The stallion in the ticket booth scared Marble.
To be fair, there were a lot of things that scared Marble. Thunderstorms. Ghost stories. Handsome stallions looking her in the eye. Even Limestone sometimes, although her older sister never meant to scare her. It was just a byproduct of Limestone being Limestone.
As Limestone led Marble away from the old fool, his warnings about the Peaks of Peril and lying Kirins echoing in their ears, she did her best to soothe the timid mare. A pat on the shoulder and a “There, there,” was usually enough to get Marble smiling again. Not today.
“Don’t listen to him, Marble. Pinkie told us all about it herself. And she’s no liar. A little nuts,” Limestone added with a roll of her eyes, “but no liar.”
At this, the tiniest smile followed. Limestone returned it with one of similar size.
They continued on past the skeptical trainpony and his shack of a ticket booth, leaving the train’s final tracks and heading towards the wilderness beyond. The sun blazed as they trotted through the plains to the peaks, wicking their coats with sweat. Neither paid it much mind, their destination far worth the journey.
As the plains gave way to a grove of trees, Limestone turned to her sister. “So, what are you gonna talk about first? Or who are you gonna talk to? Maybe that one farmhoof who’s always too busy staring at you to get any work done?”
Marble’s cheeks tinged pink. “Uhhhh…”
Limestone replied with a playful snicker, “I figured as much.”
Marble looked away. Her blush darkened. “Mm-hmm.”
Limestone nudged her in the ribs. “Whoa, Marble! Save that kinda talk for the wedding night, alright?” With a bark of a chuckle, she added, “You’re gonna make me jealous! First Maud, now you? Before you know it, I’ll be the only Pie without a match!”
Marble cringed. “Uhhhh…”
“There’s always the Choosing Stone, but, between you and me, I’d rather go out and find somepony.” After a moment, Limestone added with a toothy smirk, “Don’t tell Ma and Pa though.”
Marble gave a quick nod. “Mm-hmm!”
Another rare smile tugged at Limestone’s lips. A break from the farm always tended to do that. Too bad these breaks were getting fewer and further between.
Ah well. At least today was a good enough reason to leave work behind.
It wasn’t long before they reached the village. Instead of a hidden path behind a stone, the Kirin marked the entrance to their village with a gaudy banner, streamers, and other colorful decorations hanging between the trees.
Limestone wrinkled her muzzle. “Something tells me Pinkie didn’t just hear about this place from her friends.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Shrugging, Limestone continued on. Alone, after a few steps. “Marble?”
“Uhhhh…” Pawing a forehoof at the dirt, Marble tucked herself beneath her mane. She gave another uneasy, almost inaudible hum.
With a sigh, Limestone returned to her side. “C’mon, Marble. We made it this far. Don’t be nervous.” She mustered a smile. “It’s gonna work. I promise.”
When Marble looked up from the ground, gave her that trademark smile, and replied, “Mm-hmm,” Limestone felt the happiest she’d been in a long time.
These Kirin were annoying.
The one who had greeted them with a song just wouldn’t shut up. What was her name? Autumn-something? Whatever. Didn’t matter.
While Limestone had tried to object to the tour of the village—being nice and polite, at first, and then raising her voice just a little—Marble had convinced her to let Autumn-something do her thing. Even if it meant learning where they did stand-up comedy, or sold vases, or other superficial nonsense. Even if Limestone had to bite her lip so much that she tasted blood.
Finally, Autumn-something circled them back to the entrance of the village. Right where they began. “So, that’s everything! What do you think of my ‘Welcome to our village’ song? Too fast? Too slow? Too steady of tempo? Oh, how I missed rhymes so much! Even after being able to talk for months now, I just can’t—”
Limestone stomped a hoof. “Enough!”
Autumn-something’s eyes widened. Several Kirin turned towards them, their eyes wide with surprise… and fear.
Good. Fear always cut right to the chase.
Marble laid a forehoof on Limestone’s shoulder. “Uhhhh…”
After briefly meeting her eyes, Limestone sighed. She drew in a sharp, hissing breath. “Where are the flowers?” Though her tone was quieter, the grinding of her teeth was definitely not. “They’re the whole reason we came here. Not your stupid song and dance,” she mumbled, loud enough for only Marble to hear.
Marble shot her a disappointed glare. Limestone rolled her eyes.
Autumn-something tilted her head. “The flowers?” Before Limestone could clarify, she blinked, then clapped her cloven forehooves together. “Oh! The foal’s-breath flowers! The ones that cured our silence! Is that what you mean?”
Limestone clenched her jaw. “Yes, those.”
“Well, why didn’t you say so?” Autumn-something laughed. “We have plenty! In fact, they’re at Cinder Glow’s booth!” She pointed over to a merchant’s stall. A brown Kirin with a green mane waved far too enthusiastically at the mares. “Though, I gotta ask—what for?”
