound of hoof steps outside her door. Her eyes fluttered open drowsily. At first she thought it was still night, but when somepony made another pass through the hall, Pinkamena lifted her head and found that the corridor was lit faintly by whatever first light the sun was providing. Pie mornings really were early mornings. Had she lain her head back down, Pinkamena would have fallen back to sleep immediately, but, being compelled and curious, she sat at the edge of her bed, rubbing her eyes and yawning. It was several minutes before she managed to motivate herself to plop down to the floor, stumbling a little before she established balance on all four hooves.

Walking into the kitchen, Pinkamena found all the Pies sitting around the table and chewing on hay that had been formed into square pieces almost like bread. Igneous stood up when she came in and took his hat from the hook on the wall, placing it on his head. One of the sections of hay was suddenly in front of Pinkamena, and she looked to her left to find Maud, handing her what Pinkamena assumed was breakfast.

“We’ll be rotating the rocks from the south field to the east field today,” Igneous said looking at her. He probably only said so for her benefit. “I want you to go with Maud, Pinkamena. She’ll show you what to do.” With that, the stallion turned, opening the front door and letting a chilly breeze sweep in before closing it behind him, heading out into an overcast day, still half dark.

“Eat,” Maud said. Pinkamena grabbed the hay in her mouth and Maud headed back through the halls. Marble and Limestone quickened their pace, shoving down the last of their hay and drinking their water before they scurried out the door after their father. Pinkamena chewed on the stringy food she had been given. It wasn’t bad, just bland. But it was good for a first meal. By the time she drew the last of it into her mouth and chewed it up, Maud came back wearing what looked like a bluish gray work dress, a bit tattered, but soft at least in appearance. Pinkamena found herself wanting to touch it to find out. It was the first full body piece of clothing she had really ever seen a pony wear. But reaching out and touching someone she barely knew seemed weird even if it was her sister. So Pinkamena sat, swallowing her food and staring at Maud.

“What?” Maud asked. Pinkamena didn’t respond, but raised a hoof toward her sister, trying to get a sense for the kind of wordless language on which her new family operated. Maud looked at the appendage and then back to Pinkamena.

“This way,” She said and walked past Pinkamena. Pinkamena watched her go, lowering her hoof and expecting Maud to at least check if she was following. But the mare kept walking, opening the front door and stepping out without looking back. The door shut and Pinkamena scurried from her place after her sister. Granny Pie waved her out the door and Pinkamena managed a quick wave back as she fumbled outside. Pinkamena shivered, unaccustomed to early morning air and the chill of a day that was overshadowed by a layer of bleak clouds. On such days at the orphanage the closest Pinkamena would get to outside would’ve been the front room where she would watch the other fillies play their games while she was huddled away in a corner. Maud was already at the fence when Pinkamena caught sight of her, but she didn’t want to run after her. Fearing the bladed corners of stones under her hooves, Pinkamena’s walk was more of a skip as she maneuvered her way across the yard. Past the fence wasn’t any better, but Pinkamena managed to catch up to Maud, following closely behind her, watching, seeing if she could get a hint at what they might be doing. It was a rock farm. How did it work? You couldn’t grow rocks…could you?

They were far from the house when they stopped, coming to the front of a large domed rock face, a boulder lodged in an indent near its crest. There were piles of smaller and larger stones around it of any shape Pinkamena could have imagined.

“Wait here,” Maud said and moved around the rock face, coming back with a small wagon, already half full with smaller rocks. She set it next to a pile, picked up a large jagged stone and put it on the ground.

“Watch,” She told Pinkamena. Maud lifted her hoof and with one swift stomp, the mare sent cracks spider webbing through the stone and, lifting her leg again, repeated the action and the stone split apart into several smaller chunks. Pinkamena looked up at her sister, half amazed, half confused.

