Marble and Limestone Pie lay on floor rugs at opposite sides of the hearth. They had the house to themselves and could have sat anywhere, including the comfortable seats normally reserved for their parents. But the girls felt most comfortable curled up on the floor in front of the fire, especially on a stormy night. It had been that way since they were small.
The tranquility inside the house was a sharp contrast to the storm raging outside. The Pies who first settled the farm took important things such as homes very seriously; an attitude they passed on to later generations of Pies, mostly. The house was built like a fortress.
Within their cozy sanctuary the sisters could barely hear the roar of the storm over the crackling of the fire.
When something happened outside that was loud enough to hear this came as a shock.
Both ponies’ ears shot up at the sound of the crash. Limestone barely managed to hold on to the accounting work she was going over. She carefully set the sheaf of receipts down away from the fire.
Marble shrieked, and the Daring Donovel she was reading flew from her hooves and landed on the far side of the room.
“Was that our…?” began Limestone. Before she could say ‘windmill’ there was a distinctly metallic clatter from above. Apparently, the windmill blades had flown off and landed on the roof.
Limestone dashed to the front door. She’d only opened it a crack when the wind pushed the door in, almost smacking her in the face. Peering through the sheets of driving rain and sleet Limestone could barely make out the steel frame tower of the windmill. It was still standing, though it was missing its top. It definitely wouldn’t be running the pump they needed to keep the quarry from flooding.
Something bright blue was laying at the base of the tower. It took Limestone a moment before she realized it was a pony.
“Marble, we have to…” Limestone looked back to see her sister already standing right behind her, holding both of their rain coats. Throwing on their rain gear they dashed out into the storm.
The pony lay very still, but he seemed to be breathing normally and none of his limbs were obviously broken. His lips moved, but over the noise of the storm neither mare could tell if he was trying to speak or just moaning.
The bright blue that had caught Limestone’s eye turned out to be a tight fitting coverall the stranger wore. This was lucky for him. Through many tears in the suit they could see that his coat was actually smoke gray. Without the suit Limestone was certain they wouldn’t have seen him until sunrise.
He was a pegasus, but unlike any the sisters had ever met. They had never seen a bat pony before.
Limestone knelt beside the stranger and shouted. “Marble, help me roll him onto my back!”
She couldn’t hear her sister’s answer, but Limestone understood the concerned look Marble shot her. “I know! It’s dangerous to move an injured pony! But it’ll be worse to leave him out here, so help me get him inside!”
Marble nodded. Working together they were able to move the stranger with a minimum of jostling. They soon had him inside, and resting on the floor near the hearth. While his coveralls were badly torn they looked repairable, and they also looked expensive. The garment was certainly custom fitted. The frugal Pie sisters decided to at least try to remove the coveralls without cutting them off. To their surprise they succeeded with very little tugging, despite the tight fit. It helped that Marble and Limestone were both very strong, and the stranger was small and lightly built.
Once out of his sodden clothes they just needed to towel the stranger dry, then get him a pillow and a warm quilt. He muttered in his sleep as he rested comfortably, and Limestone made a mental note of everything he said.
Watching the stranger sleep it struck Limestone that there was something childlike about him. It wasn’t just his stature. Limestone was on the short side herself, and nopony would ever compare her to a filly.
“My Gosh, you are beautiful!” gasped Limestone. She immediately blushed with shock that she’d said it aloud, and silently berated herself for not holding her tongue. Limestone knew enough about stallions to know one wouldn’t appreciate being called ‘beautiful.’ But handsome just wasn’t the right word. He was beautiful.
Limestone heard Marble behind her, rummaging in the closet. She turned to see her sister shrugging on a raincoat. It was not Marble’s own dark purple coat, it was their father’s high visibility orange jacket.
“Oh, no!” declared Limestone. “Whatever you have planned, you just stop right there, Filly!”
“Nnn-nuhn,” answered Marble. She turned and started for the front door.
“Don’t you turn your back on me! And don’t you just hum at me. You use your words. We need to talk about this.”
Marble frown, but she also nodded agreement. This was important enough for even her to speak out loud. “Mmh-hmm. I’m going to run and catch the train to get help.”
“No, not in this storm!” Limestone stomped her hooves. “Anyway, the only train before morning is the express from Canterlot. It won’t stop at Holder Station.”
“Nnn-nuhn,” said Marble. “The crew are all friends of Daddy’s. They’ll stop for me.”
Limestone looked at a mantle clock. “You’ll never get there in time.”
“Mmh-hmm. I’m fast enough.”