In reply, a forehoof dug at the dirt. Limestone met Marble’s lowered gaze, awaiting her nod. Marble dug again, then nodded. Limestone sucked in a breath between her teeth. “For my sister.”
If the other Kirin hadn’t been listening in on their conversation before, they certainly were now. Limestone could feel the snap of muzzles turning around, the heat of eyes staring their way, the low gust of hushed whispers passing under the light breeze.
Everypony always reacted this way. No wonder every Kirin did the same.
“Y-your sister?” Autumn-something raised both eyebrows. “I thought she was just a little shy. Which is fine, but—wait.” She pointed at Marble. “Did you fall into the Stream of Silence, too?”
Limestone laid a forehoof on Marble’s shoulder. This conversation was never easy. After taking a deep breath, she began, “She—well, she’s always—”
Marble shoved it away. Then, she looked up at Limestone, something burning in her eyes.
At her sudden strength, Limestone gasped. “Marble…”
Standing up, Marble shoved Limestone aside, coming face-to-face with Autumn-something.
“Uhhhh… Uhhhh…” Her brow furrowing, Marble coughed, then cleared her throat. She tried again. “Mm-hmm, uh… hhh…” She was shaking now. The strain continued, wound like one taut string between her vocal cords and the world’s ears. “Mm—hmm—uh—hhhhhh…”
Now the entire village was watching.
“M-Marble—” Limestone raised a forehoof, then lowered it.
Like cracking a geode, there were some things that required a gentle hoof. Lest it be shattered, and gone forever. And Limestone, no matter how delicate she tried to step, had always been too heavy-hoofed.
More attempts, until Marble—a single tear glistening on her cheek—stared down at the ground.
While they had the entire village’s attention, none of these strange creatures, once cursed to silence, seemed to have anything to say.
Limestone fought the fool shaking in her own limbs, the traitorous twisting of her stomach, as she gritted her teeth and shot daggers back at Autumn-something. “Does that answer your stupid question?”
For once, the rambling Kirin had nothing to say.
While Marble sniffled, Limestone rubbing at her shoulder, another Kirin stepped forward. This one was far taller than the others. The red horn above her two-tone blue mane towered high enough to pierce the heavens if she tried. Full of might and magic, she looked almost intimidating in Limestone’s narrowed eyes.
For the first time since they arrived, Limestone felt threatened.
“We shall give you the tea from the foal’s-breath flowers,” this Kirin said, her words misting like smoke over water, “but we can make no guarantees of a cure.” She paused, her eyes tracing over the crumpled mare on the ground. “The waters of the Stream of Silence do not run past our village. We can take no responsibility for—”
“I know it’s not your fault!” Limestone shouted, stepping towards her. She threw her forehooves up in desperation. “B-but if you could give an entire village their voices back with a lousy cup of tea, you should be able to—”
Magic crackled up her horn. “We don’t know that, young one. We will do our best to help you, but we shall make no promises.” She swept her gaze amongst her fellow Kirin. “Given our village’s checkered history with anger, our aid comes with one condition.” She stared Limestone down. “We will make the tea for your sister. If it fails to heal her, you must leave the village at once—to never return.”
Every creature’s eyes turned to Limestone Pie.
Including Marble’s.
The blood rushing in her ears rivaled the might of the stream. Below her adrenaline and beneath her regret—so many years, so many doctors, so much trying—Limestone Pie found the will to nod.
Still cowering under the weight of it all, Marble Pie nonetheless found the strength to smile. To try, one more time.
The Kirin at the booth wasted no time in crushing those blue flowers into a paste, bringing a kettle to boil with magic, and combining the two. Autumn-something delayed no further as she took the cup of foals-breath in her teal aura and passed it over.
And when Marble brought that cup to her lips, Limestone hoped that the stallion at the train tracks was truly an old fool.
Marble stared with trepidation at the train ticket salespony. The twisted face smirked as they passed with an unpleasant gleam in his eye. She found herself cowering behind her mane, like she always did when somepony looked at her like that. He stared at her, expecting some sort of reaction. She couldn’t give him one other than fear.
As she always did, Limestone was quick to shield her from the stallion’s gaze. Marble sighed. Limestone acted this way with each new “miracle cure.” It gave her a goal. Gave her something else to focus on. Limestone didn’t have much, aside from the farm. She gave herself to it fully, except at times like this.
Marble was happy to go with Limestone on these little trips. She just wished it didn’t always have to be about her voice. Or the lack thereof.
Marble had always been mute. The doctors had never been able to explain why. The Pie family had always teased her, saying that her twin, Pinkie, had stolen all her words in utero.
Limestone had never laughed at that. For her, it was some sort of injustice the universe had done to her little sister. Something that she intended to correct. Or, at least, that’s what it seemed like to Marble.
