The mud was the worst part.
There had been nothing but hardship since yesterday, when this whole mess began. It had been quite an issue to begin with, dealing with the other ponies in town while they laughed at him behind his back. He did not care if everypony else told him he was hearing things; Serious KNEW they were mocking him. Not a single pony in the small hamlet he'd grown up in had ever believed there was gold in the mountains to the north; they were foal's tales, many would state.
Yet everything Serious had read and studied over the years told him there was SOMETHING up there - the conditions were too ripe for there to be no crop, so to speak. Yet still, they thought it was absurd for Black to sell his family's cottage and try to invest his entire life's savings in a 'pipe dream'; even the Mayor had told him so. He ground his jaw yet again, the old habit slightly comforting and familiar in the wilderness of the mountains.
Perhaps telling the Mayor that he was a jackaninny for not granting Serious the permits he wanted to start gold mining wasn't the brightest of ideas, but that old nag wouldn't know a sure thing if it flew down and bit him on the flank. And yes, flipping over the Mayor's desk and scattering his scrollwork might have been a bit extreme, but the fool hadn't even considered Serious' claim. And so what if he'd bucked the door off its' hinges as he'd left in a huff - he'd been angry, that was all... the Mayor had told him he was a raging idiot, yet Serious KNEW there was value in the rock here - he could practically taste it.
The air sometimes gave off the tiniest, faintest hint of what Serious considered to be 'the scent of money'; it was what his own grandfather would have followed right off a cliff, if that's what it took to get to the bits at the other end. It wasn't so much that the Blacks were known to be greedy... but you'd have an easier time asking a Hydra for a safe ride through the Everfree in it's mouth than you would have asking Serious Black for a loan. Of course, it hadn't even been mentioned that roughly half of the entire village had been built with supplies HIS family, himself included, had gathered and prepared - and most of that work had been for free... most of it.
Since his exile (because the Mayor didn't take well to his little display), Serious had found himself dealing with every single little irritation that Nature could have cooked up for him. The bugs had been merciless in the muggy summer heat, there had been roots that seemed to pull at his hooves, and the rain had seemed to center on his general area as if it had been tied to his tail. Still, he kept forging ahead, and he was determined that he would get his hooves on a chunk of gold, even the smallest sliver, so that he could go back to town and put it right under the Mayor's muzzle and laugh.
But the mud... it had been sucking at his hooves for miles, had gotten ground into his thick black coat, and had required thorough wiping from his face a few times, thanks to those puckish roots tripping him to the ground. Serious was in no way adverse to hard work - no Black worth their saltlick was lazy - but he did try to keep fastidiously clean... which the mud, in all its' mucky glory, was proving to be the downfall of all his efforts.
He growled uselessly at the wet dirt squelching underhoof with each slow, laborious step. The muscles in his legs burned, but the cool wet gunk under him did absolutely nothing to ease his troubles - in fact, it was almost as if Serious was taking every incidental slight as a personal affront to his existence.
Of course, Serious Black had always been a touch grouchy, even as a young age. He hadn't played with the other colts and fillies that were his peers, he hadn't been very social as he'd gotten to his adolescent years, and now as a young adult, he was more grumbly than ever. He was in full realization that he wasn't very friendly - and it suited him just fine; he had no aspirations to be any sort of social pillar. He didn't need friends anyway; they simply ended up asking for favors and speaking unkindly about you behind your flank.
When the raindrops began to spatter upon his neck again, he swore loudly - yet another habit that did nothing to endear him to the locals. If he was going to make it through yet another night on this sorry mountaintop, he knew he would have to find some form of shelter from the elements; he was already nursing a wet sniffle, and he didn't want to deal with anything worse than such.
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He had made it to the patch of land that he'd used his entire savings to invest in... and knew he'd been taken for a fool.
The shoddy map that had been drawn for him had been sold to Serious with the promise of a beautiful and idyllic spot; this clearing was between two mountain peaks - and looked as though it was nothing more than solid, rocky ground with a few scrub pines and absolutely NOsigns of hospitable reprieve. The amount of bits he'd paid for it was phenomenal - and the actual land itself was considerably less than such.