“We take the bad ones and crush them into gravel,” Maud said. “Save the rounder ones and put them in that wagon.” Pinkamena looked behind her, to find another wagon, empty. She turned back to her sister who, apparently satisfied with her explanation, turned to smashing more of the stones, brushing the fragmented pieces into piles with her tail and then scooping them up and putting them in the wagon. Pinkamena stood for a moment, unsure what to do. She turned to a pile of rocks next to her and pushed a stone off the top that looked like it fit whatever criteria Maud was using. Pinkamena didn’t know what made one rock worse than another or what a “bad” one was, but this one looked disfigured enough. It plopped into the dust at her feet, kicking up a small cloud that smelled a little like rain water. Pinkamena gave it a poke, watching Maud give another stomp. Pinkamena could feel slight tremors from it tickle the underside of her hooves. Doing her best to imitate Maud, Pinkamena stood over the rock she had chosen, pausing to eye it the way her sister did as if she might find its weak point. She let out a little grunt and, as fiercely as she could, forced her hoof down. It hurt. Pinkamena stifled herself but hobbled around in a circle, gritting her teeth. There wasn’t even a chip in the stone to show for her efforts. In frustration, Pinkamena reared back on her hind legs, using both front hooves to bash at it. She kept stomping and stomping and stomping, doing nothing. Just how strong was Maud? How weak was she?

“Stop,” a gray hoof moved in front of her and Pinkamena halted, looking up to find Maud standing over her. Pinkamena looked down and crossed her front hooves. It was humiliating, watching Maud crack through rocks like they were stale bread and then trying it herself, only for the rock to go farther toward breaking her, remaining resolutely unfazed under her weak legs.

“You should gather the loose rocks and stack them,” Maud suggested.

“Where?” Pinkamena pouted, as if she were challenging Maud to find her a task that she could actually do.

“Everywhere,” Maud stated and gestured around them to rest of the field. There were rocks scattered everywhere, how was she supposed to know which ones to stack and which ones were just part of the terrain? No, she thought, it was demeaning. Maud knew Pinkamena couldn’t do what she needed to and was relegating her to a lower position because the filly was too weak. Why did her new father have to send her along with this mare? She would have fit in far better with Marble and Limestone. Then again, she imagined them doing the same, smashing rocks with ease because that’s just what they did. Pinkamena was the weak link.

“No!” Pinkamena yelled at Maud, jumping on top of the rock. “I’m not useless! I can- Get this!” Pouncing on the stone, Pinkamena brought herself down with all the force she could muster, every smack recoiling through her joints. But she didn’t stop. She kept hitting it and hitting it, wanting the rock to break like it should, like it was supposed to.

“Stop,” Maud said again, lifting Pinkamena up and away from the stone. Pinkamena flailed in Maud’s grip, squirming her way to get off the mare’s hoof.

“No!” Pinkamena started crying. “It’s supposed to break.” She kicked off Maud’s leg and tumbled onto the ground. She lay there, feeling spots on her side where there certainly going to be scrapes.

“Rocks don’t just break,” Maud told her. “Are you okay?”

“No…” Pinkamena sobbed, but before Maud could approach her, she stood up, brushing herself off and hobbling away. Her right hoof felt sore.

“Where are you going?” Maud asked.

“To stack rocks,” Pinkamena snapped. She waited a few moments and looked back. Maud had turned away and gone back to her pile of rocks.

“Tch,” Pinkamena sunk down and cried. She knew they didn’t care. Their expressions were nothing like Ms. Sunblossom’s, her face always full of care even when she was sad. This family showed nothing, said nothing. And when they did speak, it was flat and without feel. Only Granny Pie seemed to care, but she wasn’t here. If Pinkamena was going to be expected to work the fields every day with the other daughters, she would hardly see her. Pinkamena felt her chest tighten. At the orphanage she had simply been solitary, this, here where she lay, was loneliness. Pinkamena lifted her head, and wiping her eyes, saw Maud grab a white cloth from the wagon, slinging it over her back and walking back toward her.

