But I'm Gonna Be a Geode Someday
“Come on, and – ugh!”
With a loud pop, Maud felt herself get tugged out of the crack in the ground. She skidded over the hard earth, scraping up gravel, until she finally came to a stop, splayed out on her torso.
After a few moments, Maud lifted her focus from the gap she’d been stuck in just prior, and looked up to a none-too-happy gray filly, panting hard. Once she caught her breath, and turned towards Maud, she was sporting more than her usual scowl.
“Okay, sis,” Limestone said. She came over and pulled Maud up. It was sudden enough that Maud stumbled before she found her balance. “That’s the last time I’m pulling you out of a hole! Can’t you watch what you’re doing? I can’t eyeball you all the time while I’m working!”
“I’m sorry.” Maud kept still as Limestone ran her leg through Maud’s mane and flecked loose grit out. “I saw a rare rock down there. It might have been pumice. Or maybe andesite. I couldn’t see well down there. There’s lots of volcanic rocks it could be.”
Limestone made a show of rubbing Maud’s back more roughly. “You know,” she said while she went to Maud’s side, “even in a family that farms them, there’s such a thing as being too interested in rocks.” She bit down on Maud's tail, then moved herself down it, the odd grit bouncing off Maud’s flank. “Rocks or not, if Ma and Pa don’t tell us something, we don’t need it.” With Maud clean, she walked past, jerking her head to follow.
“I’m sorry.” Maud trotted forward on her stubby legs as Limestone returned to her dropped pickaxe. “I really like rocks. Plus, the more volcanic rocks I get to know, the easier it’ll be to find the stone on Hearth’s Warming first.”
“That again?” Groaning loudly, Limestone swiped up her tool, then made for the rock she’d been chipping away at. “You know, some ponies might consider that cheating.” The pickaxe clenched in her teeth, Limestone brought it down sharply. A crack crept further across the rock’s surface.
Maud watched her sister for a while. Limestone eventually broke the rock into neat sections, then added them to a small cart nearby. It was nothing Maud hadn’t seen before, but as she wasn’t strong enough yet to pull the cart or wield tools, she couldn’t do much else but wait for Limestone to stop paying attention to her again.
Limestone turned from the cart, and noticed Maud watching. Maud remained stoic, waiting for her to resume work without comment, or groan loudly again, as she often did.
Instead, Limestone sighed, and not that roughly either. She approached until she was right above, her chest level with Maud’s head.
“Look, sis, I get all this is interesting for you. But think about me for a moment.” Limestone sat on the earth, closer to eye level. “This is the first time both Ma and Pa are gone since I started working. If I do a good job alone, they’ll show me more advanced farming. But I can’t do a good job if I’m distracted by you.” She angled out a hindleg, and Maud sat herself on it. Limestone looked down to her again. “You get that, don’t you?”
As Maud thought on the question, Limestone waited, her ever-present scowl set in a flatter line. Half a year ago, Limestone would have demanded an answer after ten seconds of silence, but by now she seemed to understand that Maud found questions hard when they didn’t involve rocks.
“Yes.” Maud said eventually. Before Limestone’s frown could loosen in response, however, Maud continued. “But you’re supposed to watch me. That’s why I kept to this part of the farm.”
Limestone’s mouth twisted, but she didn’t reply. She cocked her head, eyeballing Maud. Maud tilted her head too, trying to be as firm. After all, Limestone was the only one beside their parents who could tell when Maud tried to be intense.
Limestone broke first. With a small sigh, she nudged Maud out, then stood up. She picked up her pickaxe, then went over to the hole Maud had been wedged in earlier. She brought it down sharply once, then twice. On the third time, the ground cracked further, fragments collapsing in and widening the hole. Limestone bent down and craned her neck in.
Maud cocked her head again. Even as well as she knew Limestone, she wasn’t sure what this was.
Limestone leaned back up, a light gray rock decorated with flecks of black in her teeth. “Here.” She spat it onto her hoof, then held it out. “Promise you won’t leave the house alone, and when I’m done, I’ll watch you. Then you can check all the rocks you want.”
Maud wasn’t sure how to take this. She looked up to the sky, past the snow covering much of the farm and the hills beyond. To judge from the sun’s position, it wasn’t far past midday. Limestone could easily finish by evening. On the other hoof, she might keep working just to avoid having to keep her promise. She’d done things like that before.
Limestone sighed again, then stuck her hoof out further. The corner of her mouth curled up the barest fraction.
“Okay.” Maud took the rock. She didn’t thank Limestone, for she knew Limestone didn’t like that. That was okay. Limestone had put effort into knowing what Maud wanted. And Maud knew her sister. Accepting the deal and just doing it would please her more than any words could.
Maud turned and began the long walk back to the house. She didn’t need to look back to know Limestone wouldn’t stop watching until Maud was inside. That’s how Pie sisters were.
Halfway across the field, Maud took a look at the rock. Just ordinary granite. Pumice was a lighter shade, and smoother than even this round pebble.
It was not uncommon for Maud to get lost in her thoughts when left to them. And right now, the thought of Hearth’s Warming in a few days swirled around like lava before it solidified to igneous. She’d have the traditional delicious rock soup, make her first rock doll without assistance – she’d been practicing, of course – and best of all, she had a real chance to find the obsidian stone first, and raise the flag. She might even find somepony’s presents.
All this kept her off the long wait in store while Limestone worked. No matter if she wanted to, Maud wouldn’t break a Pie Sister promise. No leaving the house alone. And so, she headed for the stairs, intent on adding this newest find to her rock collection. She had plenty of granite already, but this specimen was smooth enough that it might replace an older one.
A few steps up, Maud paused. She heard something. Not in the attic bedroom ahead, but behind and to the side, in the kitchen. She hadn’t noticed, with all the time she’d needed to settle on what to do. Now she listened, she could make out hooves moving back and forth.
