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Chapter Two: In Which the Fate of the Farm is Discussed
It wasn't until Sketch was setting the table that Applejack appeared, covered in the dust and dirt of a hard day's work in the overly dry apple orchard. Despite the grime coating her, Sketch smiled as always, feeling his heart race at her beauty. The smile didn't go unnoticed, and Applejack returned it. "Yer happy t' see me, even though ah look like ah was travelin' through the desert?"
"You're an oasis amidst the dunes," Sketch said, setting the dishes down and approaching the orange pony, kissing her lightly on the cheek.
"Ya think yer so smooth, talkin' like that."
"Would you like me to stop?"
"Don't even think about it."
She went to get washed up and Sketch finished setting the table, then returned to the kitchen to make the final preparations for dinner. His mind wandered as he did, flitting back and forth between the events of the day, then to the events of the past months, and finally to his arrival in Ponyville. In just a few weeks, he realized, he would have been there for a year. And it had been the happiest year of his life. Driven to the colorful town by tragedy, he had settled in and become a part of it, discovering true friendship for the first time. He had become an applebucker at Sweet Apple Acres, a job that he had never would have considered doing when he was younger. And he had fallen in love, something he had never even thought possible. He and Applejack had experienced a rough start, but things had been fantastic since then.
The one thing that was suffering, he thought sadly as he put the food into the serving bowls, was his art career. Oh sure, he had been filled with inspiration; Applejack was his muse and kept Sketch in a constant state of creativity. He had produced so many paintings that he could barely find room for them in his studio on the second floor of the barn. But that was the problem – they were just sitting in his studio. At first, many of the business proprietors in the area bought at least one of his paintings to hang in their establishments. But now, not only did most of the businesses have his works hanging on their walls, nopony had any money to spend after the horrors of the drought and the fires. The economy of Ponyville was grim at best. And Sketch himself didn't have the money or the connections to get his work into galleries outside of Ponyville.
With a sigh, he put the food onto the table and rang the triangle that hung outside the front door. As he waited for the Apple family to appear, he thought about the opportunity he had given up about six months prior. He had been asked to be a resident artist in a gallery in Canterlot, but he would have had to move away from Ponyville. He hadn't been able to do it; the ponies he had befriended had meant too much to him. Especially Applejack.
As if aware of his thoughts of her, Applejack sneaked up behind Sketch and surprised him with a kiss behind his ear. She was freshly washed and smelling of soap, her orange coat still a bit damp and the end of her ponytail dripping. "Ya look like yer a thousand miles away, sugar cube."
"More like a thousand years. Just reminiscing."
"Well, c'mon back t' today and tell me about yer first day teachin'," Applejack said as she took a seat at the table.
Before Sketch could answer, Apple Bloom came bounding into the room and said, "He was great, sis! We're gonna have so much fun doin' art! And you shoulda seen him handle Diamond Tiara!"
"Oh, fer pony's sake, what did that horse's patoot do this time?" Applejack asked with an exasperated tone.
"She was all 'art is stupid, nyaaaa', but Sketch showed her!"
Sketch just grinned sheepishly. "It wasn't really that bad. I just had to point out the practical uses of art."
"Yeah, well, Diamond Tiara is still a big neener-head," Apple Bloom said, as if an expert on the matter.
"I'm sure it's not her fault," Sketch offered, nodding to Big McIntosh as the red pony wandered into the room. "I used to hear the same stuff from the colts and fillies I went to school with. They were all brainwashed by their parents, and I’m sure Diamond Tiara is the same way. I'm hoping maybe I can chip away at that, but…" he shrugged.
"What about the other students?" Applejack asked. "Were they interested?"
"Yeah, they were, actually. I was surprised at how many of them were excited about my being there."
"That's because yer cool, Sketch," Apple Bloom said, again using her expert tone.
"Well, it's good to know that yer good with kids," Applejack said with a smile, and Sketch detected a familiar undercurrent to her words. He smiled, but beneath he felt a rising sense of anxiety that always accompanied Applejack's "hints". He wasn't sure why they always made him so anxious, but they did.
In an attempt to change the subject, he asked how the apple trees were doing. The answer was less than positive. It was expected that the apple harvest would be a poor one that year, the poorest they'd ever experienced. When Granny Smith sauntered into the dining room, they all switched the topic so as not to upset the older pony. She had been sick in the intense heat of the summer, and so the rest of the family did what they could to keep her in good spirits and good health, although she would constantly remind the family that she was as fit as she had been in her prime. Sketch was pretty sure that her joints probably hadn't popped and cracked as much in her prime, however.
After dinner, Sketch and Applejack set about washing the dishes and putting them away. They did so in silence for a bit before Sketch finally spoke. "Applejack, what are you going to do about the harvest?"
The orange pony shrugged. "There's nothin' we can do, sugar cube. It is what it is. We're in fer a rough winter, that's fer sure, but we'll manage. This here family's tougher'n the trunks of some of those apple trees out there. We've been through a lot, and we're gonna get through this, too." Her words were fiery and determined, yet Sketch could see the doubt in her eyes. He didn't say anything, though; instead, he put away the dish he had been drying and then hugged her. They stayed that way until they could hear a knocking at the front door.
"Now who in tarnation could that be?" Applejack muttered, breaking away from the embrace. She went off to see about the mysterious visitor while Sketch finished up in the kitchen. As he put away the last dish, Applejack reappeared, a serious look on her face. "Sketch, you'd better c'mere."
Curious, and not a little unnerved by Applejack's manner, he made his way through the house to the front door, where he stopped cold. His brain managed to register who it was he was seeing before it shut down completely. Ice water filled his veins and the dinner he had just eaten turned to lead in his stomach. He hadn't been going crazy earlier; he had seen who he thought he had seen. Both of them.
"Hello, Waldorf," Sketch's father said.
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Chapter Three: In Which Unexpected and Unwanted Visitors Arrive
"Dad?" Sketch finally breathed after about a half-minute of staring at the gray pony. His black mane held more silver streaks in it than the last time he had seen him. Sketch's eyes flitted to the mare next to him. "Mom?" The tan mare nodded, her finely-curled red mane bobbing as she did so. "What… what are you doing here?"
"Standing in the entryway waiting to be invited in," his father answered in a familiar terse voice, staring his son down with his icy blue eyes. "Do you plan on doing so?"
Years of hearing things like that came crashing down on Sketch, lighting a fire inside of him. He narrowed his eyes and said, "No. Please leave."
"Sketch!" Applejack said in a horrified voice from behind him. "That's no way to talk to yer parents! You two, come right on in and make yerselves at home."
"Well, it seems that somepony here has some manners," Sketch's father said and he brushed past his seething son. He watched his parents head into the living room, unable to comprehend their presence. It was a clashing of worlds – his past life, which he had hoped would be long forgotten, and his present life, in which he was happy.
"Mah name's Applejack, and this here's mah family's apple farm," Sketch heard as he finally followed everypony into the living room. "Can ah get you two anything?"
Sketch's father shook his head, but his mother asked, "Do you have any tea, dear?"
"Sure thing, ma'am."
"Please, call me Ginger Snap."
Once Applejack left the room, Sketch just about lanced his parents with his eyes. "All right, what are you doing here? And what are you up to?"
"Such suspicion," Sketch's father said, shaking his head. "For your information, we're in town to look into a rather lucrative business opportunity."
"That's what I was afraid of," growled Sketch. "Why Ponyville? Because I'm here? You didn't get enough of ruining my life when I lived in Whinnypeg?"
"Believe it or not, Waldorf, the world does not revolve around you. Our finding you here was nothing more than a coincidence."
"Although," his mother added in an uncharacteristically soft voice, "It's nice to know you aren't dead like that artist friend of yours. You could have written to us to let us know you were safe and well."
"Sketch, ya never wrote to yer parents to tell them you were here?" Applejack exclaimed, entering the room again.
"No," he mumbled, suddenly feeling outnumbered.
"Ginger Snap, I got yer water on the stove top. And are ya sure I can't get you anything, uh…?" She looked at Sketch's father.
"Astor," he said. "And no, thank you."
"So how did ya know Sketch… er, 'Waldorf', was here?" Applejack asked. "At the farm, ah mean."
"We were checking out the local establishments and started to notice the paintings that had been hung up in each one," Astor explained. "Ginger Snap took a closer look and recognized Waldorf's style."
"You… you could actually tell they were mine?" Sketch asked, blinking in amazement.
"Of course," Ginger Snap said with an incredulous expression. "You showed me your work a number of times."
"Yeah, but I… I never thought you ever actually looked at any of them," Sketch mumbled.
"Well, I did," she replied in a quiet voice.
"Ah think that's sweeter'n an apple pie with ice cream!" Applejack said, throwing a quick look at Sketch. "Ah have to say, yer son is one of the most talented ponies ah've ever met. Not to mention a hard worker. He helped us out with the apple harvest last year, and ah ain't never seen a pony go from never applebuckin' to what ah saw him doin' at the end of the season." Just the then the tea kettle began to whistle. "Oops, excuse me, ah'll be right back."
Once Applejack left, Astor looked at Sketch and raised an eyebrow. "Applebucking? All those years of private school and you end up on a farm doing manual labor?"
"I'm still painting, too, you know," Sketch said by way of an argument, then realized too late how useless it was.
"So you're wasting your schooling and your time. And who is this country bumpkin?"
That was the last straw. "Get out," Sketch said in a low, chilly voice. "Get out of here right now."
"We do need to get some sleep before our meeting with the mayor tomorrow," Astor said and stood, as if the thought of leaving had been his all along. "Perhaps while we're here we can finally talk some sense into you, Waldorf."
"Stay away from me, dad," Sketch warned, his anger heating him up like the summer heat had for months. "Just… get out."
The two made their way out the front door and Sketch watched, glaring the entire time. Ginger Snap turned and gave her son a look which caught him by surprise. Was it a look of regret? Of sadness? It was too brief to tell, and by all accounts Sketch was probably just imagining it. Neither of his parents was capable of those types of emotions.