Before Pinkamena could think about it, her tail started twitching, violently. It spasmed and Pinkamena grabbed it, trying to get it to stop, but it started shaking her whole body. A snap met her ears and a sound of rock grinding against rock. She looked up. The boulder at the top of the rock face tipped slowly forward.

“Maud!” Pinkamena yelled. There was no time. She had to act. Pinkamena threw her herself into a gallop watching the boulder gain speed as gravity worked into its favor. She wouldn’t make it. In an act of desperation, she reached up grabbing the word off this page and using it launch herself forward. It was mind bending, even for her. The thing in her hooves was nothing that had been there before, a product of somehow reaching through a void and grabbing the one thing convenient enough to speed herself up. A spring.

Pinkamena collided with Maud, forcing both of them into a tumble. With a booming thud the boulder slammed into the ground just shy of their tails. Maud skidding to a halt on her back with Pinkamena on top of her. Several smaller rocks clicked about in the aftermath, falling in the boulder’s wake, gravel trickling down from where it used to be. Lifting her face from Maud’s chest, Pinkamena sat up, staring at her sister, who was shaking the dust away from her eyes.

“Did you…catch me?” Pinkamena asked. It was the only thing she could think of. With everything happening how did Maud even have time for that kind of consideration? Maud nodded.

“That rock has been up there for years,” Maud said. “How did you know its was going to fall?” Maud turned her head, looking at the strange metallic spring Pinkamena had summoned up from nowhere. “Where did you get that?” Pinkamena had no idea how to answer either question. She looked to her tail. That kind of twitching had happened before. She recalled when the picture had fallen from Ms. Sunblossom’s dresser and how she had caught it without thinking. This felt very similar.

“I…don’t know…” Pinkamena said. Maud lifted Pinkamena off her, rolled over, and stood up. Both of them were covered in all the dust that hung in the air. Maud shook it off like a dog when she got to her feet, the gravel falling from her mane in a puffy haze.

“Are you alright?” She asked. Pinkamena nodded. “Why were you crying?” Pinkamena thought for a second, but only the truth came to her mind.

“I was lonely,” Pinkamena said, trying to imitate Maud’s bluntness. Maud took a step forward and Pinkamena suddenly found herself in an embrace. What? She didn’t get it. They all seemed so distant, especially Maud. So why this? What was this hug about? Was it simply gratitude for being saved from a falling boulder that motivated Maud? If it was, then why did she hold on so long? Why was it so soft? Pinkamena looked up at Maud and perhaps as subtly as possible, her sister smiled. Almost as an impulse, Pinkamena grinned back at her. A warmth seemed to leap from inside her and for a moment everything looked brighter. Under the aura of that small smile, she was no outsider; she was a friend.

Pinkamena leapt against her sister, returning her hug with the biggest one she could manage. A giggle escaped her and just like the night before, she felt her sorrows dissolve in the sound of it. But part of it seemed selfish. She laughed, but Maud didn’t. Pinkamena wanted her to, but as she released her sister, Maud’s smile lasted only a few more moments, vanishing as slightly as it appeared.

“You’re weird,” She said, still in her listless tone.

“I’m Pinkie Pie,” Pinkamena replied. Maud stared back, tilting her head as if she didn’t see a difference.

“You won’t fit in here,” Maud said.

“What?” Pinkamena wilted, lowering her ears.

“That’s good,” Maud continued. “We could use somepony who’s different. It gets boring sometimes.” Pinkamena perked up.

“Do you feel lonely sometimes?” She asked.

“Not with all the rocks around,” Maud said.

“Huh?” Pinkamena tilted her head. Was she really the weird one? Maud turned to her wagon and, scooping up one last pile of stones, hitched herself up to it.