Maybe Limestone had changed her mind? Seeing no reason to hesitate, Maud went back down and made for the kitchen. She was old enough to go in alone, long as she didn’t touch anything.
It was quite a sight. Cabinet dishes were out of place, and the jug on the corner stand was upside down and three-quarters of an inch off its usual spot. Even a portrait had been tilted.
Definitely not Limestone. Pa had only let her start helping with meals a few months back, and Maud had overheard the lecture on putting everything back in its proper spot from upstairs. This was most odd.
Shelves shifting reached Maud’s ears. She turned. One storage cupboard was open, and somepony was behind the door. They couldn’t be an adult, for no head poked above. As Maud stared, confused at this strange sight, she finally heard them speak.
“More stones? You’d think these ponies ate rocks…”
Maud blinked. Even she didn’t state the obvious like that. But the mention of rocks had triggered a decisive part of her. She took a few steps forward.
“Excuse me.”
A loud bang against wood followed. “Ow!” Hooves stepped out from behind the door, revealing a filly, massaging her head with one eye clenched. She was a bright pink, and had a purple mane with streaks of blue, wrapped up in buns like Ma’s. Except there were two, and they were far messier. Finally, she was taller than Limestone, but not by much.
And… and she has a short pointy horn on top of her head.
“Uh…” Now the pony had recovered, she stared at Maud, wide-eyed. “I, uh – ” Her eyes darted to the living room door and back again. “I know I’m not supposed to be here, but… you see, I…”
“You’re a unicorn.”
The stranger paused. She looked up to her horn, and her eyes furrowed. Then she turned back to Maud, who hadn’t moved from the entrance.
“Um… yeah.” She cocked her head, not unlike when Limestone tried to puzzle out Maud. “Do you not get any unicorns around here?” Though older, her voice was higher than not just Limestone’s, but Maud’s.
Maud didn’t see a need to answer this. You couldn’t go through Rockville and not realize everyone there was an earth pony. Not getting a new question to confuse Maud, however, let her recall one of her own.
“That’s our cupboard.” She pointed at the cabinets. “And those are our dishes.” As she pointed next at the jug and portrait, the pony followed, noticing her trail of evidence. “Pa says you have to put everything back exactly as it was.”
“I…” The pony wilted. “I know it’s wrong. I didn’t mean to, but I got desperate when I couldn’t find any food.”
“Food?” Maud took note of the decorative rocks on the hall stand behind her. They weren’t for consumption, but this stranger didn’t know that. Odd to pass them by.
“Yeah.” The pony glanced left, right, and behind her. “You see…” She clenched her eyes shut. “I’m really hungry, and I haven’t got any bits.”
Her belly rumbled, and the unicorn looked down, startled. When she lifted her head up, a weak grin was on her face.
Maud considered this. Strangers who had nothing to give but needed to eat were rare, but not unheard of. Maud had seen Ma or Pa answer the door to them. And they always gave them some. It was the Pie way, to not turn away a pony in need.
“Here.” Maud walked past the pony, who shrank back even though Maud didn’t touch her. Maud reached into the open cupboard, and pulled out two eating stones. “Take these. No charge.”
The filly, if anything, was even more confused. “But… those are rocks.” She cocked her head again. “I need food.”
“Yes.” Maud said. She held the rocks out. “I eat one for dinner, so two should do for a pony your size.”
Maud’s words were followed by a very long silence. This time, the stranger didn’t move, except for the occasional twitch of an eye. Distantly, Maud heard Limestone pulling her cart outside.
“You… actually eat rocks.” The pony shook her head, and stepped back slightly. For whatever reason, this normal fact of life had baffled this pony nearly twice Maud’s size. Of course ponies ate rocks. Her reaction reminded Maud of when she’d seen her first pegasus, a wandering street performer. All his tricks using wings had thrown her for a loop.
“How…” The unicorn leaned forward and looked Maud in the eye. Her nostrils flared. “How do you not break your teeth?”
Maud’s confusion faded at this. Even Pie ponies could chip a tooth if they weren’t careful. And when they did, and couldn’t chew rocks…
“You want food that isn’t rocks?” Maud asked. She gestured around the room. “Put everything back exactly as it was first, please.”
The pony finished another portion of baby food with a loud guzzle. Flecks of the stuff covered her cheeks. Noticing this, she grinned, then licked them off with her tongue.
“You really are hungry.” Maud leapt off her bed and sat in front of the unicorn on the floor. She had made it clear the pony couldn’t sit on Limestone’s bed. “I grew my last teeth in nearly a year ago, and before then, I never ate that fast.”
“That’s why you have this stuff?” The pony picked up the next packet, staring at it. “I did wonder why it was here. I stopped eating it when I was half your age.”
Maud didn’t have anything to say to this. If soft food kept, you saved it for when you couldn’t chew rocks, simple as. She sat while the pony tore into the food.
Looking at her up close, Maud could see signs of wear. She’d clearly been walking for ages. Dirt on her body, her mane was unkempt, one bun’s string was loose, and in her tail, there were flecks of –
“You came from the Smokey Mountains,” Maud said.
Instantly, the unicorn choked. She coughed loudly, hitting her chest before she swallowed.
“What?” She clasped the packet tight, glaring at Maud. “What makes you think that?”
“There’s some andesite in your tail.” Maud pointed to the short crop curled on the floor behind her guest. “You get rocks like that on mountains.”
The filly turned to her tail. She picked it up in her hoof, and watched a few specks trickle out onto the wood.
“Oh.” She looked back to Maud slowly, and her legs relaxed. “I guess you know all about rocks.”
Maud shrugged. “I try.” She stood and gestured to the pony’s tail. “Can I have the rest?”
“Uh, sure.” The pony moved slightly and raised her tail. She shook herself a few times, and the rest all fell out, rolling in different directions.
