With Winona straining forward on her leash, Apple Bloom dug her hooves in and tugged back, but that crazy dog wouldn’t listen. She rarely did, at least not to anypony but Applejack, who’d gotten herself too deep into yet another argument with Rainbow Dash to pay attention.
“I won, fair and square,” Applejack said, her nose turned up.
“Fair!?” Dash retorted. “How’s a tortoise supposed to zip through an agility course?”
“Then why’d you sign him up for it?”
Dash only grumbled and crossed her forelegs as she flitted along with the group.
“Aww, don’t feel bad, Dashie!” Pinkie Pie said from the top of one of her bounces. “That was the secondest finish I ever saw!”
“Um… thanks?” Dash replied, scratching her head.
“No problemo! It’s so super fantastic bombastic that Tank beat all those other pets! (No offense, Gummy.)” The alligator just stared straight ahead, his nose sticking out from Pinkie’s mane and his body lost in the hidden dimensions of all those curls.
So if AJ was done bragging…
“Little help, Sis?” Apple Bloom mumbled over the mouthful of leash, and with her grip loosened that last bit, Winona broke free and scampered away. “Winona!” she yelled, but the dog had long since tuned her out.
At least now Applejack started to listen. “Git back here, girl!” she shouted, but Winona had already bounded across the bridge to Fluttershy’s cottage and pounced on her, covering her face in kisses.
Good thing Fluttershy didn’t mind.
“Goodness!” she said, giggling and scratching behind Winona’s ears before getting enough maneuvering room to pull a dog treat out of her saddlebag. “Now, sit!”
Winona sat stock-still, except for her furiously wagging tail and lolling tongue. Fluttershy kept her waiting a minute, which was not a smart strategy if she didn’t want to be licked to death again, but just before Winona lost control, Fluttershy tossed the dog biscuit to her.
“Thank you, girls, for helping out with my pet show,” Fluttershy said. “It went very well, and after everypony saw what your pets could do, I think a lot will come over and adopt critters of their own!”
Rarity emerged from inside the cottage and eyed Winona until she saw the dog was otherwise occupied. Then she unfurled a banner and levitated it up to hang across the yard. Apple Bloom squinted one eye at it and glanced at her sister. “What’s a ‘slightly irregular’ pet?”
“You know,” AJ said, “like one o’ them shirts that has a bad stitch, so it’s on the clearance rack.”
In no time at all, Dash had popped over by the small corral and leaned over the fence to point. “Like that cricket missing a leg.”
Grinning madly, Pinkie jumped right into the middle of all the animals. “A myopic marmoset! Perpetually pooped pangolin! Club-footed capybara! Hearing-impaired Gila monster!”
Pinkie’s enthusiasm generally was hard to resist—Apple Bloom left Winona to AJ’s care and sidled over by Pinkie.
“They all deserve good homes, too,” Fluttershy said with a gentle smile.
“What about this one?” Apple Bloom asked her. She jabbed a hoof toward a snake coiled against the fencepost.
“Hith,” it said.
Fluttershy waved a hoof. “Oh, him? That little guy has a lisp.”
Immediately, Apple Bloom rushed over to him, but he ducked his head in between two of his coils and peeked out, his tongue flicking. “Aww, he’s a cutie! Can I get him, Sis?”
Applejack coughed and scratched her neck. “I… I s’pose. He’d keep the mice away from the silo, I guess. Just… when Twilight comes ’round the farm, don’t let him anywhere near her, y’hear?”
With a rapid nod, Apple Bloom scooped him up and carried him over to Fluttershy. The poor thing stayed all wrapped up in a ball, but he did peek out again once he heard Fluttershy’s voice.
“I’ll tell you what,” she said as the snake slithered onto her back and hid in her mane. “You talk it over with your family, and I’ll hold onto him for a couple days. If it’s still okay, I’ll help acclimate him to you. Alright?”