"It's still pretty hot, so be careful when ya… hey, where'd they go?" Applejack said, wheeling in Granny Smith's ancient, wobbly tea cart with a steaming cup of sloshing tea on the top.
"They're gone," Sketch said simply.
"Sketch, you didn't…" Applejack asked with a note of frustration in her voice.
"Applejack, they're up to no good, I just know it!"
"Sketch," Applejack said in calm yet stern voice, her eyes narrowing. "This here is mah house and you've no right to run anypony outta here."
"But you should have heard what they said about you! They-"
"Mah… house… ," Applejack repeated, her voice rising. "And ah'll grant ya that you've obviously had a bad relationship with yer parents, but they're still yer kin. There's no call t' be treatin' 'em like that."
Sketch wanted to keep arguing, to make Applejack see his point of view. But he knew it was useless. Only he knew what it had been like to grow up under his father and mother. Only he knew what they had done and what they were capable of. And the two of them were always able to charm anypony onto their side. So, filled with anger and frustration, Sketch just shook his head and walked out into the warm evening air in the direction of his studio with the same question repeating in his head: What were his parents doing in Ponyville?
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Chapter Four: In Which a Second Encounter Takes Place
The following morning at breakfast both Sketch and Applejack acted as if nothing had transpired the previous evening. Sketch wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing; he was just glad that Applejack was still speaking to him. After breakfast he headed out to the barn to practice his applebucking on the sandbag. He had gotten exceptionally better since the previous season, but he wanted to keep his muscles in good shape. After a rigorous workout and a quick freshening-up, he wandered into town to see Twilight Sparkle.
"So you don't know why they're here specifically?" she asked after Sketch had told her about his encounter with his parents.
"No. Just that they had a meeting with the mayor this morning."
"Must be something pretty big," Twilight said, rubbing her chin with a hoof.
"That's what I'm afraid of." He received a questioning glance, so he added, "They're big city ponies. They think big and act big. And Ponyville is… Ponyville. Whatever they're planning, this town isn't ready for it."
"Can it really be that bad?"
Sketch nodded. "I just wish Applejack could understand that."
"Applejack is very trusting of people, Sketch, you know that. That's why she took you in without even really knowing you at first."
"Then why can't she trust me when I tell her that my parents are bad news?" he asked, his words heavy with frustration.
"Because she also has a very strong sense of family. Her family is the most important thing in her life. I'm sure her attitude isn't based on distrust for you, just her close ties to family."
"Something I definitely don't understand," Sketch muttered. But he did understand Twilight's point. He had been so quick to push his view of the situation onto Applejack that he hadn't considered her view of it. He would have to have a talk with her later on. "I have to get going," he said, realizing what time it as. "I want to grab a bite to eat and think about my lesson plan before heading to the schoolhouse. Thanks for listening to me."
"Hey, what are friends for?" Twilight said, giving Sketch a hug. They said their goodbyes and Sketch stepped out into the warm sunlight. The breeze was a bit cooler that day, and he smiled at the thought of being able to wear his treasured gray overcoat once again. Whistling, he trotted towards the little café not far from the library, nodding at the ponies who said hello to him.
He stopped in mid-whistle as bumped into his parents at the café. "Hello again, Waldorf," Astor said, looking up at his son through the circular frames of his negotiation spectacles. The stallion always wore them in his dealings, regardless of the facts that the lenses were clear glass and that his vision was perfect. Sketch always figured that his father wore them for effect, to appear more businesslike. In his opinion, they just made his father look more pretentious. "I don't suspect you can kick us out of here ," Astor added and returned his attention to the menu.
"Unfortunately, no," Sketch muttered, annoyed.
"Why don't you join us, Waldorf?" his mother said in a tone that was surprisingly inviting. Caught off guard, Sketch just nodded and sat himself at the little table. "How are you?"
"I'm… good," he answered, still a bit unnerved at his mother's sudden warmth. "I just wanted to get some food before heading to the school."
"The school?" Astor looked up from his menu. "Don't tell me you're studying to change professions again."
"No, dad, the elementary school. I'm teaching there."
"Well, a proper job at last."
"I'm just teaching art to the students."
"Ah. Well, I had hope for a moment there." He looked back down at the menu and missed Sketch shaking his head.
"I think it's wonderful," Ginger Snap said, smiling at Sketch. He wanted rather badly to just outright ask his mother why she was being nice, but he was afraid that if he did, she would stop.
Perhaps spurred by his mother's new attitude, but mostly motivated by his encounter with Applejack the previous night, Sketch cleared his throat and said, "Look, I'm… I'm sorry I kicked you guys out last night. It was a bit of a shock to see you, first of all, and second of all, you insulted the pony I love."
"The pony you love? " Astor's attention snapped back to his son. "That apple farmer? Why?"
Before Sketch could retort, Ginger Snap said, "It's not important why, Astor. I'm happy our son has found someone."
"He should have continued searching. Falling in love with an apple-harvesting hick? My son?"
Sketch slammed his hooves down on the table and stood up, startling a few ponies at nearby tables. "Did you really wonder why I never wrote to you, dad? This is why. Because nothing is ever good enough for you, unless it's the way you want it to be. I will never be you and I will never be the pony you want me to be. I've made my own way here and I've got my own life. Do me a favor and stay out of it." With that he stormed off, his appetite completely gone.
***
Teaching the children that day was not the easiest thing that Sketch had ever done. His mind was still on his parents and his emotions were far from calm. That, coupled with his usual fear of public speaking, caused him to stumble over his words, to forget things, and to generally look like a fool. It didn't help that with every mistake he made, Diamond Tiara and her friend, Silver Spoon, snickered loudly.
After his lesson, he wandered out of the schoolhouse in a funk, sighing heavily. "Hey, big bro!" Apple Bloom's voice called him out of his dark cloud. She and her friends came trotting up to see him.
"Hey, little sis. Sorry about bombing in there today."
"Nah, ya did great," she said, lightly punching his foreleg.
"Yeah, you did amazing, Waldorf ," Diamond Tiara said snidely as she walked by.
"How in Equestria do you know my real name?" Sketch asked in a tone a bit more angry than he should have allowed himself to be with a filly.
"Your father is doing business with my father. You should have heard the things he said about you."
"Believe me, I've heard them all before," Sketch said with a frown. "What kind of business are they doing?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" she said and laughed, walking away haughtily with Silver Spoon.
"Ooo, ah can't stand her!" Apple Bloom said and stomped a hoof.
"One of these days," Scootaloo growled and slammed one hoof into another.
With a sigh, Sketch said, "It's not her fault, girls. I'm sure her parents brought her up that way. It's the only way she knows how to be. The best you can do is to keep trying to be a good influence."
"Does that work?" Sweetie Belle asked with an incredulous look.
Sketch didn't say anything. Instead, he became distracted by a tan pony in the distance, watching the school. It was his mother. When she noticed that he had spotted her, she smiled and then turned around and left. Again, she was acting so out of character. What was going on?
"Sketch? Hey Sketch!"
"Hm? Oh, sorry, little sis. Got distracted. I'll, uh, I'll see you at home, 'kay? Bye, girls."
The fillies said goodbye and Sketch wandered in the direction that he had seen his mother. He knew she'd be long gone, but he thought, maybe, he might catch her. It wasn't meant to be, though, so he headed in the direction of Sweet Apple Acres, pondering his mother's strange new turn and wondering what his father was up to.
***
That night it was Big Mac's and Apple Bloom's turns to clean up after dinner, so Sketch caught Applejack on her way out to the barn. "Hey, can we, uh, talk?" he asked.
"Sure, sugar cube, what's on yer mind?"
"I'm… well, I'm sorry about last night. With my parents. You were right; this is your house and I had no right to kick them out."
"Apology accepted." She gave him a peck on the cheek.
"Thanks. But I want you to know that I still don't trust them. Whatever they're here for can't be good."
"And do ya know that fer a fact?"
"I know it based on previous experience."
"So ya don't know if fer a fact."
"Well, no, not really, but-"
"So why don't ya find out first before you go makin' accusations?"
"And how do you propose I do that?" Sketch asked, a tad more brusquely than he intended.
Applejack seemed not to notice, or was ignoring his tone. "Talk to them, ya ninny."
"I've tried. Twice."
"Seems t' me ya kicked 'em out before you could try the first time. Did ya get any farther the second time?" The challenge hung in the air as they entered the stifling warmth of the barn.
"Well, I… no, actually. I got angry with my father for… I got angry and left."
Surprising Sketch, Applejack cut him off by stepping in front of him and facing him. Her green eyes met his and held him in place. "Ah understand you had a rough childhood, sugar cube. Ah understand that you and yer parents didn't see eye t' eye. Ah'm not tryin' t' act like ah don't care. What ah've been tryin' to get you t' see is that yer not a young'n anymore. You moved out and went t' live on yer own. You did things without 'em, saw things without 'em. You grew up, Sketch. Now start actin' like it."
The words were spoken in a gentle way, yet they rocked Sketch on his hooves. Applejack was right – he had been acting like a rebellious colt ever since his parents had appeared. He wasn't being himself. Not the pony that he had become, that is.
"I don't understand how you can make me feel like a complete fool and somehow that makes me love you even more," Sketch said, kissing the orange pony. "You're right. I need to make peace with them. Thank you."
"Yer welcome, sugar cube. And ah must've made you feel like one powerful fool t' make ya fall in love with me in the first place."
Sketch laughed. "I do seem to remember feeling rather foolish."
"Ah can't wait to see how much more foolish ah can make ya feel," she said with a wicked grin and that underlying, hinting tone.
Chapter Five: In Which the Plan is Revealed
It wasn't hard for Sketch to find out where his parents were staying. There was only one place in Ponyville – the Ponyville Bed and Breakfast. It was run by an older pony named Morning Song whom Sketch didn't know well, but had met once or twice in passing.
"Oh, hello… er, is it Stretch?" the light blue pony asked when she answered the door, frowning in concentration and studying Sketch with her faded violet eyes.