Though aware of a weak grin on her guest, Maud paid it no heed as she gathered up the grit. Once done, she walked to the shelf in the corner. Among the systematically-organized rocks, there lay a few jars. She picked out one labeled “Midwest Equestria” and added them to the sizable chunk inside.
“Is that your, uh, rock collection?”
“Yes.” Maud didn’t turn around as she replaced the jar, then went to the end, where her other newest rock lay with its granite brothers. If it concerned rocks, she could talk and do all at once. “With the andesite, I’m up to thirty-six kinds now.”
“Let me get this straight.” The pony paused to chew and swallow. “Your family farms rocks, eats them… and you collect them too?”
“Yes.” Maud held her newest rock and moved it slowly down the granite column, comparing its smoothness and texture to the others. “We've farmed and mined rocks for generations.”
“I guess that makes sense.” More loud chewing. “But why do you collect them?”
Maud shrugged. It was a question she’d been asked before. “I like rocks. Each one carries a history of many years. Sometimes thousands. You can tell so much just from their surface. Much easier than ponies.” She stopped at a chipped chunk of clastic granite, and replaced it with her new addition. “Plus, they always accept you and stick by you.”
When Maud was done, she saw the pony wasn’t eating, but instead staring at the shelf. “Huh.” Her mouth twisted, and she cocked her head. “I never thought about them like that.”
Maud returned to her bed, and watched the pony finish another portion of toddler food. Her speed has slowed a little, but she clearly had enough stamina for the last one.
As the pony started on the final packet, she turned to Maud. Her eyes drifted past. “You don’t have a cutie mark yet.” The stranger’s face relaxed, and she tore it open and resumed.
Maud angled her neck, eyeing her blank flank. “No.” Odd thing to note, but that was fast becoming a norm for this pony. Maybe unicorns were just weird like that. “Nopony gets them at my age. But I know what it will be.”
“What?” The unicorn scrambled to her hooves. In an instant, she was in front of Maud, legs clasped on the bed. “How can you know that?” She leaned closer, and Maud had to draw back when their faces almost touched. Maud felt her ragged breath. “Is that a thing with ponies round here? You can tell what cutie mark a pony will get? Or is it a rock farmer thing?” The pony’s eyes quivered. This close, Maud could see her pupils vibrating. They were the size of grit.
“Can…” After a moment, she stepped back down onto the floorboards. Her eyes returned to normal. When she spoke, she was somehow shaking both more and less than when she had been in Maud’s face. “Can you tell what kind of cutie mark I’ll get?”
While the filly breathed, and her shoulders sagged, Maud’s mind raced. It was a lot to take in, and barely involved rocks. What did Ma always say when things were too much? Look at each part on its own. Maud leaned back up, and though looking at the other pony, she couldn’t have been more detached from the present.
Cutie marks. Other ponies’ cutie marks. Knowing your cutie mark before you got it. Maud being able to tell what mark somepony would get. This pony wanting to know what mark she’d get.
“Uh, are you there?” The unicorn cocked her head, then waved her hoof. “Sorry if I got a bit intense. It’s just… if I knew what I’d get, I…”
Aware of reality again, and with her thoughts concrete, Maud focused on the pony’s flank, to confirm what the question seemed to say. Sure enough, it was blank, despite her age.
Was this the most unusual thing thus far?
“I meant that my family gets rock cutie marks,” Maud said. She saw the pony blink in the kind of way Maud did when looking in a mirror. “And I like rocks, so I will too. I don’t know what about rocks my destiny will be, but it’ll be about rocks. I can’t tell what anypony else will get.”
A silence followed. The pony’s cheeks sagged like letting the air out of a hollow, overheated crystal. She looked like Limestone when her first attempt at farming went bad and she’d been denied another chance for a month.
Eventually, a small smile appeared. “Right. Yes, of course.” She picked up her food and her grin stretched wider. “Forget I said anything.” She resumed eating, and Maud was left to watch again.
Strangely, despite having many thoughts, and the lack of rocks in them, it wasn’t difficult to think on more than one. She didn’t know if it was the holidays, or this pony, but Maud had noticed more about her in this short time than she had about many ponies beyond the family in months. But she only knew a little.
There were many things she didn’t know. And she wasn’t good at questions.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” Maud said. The pony looked up, her cheeks stuffed with the last of the toddler food. “It’s cold, and the ground is rough. You’ve traveled a lot. You shouldn’t be alone with no food or bits. You should be home.”
The pony swallowed, and slowly lowered the final packet down. She looked off to the side, though her eyes glanced back every few seconds. “I… I can’t be there.” She sniffled. “Not after…” She trembled, and took a gulp of air. “Everywhere I’ve been, ponies keep bringing it up.”
She turned back, and despite herself, Maud started ever so slightly. This filly was crying. Tears trickled down her face and fell to the floor, one after the other.
“You didn’t ask for ages… I thought you were different…” She shook, then noticed the mess she was in. She turned away, trying and failing to hide herself.
Instantly, Maud did what Ma or Pa would have done. She leapt off her bed, then plucked some tissues out of a square box. There was no room for tears, they always said.
Upon being prodded gently, and noticing the offer, the unicorn sniffled again, but it was smaller this time. “Thanks.” Taking them, she blew her nose, then wiped her face. Once she looked up, Maud gestured to a small bin in the corner. Getting the hint, the pony walked over and dropped the used paper and food wrappings there.
“You’re right. I am alone.” When she turned around, the mood that had accompanied the crying was faint. “I should probably go. Thank you for the food.” She smiled again, though it didn’t last. “Can you… please not tell anypony I was here?” With one last sigh, she turned and began to stumble down the stairs.
Alone. Something about that word triggered more thoughts. Maud pondered. She couldn’t leave the house alone, she had promised. And while this pony hadn’t made that promise, it didn’t feel right for her to be alone.
Yet if this pony left the house, she would be. Maud would also be alone if she left. Which she couldn’t, she had promised. If they both stayed here, neither of them would be alone. But this pony didn’t want to stay. And if they both left, neither would be –
“Wait.”
