Chapters Among the pristine hallways and lavish decor of Celestia’s School For Gifted Unicorns, Little Chart stood waiting in line for the biggest test of his life. Every few minutes the door at the end of the hall would open, an applicant would enter, and it would be shut behind him. As he awaited his turn he was painfully aware of just how much he stood out from the crowd.
Most of these unicorns were dressed in their finest attire, while he wore as much as the moment he was born. Most of the other foals had their cutie marks, some were even smaller than he was, but as he looked at his own flank all he saw was empty green fur. Most apparent of all, every other foal was accompanied by one or both of their parents, but when he looked beside him his gaze only met empty air.
Little Chart tried to focus, but that was interrupted by a grumble as his stomach demanded his attention. He grimaced, reminded of what was at stake here. He didn’t know what the test would be but he had to succeed, he just had to. If he failed, he’d be letting down more than just himself. He felt his body jitter as his nerves rose, every passing pony bringing him another step closer to his turn.
“I don’t mean to put any more pressure on you, son, but we really hope you succeed. This could be more than just an opportunity for you, it could be a chance for us to finally have enough to go around. Good luck, we love you.”
“I won’t let you down, Dad. I’ll make you proud.” They’d shared an all too brief hug before Little Chart pulled away.
“I know you will, sweetie.”
“Sweetie?”
“Sweetie?” A louder voice jarred the foal from the morning’s goodbye, turning back to see its source was a concerned mare with her son. “Are you okay, sweetie? You’re shaking.”
Little Chart looked down to see she was right. He sat down and leaned up against the wall, the cool marble sending another involuntary shiver through him as he tensed his muscles and tried to quell the tremors running through his body. “I’m fine, just cold,” he quickly answered.
Stellar Flare frowned and pursed her lips. “It’s the middle of summer.”
"I’m not used to air conditioning." He forced himself to stand, but he could still feel the tremors in his legs as he walked forward, his turn rapidly approaching.
“Are you nervous about the exam?” she guessed.
“…A little.” He reluctantly admitted before another pang in his gut prodded him. “Yes, I’m very nervous. I woke up late and didn’t even have time for breakfast before my train. Everypony is counting on me and I’m scared I’ll let them down.”
“I can help with the first part!” The colt chirped, opening his mother’s saddlebag and standing on his back legs to dig through it. “Mom packed a lot of food for the trip, I’m sure we could spare some.”
Stellar Flare’s mouth was already opening in protest. She’d packed enough for them each to have lunch and a snack until the train ride home because the prices of Canterlot’s restaurants were as high as the mountain it sat upon. But seeing the hopeful look on this colt's face the words died in her throat as she allowed her son to offer a sandwich and a bag of grapes.
What happened next was almost too quick for the eye to see, but as soon as they were offered they were snatched out of his hooves. Little Chart ate like a starving manticore mauling its prey, and the struggle was soon over.
“Slow down, you’re going to-” Stellar Flare didn’t even have time to warn him about choking as she watched him practically inhale the last grape. “Never mind. Where are your parents, dear? I’d like to have a word with them about the importance of proper nutrition, especially before such a big event.”
Before he could answer the door opened and a stern-looking stallion was staring down at him. “Little Chart?”
“Yes, sir,” he answered, feeling the tremors in his legs starting to come back before he clenched his muscles.
“Come,” he said curtly, beginning to go back the way he came.
“Good luck!” Little Chart threw an appreciative smile over his shoulder before following the proctor. He fell in step behind the older stallion as they entered a lecture hall, totally empty except for two other ponies sitting before a table with a large bowl of water on it.
The proctor led him over before taking a seat beside his colleagues. “Your instructions are on the table, you may begin when you are ready.”
He walked around the table, picking up the instructions in his magic, seeing just a diagram with a bowl, an arrow pointing up, and a stopwatch with a 10 written on it. Out of the periphery of his vision he saw one of the proctors already writing something on their clipboard and dropped the instruction sheet. His horn was enveloped in a pale blue aura as he bit the inside of his cheek, focusing his magic as he fell into a practiced breathing exercise. He shut his eyes in concentration, his aura beginning to surround the bowl.
The proctors watched with anticipation, their eyes widening as the water started to float up. His face began turning red, breathing becoming a strenuous challenge.
The water was trying its best to seep through his magic, droplets escaping any little hole they could find. He sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, trying his hardest to hold the orb together. Counting how long had passed had left his mind with how much effort his task required. Suddenly a rising pressure at the base of his throat let itself be known, and the colt’s eyes shot open in a moment of horrified realization before-
HIC!
The magic flickered, just an instant of loss was all it took for the water to break free in every direction available to it with a loud popping sound, dousing all present like they’d been pelted with water balloons. The proctors made a vain effort to shield themselves with their clipboards while he brushed his mane out of his eyes, shaking himself to get as much water out of his fur as possible. His ears drooped as he looked at the three faces staring back at him.
“I think it is safe to say that you have failed your entrance exam!” One of the proctors practically growled, flipping her drenched mane out of her face and reaching into her purse for something to clean her running makeup.
“What?” His voice was as small as he felt, a wave of dread, despair, and nausea coming over him.
The proctor in the middle shot his colleague a disapproving look before turning back to the foal before them. “On a technical matter, yes, you did fail,” he saw his face drop further and held up a hoof to stop him. "The test was to levitate the bowl itself and hold it for ten seconds without spilling it. You levitated the water out of the bowl and managed to hold it for seven, something I personally consider to be more impressive. While you may have technically failed, I still give you my endorsement. It looks like the final decision is up to you, Neighsay,” he said, glancing at the proctor to his left.
Little Chart looked to the final proctor with bated breath, the unicorn who’d originally led him in, and the one who now held his future in his hooves.
