"So…" Discord grimaced down into his teacup. "You're a… a gardener, are you?"
Mistmane smiled kindly, the way a kindergarten teacher might smile at a particularly precocious student. "If that's the easiest way for you to understand it, yes," she said. "I do tend a garden."
Discord's grimace deepened.
Not quite the reaction he was hoping for.
He swirled the anemic liquid about in his cup, daring to splash it up over the edges in little arcs. When even this didn't seem to bother the quiet unicorn who sat across from him, he cleared his throat, snapped his claws, and turned it to a molten sludge.
"I just love the smell of liquid glow-paz, don't you?" Discord cooed. He dropped a lump of sugar into the mess, and it bubbled up like lava. "Tar, with a hint of lemon. Refreshing."
Still, Mistmane hardly noticed him. She stared out the wide window with a look of gentle happiness, her mouth curled into a tiny smile, her eyes drooping shut.
Discord snorted softly, and brought the cup to his mouth for a loud and unseemly sip. "Delicious! If only it wasn't so terrible for one's teeth."
In yet another show of magical prowess, Discord fizzled his teeth away into a fine white mist, as if they had been melted by acid. He waited patiently for Mistmane to notice, but her gaze did not stray from the window.
She blinked.
Discord's teeth popped back into his gums. Like bubbles popping on the surface of soda.
"Tell me you didn't invite me all this way to ignore me," Discord grumbled. "I've had quite enough of that after a millennium as a statue."
"It wasn't far at all, though," Mistmane said simply.
Discord furrowed his brow.
He waited a moment for Mistmane to elaborate, but she only gazed out the window, that hint of a smile in her eyes.
"Do go on, Mistmane," he said at last, sipping again from his cup of molten rock. "Don't let me interrupt."
Mistmane giggled.
It was, simply put, a beautiful sound. Like a little songbird, or perhaps even the gentle tones of wind chimes in a spring breeze.
"You don't enjoy silences, do you?" she said.
Discord set his jaw.
"I apologize," Mistmane said, at last turning to face her guest. "All I meant was that-- well, the way you move through the world, it must not have been far at all. Right?"
"If that's a crack about my ego--"
"It's an observation," Mistmane said. "About your magic. The way you pop from place to place in the blink of an eye. It's fascinating."
Discord did his best to conceal his smile. "So then you invited me all this way to shower me with compliments?"
Mistmane giggled again.
Like rain on the surface of a lake. Bursts of refracted color everywhere.
"Not quite," Mistmane admitted softly.
Once again, Discord was left hanging, waiting for Mistmane to finish her thought. The unicorn turned her ancient face back to the window and returned to her silent musing.
Discord opened his mouth to respond, but found that the words did not come.
Golden shafts of sunlight filtered in the window, stark against the dark wood interior of Mistmane's home. Though tiny specks of dust floated through the amber beams, the room did not feel stuffy. It did not feel old. The dust was fickle, only seen in the direct light and never without it.
And, as the sunlight illuminated Mistmane's face, Discord felt that the same was true about her.
Elderly wasn't quite the word to describe her. She certainly had wrinkles and puffy eyes. Her jowls sagged a bit. Her jawline was disrupted and awkward. She sat in such a way that made it clear she was uncomfortable in her own skin and bones: a slight hunch, her hooves planted steady rather than dainty, and her head dipping low.
Despite it all, though, she did not seem old.
Discord couldn't quite put his hoof on why, though. He could only look.
He cleared his throat. "Why, then?" he asked. "You invited me, I'm here. Why?"
Mistmane cast him a sideways glance. "I'm interested in you."
Discord narrowed his eyes. "I'm not sure how to take that."
"You," Mistmane said. "The way you see the world. The way you understand it. The things you love, the things you find beautiful."
"Well, that's easy," Discord said, kicking back in his chair and crossing one leg over the other. "I see the world the same way you see it, only better. Can't be taught, I'm afraid. And, believe me, I've tried."
Mistmane sighed.
For some reason, Discord had the sudden feeling that he'd disappointed her. But more than that-- he'd disappointed her, and he needed to fix it.
"Um." Discord cleared his throat. "What I mean is-- well, I see the world the way I see it. And I've tried to make other ponies see it my way, but it's become abundantly clear that that isn't possible."
Mistmane looked up at him.
Her eyes were so young.