“I’m taking these to the east field,” Maud told her. “You should stack the rocks, not smash them.” Pinkamena nodded and watched Maud go, heading off to do whatever it was the Pies did when they rotated the rocks. Pinkamena wasn’t sure. All she knew right now was that she was apparently supposed to stack some of the stones scattered around the south field. It seemed rather daunting, looking at the blank expanse thinking she had to get all of them into groups. There were so many, some that were apparently good and some that were apparently bad. The only qualification Pinkamena had been given for whether one was good or not was if it was round. With that in mind, Pinkamena devoted herself to stacking only the jagged rocks for Maud, picking ones she figured her sister would say needed to be smashed. The large boulder that had nearly toppled onto them was round enough, but Pinkamena wasn’t even sure Maud knew what to do with it.

Pinkamena rolled, or flipped the flatter rocks, into piles, pushing them along with her nose. It seemed like an hour or so went by before she had a pile that was even as tall as herself, the minutes under the monochrome sky dragging on with no way to tell how the time past other than that the dark gray sky had gotten brighter. The sun was up there somewhere behind the veil, its light half lost under the gloomy layers.

Pinkamena had expected Maud to come back, but also wasn’t sure where or how far away the east field even was. By herself, Pinkamena imagined that this was what it was normally like for Maud. If she wasn’t here, the mare would have been by herself and Pinkamena saw just how boring it could be. Yet Maud had seemed to enjoy what she did, at least in her own way. Pinkamena couldn’t explain it, but when Maud had left with her wagon, the mare had seemed happier than before despite wearing her usual blank expression. But after Pinkamena laughed, everything looked like it got brighter for a while. Maybe it was just her.

Rolling another stone to the base of the pile with her snout, Pinkamena pushed it up and it clicked against its counterparts, settling down on its flat side. Looking around, she didn’t see Maud anywhere. A hint of worry past over her, but it was short lived. Out of nowhere, Pinkamena felt the ground shake, a low pulsing rumble vibrating the rubble beneath her. A massive wave of color hissed through the sky, a brilliant, glowing band of hues that seemed to dissolve the cloud cover like solvent dissolved dust. Pinkamena was hit head on with a wave of air, the wind barreling past her, pulling at her skin and waving her mane about like a crazed flag. The flash of light soared away overhead and in a single beat it all stopped. Pinkamena felt a release like a static shock and when the wind stopped, her mane and tail got all frazzled, ending up in a messy ball of pink curls.

She stood wide eyed for a moment in shock, watching as a rainbow arched its way over their house in the wake of the blast. It was beautiful. Pinkamena had never seen one so clear before, nor ever seen something like the massive explosion of color that had just passed over her head. Yet she wasn’t scared. Pinkamena was happy. She was overcome with an inexplicable amount of joy, grinning up at the ribbon of color with the widest smile she had ever smiled. She had never felt joy like this before. The clouds were gone and the sun was shining, and Pinkamena was happy. Her loving caretaker wasn’t even here and somehow she was happy.

“This is the best day ever!” She leapt into the air, sure that the whole word was sharing in her joy. “I watched the sun blossom Ms. Sunblossom!” She shouted. She heard her, Pinkamena told herself; she had to have heard her. She twirled around in circles on one hoof. The Pies! She thought. They needed to see it; they needed to look up and see this beautiful rainbow and smile. They all needed to smile, not just Granny Pie or Maud, but all of them and she wanted to see it. It was the only thing that could make her happier right now.

“Everypony!” She shouted. “You have to-huh?” In the midst of her spinning, Pinkamena came across somepony sitting behind her with their back turned. It was that little pink filly with the straight falling mane, dark and gloomy still, already looking like something from the past. She wasn’t afraid of it though. Everything around it was so bright and colorful that she knew it couldn’t hurt her. And suddenly she understood what Ms. Sunblossom had been trying to tell her. This was her, the other girl.

“Hey,” She said. “Look up, the sky is wonderful!” Pinkamena approached her old reflection, but it turned and spat at her.

“Oh…” She frowned. “Why so gloomy.” This was her challenge, Pinkamena thought. If she could get this pony to smile, she could get anypony to smile. The Pies wouldn’t stand a chance.

