To the other ponies, Maud’s face would look the same as it always did. That same emotionless expression, with eyes half-lidded under two semi-circles of lilac eyeshadow and a thick band of eyeliner tapering to a point. The eye routine was something Maud was so devoted to that she even kept it up here, right on the front lines of battle, sleeping with her compact and brushes underneath that thin excuse of a standard-issue pillow.
Pinkie had heard the whispered, mean comments. Such vanity was more than just eccentric these days, years into the war against Sombra and the resurrected Crystal Empire. It was downright un-Equestrian, which made the whisperers feel more than justified in their contempt. But they just didn’t understand Maud the way Pinkie did. They never even tried to look past the surface.
Not that anyone could now.
But Pinkie always saw Maud more clearly than other ponies did. She could tell when Maud was happy or sad or excited or afraid, even when it looked as if her face was saying nothing. She saw the light behind those expressionless eyes. And now, behind that still, steely turquoise, she could tell that the light was gone. That her sister was gone.
Pinkie was glad to see it.
It meant that she had died quickly and painlessly. She was here one moment, gone the next. No time to realize it.
No time to suffer. But Pinkie didn’t feel as if she was suffering, either. She was probably in shock, sure. But on top of that, there was a deep numbness from the middle of her spine, down to her hindlegs which she could not get to move. The enemy’s rockfall that had killed Maud had killed her too; it would just take a bit more time.
It was all so wrong. They weren’t supposed to die out here, at the foothills of the Crystal Mountains. This was supposed to be their chance. Their chance to serve the Goddess and to find their destinies beyond that little rock farm. Well, Maud already knew her destiny. Pinkie’s eyes welled up with tears as she thought of it. She was supposed to start her rocktorate once Equestria returned to peace and the schools reopened. And Pinkie…
Well, Pinkie had no idea what her destiny was. But that didn’t matter. She knew what she would do. Wherever Maud ended up, Whinnyapolis or Manehattan or even Ponyville, Pinkie would follow her. If Maud didn’t want to live in the same house, Pinkie would live in the house next door. Or in a cave just outside of town. As long as she got to be in her sister’s life. As long as she could be there for her. Protect her.
Because, let’s face it, there never was any such thing as destiny, was there? Cutie marks didn’t tell you your purpose and you didn’t have to listen to what Choosing Stones said. Deep down, she knew this long before today. Deep down, she knew this even before the day those meaningless balloons had appeared on her flank. Somewhere deep down, she knew this ever since she was a filly. Ever since that day in the fields when she watched the sky with Maud all the way until the sun went down, waiting for something special that was supposed to happen but never did.
So maybe there was something that was right here, that she would die here next to her sister. After all, her sister was the closest thing her short, dreary life ever had to a destiny or a purpose.
That is why she did not use the last of her strength to cry out for rescue, even though she could hear the voices of the flyers in her company searching for survivors in the distance. What would be the point? To spend the last moments of her life bleeding to death while being comforted by Rainbow Dash? No. It was better this way.
So many small blessings from the Goddess: that the last face she would ever see would be Maud’s, that she could not see what the back of Maud’s head looked like, that she was the one mourning her dead sister and not the other way around. She was crying, but that was normal. What she could not bear was the thought of Maud crying for her. Maud never cried. She was sad a lot but she never cried. Not since they were both fillies. And they always both were…
It was getting harder to think. Pinkie tried to think of Maud. Tried to have her last thoughts be of how glad she was that she had been there for Maud in life. But her own mind betrayed her. She laughed at the ridiculousness of it, each contraction sending out a fresh wave of pain she hardly felt. Her last thoughts were going to be so silly. Disappointment that she never would get to use those ideas she came up with for her party.
She thought about the party.
A worn, conical paper hat, secured to the top of Maud’s head by an elastic string underneath her chin. An old party whistle, its hard mouthpiece scuffed by Celestia-knows-how-many pony mouths, stuck between her lips. Even Pinkie had to agree it looked ridiculous.
Maud blew into the party whistle, which unrolled and emitted a shrill note. Her expression was unenthused. Even Pinkie had to agree that it was an appropriate emotional response.
Instead of a cake, there was an extra ration bar and an extra can of slop from some farm she’d never heard of in Ponyville. The drawing of that smiling old mare pointing at an apple on the label was almost mocking. Nopony believed there were any real apples in the thing anyway.