That he noticed. Her eyes sparkled with youth and joy and wonder. Like diamonds.
"I'm sorry to have wasted your time," Discord said.
He leaned forward to place his teacup back in its saucer, and the molten glow-paz faded back to green tea.
Mistmane watched silently as Discord hesitated, unsure how to make his exit.
"My, my," she murmured. "That little pegasus sure has taught you a lot, hasn't she?"
Discord felt his face flush at the mention of Fluttershy.
Before he could respond, Mistmane was rising from her seat. She did so with some difficulty, her swollen joints shivering like naked branches.
"Let's take a walk, Discord," she said softly. "Through the garden. I'll need some help, of course."
Discord made a small sound, one which even he couldn't identify the meaning of, and rushed to Mistmane's side. He had to get down on all fours to truly offer her his support. Mistmane reached gladly over and wrapped her foreleg around Discord's shoulders, a smile of satisfaction spreading over her face.
"Thank you," she said.
Discord stuttered something, but nothing quite came out.
"My garden is just out this door," Mistmane said, nodding towards the round door on her left. "My personal garden, that is. I think it'll be a lovely place to talk."
"I-I'm not much of a conversationalist," Discord admitted.
"Nonsense," Mistmane said with a shake of her head. "You love to talk."
"That's not the same as being a good conversationalist," Discord said.
"I know." Mistmane nudged him. "Believe me. Now, come on, you great beast."
Discord obeyed the mare and walked her slowly to the door, watching her careful steps along the hardwood. She had an odd way of walking, he thought; confident steps, held back by her range of motion. Much more of an injury than the slow degradation of age.
With a nod of his head, the door swung open before Discord, and another flood of sunlight rushed into the room.
Mistmane took a deep breath, the fresh air filling her lungs. "Oh, I believe the magnolias have bloomed. Finally-- I was starting to get worried. They were so late this year."
Discord paused on the threshold.
Calling this place a garden was quite the understatement. 'Garden' implied vegetables in neat little rows. Small beds edged by wood or maybe stone. Perhaps a few small ornaments, little statues of frogs or stone orbs covered in shiny shards of mirror.
This was not a garden.
This was a jungle.
Lush plants with enormous leaves shaded the walkway, creating their own miniature climate beneath the canopy. Flowers bloomed in brilliant peachy oranges and electric yellows, a sunset stretching out before Discord, inviting him deeper. He could hear the thrum of insects and even quiet birdsong.
"Go on," Mistmane encouraged. "They don't bite. Well… most of them, that is."
Discord's heart fluttered. He tried to force it into a chuckle, but it came out as a nervous cough.
The pair plunged into the garden, and the heat and humidity wrapped them up in a comforting squeeze.
"I can understand what a difficult question it must be," Mistmane said.
"Hm?"
"About your perception of the world," Mistmane reminded him. "It's not an easy thing to quantify. It takes some thought to understand it, as well, I believe-- not something you can measure. It's a process. I don't expect you to have an answer for me today."
Discord furrowed his brows. "But… I owe you an answer at some point? Is that what you're telling me?"
Mistmane giggled again.
Like sunlight sparkling on snow.
"You don't owe me a thing, you silly beast," she said. "I am asking. That's all I can do."
"Well, you're right," Discord said. "I don't have an answer for you. I see things the way I see them, and when others don't see them my way, I snap my claws to make it so. I'm not sure there's anything more to understand than that."
"I believe there is."
Discord didn't know what to say to that.
The pair turned a corner, and the colors of the garden shifted. Whereas they had been greeted with warmth--yellows, oranges, pinks, reds--the garden opened into cooler tones. Mistmane seemed quite fond of purple especially.
"Anyway. On to more interesting things," Mistmane said. "I brought you out here so I might explain how I see the world. I want you to see this as a give and take, after all."
"And you see the world differently than other ponies?" Discord asked.
"Do I detect a hint of suspicion?" Mistmane replied, casting Discord a playful sideways glance. "How should I know? I can only speak for myself. I don't claim to see the world in a special way, I only claim to see it my way."
Discord opened his mouth to reply, but Mistmane yanked him over to the right before he could quip back a reply.
"Take a look at this, would you?" she said, pointing to something on the ground.
Discord held back the large leaves blocking his view and peered down at Mistmane's hooves. A large flower bud poked up out of the center of a cluster of heart-shaped leaves. It didn't look like anything special, really-- just a green swirl which might one day bloom.