“Tell me Pinkamena,” It said. “What did you think of me?

“You scared me,” She answered.

“Ha!” The figure scoffed. “Everyone is afraid of the truth aren’t they?”

“Is that what you think you are?”

“I’ve always told the truth!” It yelled at her. “Even about Archer. You saw how his friends huddled together with their little memorial. You’ll see, he’ll be the angel I meant him to be.”

“You hurt a lot of ponies you know.”

“What do I care!? They’ll find a new friend and Ms. Sunblossom will find a new daughter!”

“You can’t replace a friend silly. They’re one of a kind.”

“Psh. Everyone wants to be one of a kind until they realize how lonely it is…”

“Are you lonely?” Pinkamena asked, stepping forward.

“I don‘t know…” It lowered its head. “I don’t know what to do anymore. You beat me. I had so many things I wanted, so many to prove wrong. I wanted to show the world that they knew nothing about anything, but really…I was the one who knew nothing. I am idiot Pinkamena. A fool. Now I’ve lost everything…even my own identity. I don’t even know who I am…”

“Sure you do,” Pinkamena assured her. “Aster.” The figure’s head shot up.

“How did you…” The figure trailed off staring at her.

“Hehe,” Pinkamena giggled at her success. “I knew it was you.”

“How long…have you known…?”

“Oh just a few minutes,” Pinkamena answered. “But it's you isn’t it? You’re Ms. Sunblossom’s daughter!" Pinkamena jumped, but stopped, tilting her head. "What…What happened?” The figure looked back her piteously, its eyebrows upturned, its face pained and regretful.

“I did horrible things…” It said. “Then I made you do the same. I made the same mistake twice just to prove I was right…even Mom was afraid of me…”

“Not anymore,” Pinkamena smiled. “You know what she told me?” She leaned in and gave Aster a nudge, waiting for her to guess.

“Shut up…” The figure growled. “I don’t want to hear-”

“She asked me to forgive you!”

“No!” Aster yelled, pushing Pinkamena away. “Don’t taunt me with your cheap talk! I’ve killed ponies! Killed them and been happy about it. I wanted it to happen and I carried it out. Don’t talk to me about forgiveness. ”

“Ms. Sunblossom said she love’s you,” Pinkamena approached. “Very much.”

“That does nothing f-” She stopped, interrupted as Pinkamena threw her hooves around her. Aster frowned.

“You know it probably looks like you’re hugging a rock right?”

“I don’t care,” Pinkamena gripped Aster harder. “See Aster, I’ve learned so much. You gave me an incredible gift that I haven’t even seen the surface of yet. I can sense things before they happen just like you wanted. You know what I’m gonna use it for?”

“Humor me,” Aster rolled her eyes, trying in vain to wriggle free from Pinkamena.

‘Exactly,” Pinkamena answered. “I’m gonna use it to make everypony smile. Smile just as big as I smiled at that rainbow. I want to hear them laugh because it makes me happy. Every time Walter made me laugh, it made him smile and every time Ms. Sunblossom smiled I felt like it was all I ever needed. Thank you, I know what I need now. You see, you wanted to take and take from everypony and it made you sad and that’s what happens to anypony when all they do is take and never give back. I’m gonna give back to the world Aster and There’s not gonna be any gloomy ponies while I’m around. I can’t keep this joy to myself, I want to spread it as far as I can. Pinkie Pie will be friends with everypony. You’ll see! I’m gonna march over to that town called Ponyville and I’m gonna make friends.”

“Right,” Aster said. “You go ahead and have your fun. I am a dead mare.”

“There you go again,” Pinkamena looked at the figure sternly, exaggerated a down turned lip. “You keep saying how everyone loves to talk about death.”