“Thanks, Fluttershy!” Apple Bloom said. She’d lean in for a hug, but the snake seemed scared enough already. No need to spook him any more, and at least he’d started to unknot himself, but… what in the world was Rarity staring at?
Apple Bloom glanced behind her to see, and—
“Maud!”
She broke into a gallop and nearly tackled Maud, who finally looked down at the filly latched onto her legs. No way! When did—?
Apple Bloom whirled on Pinkie and hopped up and down. “Why didn’t you tell me Maud was coming for a visit?”
But before Pinkie could answer, Rarity poked her head around the corner of the banner. “I didn’t realize you knew Maud, darling.”
“Yeah!” Apple Bloom shouted, rushing up to give Maud a hug. “We visited the rock farm last Hearth’s Warming, and we had lotsa fun!”
And there went Rarity again, not paying attention. Her jaw dropped as she stared at the box on Maud’s back. “What are those?”
A faint blue glow shone from inside, and Maud blinked once before glancing at it. At least they could see in—being short was good for a few things, but not many. “Pinkie told me about this event,” Maud said with another blink. “Pure corundum is colorless. Iron and titanium impurities can turn it blue, and I didn’t want these little guys feeling too self-conscious about it, so I thought I might find them an understanding home here.”
Rarity managed to close her gaping jaw. “S-sapphires?”
Maud nodded her head. At least Apple Bloom thought she did. It was always hard to tell with her.
“I think I could open my doors to such a treasure trove of sweet dears,” Rarity said, her eyes practically glinting as much as the gems. Beside her, Applejack stifled a giggle, and Rainbow Dash looked like she might pop.
“Thank you so much,” Maud droned as Rarity levitated the box of sapphires toward herself. “Your compassion knows no bounds.”
Apple Bloom could only shake her head, but then she poked Maud in the shoulder. “Hey! We should hang out today!”
Maud’s chiseled face turned slowly toward her. “I have a few errands I want to get done as long as I’m here. You’re welcome to accompany me.”
“Yes!” Apple Bloom shouted. Then she grinned as her cheeks got uncomfortably warm. “I mean, can you watch Winona for me, Sis?” After a second’s pause, Applejack grinned and nodded.
Apple Bloom made another lap around the library’s shelf of graphic novels, but her favorite series still hadn’t updated, same as her first ten trips past. So she headed back over to the science section. “Whatcha doin’?” she asked as she glanced up the ladder at Maud. From this angle, she…
Wow, she could see Maud’s cutie mark! Funny, she’d never really thought about it before. But yeah, a gray diamond. That seemed just right. Not that she made a habit of looking up mares’ dresses.
Her cheeks blazed again even as she took another peek. It wasn’t like most ponies bothered with clothes anyway, so no big deal. No big deal, she repeated in her head, except Maud always had that thing on, so how else was a pony supposed to see her cutie mark? Well, short of asking, she guessed…
“Hm?” Maud finally replied, looking down, and Apple Bloom quickly diverted her gaze and took a sudden interest in a book on the bottom shelf, one about… wing preening. Yeah.
“Whatcha lookin’ for?”
After flipping through a couple more pages, Maud said, “I’m investigating the local mineralogy. The Bureau of Mines wants to know whether an old abandoned zinc mine could be opened again.”
“Oh, jeez, don’t say that around Pinkie.”
One of Maud’s eyebrows arched.
So Apple Bloom huffed a quick sigh. “Twilight said ‘zinc’ once, and Pinkie spent the rest of the day repeating it and giggling, over and over again.” And she added an eye roll. No telling what would set off Pinkie’s funny bone.
Right there! One of the corners of Maud’s mouth turned up, just a skosh. “I know,” she said. “It does sound a little funny. I used to remind her of it, when we were fillies, on Saturdays. To do her laughing exercises.”
Yeah, that sounded like Pinkie.
“If you think that’s bad,” Maud added, “try mentioning molybdenum to her. Or”—a little flinch sure made it look like Maud had a laugh trapped about an inch behind her nose—“Widgiemoolthalite.”