Maud didn’t know whether her desire to help came across. Even as the unicorn looked back, her expression, whatever it was, hadn’t changed. But her stopping was enough.
“It’s okay if you go.” Maud stepped forward to the head of the stairs. “But can you help me first?”
“Well…” The pony averted her eyes, rubbing one leg with the other. “I really should leave before your sister comes in…”
“She’ll be a while.” Maud glanced out the bedroom window. The sun’s position gave it hours before evening. “I just need some quick help with rocks.”
The pony’s eyes sprung open. “Really? Just rocks, no questions about m –” She stopped, gulped, and the calm face from after her outburst earlier returned. “Just rocks?”
“Just rocks.” Maud took two more steps down, now only a stair above the pink pony and at her eye level. “And I won’t tell anypony you were here. Promise.”
The filly’s smile stretched wider, and for the first time, didn’t seem like it would go away just as fast.
“It’s just over here.” Maud led the way around the cliff overlooking the quarry. On this side, it was a straight drop down, no sloping path. Maud leaned down and peered over the edge, and her companion followed suit. A couple pony heights down, a small outcrop poked out of the rockface. And right in the middle of it was their target.
“See that rock on the ledge?” Maud pointed down. “It’s syenite.” The unicorn squinted, making out the coarse lump of igneous that laid there.
“Uh, okay.” She turned to Maud. “Is that… rare?”
“It’s pretty uncommon round here.” Now she was on more than just basic rock facts, Maud felt more animated than ever. She even blinked mid-speech. “And this one has biotite in it. Normally when syenite is formed, all the biotite gets consumed.”
“Right…” The pony lifted up a loose chunk of ground grit nearby, and let it tumble off. “You know, I’m finding out all kinds of things I never knew about rocks. So, how did it get down there?”
“I got some rare rocks at a swap stall in town yesterday. On our way back, Limestone couldn’t see why I wanted rocks from off the farm if they weren’t going to be farmed.” Maud glanced off to the house, where on the other side, her sister was still hard at work. “While arguing, she stumbled, and I fell too. I picked up all the rocks, but I didn’t realize one was missing until bedtime.”
“Oh.” The pony too looked off to the house. Her brows furrowed rather sharply for a moment, but they were relaxed when she turned back. “So… you want to get it back?”
“Yes.” With the plan now clear, Maud leapt off the cliff. The fall to the ledge below was just long enough to wind her on impact, but she quickly shook it off. Vaguely, she heard a slight crackle, but with her prize right there, it didn’t register. She clasped the syenite lump in her teeth, then dropped it onto the sole of her hoof. She turned and found the pink pony looking down with her widest eyes thus far.
“Catch.” Maud cranked her leg back, and threw the rock upward, hard as she could. Her limbs were too short to give a proper pitch, but her innate earth strength closed part of the gap.
The unicorn started as the rock came level. She fumbled with her hooves, trying to catch it, to which the rock bounced back and forth. Finally, by throwing herself on her torso and leaning over the edge, she had it balanced precariously on her own outstretched sole.
“Got – Got it!” Clutching the rock tight, she pulled herself back over the ledge.
Maud had to admit, she was impressed with her logic. She hadn’t left the house alone, and this pony got cheered up by helping her with rocks. Rocks always cheered Maud up. And her companion seemed more open to them than the few others from out of town Maud had met.
Maybe Maud could tell her more before she left. She hadn’t even gotten to how they formed.
The unicorn returned, back on all fours. With nothing else to do, Maud stepped back slightly, making her whole body visible. “Okay. Now bring me up.”
The two stared at each other. Maud waited. This was a simple task for a pony like this. Yet she just gazed at Maud, then past her, then back.
“Um…” The filly looked past Maud, then to the wall.. “How do I do that? Even if I dangled my tail, it wouldn’t reach you.”
Maud didn’t reply for a few moments. Had this pony not realized why Maud had asked her for help, above waiting for Limestone, or even Pa? Apparently not.
“You’re a unicorn.” Maud shifted slightly to make herself even easier for this final step. “I don't weigh much. Just float me back up.”
“Oh.” The pony took a step back. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. If I use magic, I might get –” Her eyes widened, and she cut herself short. “I… I just can’t.” She gulped, but did not turn away.
Maud didn’t react to this. She knew better than that. But inwardly, she saw afresh their journey here, and the pony’s slow, meticulous process of using a long branch to sweep hoofprints away, as opposed to shifting the snow lightly with magic. Maud hadn’t noticed at the time, but now she couldn’t unsee it. And not just that, but hadn’t the unicorn physically held her food? And wasn’t it riskier to try catching a tossed rock with hooves?
Maud pondered on this, staring at the cliff face right in front of her. Rock helped gather her thoughts. She had been so certain of the task’s quickness with a unicorn, she hadn’t thought to go through it first. Now she was rather stuck.
Maud’s first idea was to send this pony to get Limestone, but she quickly squashed that. Limestone would presume Maud has broken her promise and be mad, and Ma and Pa would be even worse. And she’d promised to not tell anypony this pony was here. They’d got the rock, she had to keep her end.
“Okay.” Maud looked back to the filly above. “There’s a rope in the silo by the house. Bring it here, and –”
“No!” Instantly, the pony was upright. “You saw how long it took me to cover our tracks! Going back will mean doing that twice again! And the rope will drag in the snow, giving me even more to cover. I can’t risk staying that long.
“Uh…” She looked left and right, then stopped. A smile spread across her face. “Here.” She jogged off, and in a moment was back, the branch she had obscured their tracks with clasped under one leg. “I’ll pull you up with this. Easy peasy!”
Maud cocked her head at the branch. It was long, true, but not all that wide. “I’m not sure that will hold.”
“Psha, it’ll be fine!” The pony stretched her mouth wide, then gripped her teeth on the thick end. Pressing herself down, she angled her neck over the edge. When she stopped, the stems protruding from the branch’s end were level with Maud’s head.