Limestone and Marble walked through the unforgiving terrain of the Peaks of Peril. Marble looked at the ground, studying the rock formations in the dirt. She tried to determine the nearby topography based on the substance and the way it piled. Marble started to calculate the best route to avoid too much strain, while her sister marched on ahead, cutting through the dense foliage in the most direct path.
Marble could tell that this was a much more treacherous way. She tried to tell Limestone by touching her shoulder. Limestone turned, looked back, and smiled at her younger sister.
“So, what are you gonna talk about first? Or who are you gonna talk to? Maybe that one farmhoof who’s always too busy staring at you to get any work done?” Limestone teased.
Marble felt her face brightening. The farmhoof was a friend of Marble’s who liked to tell her his secrets. The biggest one was that he had a crush on Limestone, but didn’t know how to approach her. She wasn’t able to tell him how to go about it. If he could find a way, she hoped that this would make her sister finally take time for herself.
“Mm-hmm,” Marble admitted.
“I figured as much.”
Marble felt herself blushing further as she realized what this would mean for her older sister. Some part of her giggled at the misinterpretation. Then, when Limestone began to talk about feeling left behind by her younger sisters, her smile fell. Limestone even mentioned using the Choosing Stone. Marble just assured her to hold out a little longer.
Soon, the siblings found a large, bannered arch marking the entrance of the Kirin village. If Marble didn’t know any better, she would have sworn Pinkie had hung it. But her twin’s hoofwriting was different.
Limestone snorted at the colorful display. “Something tells me Pinkie didn't just hear about this place from her friends.”
Shaking her head, Marble followed Limestone in. She gazed in awe at all the Kirin moving throughout the small village. All the quaint shops with their hoofmade wares. The impressive river that rushed through the serene village, which produced a pleasant babble that calmed her nerves.
Marble watched in continued amazement as the Kirin around them descended from stairs that led to houses built out of living trees. She wondered if trees could be more comfortable to sleep in than rocks. The air smelled so different here. It wasn’t like anything they had back home. The trees rustled as the breeze played through her mane. For a moment, both of her eyes were visible and she could see so clearly.
She could feel her heart flutter and her breathing increase, her body becoming alert and alive to all the glorious sounds and views of this wondrous place. The birds chirped merrily. The flowers filled the air with their soft fragrance. Small Kirin foals chased each other around the village. Marble could scarcely believe such a community could ever exist.
“Who do we need to talk to about...” Limestone interrupted her reverie with her typical demanding grunt.
Before she could finish her question, a tan ball of energy bounced excitedly in front of them. “Hi, I’m Autumn Blaze! Welcome to Kirin Village, home of the wonderful Kirins! Make yourself at home! Ooh, wait! You don’t know where anything is. I’ll show you around! But first, here’s our ‘Welcome to Kirin Village’ song!”
Autumn Blaze broke out into a welcome song that seemed very Pinkie. Marble suspected the banner was her work after all.
As the song continued, Marble’s ears flopped back. She hid underneath her mane. Though she herself liked the song, she knew what songs from other ponies did to Limestone. Placing a reassuring forehoof on her sister’s back, she watched as the irate pony quaked in rage—but remained silent.
The song reached its zenith at a shrill, high note that Autumn had no business hitting. But it finished.
Limestone hadn’t moved. Marble could see her chest heaving. Luckily, she didn’t explode.
Marble breathed a sigh of relief. She then found herself drawn to a nearby stall with beautiful blue flowers. The green Kirin behind the stall smiled as she approached. The salespony placed the spied flowers out wordlessly, allowing Marble to get a good look at them. She was about to sniff them when a warm, grey forehoof dragged her away.
“Er, nice song, I guess,” Limestone began with an awkward cough. “But we’re looking for—”
“Comedy!” Autumn Blaze grinned. “You want to know where the Kirin laugh our troubles away, don’t you? Come on!”
“Wait, no—”
Marble and Limestone were dragged to the next spot in the circular centre of the village. Marble stood at the end of an open amphitheater filed with seats. She could picture the Kirin filling those seats while laughing at Pinkie’s antics. It reminded her of how desolate her farm was in comparison.
Onstage, there was a group of Kirin dressed in strange black-and-white-striped attire. She watched in fascination as they seemed to communicate with each other without any words. She took a step to get a closer look when Limestone grabbed her again.
“This is, uh, something, but we came for—”
“Flowers!” Autumn cut in.
Limestone nodded. “Yeah, the blue—”
“And flowers need vases! Over here, we have the best vases in all of Equestria! They’re hoofmade by Bamble Brook. Which I thought was ironic because of, you know, what happened.” Autumn giggled. “Come on!”
The sisters were dragged off to the next stall. Marble walked over to the various pots, bowls and pottery. All of them bore such fragile-looking designs. She tentatively poked one with her forehoof. The design held. The small black strokes on the glaze reminded Marble of cracks in the ice.