“All right, that’s it!” the Morale Officer spoke up. “Happy birthday…” He trailed off as he glanced at his clipboard performatively, at the name in Pinkie’s hoofwriting scribbled over the one typed underneath. “Maud Pie. Now, I must requisition back the supplies.”
“That’s it?” Pinkie shouted, incredulous.
“It’s what everypony gets.” The earth pony’s expression was as blank as Maud’s as he removed her party hat and whistle.
“But if it weren’t for Maud, we wouldn’t have headed off that attack yesterday!” Pinkie protested. “If she hadn’t hit their bridge exactly, they would have been able to get their reïnforcements through! Shouldn’t that count for something special?“
That did get a response: a look of annoyance. “Hey, what do you expect me to do? Keep a detailed dossier on everypony in the company so that I can plan extra-special parties just for them?”
“Well okay, maybe nothing that crazy, but you could at least try!”
The annoyance turned to frustration as the stallion yelled back. “Look, I work with what they give me! This isn’t even supposed to be my job! It’s not like I was some wandering party planner going around from town to town before this, you know. They only gave me this extra duty because I know how many extra rations we can spare. I’m the cook!”
With that, he stormed off, while Pinkie yelled after him.
“It’s not like you do that job well, either!”
“Pinkie.” Maud placed a calming hoof on her withers. “It’s okay.”
“Yeah…” Rainbow Dash interjected, hovering above them both. “Maybe not the best idea to make the cook mad.”
Pinkie’s face was sour. “It’s not like he can make that slop they feed us any worse! Why does he even have that cutie mark anyway? It’s not like we ever even get sandwiches!“
Maud rubbed her withers soothingly. “It’s really okay, Pinkie.” At that, Pinkie actually did calm down to a frown.
“Yeah,” Rainbow Dash agreed again. “I mean, I’m not sure what you expected!”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Pinkie sighed. “Something like Soarin’s birthday party last moon? That one was really fun!”
It had been fun, watching Soarin’ and Dash and the other flyers celebrate. They were friendly enough, but there was a clear gulf between them and the only two groundpounders invited. Not that either of them minded. They were both content to sit off in a corner and watch the unfamiliar revelry.
“Yeah! But that’s because that one was planned by all of us, his friends! And I, uh, kinda assumed you’d be doing Maud’s.”
“Oh.” Pinkie frowned. “Is that how that works?”
“Yeah… Like, nopony actually asks the Morale Officer for a party because of the party! It’s just for the extra rations.”
“Oh.” Pinkie frowned. Yet another obvious thing she hadn’t known. “But it’s one of his official titles! I just thought he’d at least try to take his Goddess-given duty seriously.“
Pinkie glimpsed a frown flash across Rainbow Dash’s face and realized she’d slipped up again. She had noticed that most ponies in the company got uncomfortable whenever she talked about the Goddess, and she’d learned to be a bit self-conscious about it.
“Hey, let’s not worry about that guy!” Rainbow Dash started. “It’s still Maud’s birthday party! There’s still one more thing we have to do, remember? Presents!”
“Of course!” Pinkie lit up as she pulled out something neatly covered in a delicately steamed-off can label and tied together with a bow made of strips of discarded ration bar wrapper. She hoofed it to Maud awkwardly, remembering the look Rainbow Dash had given her when she asked her to scout out a place to bury it that would be obvious to Maud, because she really, really wanted her to find it.
“I had to do a lot of scrip trading to get this. Somepony had a friend making uniforms in Manehattan who still had a connection.”
Maud unwrapped the package with her teeth to reveal an eyeshadow compact, of the same shade she always got. Pinkie had noticed the color on her eyelids had been off recently. Too much gray.
“Thank you, Pinkie.” Maud smiled slightly.
“Uh, I got you something, too!” Rainbow Dash used her non-prosthetic wing to give her a small thing wrapped hastily in plain, brown paper. Maud opened it to reveal a shiny, black rock.
“Found it in a river on patrol the other day. Thought it looked cool, and y’know, since you like rocks and all…“
Maud considered it for a second before speaking.
“Anthracite. It’s actually very common. The shine on the surface must be due to water erosion.” She took a bite of it, letting the mouthful crumble and crunch between her teeth. “Good, smoky flavor, though. Thank you.”
Rainbow Dash frowned, clearly not expecting that reaction.