"Sketch," he corrected the pony with a smile. "Sorry to bother you, ma'am, but you have a couple staying with you-"
"Oh yes, the couple from Whinnypeg!" she said with a bright smile. "I barely see them, apart from at the breakfast table… they're so busy! Do you know them?"
"Yes, they're, uh…" Sketch paused, finding the words physically difficult to say. "They're my parents."
"Well, I'll be! What a nice couple they are."
"I'm sure. Are they here?"
"You're in luck! They just returned from an outing this morning. I believe they're in the sitting room. Come in, come in!" The pony turned, her pale, yellow tail spinning behind her, and she led the way inside.
Astor was sitting at a small table going over some documents, and Ginger Snap was reading a book from the small bookshelf on the wall. She happened to look up as Morning Song and Sketch entered the room and her eyes grew wide. "Waldorf, what are…? This is a surprise!"
"Oh my, a family reunion!" Morning Song squeaked, an almost inappropriate sound from a pony her age. "I'll go put some tea on and bring in some cookies."
"To what do we owe the honor of your presence?" Astor asked without glancing up from his documents, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Doing his best to ignore the biting tone, Sketch answered, "I wanted to apologize. Again. And bring a peace offering." He opened his worn saddlebag and extracted a jar, placing it on the coffee table in front of his mother. "It's apple butter. I learned how to make it last year after applebucking for the first time."
"I'm sure it's delicious," Ginger Snap said, giving Sketch a warm smile. "You did, after all, inherit my culinary abilities."
"A shame he never put them to good use," Astor muttered, "opting instead to be a farm worker."
Sketch's first instinct was to jump on the defensive, but instead he chose to take the offensive. "I use the money from applebucking to invest into my art career, dad. That's something I think you can appreciate."
Astor paused and finally looked up. "You're right. Well done, Waldorf. And how is your art career going?"
The little bit of momentum Sketch was starting to feel ground to a halt. "It, uh… it's been better," he mumbled.
"Hmm. I guess at a time like this, economically speaking, something as frivolous as art doesn't seem like such a hot commodity."
The anger burned through Sketch, but he managed to keep it under control. He decided to change the subject. "So how was your meeting with the mayor?"
"Since when do you care about my business dealings?" his father replied.
"Since you came into the town that I've made my home, potentially affecting me and my friends."
"Fair enough. The meeting went very well, as I expected it to. The mayor seemed more than receptive to my idea."
"And that is?"
He opened his mouth to speak when Morning Song came trotting into the room, pushing a tea cart with hot tea and several varieties of cookies. "Here you are, some refreshment and snacks! Oh, is that Sweet Apple Acres apple butter? Delicious! Let me fetch some biscuits for you to spread that on!" She was gone again in an instant.
In the span of time that Morning Song had been a distraction, Astor had returned to his work. Sketch waited a moment and then cleared his throat. His father looked up at him. "Yes?"
"Your meeting with the mayor. You were going to tell me what it was about."
"Right. I have this idea to-"
"It seems I'm out of biscuits," Morning Song said, poking her head into the room. "Would crackers be all right?"
"That'll be fine, ma'am," Ginger Snap said, noting Sketch's frustration and answering before he could.
"As I was saying," Astor said, and they all turned to the doorway leading to the kitchen. When the blue pony didn't appear, the stallion continued. "I had this idea to turn Ponyville into a resort town."
"What?!" Sketch shouted as Morning Song returned.
"Oh dear, are the crackers not enough?" she asked, misinterpreting the shout.
"They're fine, ma'am," Ginger Snap said, rising from her spot. "But I was wondering if you could take me out back and show me that vegetable garden you were telling me about." She glanced at Sketch and gave him a wink. For the first time in his life, he wanted to hug his mother and not let go. When the two mares had left, he turned back to his father.
"A resort town? You're kidding, right?" Astor gave him a look. "Right, you don't kid. Ever. But Ponyville?"
"It's a prime location. It's not far from Canterlot, but it's far enough out that it can be considered a destination. It's right near the river, so it's waterfront property. And there are enough shops and cafes to keep ponies occupied while they visit, plus space to build more."
"And what if it becomes like Horseshoe Crescent, dad?" Sketch said in a low, hard voice. "Will you honestly let this town be destroyed like that one was?"
"'Destroyed' is the wrong word, Waldorf. It 'evolved'. It became something different. Something more lucrative. And yes, if that's the direction this heads, then all the better. Horseshoe Crescent did actually make me a substantial amount of money."
Sketch's resolve finally crumbled and he felt the irate younger pony inside rise to the surface. "And that's all you care about, isn't it? The next big deal that makes money. You can't just come in here and ruin the lives of the ponies that live here!"
Astor laughed. "I think you'll be surprised to hear that not everyone who lives here thinks it such a bad idea. The mayor certainly didn't. And I met a friend of yours today, a fashion designer named-"
"Rarity," Sketch breathed. "You talked to Rarity?"
"I was in the market for a new suit, and I happened to mention that there might be a lot more sales of her wares were I to bring visitors here with a resort."
Sketch didn't ask any more questions or say anything further. Without hesitation he had run out the front door, galloping in the direction of Rarity's boutique.
Chapter Six: In Which Battles Are Lost
Sketch arrived at the front door of Carousel Boutique sweating and panting. He reached up and pounded on the door with a hoof and tried to catch his breath while he waited. The door opened with the help of Rarity's magic and she called in a sing-song voice from the other side of the boutique, "Come in!"
Sketch entered, his chest still heaving a bit. "Rarity… I… you…"
"Oh, Sketch!" the unicorn cried happily, moving away from a sewing machine. "I met your parents this morning! And what a meeting! Did you know that your father said-"
"Yes," Sketch said, cutting her off and taking a deep breath. "I just talked to him. Rarity, you can't do business with my father."
A look of absolute confusion crossed her face. "Why on Equestria not, darling?"
"Look, I'm sure he told you all sorts of things you wanted to hear and I'm sure he buttered you up by buying a suit, but-"
"He didn't just buy a suit, darling," Rarity said, her deep blue eyes practically on fire with excitement. "He's commissioning me to design him one! See, I've already started!" Her horn glowed and a large sheet of paper floated over. She had drawn Astor as she had seen him earlier, negotiation spectacles and all, and had designed a very modern and stylish suit coat in a charcoal color.
"It's wonderful, Rarity, but-"
"And he said that with the clientele that will be coming to Ponyville once it becomes a resort town, I'll be able to design and sell some of the foremost fashion designs in Equestria!" She was so giddy that she was practically dancing in place.
"But you can't honestly think that-"
"I simply must get back to work, darling," Rarity said, skipping back to the sewing machine. "I need to have this suit ready for your father before he leaves town."
Sketch stood in place and watched the unicorn go back to work, all but forgetting her visitor as she hummed to herself and sorted through fabric scraps. It had happened; his father had gotten to her. He had seen it happen to ponies in the past after negotiations with Astor, but he had never before been close to somepony that it had happened to. His father was a master of telling ponies what they wanted to hear in order to get them on his side. And, with a sick feeling in his stomach, Sketch realized that Rarity was only the beginning.
***
"What exactly does your father do for a living?" Twilight Sparkle asked after Sketch had related the recent events to her. "You've never actually mentioned that."
"Mainly he owns two hotels, one in Whinnypeg and one in Manehattan," Sketch said, browsing a row of books without actually reading the titles. "But he does a number of other things on the side, including investing in businesses and loaning out money."
"But wouldn't those things be of help to Ponyville?"
Sketch stopped and looked into Twilight's violet eyes. "Have you ever heard of Horseshoe Crescent?"
The unicorn frowned in thought. "Isn't that a luxury resort up near Vanhoover?"
"It is now, but at one time it used to be a town just like Ponyville."
"What?! How is that even possible?"
"My father happened to it. I remember going there with him when I was younger, when it was still a small town. It had cheerful residents and family-run businesses, and a general sense of happiness to it. My father had the same idea then – to turn it into a resort town. He got everypony in town fired up about it, and they made the preparations and started bringing in visitors. Then, new businesses started to move in, driving the smaller businesses under. Soon, most of the shops and restaurants and even the residents were all transplanted from other cities. Then, my father partnered with another businesspony and they more or less bought the entire town in order to turn it into one large resort. After that was finished and the resort was doing well, my father sold his portion and was done with it. Nopony who had been an original resident of Horseshoe Crescent remained; they had all moved to other towns and cities."
Twilight stood staring at Sketch with a horrified look on her face. "And he wants to do the same with Ponyville?" Sketch nodded. "We can't let that happen!"
"We have to try to get everypony on our side, and that'll be difficult to do. My father is very persuasive when he meets somepony one-on-one, and it sounds like he plans on hitting as many Ponyville residents as he can to get them on his side."
"Let me at least go talk to Rarity," Twilight said with a determined look in her eyes. "She'll listen to me. She has to."
"I hope so," Sketch said in a low voice. He glanced at a clock on the wall and said, "I have to get over to the schoolhouse. Good luck, Twilight."
Sketch walked out of the library, glad that he had at least one pony on his side, even if he had the sinking feeling that they'd be going up against most of the town once his father had been there long enough.
***
Sketch galloped back to the library after his class. Twilight was waiting for him inside, a smile on her face. That gave him hope. "You talked to Rarity?" he asked with an eager tone.
"Yes," Twilight said, and added, "And your father."
Time seemed to stop for a moment, and when it started back up Sketch felt a thick dread rise from his gut. "And…?"
"I think he really means to do something good for Ponyville, Sketch," Twilight said, firmly believing her words. "I mean, just take a look around town. After those fires, we need all the help we can get, and your father seems to know what he's doing."
"What did he promise you?" Sketch asked, wanting to cut right to the point.
"He said that he would put an addition onto the library and fill it with more books, books from around Equestria!" There was a twinkle in the unicorn's eyes when she spoke. "And he said he'd be willing to give me a grant towards researching any subject of my choosing!"