Neighsay seemed to think on the matter, the room dead silent as the three other unicorns awaited his decision. The only sounds that pierced the silence were the tiny drops of water and the occasional hiccup from the young pony, his heart pounding in his ears until the instructor finally moved. He exhaled and leaned forward, shaking his head. “I’m afraid I must agree with her opinion. Levitating liquids at your age is impressive, but it’s not the test that was laid out, and you still didn’t hold it for the required time. It wouldn’t be fair to the other applicants to make an exception just for you for doing it differently, and not even for long enough. I’m sorry.”
As soon as those words left his lips, Little Chart could feel his hopes dying, tears brimming in his eyes. “No! Please! Let me try again, I can do it, I swear! It wasn’t my fault!” He frantically looked from the proctors to the now-empty bowl, the reality of his situation pressing down on him. All of a sudden he felt another pressure rising in his throat and quickly grabbed the bowl before disaster struck.
Normally, this would have been easy to avoid. When he felt a hiccup coming on he would take a deep breath and hold it for five seconds. It was so simple and effective that it had worked since he first learned to control his body. But the pressure was building too quickly. His body was betraying him and he could feel the contents of his stomach moving in the wrong direction. It was all over in an instant that felt like a small eternity, the noise emanating from his muzzle muffled by the bowl as he lifted his head back and out of it. Dizzy, he crashed back onto his haunches.
“It’s too late for that, I’m afraid,” the mare told him, pointing at the door on the other side of the room with a cold indifference. “It's time for you to leave.”
Little Chart stood with his head held low, slowly trudging out the door. A familiar pang in his gut reminded him of what he’d lost, and what he and his family had to look forward to. Despite the crushing feeling of emptiness he felt, tears refused to come. Crying wouldn’t fix this, and he didn’t know what could.
Author's Note
Hello all my lovely viewers! I really need a win lately so I'm making the ill-advised decision to start yet another project! I hope you enjoy this and please let me know what you think!
Till next time!
Little Chart sat on the marble steps of Celestia's school, glaring at the step beneath him. Frustration burned in him, and the events of the test replayed on an endless loop in his mind. If only he could've held it together for a few more seconds that entrance exam and the scholarship it awarded would've been his! That hiccup had ruined everything, and the immutability of it was driving him mad. All of that would be just a little more bearable if he hadn't lost his only meal of the day mere minutes after consuming it, or if he had any bits to replace it.
The question of what he'd tell his parents lingered in the back of his mind, replacing his frustration with a sense of dread. There had been so much riding on this… They were counting on him, and it only left him feeling another kind of empty.
"Hello again." Little Chart's ears perked up at the familiar voice, and he looked back to see the mother-and-son duo from earlier coming down the steps. Stellar Flare saw him and frowned. "Are you alright, darling?"
"Do I look alright?" He asked with a bitter edge that he immediately regretted. "Sorry… No, I'm not. I failed my entrance test."
Stellar Flare frowned as she looked around. "Where are your parents, darling? I didn't see them in the school."
He frowned and shook his head, his gaze falling to the ground again. "No, they're back home in Cornwood. Mom's about to have a foal and she can't travel and dad had to stay home with her."
Stellar Flare balked, disbelieving and horrified as she got a good look at his lanky frame, recalling how he'd ravenously eaten the food they'd given him. "Your parents sent you halfway across Equestria, alone, without feeding you breakfast or packing you anything right as you're about to take one of the most important tests of your life?"
"I overslept, there wasn't any time." Little Chart couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze. "I don't know how I'm going to tell them that I botched my entrance test and lost my chance at a scholarship. We really needed that."
Stellar Flare gave him a sympathetic look. "I understand how you must feel. My little foal didn't get in either. The ungrateful fools. They don't understand just how brilliant he is!"
Sunburst looked up at his mother, disappointment clearly etched on his face.
She didn't see his reaction, but felt him move away from her, going over to the sad-looking colt.
"I guess it just wasn't meant to be for either of us." Sunburst forced a smile onto his face.
"Guess not." Little Chart knew he should feel better and that he should feel some empathy for his new friend not getting in either, but all it did was make him feel worse.
Sunburst sat beside him and put a foreleg around him, which Chart reciprocated, the two foals sharing a moment of solace in solidarity before they broke contact and he went beside his mother.
"Be sure to write to us, we live at Sires Hollow, 124 Lantern Avenue, I wanna keep in touch." Sunburst offered.
Little Chart looked up, a tiny smile finally showing itself. Even if he'd failed, he'd made a friend, so the day wasn't a total loss. "You got it, I'll make sure our address is on my first letter to you!"
"Time to go, Sunburst. We don't want to miss our train." Stellar Flare turned to Little Chart, her expression growing serious. "I don't know when your train is, darling, but you should come to the station with us. Canterlot can be easy to get lost in, and parts of it aren't safe for a foal on their own."
He stood up and took a hesitant step, but another followed. He couldn't resist the chance for a little company on this dark day. As they wove through the city, he felt queasy from the sight of all the buildings surrounding him, threatening to swallow him. The bright, blazing sun made his head ache with how its rays reflected off the pristine marble that made up most of the city.
But the worst part was how delicious that smell was. He shook himself and sniffed purposefully. Apples?
He saw a stallion tending a stall with all manner of baked goods and the closer they got the more the scents made his mouth water. His brain told him that it would be a waste to go over, that he didn't have a single bit in his possession. The only thing he had of any value was the train ticket back to Cornwood which was firmly tucked between his mane and his ear. His stomach, however, nagged at him to investigate regardless.
"I'll catch up with you two at the station." Little Chart didn't know if they heard him, but figured he'd see them there either way as he followed his nose, the scent drawing him to a stand attended to by a bright yellow stallion with a flaming red mane partially covered by a cowpony hat. Adorning the stand and neatly piled beside it were stacks of every kind of apple confection a pony could ever desire.
Apple pies, fritters, turnovers, and many others he'd never seen before were all laid bare and brought his hunger to a zenith. As he approached he considered his options from simply begging for a sample to trying to swipe a few without the earth pony's notice.
As he got closer, the stallion turned and smiled. "What can Ah do for ya today?"