“Well, uh, glad you like it, Maud! And happy birthday, again! But I gotta get going…”
She looked down at Pinkie and Maud, and Pinkie realized what that expression in her eyes was. Pity. It made sense. There was a reason Maud’s birthday party was just the three of them, and if they were being honest, Rainbow Dash wouldn’t have been there either if they hadn’t saved her life that one time. If it weren’t for the war, they certainly would have never even met the Cloudsdale pegasus.
“Say! Crazy idea, but how about we do a do-over of Maud’s party in a few days? Maybe not the presents part, since we just did that, but the rest of it?”
“Really?” Pinkie thought about it for a second, and it didn’t sound like a bad idea at all. “But who’s going to plan it?”
“Well, I was thinking you! Since you know her best and all.”
Pinkie frowned. “But I don’t know anything about parties, I’m a rock farmer! I didn’t even know what a party was until I left the farm.”
“Yeah, but you saw how Soarin’s went.” Rainbow Dash smiled at her. “And I’ll definitely be there. And I’ll see if my other friends can come, too.”
Pinkie balked at that.
“It’ll be fine, really!” Rainbow Dash reassured. “I mean, it can’t be any worse than that other guy’s!”
“Yeah, I do feel this urge to one-up him for some reason…”
“And you will!” Rainbow Dash smiled, then began flapping her wings to gain some altitude. “But I, uh, really should go now. See ya guys!”
“See you!” Pinkie waved her off enthusiastically, while Maud did so more restrainedly. Pinkie turned to her and gave her a worried look.
“What do you think, Maud? Do you think I’ll be any good at planning your party?”
Maud took a second to think before reaching out to put her hoof back on Pinkie.
“I think it’s a good idea.“ She gave a rare, slight smile. “No matter how it turns out, you’ll make sure to plan your party with lots of love. That’s what matters.“
Pinkie smiled at that. She started to think about what a party for Maud would look like, and was a bit surprised by how many ideas were suddenly coming to her. But then again, was it so surprising? Sure, there weren’t exactly many made-for-partying materials lying around a military camp, but you don’t grow up on an isolated rock farm without learning to improvise. And that sense of peace she felt as those ideas came together in her head to form a coherent whole greater than the sum of its parts? The anticipatory excitement of seeing that smile on her sister’s face? That was the least surprising part of it. Of course she would feel that way about something she was doing for Maud. There was nothing else that could have meant.
And even if the party was a disaster and Rainbow Dash’s friends hated it, who would care? A few days after that, they were due to rotate out. They were going to go home, back to the rock farm Pinkie had never thought she would miss. And after that…
She thought about the letter.
Typewritten, with a blank line filled in with the name “Pinkie Pie” in barely legible hoofwriting. The Seal of the Sovereign prominent in its lower-right corner. Clearly mass-printed and mass-stamped in some dreary office in Canterlot by some bored bureaucrat. But a Seal was a Seal.
“Thou shouldst be happy, Pinkamena.” Pinkie’s mother peered down at her through her reading glasses, as she always did. “We all are. Many years have we waited for a sign from the Goddess, and it hath finally arrived.”
“But it’s war, Mother. I know that it is our duty to serve the Goddess and Her cause, but should I be happy to be on the front lines of battle?“
She replied. “Thou knowest what the Choosing Stone hath said. At which hour the sign from the Goddess cometh, thy fate is to revel and rejoice!”
Her father spoke next. “And if't be true the worst should come to pass, we must accept the Goddess's will. Even what would pain us as thy parents.”
Pinkie knew that they meant that last part. She could see the worry and fear in their eyes, behind their stoic expressions. She knew that they did love her and Maud and Limestone and Marble in their own way. But it was harder to see these days, with the strictness and sternness that was already there when she was a filly somehow hardening over the years. Well, not somehow…
There was a reason Maud spent most of her time out in the fields even when she wasn’t working. She said it was because it was more important than ever to keep up her study of rocks while her correspondence school was closed due to the war, but Pinkie knew she was often in the fields just to be there. There was a reason Pinkie was speaking for her and holding a letter in each hoof right now. Identical copies, save for the scribbled name in that pre-printed blank.
But speaking for her meant fighting for her, too.
“But then you’ll let us, right?”
Pinkie’s parents feigned confusion. “Allow ye to do what?”
“To leave the farm! Because the Choosing Stone said that she can only leave after me. So when we both get back, we’ll all celebrate with rock soup! But then as soon as we can, we’ll get moving carts together to leave. I’ll pull my cart over the property line first, and Maud will pull hers right after.”
Her parents looked at each other, and Pinkie realized that they were actually listening to her for once. That they could have no objections to following what the Choosing Stone had said to the letter.