"What?!" Sketch cried out. "But that doesn't even-"
"It's going to be about magic of some sort, but I haven't decided just what specifically yet," Twilight continued, pacing around the perimeter of the library in thought. "Maybe continuing research that Starswirl the Bearded never finished. That's something I could never do on my own!
"Twilight, what about-"
"Or maybe I could research the creation of my own spells!" she practically shouted, a huge smile on her face. She continued talking to herself and Sketch knew he had lost another battle, a big one this time. He lowered his head and slowly left the library, the weight of defeat bearing down on him like wet blanket.
"Sketch!" A voice behind him caused him to start and he turned to see Spike running towards him. "Twilight's been like that ever since she got back. I can barely talk to her!"
"I know," Sketch sighed. "Do me a favor, will you, Spike?" The little dragon nodded. "Keep trying to get through to her. And whatever you do, stay away from my father. Promise?"
"Will do," he saluted. There wasn't much that Spike could do, but Sketch could always hope. It might turn out, he thought grimly, that hoping is all I can do.
Chapter Seven: In Which the Tide Turns
Sketch didn't have the opportunity to speak to Applejack that evening about his father's plans. The orange pony had been in the fields with Big Mac until late into the night, fiddling with some kind of irrigation contraption that they had bought in Canterlot with the last of their savings. She was gone early the following morning, too, when Sketch went to find her. Knowing that he shouldn't bother her while she was doing her best to save the farm, he decided to try one last time to talk some sense into his father.
"Waldorf!" Ginger Snap said when Sketch showed up to the bed and breakfast. His mother was sitting outside on the patio drinking some morning tea.
"Good morning," Sketch said, managing a smile. "Where's dad?"
"He's off conducting business, where else?" Ginger Snap shrugged. "Wait!" she called as Sketch turned to leave. "I stayed here because I was hoping you'd show up. I'd… I'd like to talk with you."
"What is this new attitude, mom?" Sketch asked point blank. "I'm not saying I don't like it, I just… it's different."
Ginger Snap set down her tea and looked away from her son, silent for a moment. "I wasn't the best mother, Waldorf. I know that now . It took… it took me losing you to realize that." She breathed in and looked up with tears in her eyes. "When I found out about your artist friend dying in that horrible accident, I thought that maybe you were with him at the time. I was devastated. Believe it or not, so was your father." Sketch snorted. "Don't. He was , I promise you. When we found out that you were still alive, we hoped that you'd contact us to let us know personally. But we never heard from you. That was just as bad as thinking you were dead. I took a lot of time to think after that. I thought about you growing up and the way we raised you, and I began to understand why you left us in the first place. And why you never wrote to us. Your father… I think he understood, too, but he couldn't deal with it. He just sank deeper into his business deals, trying to block everything out. But I… I can't believe I… I'm so sorry, Waldorf."
Stunned into silence, Sketch watched his mother break down into sobs. He stepped forward and held her, tears stinging his own eyes. "I forgive you, mom," he whispered in a thick voice. "And I'm sorry. I'm sorry for shutting you out completely. I've changed, and I can see now that what I did was the wrong thing to do."
With a sniffle, Ginger Snap pulled away and smiled at her son. "I guess we've both grown up."
Sketch smiled, then became serious. "And what about dad?"
"I don't know. I know he's happy to see you, even if he doesn't show it, but-"
"Mom, we have to stop him. This business deal of his is going to destroy Ponyville."
"You don't know that for sure," Ginger Snap said, although she didn't sound convinced of her own words. "Besides, you know your father; once he starts in on business, it's impossible to stop him."
"Can't you talk to him? You're his wife, for Celestia's sake!"
She shook her head. "We made a promise early on to never mix personal and business matters. All he would do is to remind me of that."
"Then I'm all alone again ," Sketch muttered, looking down at the dry grass.
Ginger Snap reached out and pulled her son close. "If anyone can stop your father, it's you , Waldorf. You're the creative one. You always were. I never understood it and I treated you badly because of that lack of understanding. But now I see it for what it is – it's a part of you, and it makes you unique. Use that creativity to think of something."
Sketch almost broke down into tears again. That was the first time his mother had ever said anything encouraging to him. "Thanks, mom," he whispered. "And I will."
***
It wasn't something he noticed right away, but gradually Sketch began to become aware of an excited hush sweeping through Ponyville. He started eavesdropping on conversations as he passed by.
"…a resort town! Ponyville! Isn't that exciting?"
"…really need the money…"
"…and the buildings will all be fixed, and…"
Word usually traveled fast in Ponyville, but Sketch guessed that word of his father's plans must have set a new record. Everypony was brimming with joy at the prospect of their town becoming something bigger. All Sketch could do was shake his head, knowing that the ponies of Horseshoe Crescent must have felt the same way at one point.
He spent the entire morning and early afternoon trying to track down his father. Astor had certainly been busy. He had managed to get a number of ponies on his side, shop owners and residents alike. He had even managed to lure the Cakes onto his side, although Sketch guessed it wouldn't have taken much, considering the damage that Sugarcube Corner had sustained in the fires.
The biggest shock came when he ran into his friends in the town square. Twilight Sparkle was there talking with Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, and Pinkie Pie. Each one of them tried to talk over the other, and what Sketch was able to gather was that his father had promised each one of them something: Rainbow Dash would head up air show entertainment for resort guests; Fluttershy's animals would get a large parcel of well-tended land to be a beautiful garden, and a host of staff to help look after them; Pinkie Pie was to be the head of event planning for guests.
Sketch didn't bother arguing with them. The damage had been done, and their strength in numbers only heightened their excitement. He had to get to the root of the problem – his father. With every step he took his anger grew, the young colt inside breaking through the cracks. He was unable to release his anger, though, since Astor remained elusive, and eventually Sketch had to give up the search to teach his class for the day.
"Oh, Sketch!" Cheerilee said as he walked into the schoolhouse. The students, who were taking a test at that moment, raised their heads, pencils in their teeth. "I have wonderful news!"
"I could use some," Sketch said in a weary voice, approaching her desk.
"We'll be getting those art supplies soon!" the teacher beamed. "And more!"
Sketch couldn't do anything except stare into Cheerilee's excited blue-green eyes. "My father was here, wasn't he?"
"Yes! And he promised to loan us the money we need for the school! We… Sketch, where are you going?"
The anger was red-hot inside of him now. His father was infiltrating every part of his new life in Ponyville, and Sketch needed to find him before he could do any more damage. Galloping past surprised mares and stallions, Sketch swung his head back and forth, his eyes scanning for the gray pony, until he finally found him conversing with a shopkeeper near the heart of the town.
"Dad!" Sketch shouted as he approached. He had the brief pleasure of seeing a look of shock register on his father's face, before it returned to its usual stony façade. "We need to talk. Now ."
"As you can see, Waldorf, I'm in the middle of discussing business, and I-"
"And I don't care!" Sketch growled, seething with rage at that point. "How dare you... you show up in this new life I've set up for myself and you squeeze your way into every corner of it. Well, I'm not going sit back and watch it be destroyed!"
"You'll have to excuse him," Astor said calmly to the shopkeeper. "He's an artist. Very emotional, you see. We'll continue this later."
"You'll continue, nothing , dad," Sketch said in a loud voice, louder than he intended. His volume was attracting the attention of ponies nearby, but he was too into the moment to care. "You'll leave this town. Now."
Astor lowered his head a bit and looked over his negotiation spectacles at his son. "I will do no such thing. I'm conducting business."
"You're ruining my life!"
"I'm sorry if you don't approve of the business I'm conducting. But I never mix business and-"
"Personal matters, yeah, I know. And that's the problem, dad. Maybe once, just once , you could take a look at your family first before you do business, and ask yourself what would be best for them ."
"How dare you? " Astor said, rage glinting in his own eyes. "Every business deal, every bit I've earned, has been for the welfare of you and your mother."
The crowd had become thick, and there was a harsh murmur running though it, a sound that raised the hairs on Sketch's neck. Overhead a few pegasi glanced downwards at the two ponies. "You did it for yourself, dad," Sketch said in a low, but firm voice. "I would have been happy to have you as a father, even without the money. But it's always been about how much business you could do, how much money you could make. No matter whose life you had to destroy to do it. Including mine. Now," he growled, locking his applebucking-toned legs into a tight stance, "You can leave on your own, or I'll take it upon myself to buck you right out of here."
"Sketch!" He turned to the sound of Applejack's voice. She was at the forefront of the crowd, along with the rest of his friends, each one glaring at him, but none so heated as the orange pony's. "Ah can't believe you! Why are you actin' like this? Don't ya want Ponyville… don't ya want the farm t' survive?"
"Oh no…" Sketch breathed and turned back to his father. "No. You didn't… you got to her, too?"
"Exclusive deal to sell Sweet Apple Acres apples and associated products to the future resort, to be resold to visitors at a reasonable price," Astor said proudly. "As well as a loan to supply the farm with proper irrigation and up-to-date equipment to keep future harvests healthy and productive."
Sketch turned back to the orange pony. "Applejack, you can't… you… my father, he…" Complete sentences refused to form in his brain as he looked into the anger-filled eyes of the pony he loved. There was such contempt in them, something he had never before seen. It scared him.
As Sketch stood there staring, he became aware that the murmuring had reached a peak, and he could make out angry words. Rainbow Dash, hovering above the crowd with the other pegasi, said, "You know, Sketch, you used to be cool."
"Why do you want to see Ponyville suffer?" Mr. Cake said, stepping forward, an uncharacteristic look of absolute seriousness of his face.
"He's not even from here," a voice shouted from somewhere in the crowd. "Why would he care?"
"Sketch," Twilight said in a stern voice that he had never heard before, "I think you'd better go." The crowd seemed to agree, and the voices reached a frightening crescendo. With tears in his eyes, Sketch took one last look at Applejack, whose countenance had not changed one iota. How could his friends have turned against him like that? It was as if they were different ponies altogether.
He turned to his father. "Congratulations, dad," he said in a defeated voice. "You've managed to destroy my new life in just a few days. You certainly are efficient." His father opened his mouth to say something, but Sketch cut him off. "Save it. Just tell mom… tell mom I'm sorry… I wasn't creative enough."