"What is that?" Mistmane asked. "There's a right answer."
Discord arched an eyebrow in Mistmane's direction. "It's a bud," he said. "Do I get a sticker?"
Mistmane rolled her eyes, but Discord tapped his chest with one claw and a gold star-shaped sticker appeared there, proclaiming 'good job!' in balloon letters.
"Well done, beastie," she muttered. "It's a bud. I see that. But I also see a beautiful flower. Understand?"
"You… see the future?" Discord guessed. "I didn't think ponies could. Isn't that against the rules or something?"
Mistmane laughed.
Like silver bells around a cat's neck.
"No, no. I see beauty," she said. "Inherently. Not as a physical trait of the body, but as a quality of the soul."
"I didn't know flowers had souls," Discord muttered.
Mistmane rolled her eyes. "Perhaps a flower was a poor example," she admitted. "Forget the flower. Let's talk about ponies, instead."
"You don't happen to have a few of those around the corner, do you?"
"My friend Rockhoof," Mistmane said, plowing right through Discord's snappy interruptions, "is a bit of a brute. Big fellow. Tall, muscular, a beard that would make a lion envious. And I see that, of course. But I can see more of him than that."
Discord ground his teeth. "So… you have x-ray vision? Yet another pony power I thought was off-limits."
Mistmane gave Discord a smack on the shoulder.
A surprisingly powerful one.
"Rockhoof isn't beautiful. And that isn't a judgement of him-- it's merely a fact. He isn't classically elegant, he isn't handsome, and he doesn't have an ounce of grace in his body," Mistmane said with a chuckle. "But, at the same time, he is. His tenacity is beautiful. His drive is beautiful. His mind, his personality, his love-- all of it is beautiful. And I see that when I look at him."
Mistmane paused.
The sounds of the garden enveloped the pair. Mistmane's musings hung in the air like the scent of a rose, and Discord did his best to learn it before it dissipated.
"Now," Mistmane said, turning to Discord, "I'd like to know what you see when you look at this bud."
Discord considered it.
He thought it was rather unimpressive, all told.
It was large, but not in especially good shape. Not that he knew very much about flowers to begin with, of course. But he had the sense that this one wasn't quite as healthy as the others.
And it could have been anything, really. It could be a very beautiful flower, but it also could be something quite plain. Perhaps not even a true flower, but a fruit hiding inside. Or an even bigger surprise: a rock, maybe. Mistmane did work with crystal, after all. It wasn't out of the question.
He wished to see something profound like Mistmane, but all he saw was a question mark.
Discord scoffed. "I don't know. It could be anything in there. For all I know, it's made of plastic!"
Mistmane frowned. "Why should it be made of plastic?"
"I never said it should," Discord corrected. "Only that it could. In fact--"
Discord snapped his claws, and a sheen came over the plant quite suddenly.
Mistmane gave Discord a curious look, then reached out to gently stroke the heart-shaped leaves. They did not move as vegetation anymore-- rather, they bent to her touch like a foal's toy.
A strange look flashed in her eyes.
And Discord saw something different.
Not the elderly depth of her wrinkles, not the youthful manner in which she tried to move, but something ageless. Something… serpentine.
Suddenly, Discord found himself wondering if the texture of Mistmane's skin was due to age or to some otherworldly reptilian transformation. Draconic, almost. Like scales or scaly-skin or hairy scales or--
"What else might it be?" Mistmane asked.
Discord cocked his head.
Nopony had asked that of him before.
He took a deep breath. "Well, I suppose you could go predictable with a flower," he said.
The plastic bud unfurled, and an unassuming blue flower bloomed from its center. Nothing special-- a few petals, a bit of yellow at the center.
"Then, of course, you could go big," he said, tugging on one of the petals, "with a really big flower."
As he pulled, the flower ballooned in size, growing so large that Mistmane had to scurry backwards to get out of its way. Still, though, she stared at it, jaw slack, eyes wide with wonder.
"I'd recommend something a little more creative, though." With both hands, Discord shoved the flower back into its bud. It zipped up like a jacket. "Perhaps something to eat? A muffin?"
He removed his claw, and a warm blueberry muffin topped with sugary crumbles popped out of the ground.
"Maybe an animal?"