“I’m not wrong…”

“No,” Pinkamena smiled, shaking Aster affectionately. She swore she could feel the reflection against her fur. Was it warm? Was that just her? Was it all in Pinkamena’s head? “But you’ve got it all backwards silly. You lost sight of the reason. We talk about death because it humbles us, it makes us realize we only have so much time and that time is valuable. But that’s it. You only ever talk about death as a result Aster. You’ve forgotten what comes before it.”

“Shut up!” Aster yelled, pushing harder at Pinkamena, struggling visibly now to get away.

“You’re scared aren’t you?” Pinkamena held onto her.

“No!” Aster stared to cry. “What do I have to afraid of? I’m already dead. Now let me go! Let me go! Let me go!”

“I won’t,” Pinkamena asserted, her grip obstinate, firm but not crushing.

“Why?” Aster stopped struggling, her eyes full of water as she started quivering in Pinkamena’s hooves. “Why are you torturing me like this? Just let me go!”

“No,” Pinkamena reasserted. “You’re my friend.”

“Friend?” Aster shook her head. “No… You can’t be friends with a monster.”

“Monster?” Pinkamena questioned. “Then we’re the same!” Pinkamena smiled wider. Aster reared back, looking like she was going to strike her. She cried out, throwing her front hooves forward, swinging madly, yet landing fiercely, but neatly around Pinkamena.

“What are you talking about,” She sobbed, head over Pinkamena’s shoulder. “You didn’t do anything.”

“We’re in the same body Aster,” Pinkamena stated. “What you did, I did. I thought I was a monster too. No, I thought I was worse. But you know what?” Pinkamena brought Asters head forward and held her at hooves length, looking her in the eye. “Ms. Sunblossom forgave me.”

“She’s a fool…” Aster looked away.

“I forgive you too,” Pinkamena smiled.

“Tch…” Aster sniffled. “You’re both fools.”

“This is the only way you know,” Pinkamena said. “the only way I can make up for all the sadness we’ve cause is to spread joy and spread it as far and happily as I can. You were right about one thing Aster. Equestria will love us and we’ll love Equestria and all its ponies tenfold! We’ll have parties and see so many smiles! I’ll make so many friends. But I’ll never forget the first one.” Pinkamena raised a hoof and tapped Aster on the nose. “Aster Sunblossom”

“How can you even say that after what I did to you…”

“Because I forgive you.”

“Is it really that simple?”

“It’s the only way to stop the cycle. I want you to be happy Aster. I want everypony to be happy. Because just like death, joy humbles us. It reminds us that we’re alive. I want you to know that feeling too.”

“I don’t have anything to start from,” Aster told her. “My happiness is spent.”

“So go find more!” Pinkamena exclaimed

“Shut up!” Aster shoved Pinkamena, finally mustering the strength to push her away. “You sound like a naïve child!” Pinkamena stayed where she was.

“Silly pony,” She said. “Weren’t you the one who said children are the smartest?”

“Don’t cite me!” It spat. There was silence, the breeze blowing across the rocks around them. It was peaceful and Pinkamena was determined to make this mare share in that peace, no matter how stubborn she was.

“Hey…” Pinkamena started, softly. “Your mom misses you…you know?

“So what?” Aster hung her head. “What of it? I can’t go back and neither can you. So what if she misses me? I can’t see her even if I miss her too!”

“Do you miss her?” Pinkamena asked, approaching Aster again and putting a hoof on her shoulder.

“Shut up,” She bawled. “I made my mistakes. I wasn’t wise like I thought I was…” The filly collapsed onto Pinkamena and broke into sobs. “I’m sorry… so sorry.”

“Don’t you want a happy ending?” Pinkamena asked.

“You’ve seen what I’ve done,” It choked. “How can I be happy?”

“Smile,” Pinkamena grinned. Aster looked up at Pinkamena, the sun sparkling off the tears on her face. For a moment, Pinkamena swore the mare’s fur was tan, that instead of looking just like her, she looked like Aster, glowing mane and all. She looked so much like her mother that it hurt a little, but Pinkamena didn’t cry.