With that he galloped away from Ponyville, unsure of his destination, blinded by emotions and tears.
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Chapter Eight: In Which Our Protagonist Dreams
It wasn't until Sketch stopped to catch his breath that he realized where he had run to. There, in front of him, was a familiar building, the first he had seen when he had made his journey to Ponyville. The shack was just as run-down and decrepit as it had been when he had last seen it. Still, at the moment, it was a more welcome sight than Ponyville.
"Home sweet home," he said in a weary voice. The last time he had been there, he had been hauling his wagon of art supplies. Now, those and his paintings – and his treasured gray overcoat – were all at Sweet Apple Acres. There was no way he could go back for them. They were lost, another chapter of his life that he'd have to walk away from.
Exhausted from galloping and from the emotions that battered him, he walked into the shack and collapsed onto the dirty floor, uncaring of the filth that surrounded him. His mind buzzed and tumbled, trying to sort out what had happened. His friends… his neighbors… Applejack… they had all turned on him, become angry with him. They hadn't even wanted to hear his side of things. Had his father done all that? Had he really managed to convince everypony so absolutely? It didn't seem possible.
Sketches eyelids grew heavy, and though evening was just beginning, he could think of nothing better at the moment than falling asleep. It had been a while since he had slept out in the open, but at least it wasn't cold. With a few tears still stinging his eyes, sleep swept over him like a tidal wave and engulfed him.
***
The crowd stood before him, their eyes red and glaring, their faces twisted and monstrous. They shouted at him, they mocked him, they advanced on him slowly. Sketch backed up, fear gripping him like the tight hold of a dragon. "You don’t understand," he shouted, though no words left his mouth. "I love Ponyville! I'd do anything for it!" Still the crowd advanced, and even though Sketch turned his head so as not to see it, the terrible sounds still assaulted his ears.
Without warning, there was burst of wind and something landed in front of him. He turned back to see the crowd receding, the grotesque caricatures of ponies backing away in fear. Standing between him and the crowd was a dark blue pegasus with a flowing mane and tale. She turned and Sketch started; she wasn't a pegasus, she was an alicorn! Recognition finally clicked into place.
"Princess Luna," Sketch breathed, and then gathered his wits and bowed. He looked back up at the princess, catching her eyes, and in that moment a burst of clarity ran through him like a chill. "I'm… I'm dreaming, aren't I?"
"Yes, Sketch, you are dreaming," the princess said in a soft voice. "But this is my domain, and I can visit you as easily as I can in the waking world."
"Why me?" Sketch asked, looking around at the dreamscape, but seeing no traces of the monstrous ponies. "I mean, I'm grateful that you scared away my nightmare, but…"
"There's been a disturbance of late."
"A disturbance?" Sketch turned his head and met the beautiful mare's blue eyes. "What sort of a disturbance, your highness?"
"Many of the dreams of the ponies in Ponyville have been absent," she responded with a frown. "There are still a small number that continue to dream, but the others… it's as if something has stolen them away leaving only… silence."
"What could be causing that?" Sketch asked, concern and curiosity in his voice.
"I'm unsure. But it is something magical in nature. You seem to be one of the few ponies unaffected and mindful that something is wrong. And the only one with the determination to stop it. It's up to you to figure out what's happening to Ponyville and to save it."
"Me? But…" The words that the faceless pony shouted earlier in the day came to him. "I'm not even from Ponyville."
"But you've become a part of it. You haven't just found a place to live, Sketch, you've found a home. And I know you'll do what you must to protect it. I've seen that much in your dreams, and a pony's dreams reflect what is in his heart."
Sketch paused, considering the princess's words. "You're right, your highness. I… I can't just run away from it. I have to do something."
Princess Luna smiled. "Rest assured, my child, that you will not be alone. I'm sending help to you."
"Thank you, your highness. I'll do what I can."
The princess smiled and turned, spreading her strong wings to fly away. For a moment she hesitated, then turned around. There was a slight sheepish look on her face. "By the way, do you think… do you think someday you could do a painting of me like you did of my sister? Perhaps I'm vain, but the only paintings of me that exist are… unflattering."
"I… I would be honored, your highness," Sketch said with a swelling in his chest. The princess gave him one last smile as a "thank you" and took off into the sky.
***
A shriek and a crash outside of the shack jolted Sketch from his sleep. Disoriented both by the dream he had experienced and his surroundings, it took almost a full minute for him to sort everything out. "Help…" he said to himself, thinking of the crashing sound he had heard. Scrambling to his hooves, he raced out of the shack. "Hello? Anypony there?"
"Um, yes… me…" came a female voice somewhere in the trees.
"Are you all right?" Sketch called, trying to pinpoint the source of the voice.
"Yeah. I just don't know what went wrong…"
Chapter Nine: In Which Help Arrives
A gray pegasus extracted herself from a clump of trees, shaking off some leaves. A twig remained tangled in her yellow mane, but she seemed unaware of its intrusion. She looked at Sketch with a pair of misaligned yellow eyes and grinned sheepishly. "I was looking for someone and I saw that shack, so I swooped down to get a better look, and… well, I've never been very good at swooping." Before Sketch could say anything, the grin disappeared and her distinctive eyes grew wider. "Oh! Oh oh oh! It's you! I found you! She said you'd be in the shack and she was right!"
"Do you mean… did the princess send you?" Sketch asked. He hadn't yet determined whether or not his interaction with Princess Luna in his dream had been real, but it seemed that it may indeed have been more than just an ordinary dream.
"Yes! She told me you'd need my help!" The mare frowned. "I forgot your name, though. It's, uh… it's Scratch, right?"
"Sketch," he corrected her with a smile. "And you're… Derpy, right?" The mare twisted up her face. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I get it wrong?"
She sighed. "No. Yes. Sort of. It's… everyone calls me that. It's a nickname I got when I was a filly. It sort of stuck."
"Oh. Well… what's your real name?"
"Ditzy Doo."
"Sooo… Ditzy… not Derpy?" Sketch asked with a slight raise of an eyebrow. The mare nodded. "Okay, then, Ditzy. And I understand. I'm the opposite; I don’t like my real name, so I stick with my nickname."
"What's your real name?"
"Waldorf."
She thought about it for a moment and then nodded. "Yup, Sketch is much better." They stood in silence for a moment, then Ditzy waved a hoof at the shack. "So, why'd you come here? "
"This was my first home when I came to Ponyville," he said, glancing at the shack, then back at the confused pegasus. "It's a long story. What I want to know, though, is why did Princess Luna send you in particular?"
"Well, I was looking for you anyway."
That took Sketch by surprise. "You were?"
"Uh-huh. I was there yesterday when you were yelling at your father. When you ran away, I tried to follow you. I wanted to let you know that I'm on your side. But I lost you when you got here to the forest, so I went home. Then Princess Luna came to me in a dream and told me to look for this shack and I'd find you."
"Wait, you… you're on my side? You don't think my father should turn Ponyville into a resort town?"
"No!" Ditzy said, and snapped her wings out and in emphatically. "I love Ponyville. I don't want to see it become something different! But everypony else… It seems like they've changed, like they aren't themselves…"
Sketch just about jumped for joy. "Finally! Someone who can see things clearly!" He stopped and looked at Ditzy with a growing sense of embarrassment. "I mean… oh, gosh, I didn't mean…"
Ditzy blinked a few times and then threw her head back, dislodging the twig that had been stuck, and laughed. "I get it! 'Cause… 'cause… my eyes… and I see clearly!"
Relieved that the pegasus was laughing, Sketch started tittering nervously, and then it grew into a full blown belly laugh. All of the negative emotion he had been feeling in the past few days seemed to dissolve in the wake of the laughter that he and Ditzy shared. When the laughter began to die down, he realized that both of them had fallen to the ground.
Ditzy took a deep breath and then asked, "Wait… what were we laughing about again?"
"Oh, nothing important," Sketch said rising to his hooves again and wiping tears from his eyes. "What is important is figuring out how to save Ponyville."
"Right," Ditzy said, straightening up and trying to look serious, though Sketch was doubtful that the pegasus could ever look truly serious. "So… how do we do it?"
"First we have to figure out what's wrong. Princess Luna said she thinks something magical is causing everyone to act weird. And it started when my parents came into town."
"Are your parents unicorns?"
"No. The only way they could do magic would be… would be if…" A bit of information from one of Twilight Sparkle's books floated up from his memory and then the answer came crashing down on Sketch like a bunch of apples. It had been there in front of him the whole time. For years, actually. "That's it!" he cried out loud, startling Ditzy so much that she jumped into the air and hovered there for a moment.
"What is?"
"It's my father's fault! And I know how he's doing it! All these years and I never realized it…" He glanced up. "Ditzy, I need you do something important."
"Uh-oh…"
"It's simple, I promise. No swooping involved. I need you to fly to the library and bring Spike back here with you. Tell him he needs to bring a book with him." Sketch told Ditzy the name of the book and made her repeat it several times before she saluted him and took off, crashing through a tangle of branches and sending down a shower of twigs and leaves.
Alone with his thoughts, Sketch sat down on his haunches and began to do some thinking, when he heard rustling from somewhere to his left. "Ditzy?" he called, thinking maybe the pegasus had crashed again and gotten lost.
"Nope," came a familiar voice followed by three familiar faces. "Just the Cutie Mark Crusaders."
"Apple Bloom! Scootaloo! Sweetie Belle! What are you girls doing here? Wait," he said before they could answer. "Let me guess – a certain princess of the nocturne sent you here."
"Uh… if ya mean Princess Luna, then yes," Apple Bloom answered, the other two fillies nodding.
"And you ponies haven't been affected? No, of course not," he answered his own question. "You're just fillies. My father has no business to conduct with you."
"What's wrong with everypony, Sketch?" Sweetie Belle asked, a tone of worry in her voice. "My big sister has been acting so weird lately."
"So has Rainbow Dash," Scootaloo added.
"And ma sis," Apple Bloom said. "But… you already knew that."