“Mother and Father left me in charge, and being in charge means not letting my little sister run through any storms! They taught me better than that.”
“Nnn-nuhn. They left you in charge of the farm, they left me in charge of me. And they taught us to do what’s right, and do it the best way you can. You’re the smart one and you know about concussions and stuff, so you have to stay and tend to him. I’m faster, so I have to go meet the train. I gotta run now.” Marble went to the door.
Limestone couldn’t defeat her sister’s logic. “Please, Inky, don’t go!”
Marble stopped at the open door. “You’re the only one who calls me ‘Inky.’ I never liked it.” Then she was gone.
Limestone ran to the open door and screamed, “Yeah? Well, if I had any friends they’d all call me Blinky!” But Marble was already far away, and couldn’t possibly hear.
Limestone shoved the door closed, and turned back to her patient. She grumbled, “I don’t actually know that much.” If his injuries were going to kill him she wasn’t going to be the pony who saved him, and Limestone did not like being left alone with that responsibility. However, if he wasn’t dying then there were some things she could do for him.
Limestone started a kettle for white willow bark tea. If he woke up, the stranger was going to wake up with a nasty headache, and the tea was the best pain relief Limestone had to offer him. Then she gathered up supplies she needed, and went back to clean the stranger’s wounds.
He was covered with scrapes, bruises, and little cuts. None of these were serious, and few of them were on his chest or abdomen. When the stranger had tumbled into whatever he’d hit he must have tucked in his legs to protect his vital organs. Limestone suspected that he had been trained to do this.
While she was best known for her ability to apply brute force, Limestone was also capable of a very light touch. She had been preparing gems since she was old enough to wield a hammer and chisel with a steady hoof. In all that time she had never damaged the valuable stones, she’d never even scratched one. As Limestone carefully ministered to her patient he continued to murmur in his sleep. He never cried out, and Limestone took this to mean she wasn’t hurting him. Actually, he almost sounded as if he was enjoying the attention. Limestone dismissed this as just her imagination.
The worst wounds were at his head. There were two of these. The first had already stopped bleeding and begun to dry. Limestone cleaned a bit of what she thought was bark out of that one. The other wound was fresher, and no doubt happened when the stranger hit their windmill. It had also stopped bleeding, though the scalp around the wound was swollen and discolored. Limestone continued to probe, but found no more injuries. The stranger’s hair was very soft. He wore his russet and blonde mane in a very severe military flat top. If the haircut was meant to make the baby faced stranger look more butch it failed completely. Limestone grinned at the idea, then frowned. She understood being overly severe in an effort to be taken seriously. She didn’t think it worked for her either.
Limestone drew her leg back with a start when she realized she had continued to run the tip of her hoof through his mane far longer than need be to examine him. This was inappropriate. But she couldn’t help herself.
“You are so beautiful,” gasped Limestone. Then she was furious with herself, just for thinking it, let alone saying it aloud again.
His wings were a wonder. Limestone did not know many pegasi, and she certainly didn’t know any well enough to ever be touching their wings, but it was still obvious that this bat pony’s wings were very different. There were so many little bones! Limestone set a hoof flat against a wing so she could feel it with her frog, the sensitive part of her hoof. She gently ran her hoof over the wing, tracing out the bones. None of them seemed to be broken. Apparently the stranger, delicate seeming wings and all, was sturdier than he looked. Limestone smiled at this. It was a quality she appreciated in other ponies.
She’d done all she could for her patient. It was frustrating, but there it was. There was nothing left to do but watch him.
Since she had the time Limestone decided to give some thought to the who this mysterious stranger was and what had happened to him. She didn’t have many clues.
There were his blue coveralls. Limestone was familiar with the Wonderbolts, as they performed at several of the same fairs where she’d gone to trade shows. This uniform was different. Where the Wonderbolts had their iconic lightning bolt at the barrel this suit had a pair of silver wings. Limestone knew there were more flying groups in Equestria than the Wonderbolts. She’d even seen such a group once. They were the Dodge County Community College ROTC Cherry Bombs. The Bombs were terrible. They were probably the worst fliers in Equestria, and because of this they actually had something of a following among ponies who loved to cheer for an underdog. Limestone was a bit of a closet Bombs fan herself. However, their team colors were pink and green. The stranger was definitely not a Cherry Bomb.
The stranger had also worn a small flank pack. When Limestone unzipped it empty candy wrappers burst out. The wrappers all bore a generic looking stamp, “High Energy Fruit Like Snack”. There were more empties than Limestone cared to count, and only one uneaten candy left. So, the stranger had a sweet tooth. Limestone frowned, as this reminded her of her sister Pinkie. She promised herself she would try to be fair, and not hold it against him.