"I..." The smell was maddening. Little Chart's stomach gurgled and rumbled its own displeasure.
Bright Mac was many things. Blind, thankfully, was not one of them. Taking in the colt and the hungry noises their body made all on their own, he could see he was facing a hungry little foal. "C'mere." He waved Chart closer. "Maybe y'could help me out. Got a real jam, and Ah think you'd be the perfect pony for the job."
Chart wandered closer, confusion growing. "Really? How?"
Bright Mac grabbed the stem of an apple, big and red and shiny, and set it on the counter. "Look at this. Ah think this one may be goin' off. Mmm, gonna have to test it." He nudged it towards Chart. "If ya could take a bite? Got a few others that Ah'll just have to toss away if Ah can't prove they're good. Ya know how it is."
Little Chart didn't wait for any further prompting, snatching up the beckoning fruit and chowing down on it. Just like the sandwich from before he was hardly focused on the taste, only caring how fast he could consume it. "What else do you have for me to test?"
Bright Mac blinked, confusion written on his face. He could swear one moment this foal had been holding an apple but in the split second he'd closed his eyes all he saw was a stripped core. He looked for something that may be a bit more filling for a famished foal. "Here, why don't you inspect one of these apple scones. They're tough on the outside and fluffy on the inside."
The treat was presented and taken without delay. He sniffed it and the sweet scent of apples made his mouth water before he bit down, a burst of flavor popping on his tongue. He let out an involuntary sigh of contentment, this scone doing wonders for his nagging stomach. Little Chart looked back at this unknown stallion, a wave of confusion and uncertainty coming over him as he swallowed another bite. "I don't understand. Why're you being so nice to me? I'm not your foal, and I don't have any bits."
"It's not that complicated: Ah can see you're hungry, Ah got more food than Ah'm gonna be able to sell here, so Ah'm giving ya some. All there is to it." Bright Mac spoke with such certainty and confidence, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Little Chart was about to say something when he heard a loud squawk and looked to see a black crow snatch an apple from the ground. He made a startled noise and was ready to charge at it when he felt a hoof on his shoulder.
Bright Mac held him back as the bird flew away with their ill-gotten gains. "Fightin' birds can get you pecked. Ain't worth it." He pat Chart as he sat back. "Just another tester, makin' sure everything's tasty." He got a paper bag and put a few things he had more than enough of inside of it with soft thumps at the bottom of the bag. "Now, sure ya got places to be. Keep this fer the next time yer ready for it."
For the second time that day, Little Chart felt a real smile crossing his face as the treats he'd been fed finally made his stomach fall silent. A full belly was something he was seldom able to enjoy, but knowing he'd be able to enjoy it for many hours to come thanks to the bagged goodies made it even better. "Thank you, mister. I'll try to have bits next time."
"Don't mention it, little fella," Bright Mac reached down and playfully ruffled his mane, earning a smile from the younger pony. "Ya better be getting along now."
The notion made him shrug, holding the bag in his magic. "My train ride home isn't for a little while." His face fell. "Are you trying to get rid of me?"
"It's not you, sugarcube. Ah'm hungry too and Ah just like to have peace and quiet with mah lunch." Bright Mac admitted.
Little Chart nodded in understanding, sparing one last look at the bright and shining treats he was being parted from. He pushed down his disappointment and turned around, glancing back over his shoulder occasionally to ensure the stallion wasn't changing his mind. He held his bag closer, its sweet scents soothing his disappointment.
He kept his head down, keeping his gaze low as he rejoined the throngs of ponies walking the streets of Canterlot. He continued down the street for a few blocks, eventually finding himself at the train station. He double-checked that his ticket was safe and ready before approaching the platform. First, he knew he'd have to get past the ticket pony that waited patiently for ponies to approach.
He scanned the platform for any sign of Stellar Flare or Sunburst, a twinge of guilt hitting him that he couldn't see them. He regretted leaving their company without a proper goodbye, but it was pushed down as he rationalized that he could apologize as part of his first letter.
When it was time to go, he used his magic to pull his ticket from behind his ear, handing it over before stepping on.
Little Chart walked to the back of the carriage and hopped up on a bench, setting his bag of goodies beside him as he settled in for the long trip home.
Author's Note
He's still disappointed but at least the little guy got something to eat!
The train ride back to Cornwood was long and tedious, the hours passing at a snail’s pace. The pristine marble floors and towering buildings of Canterlot were replaced by trees and rural farmland. Little Chart had taken a nap on the way home, keeping his bag of apple goodies hidden while he snoozed, firmly wedged between him and the train wall.
Little Chart awoke when the train lurched to a stop, looking out the window to see the moon and stars. As he stepped out onto the wooden platform he looked at the dismal fields, sighing at the miserable state of the coming harvest. If nothing changed it’d be the fourth year in a row they had an abysmal yield.
For now though, he had a more immediate problem. As he started walking back home he struggled to figure out how to tell them he’d failed the test. The treats Bright Mac had provided him served to keep his stomach quiet for the time being, but he knew the gnawing emptiness would be back soon enough.
The rickety gate squealed as it was pushed open. Twigs and dead leaves snapped underhoof as he made his way to their one-story house. He sighed, trotting through the front door and closing it behind him, setting his bag on the kitchen table.
"I'm home." His voice was quiet, barely audible across the room. "Guess they're asleep." As if satisfied with his meek attempt to announce his presence, he pressed deeper into his home, an unwelcome quiver entering his legs.
He started to walk down the hall, but he heard muffled noises coming from his parents’ bedroom. He carefully stepped closer, his curiosity rising. The noise led him just outside their room and he carefully pushed the door open just enough to peek inside, his eyes nearly bugging out of his skull at what he saw.
He saw his mother lying on the bed, exhausted and disheveled. Beside her was his father, sitting on the floor, rocking a small wooden cradle. His shock compounded as he realized what was inside, and what he had missed while he was away in Canterlot.