"Yeah," Sketch said, thinking of the way Applejack had glared at him the previous day. "But it's not their fault. They're under an enchantment."
"So what can we do?" Scootaloo asked, steeling herself up as if she was preparing to run a race. "We're ready for anything!"
"Is anything new going on in town? Anything I should know about?"
"Yeah, yer dad is doing some sorta announcement 'r something," Apple Bloom answered.
"A press conference," muttered Sketch. "Typical dad. But…" A slow smile spread over his face. "Perfect for ending all of this. Apple Bloom, girls, here's what you have to do. Go back to the farm. Go up into my studio. There's a painting there I want you to bring back to me." He described it to the Crusaders and they were off in an instant, their red capes trailing behind them.
Sketch watched the fillies head through the forest. A plan was forming in his head. "It's time to get creative," he said to himself.
It was a perfect day for a wedding… except for the rain. The whole town was packed into the barn at Sweet Apple Acres, and Sketch gazed from the open doors at the outdoor decorations, drenched with water. Rainbow Dash had offered to organize the pegasi for a weather clean-up, but Applejack had adamantly refused, explaining that the orchards desperately needed the water.
"Can ya believe it?" the orange pony said, sidling up to her new husband. "Of all the days fer it to rain, it waited until today."
"Kind of appropriate if you think about it," Sketch said, mesmerized by the sound of the falling water. He leaned against his bride, feeling the tickle of the lace on her wedding gown.
"How's that?"
"It was the rain that sort of brought us together in the first place. If it hadn't rained while I had been sleeping in that shack in the woods, I wouldn't have gotten as sick as I did, and you wouldn't have forced me to move in at the farm."
Applejack shook her head, causing the flowers that were tied into her headdress to bob. "Leave it to an artist t' think like that."
"It's easy when I have my muse nearby," he responded and kissed his wife.
They turned back to the reception and made their way through the tables, talking to everypony, smiling for pictures, eating when they could take a moment to. Despite the rain stalling the ceremony, it had been a beautiful event. Twilight Sparkle, who had been Sketch's best mare, had gotten Princess Celestia to officiate the ceremony. The rest of their friends were Applejack's bridal maids. Everypony looked amazing, thanks to Rarity's generosity with the dresses and tuxedos. A three piece band played beautiful classical music in the background, and the smells of food and hot cider danced around the room. As usual, Pinkie Pie outdid herself on the decorations; there was barely an inch of the barn that wasn't covered with white streamers or paper lanterns or cut-outs in the shape of a bride and groom.
The sound of laughter caught the newlyweds' attentions, and they turned to see Granny Smith howling in mirth. The old pony's health had picked up incredibly with the news of the wedding, and it was almost impossible to get her to sit still for more than a moment. She had as much energy as Apple Bloom and her friends, who were laughing along with the elder.
"Ah'm gonna go see what's so funny," Applejack said. She reached out a hoof and straightened her husband's boutonnière, then motioned across the room. "Why don't you go see how yer parents'r doin'?" Sketch turned and saw his father and mother sitting alone, but happy in each other's company. It was almost surreal, seeing them smiling at each other.
"All right, but only if you share the joke with me later," Sketch said with a parting kiss. As he made his way over to his parents, he was pulled aside by Filthy Rich, Diamond Tiara's father.
"Waldorf, I… er, Sketch, sorry," the stallion corrected himself with an embarrassed grin. "Sketch, I just wanted to, uh… well, about that painting… the one of Ponyville?"
"Yeah?"
"Well, I…" he cleared his throat. "I don't typically partake in the purchases of artwork, but my, uh… you see…" He glanced around nervously and then lowered his voice. "My daughter wants it, but she doesn't want anyone to know about it. Not even you. She's rather insistent on owning it."
"Oh. Well, uh, sure, I'd be happy to sell it to you."
"We'll make the transaction when things, uh, settle down for you."
"I appreciate that. And don't worry, I won't let on that I know you bought it for her."
"And I'd appreciate if you didn't mention that you sold it to me at all. Reputation to keep and all that."
"Of course," Sketch could barely keep from rolling his eyes. "Enjoy the rest of the reception, Mr. Rich."
The stallion nodded and walked away, obviously relieved that he no longer had to talk about something as opposed to his world view as art. Sketch just shook his head and smirked. He realized, though, that he had been successful in finally reaching out to Diamond Tiara. Somewhat successful, anyway. Still, that little bit of hope made him feel accomplished.
"What was that all about?" Astor asked as Sketch approached his parents.
"Business transaction," Sketch answered with a twitching smirk. "Sorry, can't discuss it." His father looked at him for a moment and then broke out in an amused smile. "Can I join you two for a bit?"
"You don't need to ask," Ginger Snap said, pushing a chair out for her son.
Sketch studied his father for a moment before asking, "How have you been since…? I mean, is everything okay?"
Astor nodded. "My brain feels like it's been… piecing itself back together, I guess. I was seeing things a lot differently through those spectacles. And now I'm seeing things as they are." He paused and looked away for a moment. "There's… something that I need to talk to you about, Waldorf."
"Anything, dad."
"Well… as you know, the enchantment only amplified existing feelings. It didn't create them." He looked back at his son with eyes that asked for forgiveness. "I never understood your obsession… no, your passion for art. I still don't really understand it. But what I do understand is that you are passionate about it, and I can finally accept that. I had always hoped that you'd be the one to take over the family business someday, but if it's not what you want to do… well, I'd rather you be doing what you love."
"That's all I ever wanted to hear from you, dad," Sketch said in a quiet voice, feeling tears in his eyes. "I'd say that's the best wedding gift I could ask for."
"I still wish you would've just let me pay for the wedding as your gift," he said with a shake of his head.
"I think your compromise was just as good," Ginger Snap said firmly, patting her husband's shoulder. Astor has been insistent that he pay for everything in regards to the wedding, but both Sketch and Applejack had politely declined repeatedly, saying that they had wanted to do it themselves. So Ginger Snap had stepped in and proved that she had learned a thing or two about business from her husband. After the discussion was over, Astor had agreed to buy a large amount of apples from that season's harvest, at a higher price due to the limited supply, and to sell them and any products made from them exclusively in his Whinnypeg hotel. When the supply was in greater numbers, he promised, he would buy more and stock his second hotel with them. In return, Sketch and Applejack used the money from the transaction to pay for the wedding, as well as their honeymoon to Neighagra Falls. All in all, things worked out and everypony was happy.
"Sketch," came a familiar voice from behind him, and his parents' eyes went wide. He turned to see Princess Celestia, flanked by two of her guards, smiling down at him. After a quick bow of respect from her subjects, the Princess said, "I'm afraid I must go. It's been a lovely event, though, and I'm so happy for you and for Applejack."
"Thank you, your Highness," Sketch replied. "I'm honored that you were able to perform the ceremony." Then he remembered something. "Oh! Before you go, I need to run upstairs to my studio and get something." The princess was curious, but nodded, and Sketch dashed through tables and the ponies milling about, and up the stairs that led to his studio. When he returned, he was carrying a large, flat package, which he gave to one of the guards for safekeeping. "It's a gift for Princess Luna."
"A painting?" Princess Celestia asked with a crook of her head.
"Yes. Tell her that the idea came to me in a dream." The expression of curiosity on the Princess's face grew stronger, and Sketch grinned. "She'll explain it."
Not too long after the Princess left, one of the band members managed to get everypony's attention and announced that Applejack and Sketch would have their first dance as a married couple. Surprised, Sketch met Applejack on the dance floor. "I thought you couldn't dance," he whispered, remembering the disaster that happened at the Midwinter's Ball months previous.
"Ah got a few moves you don't know about," Applejack returned with a mischievous grin. "Just you wait'n see."
The band members conferred with each other, prepared themselves, and began playing. It was an energetic country tune, and it caught everypony by surprise. Soon, cheerful laughter could be heard from every table, and Sketch himself joined in. "Well played," he said to his wife over the music. She responded with a smile and a gesture to follow her hoofsteps.
Sketch had never square-danced before, but it didn't stop him from having a fantastic time. He watched Applejack and tried to mimic her, but even when he took a wrong step or turned the wrong direction, he just laughed and kept on going. Soon, the dance floor was flooded with ponies who wanted in on the fun. Twilight Sparkle and her friends whirled around each other, smiling and shouting in glee. The Cutie Mark Crusaders went at it as if they expected their cutie marks to be for square dancing. Ditzy Doo had partnered up with a pony who had an hourglass cutie mark on his flank, and she managed to crash into just about everyone around her as she danced. Even Astor and Ginger Snap found their way to the action, smiling and grinning, their eyes never leaving the other's as they attempted to dance.
It was a perfect moment, Sketch realized as he circled around his beautiful wife. Everypony was happy and together, like a family should be. He half expected to look out the barn doors and see a rainbow arching across the sky, but in reality the rain had actually become heavier. That was all right, he thought. Rain was good for washing away the old and ushering in the new. And, as he looked into Applejack's sparkling green eyes, he knew that there was a lot to look forward to once the rain stopped.
THE END
Chapter One: In Which Art is Questioned
Sketch looked out over the eyes that stared back at him; eyes that studied him and judged him, that waited for him to say what he had to say. A bead of sweat rolled down the back of his neck from under his messy brown mane, in part due to the heat in the room, but mostly from his nervousness. Swallowing to moisten his dry throat, he tried to put his thoughts into some semblance of order. Of course he had practiced speaking over and over before showing up, getting his words into just the right order, but as soon as he had gotten up in front of everyone the words had seemed to scatter like leaves in the wind. For the life of him, he couldn't remember how he had meant to begin, but he had already wasted almost a minute just standing there looking ridiculous. It was time to say something . "Good morning-" he started, but his voice cracked, and as he cleared it he could hear snickering coming from several places in the room. He licked his lips and started again, a blush rising in his cheeks but thankfully hidden beneath his dark purple hair. "Good morning, class. My, uh… my name is Sketch, and I, um… I'll be teaching you about art for the… for the next several weeks."