Again, Serious swore, his loud outburst scaring a number of lollygagging birds into taking wing. With a resigned sigh, he untied and dropped his pack; for better or worse, the land belonged to HIM now, and he was determined that he would find SOME sort of use for the place... after all, he was bound and set against the idea of simply giving up; wouldn't be anything left to do but die, if he did. His own father and siblings had all passed, one by one, into the realm of death... and he'd never known his mother; she'd given her own life for his at birth. But this was long ago, and a burden he'd borne for years - it was hardly worth thinking about anymore.
He began to unload the pack, and set up a tent to sleep in while he stayed here - he wasn't welcome back on Mane Street anymore, so this would have to do as his new home... at least for as long as he lived. Serious had never known aSpecial Somepony... and with his attitude, he was fairly sure that he never would. It didn't bother him so much - when all you had to care for was yourself, you could manage quite well. It did hold the harrowing implications that Serious Black, last of the Black family line, would never be able to carry on the family name, and was therefore the last of his kind.
He tried not to think about that too often, but when he got deep into the cider, the thought would rip away any stability Serious might have had - he'd spent a few nights crying over how bad things were... but those moments had been inprivate; the townies all operated under the impression that he was incapable of emotions other than hate, since they'd never really seen him emote in such a way. Not like they'd ever been interested in speaking to him anyway... but, since the feeling had been mutual, and had been for a long time, he didn't care. Not anymore.
Regardless, he made himself focus on the here and now, and began to look over the entire area, seeking out good place to start digging - he might as well try, though he seriously doubted he'd turn up with anything worthwhile...
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The emerald vein was thicker than his own barrel.
He'd been here for almost two weeks now, and had managed to put together a regular routine: Wake up, breakfast, pickaxe, lunch break, pickaxe, supper, bathe in the nearby mountain creek, sleep... repeated again and again until Serious could do it by rote. There had been no visitors, no days off, no distractions. And also, no gold. He hadn't actually expected to find anything valuable, though he'd held out for the hope that there would be SOMEthing here...
Of course, precious gems would do in a pinch, he supposed.
The more he struck at the rock face, the more emerald he found; the deposit was ENORMOUS! There was no way of knowing whether or not it was all one solid chunk until he got it all freed from the rock face - but he now had a MUCH better feeling about the property. Why, if this deposit was as big and valuable as he hoped it was, he'd build a home on this very spot! It was secluded, it was peaceful, and it was ALL HIS. He was pretty sure the fool who had sold him the property hadn't ever dreamed there would be something like THIS just under a few feet of rock!
Now, he'd have to either head back to Mane Street in the small hamlet he'd left to make the sale, or he'd have to head to the next closest township; it had been the seat of Discord's reign of Chaos, which had only recently been ended by the Alicorn Sisters, Celestia and Luna. Ponies grateful to the duo were beginning to build up a lot of the area around their castle, and Serious knew it wouldn't be too long before it held its' own city name. There would be traders there, he wassure of it.
He set his forehead against the cool, rough ore and sighed, a tear rolling down his muzzle; he'd actually been successful - the pony that no one thought would ever make any good has finally had their ship come in - and that ship was emerald green, just like his father's coat had been. It was a sign; it HAD to be. Now, he was in charge of his own Fate... and he felt secure in his future as a rich-... no, a wealthy pony.
Who would laugh at Serious Black now?
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The pawn shop mare giggled behind a manicured hoof.
"My apologies Mister Black, but 'tis true - emeralds simply do not sell very well. It has been so for decades; the market dried up during Discord's 'Emerald Rain' period, when the lousy things were everywhere... again, I am so very sorry."
Getting over her initial reaction to his proclamation of what he had to sell, she now truly did look sorry to have to pass the news to him. She did genuinely feel bad for him; he seemed so desperate for a win of some sort. And let it never be said that the shrewd pawn broker, Fair Shakes, wasn't a fan of the underdog, as it were. Plus, in his own gruff, brash way, she thought that Serious was cute... seriously cute.
Of course, she had to be somewhat picky in this case - after all, it wouldn't be much longer before her pawn shop would have to go into hock itself; nopony wanted to buy anything - only sell. As a pawn shop makes no bits when bits keep floating out the door in the form of sales, though a few emeralds would bring in a bit of cash - gems always sold, no matter what - but she knew the stallion in front of her was going to be upset. The pittance a few glimmering green rocks paid out wasn't worth much... but she had to make something, and soon.
She sighed, giving him an appraising look before stating, "Well, I suppose 'tis possible I could take a gander... 'twould bring what harm? How far into the mountains is your find, exactly?"