“You can come in, son.” The surprise made him freeze up. Hewn Oak hadn’t even turned to face him, but his curiosity overpowered his shock as he stepped into the room and walked approached, a surprised gasp escaping him at. Within the cradle were two foals, a colt and a filly, pressed up against each other and fast asleep.
"W-What happened?" Little Chart wasn't sure why he was whispering. A moment later he chided himself for such a stupid question with such an obvious answer.
"Your mother went into labor a few days early," he explained. "If we'd known sooner, we would've…" He took a breath. "Come here."
His approach was slower, mindful of every step as he crept towards the sleeping bundles. His ears folded down, keeping quiet for the sake of the foals. When he finally came to stand beside the cradle his expression softened.
“I thought Mom was only going to have one foal,” he whispered. his gaze drifting from one sleeping face to another. They seemed so quiet and peaceful.
“We were only expecting one,” he corrected. He put his free hoof on Little Chart’s shoulder. “But it seems our family has been blessed with two little miracles.”
Little Chart suppressed a groan, trying to think of any way to stop his mind from exploring the unpleasant realities these little ponies brought with them. “No horns… They’re like you and mom.”
“One is,” he corrected, carefully picking up the filly, exercising as much caution as his hooves could possibly show. He gently pulled her blanket back, and Little Chart’s eyes widened seeing a pair of wings on her.
“But how? We don’t even have any pegasi in our family!” His whisper was strained.
“Evidently we do somewhere in our family tree.” He remarked, gently wrapping the blanket back around her and tucking her beside her twin. “Just like our family tree has a unicorn somewhere for you to get your horn.”
Little Chart couldn't help but stare at the colt as his father stroked his sister’s cheek. As he did so, the pony gave a quiet squeak and opened his eyes, fixing them on Little Chart.
The colt looked down into his new brother's eyes, thinking of strain on the family, a strain that he hadn't helped. He could have saved them all from supporting his worthless plot, but he just had to go and blow it. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.
"Whatever for?" Hewn asked as he picked him up, seeming confused.
Little Chart grimaced. "My test. It was easy, I should have passed."
It took a few seconds to process what his son was telling him, sighing as he came to realize what he was saying. “It’s okay, you did the best you could. Nothing more we could’ve asked of you.”
While the reassurance was supposed to make Little Chart feel better, all it did was make the hollow feeling of despair he was carrying more pronounced. A part of him wished his dad hadn’t been so understanding, that he’d be angry so he could protest the injustice he’d been dealt today. Especially now that there were two more mouths to feed and he’d lost the only chance they’d had to alleviate the burden he placed on the family. He shut his eyes tight, trying to hold back the tears that were forming.
“Have you decided on names yet?” He asked, trying to distract himself.
“Not yet, your poor mother passed out soon as she finished giving birth. Wouldn’t be right to name them without her awake for it.” He answered while rocking the cradle.
Little Chart tilted his head, something coming to mind as he took a closer look at the new foal. He looked up at his dad and he was smiling knowingly, seeming to already know what he was thinking. "I- Um," He sat back, rubbing his hooves together. "I'll be a good big brother." He managed, his eyes misty. "Even if I didn't get into that school I promise I’ll be the best big sibling anypony could hope for.”
"Little Chart," his father started. "Look at me." Little Chart hesitated but did as he was told, looking into his eyes. "You made it all the way to the exam, and you did the best you could. That's something to be proud of."
“No it isn’t…!” He felt his tears starting to well up, the dam finally starting to give way. “It's nothing! All I had to do was levitate a stupid bowl and I couldn’t even do that right! This was my big chance, and I blew it! I let all of you down!” It took everything he had not to break down crying right there and wake up the room’s other occupants.
What happened next was almost too quick for Little Chart to see but in one moment he saw his father tucking his new brother into the cradle before scooping him up. The surprise stunned him long enough to be carried to his own room, his dad sitting on the bed and holding him in his lap. “Let it all out, now. I’m right here.” He gave his son a light squeeze and that was all it took.
Tears streaked down his cheeks as he sobbed into his father’s chest, his fur quickly growing damp as Little Chart cried his heart out. “It’s not fair! I didn’t know what they wanted! I tried my best, but it wasn’t good enough! We already didn’t have enough, and now it’s going to be even harder! I was supposed to make it better but now it’s going to be even worse!”
Little Chart bawled, his shoulders shaking and every breath coming with a raspy sob. He could feel his dad rocking him back and forth in his firm embrace, holding him close as he broke down. He had no idea how long he was there, how long he cried in his embrace, but he was patient enough to not ask questions or make any demands.
Hewn Oak was content to silently hold Little Chart for as long as he needed, offering him gentle rocks, squeezes, and pats on the back, trying to calm him down. Eventually he had settled down enough that he was sure he’d hear him.
“We’ll make it work, we always do. It may not be ideal, but we’ll be ok.” He knew it was something of a generic comfort. There were definitely challenges a new mouth in the family posed, let alone two, but those weren’t important right now. Right now what mattered was showing love and support for his eldest child.
Eventually Little Chart was reduced to just whimpering and sniffling. He leaned into the larger stallion, utterly spent from his emotional outburst. "Why do we have to be poor? Why are we so poor? What did we do to deserve this?"
"We aren't poor." Hewn Oak put his hoof on Little Chart's head, tilting his gaze up. "Having less doesn't make us less.”
"That doesn't help." He gave a half-hearted squirm as if to escape the embrace.
"It will. Give it time." His father held him closer.
“It’s not even going to get better.” Little Chart’s voice was bereft of hope. “The crops are in awful shape. Again. I heard when you told mom Cornwood doesn’t have the bits to hire pegasi to water them.”
“You let the big ponies worry about that. For now, you need to get some sleep. You’ve had a long and busy day. In the morning you can get more acquainted with your new brother and sister.” He pulled back the covers and laid Little Chart down, pulling them snugly over him and giving him an affectionate nuzzle. “Goodnight. Remember, we all love you. Get some sleep, and I hope you feel better in the morning.”