“Very well. Ye will have our blessings.”
Pinkie smiled. She couldn’t even feel her earlier doubts and fears anymore. No matter what happened up there, at least it would all be for something.
Her father spoke meaningfully. “’Tis Celestia's blessing that ye are called together. Ye will be able to protect each other. Ye have always been special to each other. We have always recognized that.” Pinkie was warmed by this, but then he continued. “And if't be true the Goddess blesses thee, thou wilt find thy destiny as well. Perhaps even one that is truly special.”
She looked down at the three balloons on her flank that had popped up one day without fanfare. Well into her adolescence, when she was helping Limestone survey out a new quarry site for the mine. She had just tied a marker balloon at the time and had felt a fleeting sense of peace when she saw it floating free on its tether in front of her. But it wasn’t as if such a small part of rock farming could be her purpose by itself. No. Her cutie mark, just like the fruit slices on Limestone’s or the spheres on Marble’s, didn’t really mean anything. Which is why the Choosing Stone had said their destinies were to stay on the farm and keep it running…
Pinkie looked up at her father, who had been looking at her looking at her own cutie mark, and she could see in his face that something felt wrong to him.
“Perhaps we could have looked for a sign from the Goddess in something less obvious than Her Seal, or a sign in the sky. Perhaps we have constrained ye both needlessly.”
A small concession. Made after it was far too late, of course. But not without value. Maybe even one day…
She looked at the south wall of the farmhouse as if she could see beyond it to Maud, somewhere out there in the fields. She wondered if she was, as she often was, on that spot they sat on together all those years ago.
She thought about the sky.
Dark and dreary, completely covered over by curly, gray clouds. So very fitting with the dull palette of the endless-seeming rock fields it was smothering.
Pinkie sat still, staring up at it in silence. She only realized how long it must have been when her older sibling spoke up next to her.
“What are you looking at, Pinkie?”
They weren’t supposed to be talking in the fields, of course. But they always broke that rule for each other.
“Just the sky.” Pinkie stood up and lifted up a hindleg to show that it was twitching here and there and every which way when she did. “I just had the feeling that something important was supposed to happen to it today.”
“Important?” came the reply.
“Yeah! Something really important! Something that I could get my cutie mark for! But not only that.” She looked at her older sibling. “Maybe it’ll be something so super-fantastic that I can finally convince them about you.”
The reply was monotone, as it often was. “That sounds pretty important.”
“Yeah! I just wish I knew what it was, Kilt—”
It was all so wrong. As far back as she could remember, whenever she said or heard that name her right ear twitched painfully, though it wasn’t until she was a bit older that she even knew why. That’s why she had always avoided addressing her older sibling by name.
But there was something that felt right. Something she learned only very recently.
“Maud.”
The response came. “You don’t have to call me that, Pinkie. I just thought it was a nice name.”
“No, I want to.” She looked up and to the right at her right ear, the one exposed by her manecut. It was perfectly still. “It feels right.”
Maud smiled.
Nopony seemed to understand Maud like she did. Not even their parents and Limestone, who had known Maud for longer. They didn’t look behind those rock-gray eyelids that were permanently half-drawn. They didn’t try to hear the feelings underneath that flat monotone. They didn’t take her seriously.
They didn’t take Pinkie seriously, either. Why should they? She was just a little filly, tied for being the youngest, and the worst at rock farming out of all of them. She couldn’t give them any reason to look beyond what seemed possible in this small life. Maybe that’s why she not only was hoping for, but needed this super-special thing to happen.
Pinkie turned her gaze forward at the small, gray rock sitting several lengths ahead of her, between her and a small rock pile several lengths further. She sighed.
“I should finish up that pile before Dad calls us for dinner.”
She walked forward to the rock and began nudging it forward with her head. When she reached the pile, she only had time to glance back at Maud before hearing her father ring the dinner bell. She sighed again, and stood still for a few moments, frowning. Maud walked up next to her.
“We should go in. Dad will be upset if we’re late for dinner again.”
Pinkie looked down at her hindleg and lifted it. It wasn’t moving anymore. She looked back up at the sky. It was as still and as gray as ever.
“I just want to wait for a little longer.” She sat down.
“I’ll wait here with you.” Maud sat down next to her, and looked up at the sky as well. “Maybe it’s just a little late.”
The two sisters sat side by side, looking up at the sky together. Waiting for the really important thing.
