“Here’s my report, Sunny.”
“Thanks, Sweets,” Sunny said, looking up from her blueprints. “Just set it right there, and I’ll look at it in a bit.” She pointed to an empty corner on her kitchen table next to the blueprints she’d been studying. Sweets set the folder down.
“Hey, it’s getting late, so I’m heading home for the night, okay?” Sweets asked.
“No problem,” Sunny answered. “Once I get the report from Toots, that should be everything.” Sweets nodded and walked out what was left of the doorway.
Sunny looked back over the blueprints. She had never been a builder by any stretch, but she was asked to look over them to see if there were any changes that needed to be made. She looked back up at the remains of her lighthouse; it was surprising how much damage one war machine could do, even if it was piloted by Sprout--or maybe it was because Sprout was piloting it. Either way, she was glad to start fixing it up. Phyllis had even offered the resources of Canterlogic to help with the repairs, reasoning it had been her company, and her son, that were responsible for the damage. Sunny wasn’t going to take advantage of her for that, but it would certainly make the job that much easier.
Sunny turned her attention to Sweets’ report. As part of her deal with Canterlogic, she enlisted Phyllis’ secretaries to help with inventory, going through the wreckage to see what had survived the destruction. Sunny was especially worried about the collection of artifacts her father had found over the years. Looking at Sweets’ report, it seemed like several were still intact, so much so that, even with Sweets’ limited knowledge of these artifacts, her descriptions allowed Sunny to tell right away which ones she was talking about.
Satisfied for now, she put the report aside. She looked around the room; if Sweets had finished, her partner, Toots, wouldn’t have been much further along.
Minutes passed, but she never even heard footsteps.
That’s weird, Sunny thought. Toots had always been just as reliable as Sweets when it came to their secretarial duties; it wouldn’t have taken him this long to finish up. She got up from her seat. Last I remember, he was in the basement.
The door to the basement was still open, so she walked in. The place was a mess, though thankfully, that wasn’t saying much. Even before Sprout’s rampage, this area had always been cluttered, even when she was a foal. She’d always meant to organize it better, but she’d never gotten around to it, daunted by the sheer quantity of trinkets and treasures her father had brought home.
“Toots?” she called out. “You still here?” No answer. She walked further into the heaps.
The room was dark, with only light being a single bulb that survived, and it was one the other side of the room. Coupled with the late hour, it was downright murky. What I wouldn’t give to have that horn back, she thought. At least its own light would be enough down here. Unfortunately for her, that horn, as well as the wings that came with it, had faded after about a day. She was curious as to what they really were, how they worked, and maybe even if she could use them again; but the repairs came first.
She turned a corner around another pile, just under the one working light. She jumped when she saw a figure on the other side, but sighed when she realized who it was. “Toots!” she called.
The blue pony jumped himself upon hearing his name. He looked at Sunny. “Oh! Sunny. I didn’t see you there.”
“Didn’t hear me either,” Sunny added. She walked up to him. “I called out for you earlier, but you didn’t answer.”
“Oh, sorry,” Toots said. “I guess I was just distracted.” He turned back to where he was facing. Sunny looked too; it was a painting of a grand building with several unicorns flocking around it.
“Never knew you had a thing for art,” Sunny said.
Toots shrugged. “It’s more of a passing interest, but it is something I enjoy.”
“I don’t know,” Sunny said playfully, “most ‘passing interests’ don’t take until sundown to enjoy.”
“Wait, what?” Toots asked. “Is that the…? Oh, man, I’m sorry, Sunny. I was just completing my report and I saw this and…” He sighed with a grunt.
“Hey, it happens.” Sunny put a hoof on his shoulder. She decided to indulge him a little. “So, what drew you to this?”
Toots paused for a bit before speaking. “Well, mostly the style. You don’t see too many paintings like this anymore. The brushwork is unique, almost like the artist was trying to make it look like it came out of a foal’s storybook but wanted that air of grandeur.”
“Well, there’s a reason you don’t see paintings like this,” Sunny said. “According to my dad, this was painted hundreds of years ago.”
“Really?” Toots asked. He looked at the painting again. “I guess that begs just one question. What is this a painting of?”
“Dad told me it was some kind of unicorn school,” Sunny answered.
“That explains the unicorns, at least,” Toots mused.