Little Chart sighed as he tried to relax, looking at his father. "I'll try." He kept his gaze on the stallion, trying to push the feeling of despair out of his mind. "Goodnight, Dad." He closed his eyes and curled up beneath his covers.
On some level, he decided, he was glad he was past admitting how badly he had messed it all up. At least they didn't hate him for it. He felt a strong hoof on him, rubbing his back until he eventually drifted off to a mercifully peaceful sleep.
Author's Note
Hey everyone! I hope you all had a very merry Christmas!🎄
The day began badly for Little Chart, but it ended with some new additions to the family. I promise Little Chart won't be such a downer in the next chapter. Please let me know what you think down below and I'll see you all again in the next chapter!
Breakfast on the homestead was never anything terribly fancy, with the dishes typically filling but devoid of flavor. Some options included cornbread, toasted oats, oatmeal, and maybe some fruit if they were lucky. If the stars aligned, they could even enjoy some fresh vegetables from the garden. Today, however, was different.
Little Chart sat at the family table alone, indulging in the last of the pastries Bright Mac had gifted him, chewing them slowly and savoring every moment of the sweet tastes they had to offer. They’d be even more heavenly with some milk to wash them down. The colt felt a pang of longing as he finished off the last of them.
Just as he was swallowing the last bite, there was a soft clatter, and he turned to see his father entering the room. He trotted up to Little Chart and patted him on the head, sitting beside him.
He dared a tail swish, swallowing his last bite of food. "Hi, Dad." He glanced away and back. "How can I help?" His forelegs shivered as he rubbed his hooves together. "Since I'm not gonna be at school, I want to help."
Hewn Oak suppressed a sigh, feeling the nervous energy radiating off him. He thought for a moment before offering his son a smile. “Why don’t you go give your mother some company? I don’t think she’ll have enough strength to get out of bed today, and I bet she’d love to see you.”
“Yeah, you got it!” Little Chart wiped his mouth off and hurried to the master bedroom, seeing his mom in almost the same position she was in yesterday. He approached, carefully taking one of her hooves in his. “Hi, Mom. I’m sorry I wasn’t here yesterday. Did Dad tell you what happened?”
"No," her voice was thin, quiet. "It's good to see you." She reached up with her other hoof and patted his head. Her face looked as though it were carved from stone.
Little Chart groaned, desperately wishing not to go through another crying fest like he had last night. "I, um, it's…" He couldn't complete a sentence, struggling to form a thought. "Want some water?" He felt stupid even as those words came out. "Anything?"
Rosewood frowned slightly, picking up on her child’s distress. “I’m sorry, baby. I know you did the best you could.” She opened her eyes a little more, her rosey red irises locking on her son’s bright blues. “Did you get to meet your new little brother and sister yet?”
"I saw them last night; they’re beautiful, both of them.” He felt his tears threatening to return, the pit of failure and despair making itself known. Little Chart was no stranger to hunger, but this was a far worse emptiness. It didn’t want him to eat, it just ate at him, and he didn’t have the slightest clue how to fill it.
"Why don't you go meet them properly? I bet they're awake by now." Rosewood suggested, patting his shoulder and letting her hoof fall back to the bed.
Little Chart started to turn away, but something pulled him back. "Can I help?" Could he? He felt particularly unhelpful lately. "Do you want anything?"
Rosewood’s frown deepened, seeing the look in her son’s eye. With all the strength she could muster, she pushed herself into a sitting position, scooping Little Chart up and holding him against her barrel. "We still love you, sweetie. I’m sorry if we put too much pressure on you."
Little Chart didn’t bother trying to break free, his mother was still much stronger than he was, even if she was tired. He felt her gently stroking his back like his father had, carefully scooching over to lean against the headboard. “Where do we go from here, Mom?" He watched her close her eyes and let the headboard support their weight, trying to save what little energy she had.
She hummed in thought. "There’s always trying to get another chance next year, but until then, we’ll have to be careful with our food. Remember, it’s not just us, our neighbors are in the same position we are. Hopefully, by next year, we’ll be able to grow a good harvest."
"Assuming Lord Rampart and his goons give us enough scraps once they're done pocketing the bits..." he muttered, just saying that name left a bitter taste in his mouth. "I know I failed my test, but I'll find a way to make up for it, Mom. I promise."
Rosewood cracked her eyes and looked at her son’s face. "Little Chart, don't let them hear you say that," she warned. "Rampart isn't once to take such things with grace."
Before Little Chart to could respond, Rosewood couldn’t help but smirk, a playfulness creeping into her voice as she gripped him a little tighter. “And sweetie, you may not be our youngest anymore, but you are still a foal. I know you want to help us, but it’s not healthy to rush growing up, because when you’re grown, I won’t be able to do this .”
Little Chart barely had time to register her words before her free hoof started to tickle his ribs, causing him to erupt with laughter. He pushed against her barrel trying to get away, but it was a futile effort.
After what seemed like an eternity of tickles and laughter, Rosewood finally showed him mercy, planting a kiss on his forehead. “Now there’s that smiling face I missed. Feeling any better sweetie?”
He nodded, enjoying her embrace more before she set him back down. “Now, how about you go help your father with the twins?
Little Chart paused, almost asking again if she wanted anything before remembering what happened the last time. He decided that leaving and getting the task done was a better option. "Yes, Mom." The pit in his stomach didn’t feel like it was eating away at him at the moment. It was still there, but much shallower. A bother he could let fade into the background.
He kept his smile as he headed back to his kitchen, giggling as he saw his father trying to wrangle the twins and set up a high chair all at the same time.
“You’re just in time. Mind keeping an eye on them for a moment?” Hewn Oak asked, finally getting the wooden high chair unfolded properly.
“Sure thing, Dad!” Little Chart quickly crossed the room and picked up his little brother, an involuntary grunt escaping him. “You’re a big colt, aren’t you?” He asked, carefully sitting him down on the floor beside his twin and sat across from them.