Maud knew better than to bite onto those twigs. They’d snap soon as her hooves left the ground. She crouched and, with as much force as she could muster, leapt up. Unlike the unicorn, she had practice grasping things quickly, and she successfully grabbed onto a thicker branch with her teeth.
Maud felt the branch begin to rise. Feeling her hind legs wobbling below, she chanced a glance down, and instantly regretted it: on the ledge she’d been able to avoid looking, but from above, it was impossible to miss the large drop to the quarry below. She encircled her forelegs around the branch tight, and looked back up: she was halfway there.
The pink pony strained, and wrapped her own forelegs around the branch, steadying it and biting further down. With another sharp yank, it moved closer. Maud was now only her own height from the top. Nearly there, and to her recovered syenite.
CRACK.
Maud’s ears perked at this sound. She eyeballed the branch wedged in her teeth. A line had extended across the bark, and as she watched, it spread further, circling around. And it was spreading faster.
“Mm!” The pink pony must have noticed, for she pinned the branch with her body, let go of it with her mouth, and stretched out a leg. “Quick! You can reach me!”
Maud didn’t hesitate, and stretched out. Their hoofs were not even an inch apart. Leaning back, she swung, and moved forward. Their soles touched –
SNAP!
There was no time to secure her grip: Maud fell the drop back to the ledge, the branch tumbling past. Being unexpected, this fall hurt much more, so she didn’t instantly rise from her daze, her head spinning.
Another crack reached her ears. And it didn’t sound like wood.
Lifting her head, Maud saw a jagged line split across the outcrop where it met the wall. A second later, it met the other side.
Maud didn’t have time to fully process this. She looked up to the pony above, who while wide-eyed, didn’t seem to have realized what was about to happen.
The ledge broke.
The longest distance Maud had even fallen was the time last year Limestone had dared her to jump out the bedroom window to get her favorite shale back. And that had been into a cushion of snow.
This was close to ten times that drop, and onto hard earth.
Maud screamed. It was a sound she had never made before.
She flailed her legs as the ledge plummeting with her smashed into a larger outcrop. She was not so lucky, and the ground continued to race upward. Thoughts raced through her head, and she didn’t have the luxury of taking them slowly. Ma. Pa. Limestone. All the rocks she’d yet to see.
The unicorn.
Maud didn’t blame her. Maud had asked her to do this. If she’d said her plan before starting, she’d have known the unicorn couldn’t use magic, and not gotten stuck. It had been foolish to presume her idea was clear.
Right before she met the ground, Maud closed her eyes –
She heard the rubble collide, but felt nothing. Not just no impact with solid earth, but nothing touching her at all. And, strangely, she no longer felt the wind rushing past either. Now fully able to hear herself, she stopped shrieking.
There was a slight hum. She opened her eyes.
She was at the quarry’s bottom, floating just off the ground. Her body was curled in on herself, but she could see a light blue aura, keeping her suspended. Though not yelling any more, her mouth was still ajar.
She felt herself lower the remaining few inches down, and the glow vanished. Once able to move again, she looked herself over, touching her body and back legs. She wasn’t hurt at all. That aura had saved her.
An aura of magic.
Right as Maud realized what had happened, she heard another crack. Much louder. Craning her neck up, she saw the larger outcrop had split across from the ledge impacting it. And it was directly above.
The crack finished its path, and the large ledge fell. Maud winced, eyes shut – it was too close to dodge in time.
Nothing. And she heard the same aura again.
When she opened her eyes, she found the larger ledge and all the other chunks floating above, all encased in the aura. Maud could only watch, stunned, as they separated out from over her. Now her view upward wasn’t blocked, she could see a small pink speck at the cliff’s top, a tiny glow on top of the speck.
Suddenly, the glow widened, encompassing all of the pony. She floated off the edge and shot down, coming to a halt in the airborne circle of rock and earth. Her eyes were clenched, her face straining from the effort. Maud stepped backwards out of the ring, mouth still slightly ajar.
The pony glowed brightly, and a wave of bright energy shot out. Maud shielded her eyes, but it passed by with no effect.
When she looked back, the former ledge lay on the ground, split open. In direct opposition to the structure of the quarry cliff, it was hollow. And within lay numerous open rocks with sparkly insides, in all manner of colors.
The unicorn lowered down, and her aura finally faded. When she opened her eyes, and saw the end result, her jaw stretched even wider. Then she noticed Maud.
“Are…” She shook, then took a step forward. “Are you okay?”
“Y… Yes.” Realizing her own mouth was still open, Maud shut it. She felt normal levels of excitement again, now the danger was over. “Thank you for saving me.”
Both ponies breathed heavily. The unicorn let out a light chuckle, and she sat down in relief.
In lieu of that, Maud looked at the broken outcrop. You couldn’t just get geodes like this out of a cliff face. These needed many hundreds of years to settle this perfectly. It was almost like they’d been aged –
For the third time, another glow made itself known, this one white. Maud turned back, seeing it was on the pony’s flank. When she followed Maud’s line of sight, her mouth fell open.
Before their eyes, the white light faded. In its place was a dark-purple, four-sided star, four other white points poking out from it. Two streaks of the same greenish-blue in the pony’s mane and tail trailed upward from it.
It was the first time Maud had seen somepony get a cutie mark.
“N – No! No!”
The filly was even more terrified than when Maud had fallen. Her legs scrambled fast, shooting her back so quickly she stumbled and fell down, right in the mine entrance. When she looked again, her pupils shrunk even more.
“This – this wasn’t supposed to happen!” Back to heavy breaths, she was looking anywhere but her flank, Maud, or the geodes she’d produced. Which left few options, so she settled for her hooves. She reached out and prodded her own horn. Though nothing happened, she flinched, and her breathing quickened. “This is exactly what I was trying to –”
“Sis!”
