Einhermare

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Another morning.

Mjolna got out of bed, being careful with the leg. Brushed her teeth. Brushed her hair. Popped her pills. Walked out the door. No braids today as usual. She considered going to the spa or boutique later in the day at Tammys’ recommendation. That would be fun. It’s not like she didn’t have the time or the money. Anything to try and ease the memory of last night.

Last night had been horrible. Mjolna hadn’t had enough time to get herself out of the garden before Tammy swung by and found her where she was –sniffling among her plants in a pile of mud. She’d helped her inside and asked what happened to her, running a hot bath to clean the mud. So like a little foal she cried and told Tammy how much she hated everything. How much she missed her old life. How much she hated the pain. How much she hated feeling weak.

Tammys sympathy helped, but sympathy can only help so much.

Rounding a corner, Mjolna heard the sounds of manual labor and a pounding jackhammer. Flicking an ear, she walked up to the construction site. All her old co-workers going about their business behind the chain link fence.. They were starting from scratch on this project. A month ago the entire structure collapsed thanks to a combination of bad planning, a bad crane malfunction and just plain bad luck. All of them had nearly died, according to the Ponyville Press. If it weren’t for a pair of heroic mares, the lot would have been empty and a memorial constructed in its place.

One of her friends spotted her, trotting over with a smile. Mjolna wondered where those two heroes had been when that crate had smashed into her back.

“Hey MJ! How’s the leg?” bubbled Cindy Block, a cream colored mare with a wrench gracing her flanks. She was consistently upbeat, but not overbearingly so. Her light blue hair framed inquisitive teal eyes, usually half covered with bangs out of work. She propped herself up on the gate. “Has the doc been helping ya along?”

“My leg is killing me,” said Mjolna flatly. Cindys’ ears fell. “Of course, it feels like everything’s killing me lately…”

“Ouch…” grimaced the construction pony.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I had a rough night.”

“No, I getcha. It’s gotta be rough after Mr. Brown dumped that box on ya. I sprained my hoof once. It was awful. It hurts everyday.”

Mjolna sighed, knowing that her friend was just trying to relate and not make her feel worse.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”Cindy smiled.

Mjolna pointed to a stocky young colt on the second floor of the new complex.

“Who’s the little guy?” she asked.

“That’s Split! He joined the crew last week. Tough little colt actually.” They watched him turn around and bump into a pair of stacked tile, the whole thing falling over the side and into wet concrete poured below. Cindy winced. “Split is…learning.”

“My replacement is a kid huh…” noted Mjolna, her brow furrowing at his ineptitude.

“What?!” cried Cindy. “Nonononono he’s not a replacement! Just a temp until you get back on your hooves. Everypony knows you can do three times the job he can.”

“Cindy…I’m not coming back to work.”

The contruction pony sighed, clopping her hooves together nervously. “Is it that bad MJ?”

Mjolna stared hard at her former co-worker. “It’s that bad.”

“I’m sorry.”

Before Mjolna could respond a shrill whistle cut through the air like a knife. The clattering sound of heavy tools hitting the floor followed immediately. Cindy jumped off the fence.

“That’s lunch. I’m going to go get my food. Stick around and we’ll chat for a bit ‘kay?”

Nodding, she sadly watched Cindy join her fellow workers over at the trailer. Not feeling keen on staying around the construction site Mjolna turned tail and headed into town. What she really needed was a glass of water; the pills she took earlier already wearing off.

Another day perhaps.

***

Sundays at the market were total chaos. All the shops had a stall open for business. Occasionally the market would have visitors from out of town. Traveling salesponies looking to make an extra buck would set up their wares along the outskirts. The crafty ones would squeeze in a space somewhere along the stores most visited. Mjolna loved Sunday shopping. It was always fun seeing new ponies and what they were selling. Just last week she purchased another ornate mace to hang over her doorway. Other ponies hung lights above their doorframe. Mjolna had maces. She didn’t know why other than she liked them. But she did.

There wasn’t much new to look at today. The crotchety old book vendor was out selling his wares. Who else but Twilight Sparkle was already standing in line-her pet dragon carting a soon to be filled to the brim red wagon behind. Breezys’ Best Blowers gave her a start when one of the more powerful fans blew a gust of wind at her hair. She gave a wave to Tammy, which went unseen thanks to the throng of ponies buying fruits and vegetables today. The Cakes were out selling hot muffins next to the Sweet Apple Acres apple stand. Last night she had run out of cider drinking with Tammy. Passing by, she made a mental note to buy some before they closed up.

A glint of silver caught her eye. Sitting squarely between Davenports’ Quickest Quills and a very lovely selection of Lyras’ Fanciest Hats was a beat-up tented wagon. There were all manner of silver coins, cutlery and other wares pinned to the tents’ opening. A stylized double V was stitched at the top of the tent flap. The sound of wind chimes faintly emanated Curiosity piqued, she began a slow trot inside.

“Wow…” she whispered. The tent stretched at least three spaces back. Two small tables flanked her on each side. They were each filled to the brim with all kinds if odds and ends. Knick-knacks covered every waking inch of the table. What didn’t fit there was pinned to the walls of the tent or otherwise hanging from the ceiling. Pairs of pliers, crops of purple amethyst, skulls of creatures with too many teeth to think about, dragon hide, manticore venom, kelpie tears, elaborate whistles, collections of jeweled wind up music boxes; the place was stocked with wild things things she’d never heard of, much less seen up close.