“You cheesy dolt…” There it was, genuine and slight. But Aster couldn’t seem to stop it. She smiled, perhaps only at Pinkamena’s ridiculousness. But if that’s what it took, then that’s what she would do.

“I did it!” Pinkamena shouted, bouncing around the filly and spinning herself in a victory twirl. “I’m so happy I could fly! Oh c’mere you!” Pinkamena gave the girl another big hug, squishing their faces together, relishing in both of their smiles.

“Heh…You’re stupid,” Aster chuckled lightly. “Unbelievably stupid.”

“But you smiled!” Pinkamena twirled her in a circle, spinning around the pebbles in the dirt, kicking up dust. She was warm, Pinkamena realized. This warmth she felt against her was Aster’s. She wasn’t cold or soulless. Aster was a little filly through and through, just like her.

“Alright enough,” The filly said. “That’s enough fluffiness for me.” Aster pushed herself away again, less forcefully. This time, Pinkamena let her go gently.

“So now that we’re totally best buds…” Pinkamena grinned.

“Don’t push your luck,” Aster said. “You’ll never get rid of me you know. The spell was permanent. Every time your tail twitches or your ears flop, you’ll have me to blame.”

“To thank,” Pinkamena corrected her.

“Whatever…” Aster trailed off. “Hm,” She seemed to sink into thought, staring at the ground and smiling nostalgically at some inner image she saw painted in the stones.

“What is it?” Pinkamena asked.

“My Mom…” Aster said. “She’s too amazing…I made her afraid of me, made her lose you…and she’s still standing, still taking care of orphans like she hasn’t been torn apart.”

“She’ll be okay,” Pinkamena affirmed. “She’s Ms. Sunblossom. Like you said, she’s amazing.”

“You have to go back one day,” Aster said. “You have to go back and let her now that…that I accept her forgiveness, but…I had to go…”

“Of course!” Pinkamena smiled.

“Promise?”

“I thought you didn’t like promises?” Pinkamena tilted her head.

“Please?” Aster implored.

“Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye!” Pinkamena put a hoof to one of her eyes.

“What?” Aster raised an eyebrow.

“Pinkie Promise!” Pinkamena exclaimed.

“That’s good enough,” Aster said. “I suppose…I trust you.”

“We’ll see Ms. Sunblossom again someday,” Pinkamena assured her.

“Goodbye Pinkie,” The filly lowered her head with a faint smile. Pinkamena giggled and ruffled the filly’s mane with her hoof. It was done. The mare before her was no longer her reflection, no longer just a voice.. All the way from her mane, curled at the ends, to her light tan fur, she was Aster Sunblossom, Emese’s daughter. But her presence was thin, fading into the sunlight like a morning mist. She was at peace and her warmth faded under her tan-orange mane. It suited her, Pinkie Pie thought. She liked her own the way it was now. It was so poofy and fluffy that it was perfect. She wanted it to stay that way. Pinkamena turned and bounced away across the rock fields, yelling happily as she went, breathing in fresh, clean air.

“Goodbye Aster! Congratulations on your happy ending!” She kept bouncing and when she turned away that was the last time she ever saw that little filly. But her tail gave a twitch and she hopped to the left as a rock came falling out of the sky. You’re with me all the way Aster. Now let’s make everypony smile. Pinkie Pie had made Aster smile and that was all that mattered to her. The Pies were next. Pinkie Pie skipped her way back to the farmhouse under a vibrant, blue sky and ringing out clearly in the warm sunny rays, she heard the chime of a bell.

Fin...

Congratulations, it seems you've made it to end of the story. I sincerely thank you for both taking the time to not only read this, but finish it as well. This is one of the first long works I've ever finished and one of the few I can actually say I'm proud to have written. I hope it was worth your time. My gratitude also goes to those who helped in the forging of this story (you know who you are). Also to anyone who made the journey all the way here, don't be afraid to comment and tell me what you thought. I'd very much like to know. Until then, keep on keeping on.