The familiar voice snapped Maud upward. Way up at the cliff’s top stood the gray form of Limestone. She broke into a gallop down the path, much faster than Maud had ever seen her move.
Maud turned back to the unicorn – but she was gone. The mine shaft lay empty, nothing visible by the crystals inside before the shaft twisted. For the first time in a while, Maud had only her thoughts.
This pony could use magic. She just hadn’t wanted to. So much that she had risked using a branch instead. But even all that paled next to the last thing she had done. Only Pa’s reaction to Ma being unwell before they left this morning compared to the utter fear in the pony’s eyes Maud had just seen.
Cutie marks were supposed to be a good thing. The sign of your destiny. Maud knew not all ponies had an idea what they would get just from their family. Yet this didn’t even seem to be shock at what it was, but at getting one at all.
The filly hadn’t just not wanted a cutie mark. She was afraid of them.
Maud’s thoughts ended when she was spun around roughly. Limestone stood there, gasping hard from her run down. “What are you doing down here, sis? You promised you’d stay in the house!”
Even Maud could not miss the anger on her face, but there was something else. Something Ma and Pa had shown, but never her sister. As Limestone’s panting subsided, her rage faded, and this other expression took over.
“Maud, are you okay? I heard rocks crashing.” Limestone sat and cupped Maud’s head to face her. Her eyes, for the briefest of moments, quivered. “You’re not… hurt?”
“No.” Maud reached out, and pushed her sister’s hoof away. Already, though, her attention had left her sister’s concern, rare as it was. “I’m okay.” Maud looked towards the mine shaft, but it remained empty.
Perhaps that pony was just around the corner. Or perhaps she’d gone in very far, still distressed, for whatever reason.
“Whoa!” Limestone had followed Maud’s line of sight, only to get drawn to the bounty of geodes. “Look at all this!” She went over to one and picked it out. “There’s got to be over a hundred geodes here!” She scooped another out, comparing the purple texture of it to the blue of the first. “With all these, we could make…
Limestone stopped cold, and spun around. Her mouth was in a thin, flat line not unlike Maud’s. “Sis, did you see how this happened? Were you looking when these rocks split open?”
Maud was about to answer, when one geode caught her eye. It was a sparkly silver inside, much like the syenite she’d been so intent on.
The syenite she wouldn’t have got alone.
“No,” Maud said. She gazed up to the two indents in the quarry wall where the small and larger outcrops had once been. “When I looked away they were whole. When I looked back, they were open.” Her family was used to her only being able to focus on one question at a time, Limestone wouldn’t notice she’d only answered the second. Even though, being about rocks, she’d remembered both very clearly.
Limestone hummed softly. She paced further forward, sweeping a hoof among the geodes. Maud knew, however, that she wouldn’t realize they couldn’t have been inside the cliff. Limestone may have been into rock farming, but even at this young age, Maud knew far more about how rocks actually worked.
“Okay.” Limestone whipped around and trotted over to Maud. “Sis, this is how it’s gonna go. I took you down here during a break from the field to look at rocks over there.” Limestone gestured sharply to a corner near the bottom of the sloping path. “We were well out of range when that fell, and in no danger. We didn’t see how they broke, or the impact.” She pointed back at the fresh bounty. “We only saw the end result.
“And…” Limestone clenched her teeth, then breathed out. “We wouldn’t have been here to see it without you, so you’ll get the credit for finding it.” She stepped close, and thrust her hoof out. “Got all that?”
Maud hesitated. This story did only credit her for finding the geodes, not making them. And while taking even this credit didn’t feel right, the alternative was… breaking a promise whose other end had been fulfilled.
“Okay.” Maud raised her small hoof and pressed it against Limestone’s. “We only saw the end result from the other side down here.”
“Great!” Not missing a beat, Limestone moved to the path. “Let’s get the cart and load up. This’ll take hours, but if we finish before Ma and Pa get back, they’ll be real proud.”
She paused in her walk. Maud couldn’t see her face, so she came round to Limestone’s front. She was staring ahead, looking again much like Maud herself often did.
“Of both of us.” Limestone resumed her walk. Maud hastened to walk faster and keep up, for Limestone, even here, was too excited to slow down for Maud’s sake. As they walked up the path, Maud got one last look at the mine shaft.
There was still no sign of anything in there, nor a sound.
Ma and Pa had indeed been very proud. They came home just as Limestone brought up the last cartload to the silo, and once they'd heard the story, congratulated Maud on finding them and Limestone on storing them. It gave them something to celebrate, selling these extra finds after Hearth’s Warming.
After the excitement at this had died down, though, and they’d promised to stay away from the quarry until Pa made sure it was structurally sound, Ma and Pa said they had some more news.
They were getting another sister or a brother.
Two things to celebrate meant a bonus helping of rocks for dinner, and Ma even cooked the soup with the rare chili that gave it a great kick. Limestone had gone back to her usual self at the second news – even Maud could tell why, given how often she made out watching Maud was a chore – but had kept it down off a stern look from Pa, and done her best to keep it at bay as she helped Ma cook.
Between the meal, the geodes, and news of a baby, Maud was happy enough she almost smiled. She loved Limestone, but getting somepony less rough than coarse sandstone, and who might like rocks for rocks’ sake as much as her, or at least closer… It was a nice thought.
While Limestone helped put the plates away, Maud trotted upstairs, holding a tube with a candle in it. Something she’d gotten able to balance going up stairs that summer, so she didn’t need to be tucked into bed anymore.
Upon reaching her bed, though, Maud stopped. It wasn’t as she'd left it. The indent on the sheet where she’d sat earlier had been smoothed out. And there was a small rock on the pillow.
If there was one thing Maud didn’t do, it was leave her rocks indoors anywhere but her collection.
Maud stepped closer, and picked it up. The smallest flecks of snow were on it, but even through that, she instantly saw it was syenite.