“Hee hee!” Apple Bloom said, holding a hoof to her muzzle. “Some of those’d be silly even to the rest of us!”
“Indeed.” Maud snapped her book shut and climbed back down the ladder. “I see no records of additional zinc deposits when the ore was analyzed, but the tests were performed so long ago that they might not have known what to look for. The miners probably only cared to see if they’d exhausted all the ruby jack.”
Apple Bloom bounced up on her hooftips. “Ooh, is she related to Applejack?”
Wait, did Maud roll her eyes or smile a bit or… something? Yeah, a little of both! Apple Bloom was… Apple Bloom was learning to read her!
Like throwing the barn door wide open and letting the sunlight reach all the dark corners, everything became so clear. How’d she miss all that before?
Anyway, Maud had finished chuckling, a slight thing anypony could easily miss, but now it stood out, plain as day. “No, ruby jack is a mineral, a variety of Sphalerite.”
“Heh. That’s a funny name, too!”
“When the miners didn’t see any traces of red left, they must have given up on the ore vein, but there might still be less-noticeable zinc deposits.” All business, Maud headed straight for the exit—
Straight for the poetry section?
Apple Bloom scampered after Maud as she made a beeline for a particular book, her eyes trained on it the whole way, and once she got there, she started rapidly flipping through pages. “Oh… uh, catchin’ up on a bit o’ reading?” Apple Bloom asked.
“Looking for a few ideas,” Maud said with a nod.
“That where they keep the rock poetry?” Up on her tippy-hooves, Apple Bloom peered over Maud’s shoulder, but… Maud turned away to… to keep the book hidden?
Maud watched Apple Bloom out of the corner of her eye for a moment, then with a barely detectable sigh, she gave a Maud-grin and held the page out for Apple Bloom to see. It had… nothing to do with rocks.
Instead, a series of short verses poured down the paper, all about the moon, the beauty of the night, and the comforting blanket of darkness. Something like… Apple Bloom stirred around her brain for a second. Had Rarity called them nocturnes before? Something like that. Anyway, it struck her as so peaceful that she couldn’t help but sag as she read.
“That’s… beautiful,” Apple Bloom said. “I didn’t know you liked that kind of stuff!”
Another short pause while Maud rolled her eyes a teeny bit to the side. “I consider my rock poems to be more professional, but I like to indulge once in a while. When I get ravaged by stress, it helps me return to a tranquil state.”
“You must think a lot of Princess Luna, then.”
“Well… I like the moon, because it’s unblemished rock. And I like the darkness, because some minerals show photoreactivity, pleochroism, and—”
Apple Bloom held up a hoof. “Hang on. Ya lost me.”
The flat line of Maud’s mouth bent up slightly, and her eyes sparkled. “Light can change things. The darkness lets the rocks be whatever they are.”
“Oh, cool!” Apple Bloom replied, beaming at Maud. “You ever write any poems like this?”
Maud stared back. Finally, she uttered a quiet “yes,” but before Apple Bloom could respond, Maud replaced the book on the shelf, and trotted for the exit. “I need to complete my investigation of the mine. You’re welcome to accompany me,” she said.
So Apple Bloom followed.
They’d long since lost sight of the tiny spot of daylight behind them. How Maud could see in this dark was anypony’s guess, but she finally flicked on the lamp mounted on her hardhat and turned down the next side tunnel on the left.
“The richest vein was this way,” she said.
And for another five minutes, nothing but bland gray passed by.
No! Apple Bloom would have pinched herself if she didn’t need both forelegs to trot. Ever since last Hearth’s Warming, she’d learned how sweet and fascinating Maud could be. Everypony else overlooked her as bland. Well, most ponies. Too bad for them—they were missing out on so much!
“Maud…”
Just ahead, Maud stopped and raised a hoof. They’d reached the end.
Maud peered closely all over the rock face—looking for some of that red jack stuff, Apple Bloom guessed. But no red in sight, not that she could see, anyway.