Serious was taken by surprised, but he wasn't about to allow this opportunity to slip through his hooves.
"Well, uhm, er... 'tis north; FAR north - but not too far. Near a quarter-day's journey, to be true."
Serious hadn't ever known anypony who would willingly suffer his company - and he might have never truly taken notice of anypony before, but Fair shakes was just pretty enough to attract his attention. He was internally trying to question himself as to why he was thinking about such a thing now, of all times - but this was a SALE, first and foremost.
"You would... accompany me?"
The mare could see he wasn't expecting any interest in the sale; all the same, he did have a certain... charm... that she found endearing in his pleading eyes... which happened to be the same color as the emeralds he sought to bargain away. And she did have an interest. In the emeralds. Yeah. This deal, she HAD to see through - not that she had any sort of greed; can anypony truly blame another for wanting something just a bit more than they have?
"But of course; thou art a gentlecolt, I assume? I shall be safe on the journey?"
Serious pulled himself to his full height, which was considerable - he had a tendency to slouch, so he didn't seem as imposing. The result of his posture change was impressive - he actually was strikingly handsome when he wasn't slouching, grumbling and holding a sour frown. She now took notice that he had a good bit of muscle... and he had what looked to almost be a negative amount of fat on his sturdy worker's frame. He nodded, trying his very best to appear stoic and able-bodied.
Shakes grinned in that mysterious way mares sometimes have of smiling at somepony, and said, "Then let us be off, shall we?"
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"This is... is..."
Fair Shakes and Serious Black stood side by side, looking up at the large chunk of emerald ore he'd managed to unearth. It was as big as a house; it still had chunks or rock stuck to it, but the rest of it seemed to have a bright green glow in the fading sunlight. It was quite a beautiful sight, to be honest... certainly one of the prettiest things Shakes had ever seen.
She turned to look at Serious, her muzzle in shock. "ALL this is yours? Emeralds may not sell, but THIS much would still fetch quite a lot of bits at market - simply for the purity!"
He looked at her and gave her a sly half-grin. "Yes ma'am - 'tis mine, and mine alone."
"Alone?" She lifted an eyebrow. "Thou hast no family? No parents, nor foals or... a wife?"
Serious caught the hesitation in asking about a wife; did she have an interest in him? He pondered the possibility for a moment - if it was so, he dare not rush into things. If being on the accursed stretch of land had brought him wealth, it would pay for itself... but if it had brought him love...
Now Serious was the one who lifted a brow. "Your interest is merely of a professional nature, or is it more... personal, dare I be so bold to ask?" He had a feeling this would be the right question to ask, and now might be the best time to ask it...
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The wedding had been somewhat barren, as Fair had only a few relatives who would even approve of the exiled stallion, and Serious had nopony but himself. Still, for what it was worth, the ceremony was short and sweet, and they both came from the simple chapel-house with smiles on their faces, now forever united in mare-trimony... and that included the small fortune they had begun to make by ekeing out the emeralds to the non-local traders' caravans, sending them out into Equestria and possibly beyond. That had been Shake's idea, and Serious had truly grown to love her shrewd business mind; it had begun to provide for them more than he'd believed possible.
He had even managed to get enough time and supplies together to construct a small, yet sturdy house near the rocky shelf above the clearing - it was far enough above the area to see not only down into it, but out across the expanse below the mountain range itself. The cabin had been meticulously made, as Serious was determined his life would be played out upon this stage here, amidst the peaks and scrub trees and emeralds...
And in the company of his smart and wonderfully wily wife.
And, eventually, their six children, as well.
Though Serious Black had originally thought himself to have been completely taken for a fool, instead he discovered that this land was exactly what he wanted, after all.
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EPILOGUE
The Canterlot Archives show that Serious Black married Fair Shakes, and fathered four colts and two fillies - all of which ended up staying on the property their father had originally purchased, resulting in an expansion on the cabin and more regular digging activity.
Serious Black passed away at an elderly age, and was the first of the family line to be buried in what is now known as 'Blackwater Ridge', the family cemetery. The small and respectable statue on his grave was sculpted by his youngest daughter, the old-world master sculptress, Chisel Black.
In modern times, the ground Serious broke to find the enormous emerald is now the site of the quarry's very modernized Gem Refinery.