Maud lowered the rock, and stared out the window. Thin snow fell from the sky, but it didn’t obstruct the wide view of the farm, the surrounding hills, and the road to Rockville.
She couldn’t see anypony.
As Maud turned back to her bed, something caught her eye. A slip of brown paper, the kind Pa used for keeping track of rocks set aside for sales, poked out from under the pillow.
Maud cocked her head. That definitely hadn’t been there before.
She pulled it out, and found it blank. When she flipped it around, though, she saw it was written on. But it wasn’t Pa’s. The ink wasn’t laid out in rows with numbers or gaps, several words were crossed out, and the hoofwriting was totally different. Yet said hoofwriting was far neater too. Almost like the quill had been held by…
Maud went to her rock collection and made space for the syenite, next to the jar that housed the fresh andesite fragments. Once she’d gotten into bed, she leaned near the side, held the note near the candle on the floor for light, and started to read.
FillyRock FillyMawdMaud Maude,
By the time you read this, I'll be far away. Please, don't tell anypony about me or show this to anypony else.
Being with you was some of the best time I've had in ages. Ever since I ra left home, ponies have wanted to know who I am, why I'm out on my own, and bring me back.
You weren't like that. You didn't ask questions. I didn't have to explain anything. I could just be me.
I liked having a friend again. It was nice.
I wish we could still be friends. You're strange, and a little slo weird. But I like you.
But now, I have my cutie mark. And just as I feared, it's to do with magic.
I lost my best friend when he got his cutie mark in magic and moved away. Ever since, I've been too afraid to make friends. I even stopped using magic, because if I got my cutie mark in that, it would mean I wouldn't have lost Su my old friend, if I'd gotten it sooner. But it's too late now.
You said it yourself. You'll get a cutie mark in rocks. Your whole family gets them in rocks. You made rocks interesting, but I can't understand them like you. Even though your cutie mark is years away, once you get it, it'll be impossible to still be friends. So it's better I leave now. Before it hurts too much.
Cutie marks drive ponies apart. They're the reason I'm alone.
And I need to find a way to
I'm really sorry I didn't lift you up with magic right away. If I had, you wouldn't have been in danger. I had gotten so scared, I wouldn't even use basic spells.
And it wasn't saving you from the fall that got me my cutie mark. It was the larger rock. If I'd just done what you said, everything would be okay. But because of me, it's all ruined.
Thank you for being a friend for a while.
Sta
Maud lowered the note. As she did, she noticed several dark spots on the parchment. Most were near the end. She touched one with the tip of her hoof.
It felt damp.
“Maudileena Daisy Pie, pay attention.”
These words made Maud finally look up from the ground. Her father had walked around a large crystal, an eyelid raised high enough you could see more than half his eye.
“Sorry, Pa.” Maud crossed the tracks to meet him. “I just got distracted for a moment.”
“Thou hadst a most unusual meaning of a moment, then.” Pa turned back and continued into the mine. “Tis Hearth’s Warming Eve, the day to celebrate the founding of our fair nation. And we have extra reason to be joyous, off what thee and thy sister found.” He stopped to peer between two small crystals wedged together. “Yet thy rock soup was barely enjoyed, and thee only chipped away but a single layer off thy doll.” He looked back and arched an eyebrow. “The activities thee hadst been looking forward to.”
Maud trudged after him, aware of her head dipping to stare at the ground again. “I’m sorry.”
He was quite right, of course. Truthfully, Maud’s head hadn’t been in much of anything the last few days. Never had so many things this separate from rocks lingered in her mind this long. But then again, she had never read anything like that note.
And though she had tried, the thoughts had stuck through to the holiday, and had put a damper on it. The meal and doll-making were one thing, but now, in the task she’d been anticipating the most, all her focus and preparation refused to come.
It was hard when she couldn’t get rid of the thought of a certain filly, alone and frightened. On Hearth’s Warming Eve, the time when you were supposed to be with those who cared for you. And who, despite turning rocks into valuable geodes, didn’t want her cutie mark.
Maud still knew so little about her. She didn’t even know her name.
Maud heard the hoofsteps ahead stop. She looked up, and found Pa staring back again. But his eyes, rather than raised or lowered, were closer to the curves more common on Ma.
“Tis not like you.” He turned around. “Tell, what is wrong?”
“It’s…” Maud glanced sideways. Some loose grit by the cart tracks, though gray, was almost silver if you looked at it the right way. Rather like syenite.
“It’s nothing.” Maud started to walk past Pa. “Let’s keep looking for the stone.”
Nay.” His leg stuck out and blocked Maud. “T’will be other holidays on which thee may best your sister to raise the flag, but even were it found today, the achievement shall be diluted the way thou are now. That goes for tomorrow too.” Pa reached up and plucked his hat off, the short gray mane under it as kempt as ever despite how rarely Maud saw it. “When we cannot step over our worries alone, tis best to share them, such that we may move forward quicker.”
Though it wasn’t easy, Maud did her best to ponder quickly, before Pa asked again. So much of what was on her mind was tied to the unicorn, and a Pie Promise kept that off limits. But such a promise didn’t mean Maud couldn’t think about it, and in the days since, one part in particular had clung on like a barnacle to a beach rock. And it concerned more than just the filly.
Maud looked up to find Pa’s patience hadn’t run out yet. “It’s about cutie marks.”
“Oh?” Pa cocked his head, but didn’t react otherwise. “Why would they be on your mind? Nopony acquires them at thy age. Even Limestone has yet to earn hers. But I am certain, when yours comes, that it shall concern rocks.” He replaced his hat, perfectly level on his head as always. “Tis the Pie way, after all.”
Maud was not surprised by this. It was him who she’d learned that from in the first place. Now she needed a way to ask about cutie marks between ponies.
“Pa.” As Maud tried to gather her words, she felt her legs wobble. She sat down and sighed. When she looked up, Pa’s brow was in rather a loose stance. The kind that meant anything was okay to say.