That didn’t stop Maud. She sniffed at the wall, took a taste, then a careful bite, chewing it slowly. Then again in another spot before tapping a hoof to her chin.
“Maud…”
Maud wrinkled her nose. “Inconclusive. It would have been quicker if I could have told from that. We’ll have to wait a little for the next test.” She beckoned Apple Bloom over and pointed out some slightly reflective parts of the rock, kind of clear, white, and gray.
“Quartz?” Apple Bloom asked.
“Maybe. I could take some back for analysis. But I’d like an answer today, if possible. If my suspicions are right…”
Maud turned her light off, and a huge green blob sat right in the middle of everything for Apple Bloom. “I knew the mine was too deep to go in without a light, but now we have to wait for our eyes to adjust. It should take about fifteen minutes before you stop seeing the lamplight’s afterimage.”
Okay… Apple Bloom nodded, but of course Maud couldn’t see her. Or maybe she could? She’d navigated in the dark pretty well, and she seemed to like the night. Hm. Maybe that meant her eyes were even more sensitive to light, and she might have to wait longer.
So Apple Bloom just sat there, opening and closing her eyes to see if anything looked different between the two. After a few minutes, Maud spoke: “You wanted to ask me something, I think.”
“Yeah. Um…” Apple Bloom breathed out sharply. “Do you ever feel like ponies don’t give you a fair shake?”
“No.”
“But… there’s a lot to you that most of ’em don’t get to see. Like you’re a hidden gem.”
“That’s alright.”
“That’s my thing, y’know: finding what’s hidden. Talents, anyway.”
“So Pinkie tells me. It sounds interesting. You must find it very rewarding work to help ponies get their cutie marks.”
“Yeah. But sometimes I get to do something even cooler. Sometimes I help ponies who already have a cutie mark understand it better.”
“…I understand.”
If only Apple Bloom could glimpse her face. She didn’t want to pry, but… “You didn’t answer my question about Princess Luna.”
“That’s not a talent.”
“I know, but… doesn’t that work for me, too? I think I have some hidden abilities at times. Like knowin’ just how to make Applejack mad, or the right amount o’ nutmeg to put on Granny Smith’s apple tarts, the way Big Macintosh likes ’em.”
A hoof scraped against bare rock nearby, and the silence drew on for over a minute. “Yes, I look up to Princess Luna. I appreciate her night, and I understand her introspective nature.”
“And that’s why you like them poems about it?”
“Yes, but…”
The green blob had nearly died away, and once it left, Maud might not feel like talking anymore. But if Apple Bloom prodded, Maud would likely go quiet as a barn mouse. So she waited.
“You can’t tell anypony about this.”
“Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye!”
Maud actually let out a little snuffle of a laugh.
“I said my rock poetry was more professional. But… I’ve also written poetry for Princess Luna. It’s not very good.”
“Can I… can I hear some?”
Another long minute stretched by with only soft breath echoing through the tunnel. “I think our eyes are ready now.”
“I don’t mind. I like the dark, too. Ever since I was a toddler, I never wanted a nightlight or nothin’.”
It must have been close to dinnertime by now, but Apple Bloom couldn’t have felt more content right there.
“O Night…” Maud barely coughed, and her voice trembled so slightly that maybe even Pinkie wouldn’t have noticed.
“O Night, bring to the earth
The enchanting calm of your mystery.
The shadow which follows you is so sweet.
It is such a sweet concert, your voices chanting hope.
Your power is so great, transforming all into a dream.
“O Night, o leave still to the earth
The enchanting calm of your mystery.
The shadow which follows you is so sweet.
Is there anything more beautiful than a dream?
Is there any truth sweeter than hope?”
Pure darkness. No trace of light remained, no spark left from their journey out of the day or the harsh lamp. And Apple Bloom’s lip quivered.
“That’s wonderful, Maud.”
“It’s nice of you to say so.”