He poked the muffin back into the earth, only for a mole to burst out from underneath his talon. It scampered off between Mistmane's front hooves, and she bent down to watch it leap into the bushes behind her.
"Precious jewels?"
A small stream of tiny, cut gemstones stung up from the ground like a miniature geyser. They caught the sunlight and sent multicolored sparkles in every direction.
"Like I said--" Discord snapped his claws a final time, and the bud poked back into existence "--it's nothing profound. Just a court jester making jokes."
Mistmane was silent.
She stared down at the bud. Discord tried to lean forward to catch a glimpse of what it was that burned in her eyes, but he couldn't quite pin it down. Confusion? Anger?
"Sorry to disappoint," Discord said with a nonchalant shrug.
"But you haven't," Mistmane said quickly, her eyes turning back up to Discord. "Don't you understand? I see things the way they are. What you see is far more valuable: possibility."
Discord considered that, though not for long.
"Pfft." He waved his claw dismissively. "You're making a mountain out of a molehill, Misty."
"Oh! Could you do that?" Mistmane asked. "Make a mountain from a molehill. A real one."
Discord blinked.
He searched the unicorn's face for some sign of exaggeration or dishonesty, perhaps even the ridicule, but found that she was entirely genuine. Only eyes which glinted with possibility.
"Certainly," Discord said. "It's a parlor trick, really."
"You must show me," Mistmane insisted.
She grabbed Discord's claw in her forehooves, gripping it with a warmth and intensity that shot right through to the draconequus' heart. It was the sort of touch that Discord rarely felt-- enthusiastic, but not angry. Passionate, but not afraid.
"Tomorrow," Mistmane said. "Come back tomorrow, and we can go out somewhere and you can make me a mountain. I'd love to see how you do it."
Discord had never been a creature of routine.
Even now, Discord resented routine in all of its forms. Anything predictable or reliable gave him a queasy feeling in his stomach and a lightheadedness that threatened to float him off into the clouds. It was more than boredom; it was a fish out of water.
That said, Discord quickly fell into a routine with the gardener.
He came to her home practically every day, always showing off for her out in the garden. Occasionally, the pair would go further afield, daring to fool about with reality in any place far enough away from general society.
Discord grew accustomed to narrating his thoughts. Mistmane wished to hear them, after all.
At the same time, Discord learned to listen. How many new possibilities sprung up from understanding the way such a different pony thought. How she saw the world. How she saw beauty in the most unassuming things, and a soul-deep ugliness in even the most well-loved of ponies.
"What a buffoon," she had commented under her breath as the two of them pony-watched in the town square.
Discord had followed her gaze, and seen that she'd sneered at none other than Prince Blueblood, apparently visiting on royal business. He high-stepped through the town with his entourage of guards, other ponies pointing and whispering in the presence of royalty.
"Blueblood?" Discord asked. "You know him?"
"I don't have to," Mistmane murmured. "It's written all over his face. Don't you see it? Pompous and self-important."
Discord had looked.
And, though he probably didn't see what Mistmane saw, he saw something. A way of looking down upon the masses. A way of conducting himself that said he was mightier than all the rest.
What he saw in Blueblood began to translate to others. As much as he butted heads with Twilight, he saw her so much deeper. He saw her kindness and her compassion, the friendship she gave so freely, and the beauty of all of those things.
The friction remained. But Discord understood it better. And he didn't get quite so angry over it anymore.
In the same way, Mistmane's creativity seemed to bloom. Rather than merely watch as Discord wove chaos around them, Mistmane would occasionally toss out suggestions. At first, Discord had felt a bit like a performer in an improv troupe, but he quickly learned to love Mistmane's unique brand of creativity and wit.
"There are subtleties to these things, beastie," she had explained. "You can't simply wack ponies over the head with your practical jokes. We're giving reality a twist, not rewriting it top to bottom."
Discord had paused, turning away from the meaningless colors and shapes which now hung from the fruit trees in Mistmane's orchard. "Well, how would you do it?"
Mistmane had considered the trees, then sighed. "They're orange trees, yes?"
"They were."
"Then you should fill them with other orange things," Mistmane instructed.
Discord arched a brow. "I don't follow."
"Carrots! Pumpkins! Traffic cones!" Mistmane laughed. "Then it's still an orange tree, don't you see? Elegance in comedy."
"The student has become the master, I see," Discord had said, waving his claw to wipe the slate clean. "Only I'll need more than three orange things to fill all of these trees."