“Earth ponies usually are.” Hewn Oak chimed from the counter as he started preparing a bottle. “He has thicker bones and denser muscles than her, he’s almost twice as heavy. After he was born, your sister was much easier.”
Little Chart gave a surprised whistle, looking back and forth from one foal to the next. No longer swaddled in cloth he could get a good view of them both.
The colt already had a larger frame than his sister. His coat was a perfect match for Cornwood’s namesake golden grain, paired with a mane and tail the same color as the soil it grew in. As for the youngest, her colors were inverted, but both shared their mother’s beautiful red eyes.
“They both look like you and Mom.” He instantly groaned, regretting such an obvious statement, but it got a laugh out of his dad.
“I should hope so.” He walked across the kitchen, a bottle of formula in his hoof as he picked the little colt up. “Keep watching your sister for me.”
Hewn Oak looked at the highchair before he ended up deciding against it, sitting at his spot on the table and offering the bottle which the newborn foal eagerly began to drink from. “I’ll have to make another high chair before these two start eating solid food, and definitely get another bottle before that. After we get these two fed, I think it’s time we decided on some names.”
Little Chart listened to his father’s musings, but he was more focused on making funny faces, enjoying hearing the happy giggles and coos the young pegasus gave in return. His smile turned into a mischievous smirk as he used his magic to gently tug at her wing, watching her look around in confusion.
“If she’s a pegasus, she can help with watering the crops, right?” He asked, glancing at his father.
"Yes. She'll be a true blessing to our village once she's old enough, but that's going to be a few years away." Hewn Oak affirmed.
As soon as he’d said that, a bolt of inspiration struck. “Rainshower…” he whispered to himself. “Hey Dad, I think I have a name for her. How about Rainshower?”
Hewn Oak stared at his daughter in thought, lightly brushing the back of her mane with his hoof. After a moment, he nodded and gave a soft smile. "Rainshower." He nodded his approval, reaching to give Little Chart a gentle mussing across his mane. "You look better. Feel better?"
Little Chart turned away. "A little." He shook himself, putting on a small smile for the sake of his new little sister. "Just... still thinking."
"It's alright." He gently turned him to face his sibling. "Mind her. Foals are curious creatures, and they'll wander off if you aren't paying attention." He chuckled with old thoughts. "Just like you would, and will, even today."
Little Chart forced his ears up as he kept his gaze on Rainshower.
“I don’t squirm, Dad, at least not unless somepony tickles me.” He smiled despite himself, trying to keep the attention of his siblings as his father set the still-unnamed colt down and prepared another bottle. He’d settled on playing a game of peekaboo, getting a giggle out of both of them each time. A few minutes later Hewn Oak returned with a fresh bottle and scooped up Rainshower, repeating the feeding process for her.
That left Little Chart able to focus all his attention on his little brother. As the two played his mind began to wander, imagining what he’d accomplish. While their sister could bring rain, he had every confidence this foal would be able to pull the plow and later the thresher and wagon just like their father. He grinned, an idea coming to him.
“Hey, Dad, I think I’ve got a name for the colt!”
“Whoa, slow down there, son, I think your mother would like to have some input on the name for at least one of her foals.” Hewn Oak cautioned, putting Rainshower over his shoulder and gently patting her back until she gave a light urp!
“But it’s a good name!” Little Chart protested. “At least let me share it.”
“Oh, alright, what is it?” Hewn Oak asked.
“Golden Husker.” Little Chart offered with no small amount of pride.
“I like it, but let’s go see what your mother thinks. Here, trade me,” he said as he gently handed Rainshower to him and picked up the little colt, the two making their way back to the master bedroom.
They both quietly entered the room, seeing Rosewood was still awake and propped up against the headboard.
She looked over at her husband, son, and the new arrivals they carried. "How are they?"
Little Chart gently bounced the little infant in his arms. "They're happy, mom." He nudged Golden with his nose. "Aren't you?"
Rosewood cracked a small smile at the sight, humming to herself. She tapped her chin as she stared at her daughter, taking a moment before a wide grin crossed her face.
"So. Do we have names for these two?" Rosewood asked.
Little Chart piped up. "I came up with Rainshower 'cause she's gonna help with it!" He pressed his cheek to the little filly. "She'll be a great weather pony!"
Rosewood smiled proudly. “I couldn’t have thought of a more fitting name myself. Now we just need a name for him,” she said, looking at the foal Hewn Oak carried.
“I had an idea for him, too!” Little Chart said before his father could get a word out. “He’s already big and strong; he’ll probably grow up strong enough to pull the plow and thresher like Dad and the other stallions. His coat’s also the same color as corn… so how about Golden Husker?”
“You’re good at this, sweetie. I think those names are perfect. What do you think, dear?”
Hewn Oak smiled, nodding in approval. “I couldn’t agree more. Now, after I have some breakfast, I’m going to work to finish the furniture for their room. Can I trust you to look after your mom and siblings while I do that?”
“Yeah, Dad, you can count on me!” Little Chart declared, smiling. The last twenty-four hours had been an emotional roller coaster, but things were starting to look up. As he looked at his little siblings- the ones he’d proudly say he’d been the one to name- his head filled with all sorts of ideas for games they could play and activities they could do together. He’d have to keep an eye on Rosewood until she got her strength back, but he was looking forward to all of it. “So, who’s ready to play?”
Author's Note
Hey everyone! Sorry for the delay. Been dealing with a freak snowstorm and the ultra cold temperatures it brought with it. Thankfully, we never lost power but I'm just trying to keep my toes from freezing these days.
I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Things may finally be looking up for our favorite green unicorn! (Excluding Lyra
5: Reality And Possibility
Two weeks after coming home, the novelty of the new foals had worn off, and reality set in hard. Little Chart may not have been able to attend a prestigious school, but he was learning several new things.