“No, I—look, I know what your rock poems mean to you. They’re a source o’ pride, and nopony understands pride quite like an Apple. We know a lot about our orchards, but unless we come across somepony else who knows as much, they just won’t get it or… or even wanna hear about it. But that was beautiful, and I think it’d touch a lot o’ folks—”
“I can’t share that with anypony else.”
“I didn’t… Most ponies couldn’t tell the kind of passion you put in your rock poems. But they could tell with that. Ponies deserve to know how amazin’ you are, in ways they can understand!”
Maud shifted and unbuckled her saddlebag. “I’ll just get out the blacklight. If I’m right, we could see a few spots of green, so that’s why we needed to let the green afterimages dissipate.”
“I’m sorry, Maud. I don’t mean to push. But would you at least think about letting Princess Luna read that? I could introduce you to her.”
“We’ve met. She’s helped me in my dreams before.”
“I think it’d mean a lot to her. Even if it’s anonymous. We can have Spike tuck it in with his next letter to Canterlot.”
“I… I’ll think about it.” Maud rustled through her canvas bag for a moment. “And… thanks, Apple Bloom.”
With a click, violet light flooded the tunnel from the box in Maud’s hoof, and as Apple Bloom glanced at the wall—
Bright, brilliant green as intense as the sunlight, in flecks and streaks and hunks, all around them, like the starry sky lassoed down to where they could touch it. And a deep purplish blue—
“Right there,” Maud said, pointing at the same spot Apple Bloom had figured for quartz. It blazed fiercely, too, like a beacon. “When this place closed long ago, the miners didn’t know anything about fluorescence.”
“But now we can see what was hidden!” Apple Bloom chimed in.
“Yes. There’s still plenty of zinc left here. From the properties I’ve observed, these glowing minerals are both zinc silicate ores.” She did cast a small one-sided grin Apple Bloom’s way. The meaning hadn’t gotten lost on her.
“Say, Maud?” It was a long shot, but Apple Bloom had learned to trust her gut in matters of cutie marks.
“Hm?”
“Your cutie mark—” Apple Bloom nodded toward Maud’s hip “—it’s a gray diamond, right?”
With a blink, Maud glanced at her flank. Good thing she didn’t ask how Apple Bloom knew. Maybe Pinkie’d mentioned it once. Yeah.
“Yes, it is.”
Apple Bloom couldn’t contain her grin. “I don’t suppose diamonds are fluorescent?”
All Maud could do was stare back, her mouth hanging open and her eyes widening a smidge. “Fairly often,” she finally said, her eyes sparkling as if regarding somepony new and unexpected. Then she slowly hiked up the side of her dress and turned the blacklight toward her cutie mark.
It shone with a pure pale blue, gleaming into the stillness, shadows, and silence.
Neither one could take her eyes off it for a while, but once Maud did, she wore a smile that nopony could have missed. “You’re good at this.”
Apple Bloom giggled. “I think we found another hidden light.”
Maud had stopped by Sugarcube Corner to drop off her equipment, Apple Bloom tagging along behind. But as Apple Bloom turned right back around to leave, Maud headed for the stairs.
“Um… Maud?”
One hoof on the railing, Maud looked back.
“You know about the stargazing party Twilight’s throwin’, right? It’s in an hour. I thought it bein’ night and all, with the moon out, you might enjoy it.”
“I didn’t want to impose myself. After all, I didn’t receive an invitation.”
“O’ course not!” Apple Bloom broke into a huge smile. “They don’t get too crowded, so we never needed ’em. ’Sides, if you gotta have one, I’m invitin’ you!”
And with a smile Apple Bloom couldn’t mistake—at least not after today—Maud trotted back outside and gave Apple Bloom a “hey, what are you waiting for?” glance. So Apple Bloom caught up with her.
It didn’t take Maud long to notice Apple Bloom smiling up at her, but she only raised an eyebrow.
“Oh,” Apple Bloom said, “um, I bet you can see the stars real good at the rock farm. No city lights anywhere nearby.”