He glanced over at Cheerilee, who gave him a smile and a nod. Then he looked back out over the children and caught sight of Apple Bloom. The little yellow filly grinned and gave him a wink. The encouragement helped a bit, and so Sketch continued on, grasping at his scattered thoughts the best that he could. "I've, um… I've studied art most of my life and… well, it's… it's had a big impact on me. I hope that you… I hope that it inspires you, too." Feeling more at ease now that he had gained some momentum, Sketch took a deep breath and opened his mouth again to speak.
"So, why exactly do we need to learn about art?" The interrupting question came from a prissy-looking pony in the second row. Her narrowed eyes seemed to be the most judgmental in the room, regarding Sketch in much the same way as many of his peers from his hometown had once done.
"Diamond Tiara," Cheerilee said in a stern voice, leaning over her desk. "That is awfully rude! Sketch is a guest here in the classroom, and you should show him as much respect as you show me."
"I was just asking a question," the filly said in an ingratiatingly innocent tone, though her eyes still spoke of a challenge.
"Actually, Miss Cherilee," Sketch said, trying to salvage the moment, "I'd like to answer her question if I may." The teacher nodded, but continued to glare at her student warningly. Sketch turned back to Diamond Tiara, meeting her challenging gaze. "You asked a very important question. Why do you need to learn about art? It's just a bunch of drawings and paintings and statues, right?" Diamond Tiara didn't say anything, but it was clear from her expression that she agreed. "Well, there a lot of reasons to learn about art. It's a way to learn about the history of our culture. Looking at the artistic works of ponies from centuries ago can give us insight into how they lived and how they thought. It helps us understand how we came to this point in our development, and it gives us an appreciation of how far we've come.
"Or think about it this way," Sketch said, pacing back and forth, fired up and forgetting all of his previous worries and anxiety. "When an architect plans a building, he doesn't just plan it for stability and function. He adds flares to it, decorations, things to make it aesthetically pleasing. Or when a baker makes a cake, she likes to put her own flourishes on it – flowers of icing, ridges, tiers. You see, art is about creativity, about putting a bit of yourself into what you do, whether it's painting or building or baking."
His gaze fell back on Diamond Tiara who, rather than looking inspired, was almost sleeping. And that's when Sketch realized that the filly didn't want to hear what he had to say; her question had been a rhetorical challenge, a bit of fun at his expense. His heart sank, but as he looked around the classroom and saw many of the other young ponies' interested, even hungry, expressions, he knew that he'd be able to reach at least a few of them. So, lifting his heart back up a little, he tried to recall the lesson he had put together and continued on as best he could.
***
"Thank you so much for doing this, Sketch," Cheerilee said once the children had filed out of the schoolhouse. "It's good to have an expert on the subject. I've never been much for art myself, to be honest. I still feel bad that we can't pay you, though."
"Don't worry about it," Sketch said, shaking his head. "I'm glad to share my knowledge with the kids. I wish somepony had taught me this stuff when I was young. You just use whatever money you do have on the art supplies we'll be using later on."
The pink-haired teacher thanked Sketch again and went outside. Sketch took a moment to wander around the schoolhouse, comparing the lively nature of it to the cold, sterile private school that he had attended as a young colt. He was glad that schoolhouse was still standing after all Ponyville had been through recently. It had remained untouched from the fires that had taken a good number of buildings.
With that thought, he found himself reliving the past few months, beginning with the drought. It had been such a hot and dry summer, far worse than anything Equestria had ever experienced. Then the fires had started. The vegetation, dry and brittle from the lack of rain, had somehow caught fire and the fires had spread with a vicious speed. The pegasi of Ponyville had worked diligently to channel water over the flames, but it did little to help. Twilight Sparkle had used all the magic she could to battle the fires, but even magic hadn't been enough. Finally, Rainbow Dash had come up with the idea of creating vortexes to suck the oxygen from the flames and put them out, and working nonstop with the other pegasi, the ponies had managed to finally kill off the flames. Unfortunately, the fire had taken almost half of Ponyville with it. Most days Sketch could hear the sounds of hammering and sawing as the residents helped one another to rebuild what was lost. He helped where he could, though his construction skills left a little something to be desired.
His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a familiar icy voice just outside the classroom window. "…so stupid. And you know what? 'Sketch' isn't even his real name."
"Seriously?"
"My dad told me. Apparently he changed his name to Sketch after his parents kicked him out of the house for being useless. His real name is-"
"Hey big bro!" Apple Bloom called out as she entered the schoolhouse, startling Sketch from eavesdropping on Diamond Tiara's conversation. Following behind the filly were her two friends.
"Oh, uh, hey little sis," Sketch said, using his pet name for her. "Hi Sweetie Belle, hi Scootaloo."
"We just wanted to say thanks fer teachin' us about art 'n stuff," Apple Bloom said.
"Yeah," Scootaloo said. "So much more fun than math."
"Math was never my favorite, either," Sketch said with a smile, stepping away from the window reluctantly.
"Will we get to actually make stuff?" Sweetie Belle asked eagerly.
"Absolutely! Miss Cheerilee is trying to gather together what money she can in order to buy supplies for you all. Once that happens, we'll make all sorts of things."
"Yay!" the little fillies yelled, and Sketch had to laugh. It was so great to see such enthusiasm.
"See ya' at home, big bro," Apple Bloom said, turning to the door. "We got a meetin' t' get to right now. Let's go, Crusaders!" With that, the little ponies bolted from the schoolhouse, chattering away excitedly.
Alone again, Sketch stepped back to the window, but Diamond Tiara was gone. But a mystery remained - how had she known about his real name? She said her father had told her, but how did he know? And where had he gotten the ludicrous idea that Sketch had been kicked out of his parents' house? Was someone spreading rumors about him?
Concerned, but unable to answer his own questions, Sketch slipped on his saddlebag and strolled out into the sunlit afternoon, the bright rays settling over his dark purple hair. Although summer was winding down and there was the underlying presence of an autumn breeze in the air, it was still quite warm, like the residual heat of a baker's oven after it had been turned off. Thoughts of bakers caused a pang in Sketch's insides. Sugarcube Corner had been one of the buildings consumed by the fire. The poor Cakes were working around the clock to get it rebuilt, but even once they did they'd still need to replace everything that had been lost.
Sketch passed by the bakery in question and saw Mr. Cake up on the roof working away with a couple of other ponies. The baker caught sight of Sketch and waved cheerfully. Returning the gesture, Sketch could only admire the pony's ability to stay cheerful through such a time.
Then he stopped cold as something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. When he turned, he saw nothing. Or, rather, nopony. Either they had gone around the corner, or he had been seeing things. Shaking his head, he opted to believe the latter. His mind had been on depressing thoughts all day; it was only natural that his subconscious would bring them up.
Depressing thoughts of past and present vanished as he approached the library, undamaged by the fires. Twilight had been unable to extinguish the fires with her magic, but she had been able to protect the library and its contents, though she had been exhausted and sick for days afterwards. Sketch had been there for her, as had the rest of her friends, watching over her and caring for her, as they had once done for him when he had arrived in Ponyville. With a rueful smile, he shook his head; what an interesting time that had been.
"Anyone home?" he called into the library as he opened the door.
"Hey Sketch!" Spike said, appearing from one of the rooms, waving his clawed hand. The little purple dragon grinned, showing a couple of sharp teeth, but otherwise looking as harmless as a baby dragon could look.
Following behind Spike was Twilight Sparkle, a bright smile on her face. "Sketch! How was your first day teaching?"
"It was… okay," he admitted. "I was so nervous, Twilight. I hate speaking in front of crowds. I almost couldn't do it."
"But you did, and that's the important thing."
"Yeah, I guess. I mean, once I started talking about the stuff I believed in, it just sort of rolled off of my tongue."
"I once read somewhere that when you speak about something you're passionate about, the fear goes away and you're left with just the passion."
"That's for sure. And some of the students were actually interested. Others… not so much."
The purple unicorn shrugged. "You won't be able to get everypony interested. When I start talking about magic, most ponies stop paying attention."
"Not me," Sketch said with a grin. "And on that subject, here are your books back." He turned to the side and Twilight's horn glowed, the magic lifting the flap of Sketch's saddlebag and levitating three books up into the air.
"I don't know how you have time to read them so quickly," she said shaking her head. "I almost think you read faster than me."
"I get so sucked into them," he said, watching Spike gather the books and set out to finding their resting places in the walls of shelves. "Magic has always fascinated me, almost as much as art. Heck, magic would make doing my paintings so much easier!"
"Did you want to grab a few more?"
"Not today. I actually have to get going. I'm cooking for the family tonight. They're so busy trying to keep the apple harvest from being a complete failure."
Twilight's face grew serious. "I can't believe what a rough time Ponyville has had. But it's been all of Equestria, too. Princess Celestia said that the drought hit hard in a lot of places, and that other cities and towns experienced fires, too."
"Does she know why?"
"She says it was just a chance of nature, like a hurricane or a tornado. And we're not allowed to curb things like that with magic. Too much meddling in the natural order of things can do even more damage."
Sketch shook his head. "Well, we've all got each other at least."
Twlight smiled. "That's for sure."
The two said their goodbyes and Sketch headed back home to Sweet Apple Acres. As he was passing through town again, though, he had another moment when he thought he saw familiar faces. As before, though, they were gone when he tried to locate them. Maybe it's just the heat, he thought, though it was hardly as hot as it had been. He tried to put it out of his mind and focus on the dinner he'd be cooking that night, but he couldn't help feeling like there was a storm brewing… and not the kind that Ponyville desperately needed.
View Online
Chapter Ten: In Which the Final Confrontation Takes Place
A crowd had gathered in front of the Ponyville town hall. After his experience with crowds the previous day, Sketch kept his distance and remained out of sight. Sweetie Belle had confiscated a long, black coat and a wide-brimmed hat from her sister's boutique for him to disguise himself with, but even just a glimpse of his purple hair made him easy to pick out of a crowd. From the shadows of a nearby building, he scanned the area to see if everything was in place. He caught sight of Spike by Twilight Sparkle's side, a satchel slung over his shoulder. The Cutie Mark Crusaders stood at the edge of the crowd, a wagon resting nearby with a tarp covering it. Overhead, a lazy cloud floated by in an otherwise cloudless sky.