Bamble Brook smiled and pushed the item towards her to let her get a closer look. He didn’t ask her any questions at all. She noted a particularly interesting piece when she felt her sister’s hooves on her again.
“Now, look, Autumn what’s-your-name! We’re just here to see—”
Limestone was starting to get heated. Marble watched the bounding Kirin, hoping that she would understand the not-so-subtle clues that meant a volcano was about to erupt. Didn’t these Kirin burst into flames when they got angry? Couldn’t they tell that somepony was about to explode?
Autumn continued to hop around them, asking next, “How about knickknacks? I mean, what does that even mean? I know what a ‘nick’ is, and some have a knack for singing and comedy and plays and parties! But does anypony have a knack for nicking?”
Muttering more musings to herself, Autumn pushed the ponies from behind this time. They came to a stop in front of a shop filled with strange items and little wooden figures.
“Tchotchke here makes the most intricate and beautiful things to fill up all your windowsills, mantles, bathrooms, sinks, kitchen, and even your bedroom table!” Autumn declared, introducing them to another friendly Kirin.
Marble looked at a little carved figure of a bear. She was about to investigate when she stopped herself, waiting until her sister grabbed her again. Sure enough, Limestone did. Marble sighed.
Autumn Blaze danced her way back to the entrance of the village. Marble looked all around at the wonder before them… and the stern face of her sister. She looked with longing at the strange items and fun things in the various shops. Then, she looked at Limestone, whose eyes never moved from Autumn.
Marble was about to try and tell Limestone to back off when the farmpony finally exploded. Marble instinctively hid behind her mane.
“Enough!” Limestone stomped a hoof with enough force that every Kirin turned to stare at them.
Just as Limestone was about to reveal the reason for their visit, Marble stood up. She laid a calming forehoof on her sister’s shoulder, watching as she simmered down to a mere bubbling rather than a huge eruption .
“Where are the flowers?” Limestone’s gritted teeth sounded like they were scraping across stone. “They’re the whole reason we came here. Not your stupid song and dance...” Limestone was about to say more when she glanced at Marble.
“The flowers?” Autumn tilted her head. “Oh! The foal’s-breath flowers!”
Shortly after, Autumn pointed a forehoof past them. Marble followed her line of sight and saw, to her amazement and annoyance, the same flowers that Limestone had first pulled her away from. She looked at her sister as Autumn asked what they were for.
Limestone dug at the ground and glanced at Marble. The well-rehearsed, tired speech hung on her sister’s lips.
Marble hated this part. This was the part where Limestone would tell them that she was mute. That they couldn’t explain why. Then these creatures, too, would look at her with pity. They had such happy faces when she saw them before they knew. Soon, Limestone would take that away from her, too.
“My sister...”
A forehoof to Limestone’s shoulder stopped her.
Marble Pie had enough. The timid mare trotted towards the confused Kirin and told them.
“Please,” she said, “my sister has been through so much on my behalf. She’s so focused on a cure that she’s not noticing those around her. Like the farmhoof who likes her, or even me. Help me speak so she can start living. Please.”
Marble could feel the tear roll down her cheek as the Kirin stared at her. She could feel Limestone’s wide, lime-green eyes on her. She could feel herself collapse at Autumn’s hooves as the tirade took its toll.
Marble had tried hard, but she was still a mute. All the Kirin and her sister had heard was “Mmmm mmm mmm.”
A large Kirin walked towards them. The others parted a way for her as she arrived. Marble noted that she had such a kind face, looking at them with such concern and care. She didn’t have the pity the other Kirin faces displayed.
As she looked at Limestone, her expression hardened. “We shall give you the tea from the foal’s-breath flowers, but we can make no guarantees of a cure.” The mighty matriarch looked down at Marble. Her eyes shone with curiosity. “The waters of the Stream of Silence do not run past our village. We can take no responsibility for—”
“I know it’s not your fault!” Limestone shouted. Marble could see the veins bulging from her neck. “B-but if you could give an entire village their voices back with a lousy cup of tea, you should be able to—”
Thunder clapped throughout the village as the large Kirin’s horn burst into flame. She took a deep breath. Then, the flame extinguished. “We don’t know that, young one. We will do our best to help you, but we shall make no promises.”
Marble watched the stone face return to the Kirin as her figure went rigid. She glared at the farmpony. “Given our village’s checkered history with anger, our aid comes with one condition. We will make the tea for your sister. If it fails to heal her, you must leave the village at once—to never return.”
Marble gasped. This village was so nice and treated her with such warmth. Even the bouncing Autumn Blaze had been nice to her.
Yet, she sadly watched as Limestone agreed for them. The Kirin hastily prepared the flowers for the tea, then gave her a steaming cup.
As she lifted the cup to her lips, she looked into Limestone’s pleading face, and hoped.