For starters, newborn foals didn’t sleep through the night for the first six months. One of the twins woke up every few hours, they always cried when they did, and it always made the other cry, too. The thin walls ensured that he would wake up with them, stuff his pillow over his head until his parents tended to them, or go care for them himself if he could tell he wouldn’t be getting back to sleep.
The other thing he learned is that foals couldn’t process anything but formula or mother’s milk for the first six months, either. That’d be fine if Rosewood didn’t need extra food to regularly nurse the twins or if foal formula wasn’t so expensive.
To that end he found himself scrounging through the garden for anything worthwhile, sweat pouring off him as the hot summer sun shone above. He pulled another tiny carrot out of the ground and tossed it in the bucket. As he worked, the pit of guilt in his stomach had returned. It felt like it was eating away at him as much as ever, and it was made all the worse by physical hunger. It was a constant reminder that there would’ve been one fewer mouth to feed if he’d just succeeded. Sometimes it was easy to ignore and put out of his head, other times it felt like a bottomless pit ready to swallow him whole.
With every vegetable he took he buried a seed in its place, poured some water from the well over it and silently pleaded for it to grow strong. He looked at the gathered vegetables and groaned, disappointed at the meager pickings. He frowned, resisting the temptation to just eat them raw. He couldn’t be selfish like that, other ponies needed to eat, too.
He grabbed the bucket’s handle with his teeth, stomping the dirt off his hooves before heading back inside. As soon as the thought of a hearty vegetable stew crossed his mind he was practically drooling. There was enough for two servings, maybe three if they stretched it. Add some day-old cornbread on the side and lunch was served.
When he entered the house he saw his mother in the kitchen already, sitting in front of a bowl full of grain and apples, peeling the outer layer off with a knife. He smiled, trotting up and setting his bucket down.
Rosewood regarded Little Chart with a brief glance before her gaze drifted to the gathered vegetables. He could see her salivating for a moment before she went back to her task, running a knife through an apple. The crisp sound of its flesh splitting almost made him drool as he trotted beside her, trying to ignore it and stay focused on his task.
She set her hoof on his head when he was close enough. "Look at you, working so hard." She had only fondness in her voice. "And what a haul." That was, the two both knew, a bit more than the truth.
“Where’s Dad?” Little Chart asked as he set a pot on the stove and started loading small bits of dried wood.
“He’s trying to finish Husker’s crib before he starts having magic surges,” Rosewood answered, cleaning the available fruits. “For Rainshower we just need a lid, but Husker is a bit trickier. Once he starts getting magic surges he’s probably going to end up breaking that crib. If your dad isn’t finished before then he could end up hurting her.”
The idea that Husker could hurt Rainshower horrified him. “He wouldn’t do that, they’re twins.”
Rosewood seemed amused. “He’s a baby, sweetie. He wouldn’t do it on purpose, but foals can’t control their magic surges. I still remember when you just disappeared in a flash and we found you on the roof. You thought it was so funny, scaring us half to death like that.”
Little Chart blushed as he put a pot over the stove, poured in some broth, and stretched it with water, waiting for it to heat up as he prepared the gathered vegetables. “We can take Dad a bowl of this while he’s working, I bet he’d love it.”
As Rosewood looked back at her son, she caught him snatching a mushroom from the pantry and munching on it as he worked, already close to halfway done with his soup. The sight of his ears back as he kept his attention focused on cooking was strangely cute, though she remained quiet about the tiny morsel. "Bring it to him when you're done. He’ll be happy to see you."
He looked down, taking another carrot in his magic and levitating it up to eye level, spinning it slowly to take in every little detail, all of the lumps and imperfections that it had to offer. They wouldn’t change how it tasted in the end. He chopped it into pieces and added it to the pot.
A soft crunch reached his ears from beside him.
He looked over at his mother. She held a piece of carrot between her hooves as though to offer him a bite.
Little Chart didn’t need to be tempted to lean in and take a bite, with Rosewood tossing it in with the other vegetables before he was even done chewing. “Ew! Mom, I just took a bite of that!”
“It’ll be fine, dear,” Rosewood turned and swished her tail as she took some wooden bowls out of the cupboard, setting them beside the stove. “It’s almost ready.”
“Almost,” He confirmed with a nod, waiting as the heavenly smell wafted over him. His mouth watered, but he resisted, waiting for the stew to heat up to where it wasn’t quite scalding but hot enough to draw out all the flavors its ingredients had to give. As soon as he deemed it ready, he grabbed a ladle and carefully poured it out into the waiting bowls, scraping as much as possible out of the pot. “Good to the last little bit.”
He took one bowl in his magic and passed another to Rosewood who accepted it eagerly and quickly took a sip of the warm broth, savoring every morsel that crossed her tongue. Her son carefully walked behind her and darted for the door, balancing the two bowls he had. "He'll like it." It was as much a prayer as any amount of promise.
The warm day greeted Little Chart as he made his way around the back of the house and spotted Hewn Oak working hard to chop logs into more usable wood segments. Little Chart trotted up and waited for his father to spot him, sitting patiently with one bowl between his hooves and the other floating silently.
Hewn Oak grunted as he brought his axe down on the felled tree’s branch again, and again, and again. Finally, with a strong yank, it came off. He wiped the sweat from his brow, setting his axe aside as he dragged the severed branch towards the stump before he noticed his son standing a safe distance away with a steaming bowl of something.
“I brought you some stew, thought you were hungry,” Little Chart said as he floated over the bowl and spoon. “I did what I could with what we had.”
Hewn Oak accepted it with a thankful smile, enjoying the aroma as he sat on the tree stump and took a bite of the his son’s concoction. His smile widened, the simple stew a wonderful treat for him.
Seeing his father’s reaction, he sat in front of him and took a bite, his face lighting up as he suddenly ate with gusto. Little Chart wasn’t as hungry as when he scarfed down the sandwich Stellar Flare had gifted him, but hungry enough that the stew didn’t have a snowball’s chance in the Dragon Lands.
