Wind. Clouds. Sky… Majesty. Fog. Mist. Brume… Secrecy. Sun. Space. Moon… Serenity. Gem. Metal. Stone… Huh?
A rhythmic working of tools drew me out of my daytime ritual as it echoed about my cliff faces. I wasted no time in addressing the perpetrator of this crass interruption. Miners? No, thank the Great Stone.
“I hear you, pony geologist,” I said, “tap-tap tapping away at my stones, studying my composition. I see you, with climbing gear in hoof, scanning my precipices and crags with studious and serene eyes… Ah, your ears perk up, you can understand my awesome telepathy!”
The bluish-grey pony’s brow arched slightly as she looked up in the general direction of my summit, but her expression nevertheless remained neutral.
“Well, do your eyes lust for what you see, pervert?” I said, acting madcap in an attempt to spark emotion in the stranger to gauge her ways.
“Don't worry, my interests are purely academic,” the pony said to me in a pleasing deadpan, as I observed her returning to her ministrations with dutiful pace. With the careful but deliberate motions of her work, and the calm, collected nature of her expression, I was thus inclined to believe her.
“Hmm… Well, fortunately for you, your phlegmatic grace and beauty makes me trust you, pony geologist. You remind me of a fellow member of the Stone. As such, I have no hesitation about sharing with you knowledge about a few things I have seen, so long as you stay those dreaded instruments.”
I gave silent thanks to the Heated Ones below for gracing us mountains with a lack of the complex intrigue that can beleaguer Small Folk.
“Great, I already have enough samples for later, anyways.” Again, that monotone grace delights me with its divine presence!
“Thank you. With us at an understanding, I shall begin anon. Oh, forewarning – I may grow a bit too poetic. This often happens when I speak of the Great Stone."
“A spire of stone. Canterlot’s home. You bear a throne, though never utter a groan. You are made of stone, one of the greatest known. You stand alone, a spire of stone.”
Did she just… she did! My astonishment dwarfs that upstart the Small Folk call Smokey Mountain, a thousand times over!
“Wait…you are a master of the prose as much as you are one of the Stone?” I queried, to which she nodded. “Oh joy…I’d feel pebbles surging up in my eyes…if only I had them in the same sense as Smaller World life. What is your name, noble and most talented scholar of the Stone?
“I’m Maud. Maud Pie.”
“Wondrous to make your acquaintance, graceful Maud of the Pie!”
“The feeling is mutual. You were saying about the Great Stone?” Though her composure was ever unwavering, I could still detect the glimmer of interest in her eyes.
“Ah yes, my origins are as humble as any other mountain’s; don’t let my current residents of ivory towers, thrones, and gold-capped spires fool you, ” I told her.
“They don’t,” Maud replied, rearranging her equipment neatly on the plateau and settling into a comfortable posture. “Please continue.”
“Well, since you are a scholar of the Stone, this should come as nothing new… Like my taller neighbours to the West, and my needle-like summited cousins to the East, I am a child of the Great Stone, birthed and sculpted from the action of the Heated Ones over aeons as they made the very stone itself pliable and transient. A bit like…what is it you Small Folk call it? Dough? Nevertheless, similar to flowers of the Smaller World, we emerge from the crust of the world by the force of the Heated Ones' plate tectonics, and blossom as flowers of the Greater World as epochs pass. While we grow, we bear witness to the events and affairs of both the Great and the Small, sometimes even becoming actors in their great plays.”
“I wrote a one-act play once,” Maud interjected. “It was about the metamorphosis of organic material into anthracite.” She pulled a small stone from one of her pockets and held it out in front of her. “It’s Boulder’s favourite. He’s my pet rock. Say hello, Boulder.”
For some reason, that tickled me. “Hello, Boulder. You keep good company in pets, Maud of Pie.”
“Boulder thanks you.” Maud Pie blinked and produced what appeared to be the seeds of the common Equestrian sunflower. She took the small bag and tossed several of the seeds onto Boulder, then trained her eyes back towards my summit. “You were saying?”
“Ah yes, on the era that was my such time to blossom, few sapients had yet arisen on the Earth – the Great Stone,” I continued on. “Those species that would eventually rise to the status on Equestria still roamed the northern grasslands and windy plains, feeding on the supple plants and hunting the hapless species underhoof, while their winged brethren took to the clouds with their numerous flocks in great number. These colourful hoofed denizens of the Small – similar to your type as much as different – did live in tandem with what chance provided them for many an age, but inevitably, evolution marched on and the most promising species followed suit.”
“They started building things with stone. Life is in constant flux, unlike rocks.”
“Indeed! Sapience arose, and in time, the hoofed ones began to bend the world to their will. Magic entered usage from the earliest days when abstract thinking was still, itself, a fresh thought. It was everywhere, and had persisted since long before any mountain came to be. When the first civilizations of you ponies and the other sapients began to spring up across the Great Stone, languages changed and plants now grew at a pony's whim. When stone cities changed to those of wood, crystal, and metal, the meat of lesser mammals fell out of favour and more tribes came from where the Sun rises, but one thing that remained forever unchanged was the usage and study of magic."
"Where did magic come from?" Maud asked me.
"It was mere speculation and rumour amongst us mountains, but it is thought that the energy originated from deep within the heart of the Earth, where not even the Heated Ones can boast such lordship. Others still, assert it to be older than the stars themselves; the very fundamental building block of the cosmos. Perhaps the answer lies in between both of them."
“The most shrewd of minds wedges itself betwixt the boulder of curiosity, and the boulder of scepticism. That’s what grandfather always said. He always enjoyed pebbles with his ice cream.”
"Oh, indeed. Very astute! I officially like you, Maud of the Pie. We mountains can seldom ever say such things.”
Maud Pie gave the smallest glimmer of a smile in the direction of my snow-capped peaks. “Boulder and I should begin our trip back to Canterlot, now. Princess Celestia will want the samples I’ve collected for study to determine the integrity of your slopes,” she said.
“Of course, safe travels, Maud Pie, scholar of the Great Stone. Please send that upstart Smokey Mountain my regards from the Heartlands, and give the Princess of the Sun my warmest greetings and goodwill.”
“Thanks, and I will. Time to go, Boulder.” Putting Boulder back into a pocket of her garment and gathering up her equipment onto her back, the pony geologist began her gradual trek down my slopes and back to Canterlot, leaving me to my musings once again.
Gold. Ivory. Canterlot… Capital. Pony. Geologist. Maud… Awesome.
Author's Note
Because. 