Perhaps it was silly, and even a little frivolous, but Discord and Mistmane traded in these sorts of frivolities. The both of them knew better than anyone the power of having fun, of searching for hidden beauties, of doing things not strictly necessary, and yet things which made life so much richer.
And, all the while, the two of them grew together.
What began as an academic alliance, a curiosity, began to change. They drew together as beings displaced from time. They reminisced about eras few alive could remember.
It was rather nice.
And yet, as nice as it was, Discord still felt woozy from time to time.
He told himself that it was the routine. That he wasn't used to such strict boundaries on his time. But he truly loved her.
It.
He loved it.
The visits, of course.
The problem was that there was a rock in his gut. A hot one. He. Could feel it when he visited, when she held onto him to steady herself, when she laughed at his wit or looked into his eyes as he spoke.
Discord had spent some time rooting around for it, of course, but turned up no such rock. He also didn't find any butterflies, or even something angrier like wasps or parasprites.
Nothing.
Just him.
And a burning question.
The question had occurred to Discord immediately, of course. How could it not? When a pony claims to see you, how could you not want to know how you are seen?
But he pushed it down.
He held his tongue, even as he ran his mouth.
He didn't want to know.
What if it was bad?
What if he was even more of a monster deeper down?
What if she only saw him as a silly little court jester, bells jingling as he trotted about the garden?
But the days turned to weeks.
And weeks turned to months.
And the question burned brighter all the time.
The visit which changed things was, on all accounts, quite the same as any other visit. Mistmane and Discord had arranged it the previous day ("Same time tomorrow?" "As always, beastie"), and Discord now stood dutifully outside of Mistmane's door, one claw raised to knock.
He always knocked. He had spooked her a few times by popping right into the room, and so he always knocked.
It was a bit grey out today. Winter was on its way, and the sky showed it. It was the sort of cold you could see, even though there wasn't a flake of snow to prove in. Just those low November skies bearing down on the world.
Discord was cold.
He wanted a cup of tea.
And yet he couldn't knock.
He wanted to figure out how to ask her. A sneaky way, perhaps. Some backdoor secret to knowing what she really thought of him.
His magic would make it easy, he thought.
But then he couldn't do that to her, he thought stronger.
He wasn't exactly sure how long he stood on Mistmane's stoop, only that, eventually, the door swung open of its own accord.
"Beastie!" Mistmane exclaimed. "I was wondering where you'd got to."
The question caught.
"Discord?" Mistmane stepped forward, gazing up into her friend's face. "Are you alright?"
"What do you see?"
Mistmane cocked her head. She didn't say anything, only patiently waited for Discord to elaborate.
"When you look," Discord said, feeling somewhat out of breath, "what do you see?"
"Oh." Mistmane bit her lip. "I was wondering why you hadn't asked yet. I thought it was… why don't you come inside?"
"Just tell me," Discord said. "I can take it."
Mistmane looked down at the ground. She seemed to be thinking very hard, her teeth grinding against each other, her eyes flicking over the stone porch like a nervous bird. She shuffled her hooves a bit before finally looking up again.
Discord braced himself for the worst.
"I think you're one of the most beautiful creatures I've had the good fortune of meeting," she said softly.
The words floated up into the autumn sky.
Discord was frozen to the spot. Unable to think. Unable to reply. Certainly unable to move or blink or breathe.
Mistmane cleared her throat. "You give yourself so little credit. But the way you move through the world, having the abilities that you have…" She trailed off, paused, and tried again. "You see everything that the world could be, and you choose to make it wonderful. And fun. And exciting. That is beautiful."
"Organized chaos," Discord blurted out.
Mistmane blinked. "Pardon?"
"That's what they say creativity is," Discord went on. "Organized chaos. And I-- up until I'd met you, I didn't think that at all. But that's precisely what you are, Misty. I don't have to see the possibilities with you, because you seize them yourself. And I quite enjoy it."
Mistmane chuckled. "I quite enjoy you as well, beastie."
They were quiet.
A light breeze blew over Discord, and he shivered at the way it cut through him.
"And I think you're rather beautiful yourself," Discord added. "I-In case that wasn't clear."
Mistmane smiled. "Why don't you come inside?" she asked, swinging the door open wide. "I'd like to hear more about your world now that I'm in it."