Mjolna was inspecting a very fat black book when a hoof tapped her on the shoulder.

“See anything you like?”

“AH!” the unexpected touch almost got her to leap in the air. Pain in her hind leg immediately surfaced from the harsh reaction. Mjolna gritted her teeth, waiting for it to pass before answering. “Well! Sorry! I was just browsing-“

“No, you were glancing,” said the mare, a dark cloak obscuring her features. “Looking around at things before moving on to the next. I assume nothing I have to offer has caught your eye?”

Mjolna scowled at her. “Not yet. I’m just looking around before I start browsing. If you don’t want me to I can just leave.”

“You misunderstand. Please, take your time. There’s no rush,” the mare smiled, a gold tooth visible in her grin.

Mjolna looked around the remainder of the tent. She was being extra careful now to not bump her head on any hanging valuables. The vendor shadowed her every move. It was very uncomfortable. She was starting to feel unnerved at the silence.

“So where do you get all this stuff?” she picked up a ominous black sphere, finding it warm to the touch.

“Here and there. Amazing it is how many treasures there are in this world if one simply stopped for a moment to look around. Even then, you still have to pick it up.” The vendor gestured towards an ornate winged staff. “This I picked up underneath Cloudsdale. If the Pegasi had any foresight they would put up a net.”

“Mhm,” agreed Mjolna, running her hoof at the staff. Her leg was starting to throb.

“My sister lives in Manehatten,” continued the mare. “Sometimes as a courtesy I will receive trinkets and goods she has little success in selling. Vivian always did have trouble with the more unusual goods. Sometimes they scare off the customers.”

A wind up box popped open. Four heavily- browed stuffed hydra heads popped out. Mjolna shrieked and slugged her hoof at it. The wooden toy hit the dirt with a soft thud. The cloaked mare tutted and picked it up with the soft glow of her orange magic.

“No, not a very popular item,” she set the box back on the table. “Are you all right?” The vendor watched as her potential customer opened a pill bottle, gulping down some medicine along with a swig from a water bottle from her saddlebags.

“Fine, just fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes it’s not a problem, really.”

The mare raised an eyebrow.

“If you insist…so, what’s your name?”

“Huh?”

“Your name. I am bad at names.”

“Oh, uh,” she balked, uncertain at the sudden inquiry, “my name is Mjolna, or MJ for short. What’s your name?”

“You may call me Violet, or Ms. Visceri. Whichever you prefer.”

“How about I call you Miss Violet?” offered Mjolna.

The vendor frowned.

“If you insist, MJ for short.”

Hoping she didn’t accidently offend the vendor she continued poking around the room. After a few minutes it was apparent that Miss Violet wasn’t too offended when she struck up some more conversation. They talked for a bit over the weather, travels, odd things she’d found and sold. Violet was particularly interested in her cutie mark of all things. Mjolna explained she didn’t really understand it herself and assumed her talent was work as a construction mare of some sort.

“What’s this?”

An otherwise unremarkable object caught her eye. It looked to be some sort of steel pipe. She picked it up, surprised to find it of considerable heft despite its size. It was very cool to the touch.

“This…this was once the very same stirring stick used by King Minos, the first of the Minotaur. He would use this ladle to stir the spiciest of soups. A very rare item indeed!”

“Uh-huh. Sure it is.”

“Okay okay. You have gotten me. I myself am unsure of this piece. My sister shipped it to me. The original owner said he found it during a walk in Whitetail Woods going through Ponyville. Said he didn’t know what to do with it. It sat in my sisters’ Manehatten store for fifteen years before she shipped it with me. Vivian said I would find a seller for it somewhere.” Violet scratched her frizzy purple mane. “Do you want it?”

Mjolna looked at the odd piece in her hoof. Sliding her hoof down its perfect smoothness, she felt too odd grooves at the tip. It had a nice weight to it. Definitely would be a nice tool. Her heart started thumping a little harder in her chest.

She did want it.

“I will part with it for ten bits.”

Violet pulled her hood down. A quill and parchment appeared from thin air.

“You will need to sign this waiver excusing me from all possible liabilities or injuries that may occur upon purchase of this item...if you do so. It is just business. You understand of course.”

Usually when Violet would pull out the mandatory waiver it would scare away her customers. MJ for short had no such fear in her eyes. She almost seemed at peace with the mysterious object in her hooves.

Mjolna looked up, her eyes unusually intense.

“I’ll take it.”

***

The walk home was agonizing. Mjolna wished she could break into a gallop and just rush through her front door. The pain cropping up in her leg halted that notion. Instead she walked to her house in the fastest half -trot she could muster.

By the time she got home it was late. Collecting her mail she opened the door to her house. It was her neighbors’ mail, again. That could be delivered tomorrow. The cabinets flew open. Mjolna stuck her jars of Apple Family Cider inside. Everything taken care of, she delicately placed the object by her nightstand. She was tired and her scheduled therapy classes were tomorrow. When she had the energy she would dig around for that magnifying glass she never used to really give that thing a look. It was almost exciting for some reason. It wasn’t anything special. It didn’t seem like it at least. Tomorrow would hold more answers for her.

Mjolna yawned and closed her eyes.

Tomorrow.