There was also a little pin, that had been at the breast of the suit. It was a stylized silver wing, chased with gold and set with a single turquoise stone. Limestone could make nothing of it.
The stranger’s final possession was a photograph. It was of a purple mare in a brand new ball gown, beaming for the camera. She wasn’t what would normally be considered a classic beauty. The mare was painfully thin, long of face, and perhaps a bit buck toothed. Limestone thought she was cute.
Her smile made her stunning. No pony could be that happy and not be stunning.
The mare’s only possible fault, as far as Limestone was concerned, was her mane. It was an explosive mass of poofy, orange curls; it reminded Limestone of her sister Pinkie. Limestone was prepared to forgive this. Pinkie’s mane was one of the few things about her that didn’t irritate Limestone.
On the back of the photo was scrawled “Frazzle, Royal Honors Night.”
Limestone had found the photo in a pocket sewn inside the stranger’s overalls. He would have worn it over his heart.
Limestone was overcome by a moment of irrational jealousy. Without being sure why, she opened the drawer of a cabinet and slide the photo inside to hide it.
Behind her, the stranger called out. “Wha? Wha?”
He had been murmuring aloud since she and Marble had brought him inside. But it now seemed that all his murmurs now took on the inflections of questions. He would no doubt wake up with many questions, and he was probably now struggling to reach consciousness.
Limestone decided to help him along. She lay down beside him and whispered in his ear, “If you can hear me, please know that you are in a safe place.”
The stranger seemed to grin, and said, “I am dreaming that a beautiful mare is whispering in my ear.”
Limestone blushed, and the heat at her cheeks exceeded that from the fireplace. She forged on. “Only part of that is true. You aren’t dreaming, and I’m not actually that…”
“What? Huh? Hey!” The stranger tried to sit up with a start.
Limestone gently pushed him back down. She was sure she could hold him with just a hoof on his breast bone.
“Stop that.” she whispered. “I know you are going to wake up disoriented. But I need you to stay calm and relaxed. I meant it when I said you were safe, and it’s important that you believe me. I can’t have you thrashing about”
The stranger’s smile seemed to turn into a wicked leer. “The beautiful mare now has me pinned to the floor. I wonder what comes next? Woo Hoo!”
Limestone recoiled, but still held him down. Between the embarrassment and her anger she could feel heat all the way to her hooves. “Since you’re hurt I’ll forgive that fresh remark this time. Just this time! Now lie still.”
“What? Wait, are you real? Oh, Ma’am, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry…!”
“Stop it, just stop it.” Limestone continued to hold him down. “Just be still. And when you think you’re calm enough, try to open your eyes.”
The stranger’s eyes did pop open, then closed, then slowly opened again. He focused on Limestone. “Hello, Ma’am. What’s your name?”
“I… I’m…” Limestone wasn’t expecting that. She was ready for ‘What happened?’ and ‘Where am I?’ but it never occurred to her that she’d rise to the fore of the stranger’s attention. To her complete surprise, she blurted, “My friends call me Blinky.”
“Blinky?” The stranger stared at her. “Okay. It doesn’t fit you, but okay. Hello, Blinky. Thank you for rescuing me.”
“You’re welcome.” Limestone struggled to come up with the next thing to say. “I guess we both have a lot of questions. It’s my turn. What’s your name?”
“I…” the stranger began, then stopped dead. “I don’t know. I can’t remember.”
“Here, this will help with your headache.” Limestone offered the stranger a mug of tea. “Sip it slowly.”
“Thanks.” He took the mug gratefully, and held it tightly between his front hooves as a drank. He seemed to appreciate the warmth.
“You were outside in the cold for a while, weren’t you?” asked Limestone.
“Yeah, I must have been.” He did not sound at all certain.
“Does it hurt anywhere, besides your head?” Limestone was still worried she hadn’t found and tended to all of his injuries.
“Actually, I ache all over.” He took another sip of tea. “But I don’t think it’s from the crash. It feels more like the end of a long day. You know, that good ache from a hard day’s work? Do you know what I mean?”
“Yes, I am familiar with that feeling,” said Limestone. It was a bit of an understatement. “You’re sore, but it’s because you earned it. It’s satisfying.”
“Yeah,” agreed the stranger. “I just wish I knew what I’ve done to deserve it.”
“So you don’t remember anything at all?”
The stranger began to shake his head, then stopped himself when it hurt. “Nothing comes to me.”
“You still had your memories before you came to. You were talking in your sleep,” said Limestone. “Do you remember any of that?”