It gave Maud courage to speak, and gratitude that she had such a wonderful Ma and Pa.
“What if a p… Pie got a cutie mark that had nothing to do with rock… farming?” Maud raised one hoof and held it gently to her chest. Her lip give the smallest quiver. “Would they still be f… family?”
Pa’s mouth opened slightly, but he didn’t respond. The only sound Maud heard was the very faint wind from the shaft entrance, and the occasional drip of water further in.
Pa’s mouth closed, and his eyes lowered again. But the soft edges hadn’t left. He turned sideways and crouched, so his back was level with Maud.
This was rare. Once a Pie could walk well, they didn’t get lifts. It toughened up your hooves the more you walked on them. Whatever Pa was about to do, it would be special. Maud clambered on, and once she was seated, he rose and continued into the mine.
A minute of silence finally broke when Pa stopped by a side tunnel. A beat-up boom gate extended over the tracks that split from the main path into it, though said tracks ended before the opening. Pa wound the gate up at the side, then proceeded into the low shaft.
Maud held on tight as he went through the low light and started up an incline. She had never been in here before, it was off-limits. Even Limestone hadn’t yet been allowed.
When Pa emerged from the darkness, and Maud looked up, she was met with a small cavern overflowing with crystals. Not just the pink and purple of the main mine, almost every gem color under Celestia’s sun was here, from amber to zircon.
“Maudileena, this chamber is right underneath Holder’s Boulder.” Pa crossed the area, maneuvering around any crystals jutting from the ground. “As such, thy many-great grandfather, upon founding the farm, decreed it would never be mined, so we could learn from what this place might bid us, should it grow as our family did.”
Pa stopped by the far wall. “Gander at these.” Pa pointed at two light-blue crystals poking out of the rockface. “What doth thee see between them?”
Holding on to Pa’s neck, Maud squinted. They were very close together, but wedged between them, there lay a light-red crystal.
“That’s aragonite.” A pretty common find, but not like this. Maud looked to its neighbors. “But it normally forms in much larger amounts, and not with aquamarine.”
“Indeed.” Pa stood up on his hind legs, getting closer to the find. “This did not form from rock. With a water solvent, living creatures can produce crystals. Snails were responsible for this.” He glanced back, and arched an eyebrow. “The same molluscs thy sister makes a habit out of removing from every rock she spots them on.
“Us Pies are little different.” Stepping down, he crouched, and Maud stepped off. “While thy mother and I do very much desire for thee and Limecena to carry on the tradition, if thee branched in another direction, that is of no consequence, as long as we remain well cared for.” He turned and walked alongside some ground-level small crystals. “Should thy destiny concern rocks beyond the farm, it would be no less joyous.”
Maud felt somewhat elevated. She had felt farming here would put a limit on what she could do with rocks, and though nothing was certain there while she was a blank flank, it did answer that worry.
Now she’d been uplifted, she could ask what she’d held back on earlier.
“What about cutie marks that aren’t to do with rocks at all?” She cocked her head at Pa as they examined some rubies and sapphires arranged in a rough circle around a large emerald. “Would they be any different?”
“Indeed, not so.” Pa crouched and focused on the trio of gems. “There have been those before whose destiny called them elsewhere. But they remained Pies as much as any of us. So it would have been with thee.” Then, he did something most unusual, and turned the corner of his mouth upward into what was almost a smile. “And if thy forthcoming brother or sister is one such Pie? I have no doubt ye would get on just the same.”
Maud looked to Pa as he stood, and was once again grateful. He didn’t talk much beyond what concerned the farm, but when he did, it always seemed to be just what Maud needed to hear.
“Thank you, Pa.” Maud did her best to express her thanks in how she spoke, and she managed to not blink too. “I’m sure we will too.”
Pa nodded curtly. “Indeed so. Now, let us resume the hunt for the stone thy mother hid.” He turned and let the way out. “I do believe thee hadst been looking forward to this the most.” With a nod of her own, Maud kept pace back into the main mine, her worries now largely put to rest.
Later, after Maud had found the stone and raised the flag on Holder’s Boulder – something Limestone had been rather green about as they all recited the Heart Carol – Maud’s thoughts did return to the unicorn. Now Pa has said his place, though, it didn’t worry Maud as much.
It was a pity the filly had not heard those same words. If she ever did come back, Maud would make sure to tell her.
And if she didn’t… Well, Equestria was full of all kinds of ponies. Sooner or later, there would be ponies to show her that cutie marks were no barrier. To friendship or family.
Until then, Maud would continue to enjoy rocks, and remain open to ponies beyond her family. Even if most of them wouldn’t be to her, doing so increased the chances of finding those who would be.
Author's Note
Author's Notes for this story can be found here.
Limestone's full first name wasn't my invention – PaulAsaran came up with it for his story Cutie Mark Chronicles: Limestone Pie. It was too good not to use!
There's a little bit of age fudging here – most fandom depictions of the Pie sisters have them born in a short timespan, as befits an old-fashioned farming family – but unless one rigidly subscribes to Pinkie being the first to get her mark of the four as in her photo of her first party in "Pinkie Pride" (a photo made when the show staff had not decided the age order went Limestone, Maud, Pinkie & Marble), and locks Starlight to being the same young adult age of the Mane 6 as opposed to being a decent bit older as her debut appearance points to, this all flies. Especially as the Pie family would have Limestone farming already at a younger age than a real-world equivalent.
darkcyan only asked for a Maud/Starlight story that was any genre but horror or tragedy, with a note that they'd like to see more of their friendship than what little the show gave us. A meeting as fillies where Starlight inadvertently gets her cutie mark probably wasn't what they expected, but hey, I aim to surprise! And to challenge myself year after year - this was a bittersweet drama right from the start. But one that shows the roots of how the two would gel as adults, even if neither realise it.
Hope you like it, darkcyan. And anyone else who reads it too. Happy Hearth's Warming!