Maud just breathed out a tiny chuckle. “Not often. It’s hard to fit that into Limestone’s schedule. We have strict bedtimes so farming can start on time in the morning. At least it used to, before I left to pursue my studies, but whenever I visit, she puts me right back to work.”
“But you seem like somepony who’s got it together on your own. I was wonderin’—when your sister Limestone always says she’s in charge… Is she?” Their parents could still handle the place, and nopony ever slacked off, so why’d they even need her cracking the whip?
With a blink, Maud replied, “We humor her. It’s easier that way, and it doesn’t hurt anything. We don’t really need somepony in charge, but as leaders go, she isn’t a bad one.”
“So it’s just Limestone being Limestone? We say the same thing about Pinkie.”
This time, the little puff of laughter even came with a curl at the corner of Maud’s mouth. “And the rest of us too, no doubt. We make for an interesting family.”
For the rest of the walk to the castle, they didn’t speak, only enjoying the evening breeze and the clear starlight. But when they arrived at the castle grounds, on the side near the Everfree Forest and away from the town’s torches and lamps, Maud did stop at the table, where Spike was busy putting out pitchers of apple juice and bowls of popcorn.
“Spike,” she said, then stared at him until he’d stopped and looked up.
“Uh… yeah?” he answered, his eyes flicking back and forth between her and Apple Bloom.
“If I wrote something down for you, would you mind including it in your next note to the Princesses in Canterlot?”
“Sure!” he said with a quick smile, then tore a blank page out of a pad and grabbed a quill from an array of them on the next table, doubtless put there by Twilight for anypony wanting to take notes on their stargazing. “Write whatever it is you want to say to them, and I’ll slide it into a scroll.”
She… she was really going to do it?
“Oh… um, not me.” Maud tapped a hoof at the dirt, and her eyes drifted over to Apple Bloom. “Just something I heard that I thought Princess Luna might like.”
“Either way,” Spike said, setting the quill in front of her, “I’d be happy to!” Then he went back to his task as Maud scribbled out her… Well, it had to be that poem, right?
When she’d finished, she pushed it across the table and waited until Spike noticed, and he tucked it inside some folder of loose papers on top of the box of notepads on the ground. “I’ll have that in tomorrow’s letter,” he said with a salute.
“Thank you,” Maud replied. She did keep the quill, and she also took a blank notepad. So Apple Bloom followed her until she settled down on a bare patch of grass not too far from where Twilight had set up her telescope. She jotted down a few things after a brief look at the stars, but she wrote a lot more from peering at the dirt.
“You’ve been very responsible today,” Maud finally said, “certainly somepony worthy of trusting with a pet.”
Apple Bloom immediately flung a hoof toward Applejack, unpacking another crate of cider over at her wagon. “Tell that to my sister!”
Maud definitely smiled. “I will.” She kept watching, though, and just when Apple Bloom was about to ask—Maud nodded toward her cutie mark where it lay concealed beneath her dress. Even now, Apple Bloom could picture it, gleaming blue in the dusk for everypony to see. Everypony should see it—they all needed to know how awesome Maud was. But… only when she was ready.
“Thank you, too, Apple Bloom.” Then Maud went back to scrawling in her notepad, but Apple Bloom did nestle up to her side.
Most ponies wouldn’t have noticed, but Apple Bloom saw a big smile, as clear as day.
Author's Note
The words to Maud's poem aren't something I wrote myself, but I'd fallen to a common misconception about them. They're lyrics to a melody written by Jean-Philippe Rameau in his opera Hippolyte et Aricie. Well, I should have known he didn't write the lyrics, because it's pretty rare—usually the composer handles the music only and hires a librettist to write the lyrics. But this song isn't even from that opera. I've had trouble finding too much definite information, but sometime in the 20th century (I think in the 1960s), Joseph Noyon wrote a new harmonization of the original melody, and Edouard Sciortini wrote these lyrics. The song became somewhat popular after it was featured in the 2004 movie "Les Choristes."