He chuckled. “The last thing I remember was the pretty mare whispering in my ear.”
Limestone glared at him. “Don’t start in with that. I don’t want to hear about this dream mare of yours!”
“Are you sure?” He grinned. “Actually, except for her purple coat she looked a lot like you, Blinky.”
“I have warned you already not to be fresh with me,” snapped Limestone. Of course his dream mare is purple, she thought, just like his mare friend from the photo. But...wait… “You think I’m pretty?”
“I cannot answer that honestly without sounding fresh.” His grin broadened. Then he winced, as it actually hurt a bit. His smile soon returned, however, though a little more faintly. “I do hope you won’t take offense, as I cannot formally deny it.”
Limestone ran hoof through her mane. She was grateful the room did not have a mirror, otherwise she was afraid she would start preening. Stop it, Girl! She ordered herself. You’re acting like a school filly. You’ve never let a stallion turn you head like this before.
Of course she had never met a stallion like this before.
“I honestly can say, without fear of contradiction, that you are the prettiest mare I remember meeting, Blinky.”
“Very funny.” Despite her sarcastic response Limestone checked her mane again. And the little voice in her head cried out, The mare in the photo, he doesn’t remember her! She should have regretted this as soon as the thought popped into her head, but she didn’t. Instead it filled her with hope.
Marble Pie galloped along a narrow path through dense forest. The trees provided the first cover she’d had since leaving their farmhouse, and it felt wonderful to be out of the terrible wind. Better still, the woods were the last leg of her run to the train station. She was going to make it in time to meet the train and flag them down. She would succeed in her mission.
Marble smiled faintly.
Something huge swooped down on her, tackling her and pinning her down with her back against the ground. It stood over her, it’s sharp talons gripping her by the shoulders, and completely covered her. It brought it’s face so close to hers that it’s beak poked her on the snout. That stung!
All Marble could see was a pair of wild eyes, framed by black feathers. There was nothing else in her field of view.
Her attacker screamed in Marble’s face. “Why did you ambush us?! Who are you working for?! Is it the Yaks?! Griffonstone?! The Saddle Arabians?! Where are the rest of you?! Who sent you?!”
“Wahhhhhhhh!!!” wailed Marble.
“Would you be more comfortable in a proper bed?” asked Limestone. “My folk’s bedroom is just down the hall.”
“I’m very cozy right here,” said the stranger. He carefully turned his head towards the fire, enjoying the heat on his face. “Um, where is ‘right here,’ anyway?"
“You’re at the Pie Family rock farm.”
“Rock farm?”
Limestone frowned. She did not feel like explaining the details of petriculture just that moment; it irritated her that most ponies had to ask. “We likely aren’t on any map you might have seen. Holder Station might be, if the map’s detailed enough. The nearest town is Ponyville.”
“Ponyville?” He closed his eyes, and seemed to be trying to remember something, then repeated it. “Ponyville.”
“Ponyville does seem to be important to you,” said Limestone. “You called out a couple of times that you needed to get there. You had to make it on time for ‘the last hand off.’”
“Hand off?” mused the stranger. “I was in relay race?”
“Try to remember. You also said, ‘Then on to Manehattan, and home in time for Hearts and Hooves Day.’” Limestone almost cringed when she said this. Shut up, just shut up! That holiday is the last thing you want to remind him of!
“Huh.” He took another sip from his mug, then closed his eyes and settled back with a sigh. The tea seemed to be doing it’s job of soothing his headache. “I can’t recall having any special plans for Hearts and Hooves Day.”
“That’s too bad,” said Limestone, hoping her relief didn’t show. Now change the subject. “If you have anypony waiting to meet you in Ponyville we’ll get word to them soon. In a couple of hours if my sister can catch the train, in the morning if she can’t.”
“Your sister went out in this storm?”
“One us had to, she won the argument.” Limestone hung her head. It still hurt to have Marble out there.
“Why are we even having this storm, anyway?” The stranger frowned, possibly unsure why he found this puzzling. “Did something go wrong at Weather Control?”
Limestone shook her head. “We’re very close to the Everfree Forest. Freak storms rise out of there, and it’s too dangerous to bust them up. It’s better to let them burn themselves out. The worst part of them gets diverted around population centers like Ponyville. Out here we count on them to fill the watershed, so normally we’re happy to have the storm.” They also normally had a working pump to keep the quarry from flooding, but Limestone didn’t feel it was necessary to burden the stranger with that detail.
“It’s that remote here?”
Limestone nodded. Then she snapped, “And I’m painfully aware that I’ve admitted to being a mare all alone with you, with no help near-by. I hope you’ll behave yourself anyway.”