“In his notes, Dad mentioned that some unicorns were so talented with their magic, they had a special school dedicated to learning everything about it. Dad figured that whoever painted this must have lived during that time, or maybe some time after it closed down.”
“So, where did he get it?” Toots asked. “I imagine a painting with unicorns as its subject wouldn’t be something you just come across.”
“Oh, there’s a story to tell,” Sunny said, with a hint of both mirth and sorrow. “Dad bought this about a year before I was born. At the time, he was always looking for artifacts or proof of any kind to prove his theories about unicorns and pegasi. He went to a street market one day outside the town and met an art dealer who had this painting.” She stepped toward the painting. “You notice these imperfections right here?” she asked as she pointed at one of the unicorns.
Toots moved in closer to where Sunny was pointing. “I think so. Kind of looks like part of it is faded, almost at the horn…” He thought for a moment and cast his gaze elsewhere on the painting. “Actually, it looks like that’s true of all the unicorns.”
“When he bought it,” Sunny explained, “Dad noticed that the horns had been painted out, making them look like earth ponies.”
“Why would someone do that?” Toots asked.
“Dad had two theories,” Sunny said. “Best case scenario, an earth pony had the painting and wanted to sell it but figured they couldn’t if it made unicorns look good. Worst case,they simply found it just that unbelievable that unicorns could be like this.”
Toots looked down, like he was apologetic. “I’ll admit, I wouldn’t have believed it not even a week ago.”
“Dad managed to restore the painting to its true form as best he could. Then he tried to present it to everypony, trying to show them how unicorns were nothing like how they were depicted. And for a moment, it seemed to work.” Sunny sighed sadly. “That’s when it all went wrong. Turns out the same art dealer was in the crowd, and he claimed Dad was the one who made an alteration to the painting. Dad could only dispute the accusation so much, having bought the painting from him, and once the imperfections were made clear, that was it.” She sighed again. “He still kept the painting, but he always considered that day to be one of his biggest setbacks.”
There was a heavy silence for a moment.
“I’m sorry, Sunny,” Toots said.
Sunny looked up, confused by the sudden apology.
“I think it’s just now hitting me how… terrible we’ve been. We’d spent our whole lives believing unicorns and pegasi were evil creatures, waiting for the right moment to strike. But we’d never once considered the opposite, never once questioned why we thought what we did. And when ponies like you or Argyle came up and challenged what we thought, we just brushed you off, thought you were crazy.” He looked away from the painting and around the room. “And look where it led. We allowed ourselves to form a mob against a threat that never existed. And you’re the one who ended up paying the consequences for our actions. So… Sorry.”
Sunny took a moment to think about what Toots was saying. Then she wrapped a foreleg around him. Toots looked surprised for a bit before Sunny spoke. “It’s okay. I don’t blame anypony. Sprout maybe deserves the most blame, and even then, he’s got… issues,” she tried to say politely. “Besides, maybe my usual methods weren’t the best way to get my point across, just telling everypony what I thought and expecting them all to agree with me against countless years of fear and bigotry.”
“I still feel bad about letting this happen, though,” Toots pointed out.
“Tell you what,” Sunny offered. “Why don’t we just agree that nopony’s perfect and worry about making things right.”
Toots was silent for a moment, but eventually, he said, “Yeah, that sounds fair.” He pulled away from Sunny’s embrace and picked up a clipboard off the floor. “In that case, maybe this’ll help. It’s my inventory report. I just hope my distraction didn’t impact it.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Sunny said with a small giggle. “Why don’t you head home? It was already late when I started looking for you.”
Toots chuckled sheepishly. “Right. See you.” Having said his good-bye, he walked toward the exit.
Sunny gave the report a glance, then she looked back up at the painting. She stared at the school building and the many unicorns around it.
“Maybe one day,” she thought to herself before walking out of the basement.
Author's Note
Thought I'd do something different to help me get back in the writing game. This contest, where five, almost random subjects are the prompt, seemed like a good challenge for me when it was announced. If you're curious, the prompt was
Sunny Starscout -----> ...is looking for... -----> Toots -----> Art -----> School for Gifted Unicorns
Basically, I just had to put all of those into a story. Figuring out how these all would fit was the hard part, but once that was established, the story started to take shape almost on its own.
Hope you enjoyed this.