“You and your mother did an excellent job,” Hewn Oak commended between bites.
“Actually, I made it myself,” Little Chart beamed with a sense of accomplishment, but the reality of things made itself known to him and brought his mood back down. “Enjoy it while you can, that’s all there is. It took all the vegetables we had in the garden and some of the mushrooms in the pantry.”
His father briefly paused in eating, going back to a much slower pace as he thought. "Ah guess... Ah'm eating the first fruits of your labor." That made him chuckle just a little. "Still, you have been industrious in helping to provide." He patted Little Chart on the back. "You're becoming a stallion of the house."
Little Chart’s frown deepened. “Some stallion… I can’t do much here. Sometimes I wish I didn’t have a horn, then I’d be able to help the crops grow, or to water them better.”
Hewn Oak drowned and put his hoof under Little Chart's chin, making his son look at him. "Ah want you to always remember, the only pony to never mess up is the pony never tried to start something. What you do for us is enough, unicorn or not.”
"That's why I worked the garden, it’s all I can do." He said, deflated.
"And Ah right appreciate it." Hewn Oak took another slow sip. "All we can do is enjoy what we have right now, and try for more for later."
“There won’t be more later,” Little Chart gestured to the crops in the distance. “This is going to be the third crappy harvest in a row. Cornwood is dying a slow death and no one wants to even talk about it.”
Hewn Oak suppressed a sigh of exasperation. His son was right, although he was loathed to admit it. “Cornwood is our home, son. It’s where Ah was born, mah father was born, and his father. Our family’s roots run deep here.”
Little Chart was about to rebuke his father’s stubborn traditional attachment when another stallion’s voice interrupted them.
“Excuse me, do you happen to know where- oh, hello again.”
Both ponies turned to see Neighsay standing at the property’s fence, dressed in the same black robe he’d worn for the entrance exams and sporting a pair of saddlebags.
Hewn Oak turned toward the source of the voice and scowled. He set down his remaining stew in favor of his axe and stood close to his son as he faced the unfamiliar unicorn. “Who are ya? Rampart send ya?”
”He’s one of the proctors from my test.” Little Chart’s eyes narrowed. “He’s the one who failed me, even though it wasn’t my fault!”
If Hewn Oak had been scowling before, his gaze now nearly had enough intensity to ignite Neighsay’s attire. “Little Chart, go inside. Now. Bar the door behind ya.”
Hearing the severity in his father’s tone, Little Chart rushed inside and put a thick board into the metal slats on either side of the frame. His mind raced with a million questions about why he’d come here, but he set them aside in favor of finding his mom.
Hewn Oak kept a tight grip on his axe as he approached the fence, his gaze never leaving the unicorn. The fur on the back of his neck was standing up, and that only ever meant trouble. “Mah colt said you were there for his test in Canterlot, so tell me, who are ya, and what’re ya doin’ here halfway across Equestria?”
Neighsay took in the size of the earth pony before him. He felt a bead of sweat run down his brow and not just from the heat. Hewn was a whole head taller than his horn and held his heavy axe with the same ease he might hold a stick. “My name is Neighsay. I was the lead proctor for the entrance exams on loan from the E.E.A. I was there to ensure all the foals were held to the same standards and rules.”
One part of the question answered, one more to go, Hewn Oak’s expression didn’t soften. “Get to the point. What is your interest in mah foal?”
“Right,” Neighsay cleared his throat. “I’m here to offer your foal an apprenticeship.”
Hewn Oak stood silently, his expression becoming unreadable. After a few seconds, he finally spoke. “Why? And why should Ah let you anywhere near him?”
“The test was to lift a large bowl of water and balance it; your son lifted the water itself out of the bowl. That much natural talent is practically unheard of in a foal his age, but potential without proper education is wasted. He could grow into a very successful mage with the proper tutelage, even if it’s not in a classroom setting.
All that did was make Hewn Oak snort and swing his axe into the dirt, burying the blade with enough force that it supported itself. “If he’s such a natural, then why did he fail your lil’ test?”
“I’m afraid the test was levitating the bowl, not the water. On a technical matter, that was a failure,” He saw Hewn Oak’s scowl returning, hurrying before he thought to reach for his axe again. “I understand you may not be happy with me, but it was my whole job to make sure every candidate had the same standards, I couldn’t make an exception just for him.”
Seeing the larger stallion relax a bit, Neighsay continued. “Think about this. You clearly want your son to have a better life than what Cornwood offers. I would be happy to help with that.”
Hewn Oak’s gaze somewhat softened, and he heaved a heavy sigh. “Ah do. Being a unicorn here is hard living, and Cornwood’s fallen on hard times.” He looked skeptical despite his admission, raising an eyebrow. “And Ah understand y'all have rules, Ah do too, but there’s a point where they just get ridiculous. But mah own pa taught me nothing is free in this world. What exactly would mah foal be doing for ya?”
“Between magic lessons and general education, he would be expected to do chores, run simple errands,, and accompany me when a situation allows for a learning experience.” Neighsay traced Hewn Oak’s face for any signs of doubt. “Before I was a proctor, I was a professor myself. I assure you that I am fully capable of teaching Little Chart everything he needs to know.”
The large earth pony stood silent, his mind mulling over everything he’d heard. It did seem promising, but they’d already had one opportunity slip through their hooves. Nearly a full minute had passed before he spoke again. “And mah foal will learn enough to get by? Ah’ve never been to Canterlot, but Ah hear it’s a hard place to live.”
“It can be challenging for those who are not prepared, yes,” he admitted. “But in time he will learn everything he needs to harness his talent. He’ll grow to feel as at home there as any other unicorn. What do you say?”
“I don’t, it’s not mah choice,” Hewn Oak reached forward and undid the gate latch, effortlessly flinging it open. “You’ll have to go through your whole pitch again with him.”
Author's Note
Happy weekend everyone! Hope you’re all staying warm. Here’s another chapter for Little Chart’s story, and approaching the beginning of his journey.