“Absolutely,” he declared. “I am an office and a gentlecolt, or at least it feels like I might be. Even if I’m not, I intend to conduct myself honorably just to be on the safe side.”
“That’s good of you.”
“The safe side would be on your good side. I’m pretty sure you can take me.”
Limestone laughed. She couldn’t remember the last time a stallion had made her laugh. Had a stallion ever made her laugh? “You also mentioned a pair of names while you slept. Who is Gus?”
He shrugged. “I feel as if I should know, but I don’t. What’s the other name?"
Limestone hesitated. The other name was ‘Frazzle,’ the name written on the back of the photo. Finally, she answered. “I don’t know, I didn’t quite catch it.”
Marble’s attacker jumped off her and backed away, actually recoiling from her hysterics.
“Stop that! Stop it, stop crying! You’re confusing me! You’re not acting like a soldier at all!”
“Wahhhh!” Marble carried on with renewed fervor.
“You aren’t a soldier at all, are you? You certainly aren’t any sort of assassin.”
“Hmm-mmm,” Marble managed to respond.
She blinked her eyes to clear the tears and got her first real look at her attacker. He was a griffon. His blue overalls were even more in tatters than those of the bat pony the sisters had rescued. Except for his face and wings his plumage was apparently orange. Bright orange. Marble could see it despite the darkness.
“You’re just a slip of a filly,” he told Marble.
“Hmm,” she answered. Even through her panic she was a bit insulted to be dismissed as just a filly.
He began to pace in a circle, waving his wings wildly as if gesturing with them. He shook his head vigorously, then stopped himself. He staggered a bit, as if it made him dizzy. “You didn’t attack us. Were we attacked at all? Could it have just been bad weather?”
“Hmm?” Marble did not feel she should comment.
“I think I may not be thinking very clearly.”
“Hmm.” Marble agreed with the griffon completely, but he felt it was best to remain non-committal. She didn’t want to upset him.
The griffon went to Marble and offered her a talon. “Here, let me help you up. My name’s Gus, by the way.”
“Let me show you something,” said Limestone. She retrieved the stranger’s coveralls and brought them to him.
“My flight suit!” The bat pony seemed stricken. “Wow, I really did a number on it!”
“Mother and I can repair it. It will never be as good as new, but you should be surprised.”
“Thank you.” He reached out and poked a hoof tip through one of the holes in the garment. “I still hope I’m issued a new one.”
“I don’t recognize the design,” said Limestone. “You aren’t a Wonderbolt, are you?”
“No, Ma’am!” declared the bat pony. “Turquoise Angels, and proud of it, thank you very much!”
Limestone raised an eyebrow quizzically at his reaction. “Turquoise Angels? Where are they based?”
“The Equestrian Flight Academy at Mustang Springs. That’s in Colorodeo Territory.”
“Good. What else do you remember?”
“Remember? But I don’t…” He began to sputter from confusion. “How did I..? Hey! Blinky, are you laughing at me?”
Limestone couldn’t hide her grin any longer. “No, I’m not laughing at you. I’m just very pleased that I figured it out.”
“What are you talking about? What just happened?”
“That was a knee jerk reaction, you answered automatically,” explained Limestone. “I have a feeling you may have had to explain that you aren’t a Wonderbolt a time or two.”
He shrugged, then answered sheepishly, “I get asked that a lot. When you’re number two you have to try harder."
Limestone nodded. “The good news is you still have all your memories. You just can’t get at them properly. If I can trick you into answering without thinking then things should start trickling back to you.”
“Oh.” He sounded impressed. “That’s very clever. But how do you do that?”
“I have a plan,” was all Limestone said. Maybe, if I ask enough stupid questions he’ll start correcting me automatically. Unfortunately, I’m not the family member best suited for asking a lot of stupid questions. It would be difficult, but Limestone was afraid she would have to try and think like her sister Pinkie.
She pointed to you flight suit. “On the front, there on the right, it says ‘Skipper.’ Is that your rank?”
He actually laughed. “No, I’m a cadet. We don’t use the rank ‘Skipper.’ Normally, that’s where they put the embarrassing nickname a flier picks up during basic training, but I never got a one. I guess everypony thought my real name was embarrassing enough, especially for a little pretty boy like me.”
“Your name is Skipper?”
“Yes, that’s me… Wow!” He gasped. He stared at Limestone in utter amazement before going on. “My name is Skipper. Star Skipper.”
Limestone beamed at him. “It’s nice to meet you, Skipper."
“The pleasure is all mine, Blinky.”