Finally, the mayor stepped out onto the hastily-constructed stage and up to the podium. "Ahem," she cleared her throat into the microphone, causing everypony to quiet down. "Good afternoon, fillies and gentlecolts. As you know all too well, our beloved town suffered greatly this past summer. But today is the mark of something truly wondrous for Ponyville, a chance for it to rise again and be rebuilt, and to become something even greater. And here is the pony who will help us achieve that. I introduce to you, all the way from Whinnypeg, Astor!"
Sketch watched his father walk across the stage, stiff and proper, negotiation spectacles glinting in the sunlight. There was no anger in him as he watched Astor; he finally knew the truth and wanted to help his father. At that moment, Spike turned, as did the Cutie Mark Crusaders, looking directly at Sketch. He nodded, and then stepped forward, heading towards the crowd.
"Residents of Ponyville," Astor began, clear and loud. "Your town is a town of many things – beauty, joy, and strength. These are things that can serve as a foundation for so much more. I can see what Ponyville could be. And I'd like to share with you my vision for what potential your wonderful town has." Sketch took a moment to envy his father's public speaking skills before continuing through the crowd. Nopony paid him any attention, focused instead on Astor's vision for Ponyville. By the time Sketch reached the front of the crowd, his father had finished his oratory and was taking questions. Such was the trust that the ponies of the town had in Astor that nopony raised a hoof to ask a question. So Sketch did.
"Can you promise us that what happened to the town of Horseshoe Crescent won't happen to this town?"
Astor was shocked, first that someone had asked a question, then at the question itself, and finally at who had asked the question. "Waldorf? Is that… what are you doing? What are you wearing? "
"It's a simple question, dad," Sketch said, removing his hat. All around him rose the familiar harsh murmuring that he had experienced the previous day. He almost lost his nerve, but he knew that if he didn't do what had to be done there and then, Ponyville was lost. And so was his father.
Regaining his composure quickly, as Sketch knew he would, Astor responded, "This is a different town with a different set of circumstances. Each evolution of a town is unique to it and its residents."
"Oh, bravo, dad," Sketch said, climbing up onto the stage and shedding the coat he had borrowed. He looked out over the crowd and nodded to the Crusaders, who then started making their around the edge of the crowd to the other side of the stage. Nopony paid any attention to the fillies, instead focused on the confrontation taking place in front of them. "You didn't actually answer the question. You always had a flair for spinning the truth."
"I'm not a prognosticator, Waldorf," Astor retorted in a gruff town, frowning at his son over his negotiation spectacles. "I can't look into a crystal ball and see the future."
"No, but you can look into a pony and figure out what they want, can't you?"
The shock that had registered earlier on Astor's face was nothing compared to the gape of astonishment that Sketch saw at that moment. Taking the opportunity while his father was stunned into silence, he turned to his captive audience and… froze. The momentum that had been building in his confrontation with his father came to a screeching halt as he looked out over pony after pony, pair of eyes after pair of eyes, all watching him, waiting for him to speak, judging him…
When you speak about something you're passionate about, the fear goes away and you're left with just the passion. Twilight Sparkle's words appeared in his mind, and he located her in the crowd. His friend, his best friend, stared at him, half curious and half angry. Seeing her, even in the grip of the enchantment, warmed him enough to thaw his motivation. He had to do this. He had to snap her out of it. Not just her, but everypony else. Everypony including… his eyes found Applejack, giving him the same glare that she had been giving him with the day before. Instead of feeling frightened and alone, though, he felt determined.
"Somepony yesterday said that I'm not from Ponyville. It's true. I'm an outsider. But you welcomed me. You made me feel like a part of the town. And I became a part of it. I've only been here a short time. It's not my hometown. But it's my home . And I love it just as much as I know the rest of you do. You just need to be reminded of how much you love it."
By that point the Crusaders had reached the stage and Apple Bloom ran up onto it holding a large canvas. Smiling at his "little sister", Sketch held the painting between his two front hooves and lifted it high. The ponies all glanced at it, studying it with curious eyes. Sketch didn't need to see it; it was burned into his mind, an overhead view of Ponyville.
"I painted this just this past spring, before the fires struck," he said in a strong voice, stronger than he would have thought possible coming from him. "It was a labor of love. I went around town to the highest points that I could, on rooftops and treetops when necessary, and sketched the view from there. Then I put them all together and painted this. This is your home. This . Not some promised resort town. This is Ponyville. " He was elated to see the eyes of some of the ponies softening, their facial muscles relaxing.
"Now just a minute," Astor said, stepping forward and addressing the crowd. "There's no doubt that your town is a special place. But we can work together to make it even more special. I can see great things in your future!"
"Is that what you can see through those spectacles of yours, dad?" Sketch said, catching his father off guard again. Then he shouted, "Ditzy, now!"
From the lazy cloud that had been mysteriously stationary in the gathering autumn breeze came a gray blur. Sketch ducked and she passed over him, grabbed the spectacles off of Astor's face, and then swooped back up. "I did it!" she cried. "I swooped! I-" She crashed into the side of the town hall and fell to the ground.
"All right, this has gone far enough," the mayor said, stepping forward with a deep frown on her face. "Explain yourself, Sketch."
"Actually, mayor," Sketch said, glancing into the crowd. "Why don't we let Twilight Sparkle explain it?"
"What?" he heard her cry in surprise.
"Spike, give her the book." From the satchel, Spike produced a thick tome and handed it to Twilight Sparkle. She looked at it for a moment and then back at Sketch questioningly. "Turn it to page two-hundred and twenty-seven." Twilight's curiosity won out, as Sketch knew it would, and she levitated the book in front of her, flipping through the pages until she came to the correct one. Her eyes grew wide and she gasped.
"The spectacles," she said in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "They're the Spectacles of Sooth Sayer the Seer."
"Um…what does that mean exactly?" the mayor asked, looking at the unicorn over her own spectacles.
Twilight made her way up to the stage, the book floating in front of her. "The spectacles allow the wearer to 'see' into a pony and determine what he or she desires. Then, it casts an enchantment to lock that pony into wanting that thing above all else. When multiple ponies are affected in the same area, the enchantments start to build in intensity and become one large enchantment covering the area."
"Can you… can you remove the enchantment?" the mayor asked, concerned.
"Once the spectacles are broken, the enchantment will be, too."
Ditzy came wondering onto the stage at that moment, the spectacles dangling from her teeth. One of the lenses was missing and the other was cracked. "Sorry," she said, dropping them to the stage. "I almost had it that time."
"You were amazing," Sketch said with a smile.
"Oh!" Ditzy blinked a few times and then beamed. Then Sketch glanced out over the crowd. Everypony seemed to be back to normal, and there was no anger to be seen, though there was quite a bit of confusion going around. He turned back to the stage and looked at his father. The stallion looked as if he had shrunk. The cool, calm expression of business was gone from his face and replaced with worry. "Dad?" Sketch said in a gentle tone and approached him.
"Waldorf, I… I…" Astor's eyes teared up. "I couldn't help myself. I bought those glasses ages ago and thought it was a bunch of hooey. But they were the real thing! And the more I used them, the more addicted I became. And I…"
"I know, dad. It's a side-effect of the magic. It doesn't just look into other ponies to discover what they want most. It looks back into you and amplifies what you want most. And you wanted to provide for your family. But the more the magic worked, the farther you went until you lost sight of what you were doing. The enchantment became too strong and you passed the point of no return."
At some point, Ginger Snap had climbed the stage and approached her husband. "Astor, I never knew…" she whispered. "You never told me."
"I know," he said, almost inaudibly, hanging his head. "I'm sorry." His wife put a foreleg around his shoulder and pulled him close.
The mayor cleared her throat quietly and said into the microphone, "I think this press conference is over. Thank you for your time, everypony."
The crowd dispersed, slowly, until a small group remained – Spike, Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, and Applejack. Sketch jumped down from the stage and approached them. "Are you guys… okay?"
"I feel like I do when I finish flying around in circles for a long time," Rainbow Dash said, shaking her head a bit.
"Yeah, or if I was spinning around in place," Pinkie Pie said, then frowned. "Wait, let me make sure it's the same thing…" She began spinning around and around, and Fluttershy turned a bit green watching the pink blur. When she stopped, she stumbled and then flopped to the ground, and said, "Nope, that's more fun!"
"I can't believe we all acted like… like… well, not us!" Rarity said.
Sketch looked at Applejack. "And you?"
The orange pony looked down and said, "Ah can't believe ah doubted you, Sketch. Or that ah wouldn't listen t' yer side of the story."
"It wasn't your fault," Sketch said and kissed her on the cheek.
"What about yer father?" the orange pony asked, looking at the stage. Astor and Ginger Snap were still standing there, whispering to each other. "What'll happen now?"
"I don't know," Sketch admitted. "We need to sort some things out. But I think my family is going to be a lot different from now on." He excused himself from his friends to go check on said family.
Twilight was still on stage, studying the remains of the spectacles. "All of the magic is gone," she concluded. "Which is kind of a shame. I would have been interested in studying it further."
"Some things are better left alone," Sketch said, and Twilight nodded, but still looked a bit disappointed. He caught sight of Ditzy, watching things from the sidelines. "But not ponies," he added softly, and made his way over to the gray pegasus. "Thanks for your help, Ditzy Doo. It was good not to be alone in all of this."
"You're welcome," she said with a smile. "I'm just glad I didn't mess anything up!"
"You know, you should let me paint your portrait sometime."
"Me?" she responded, shocked.
"Absolutely. You've got a beautiful smile. I think it has to do with your eyes."
Ditzy blushed, but shared a smile with Sketch before saying goodbye. She took off into the air, narrowly missing another pegasus who happened to be flying by, yelling an apology over her shoulder which caused her to flip upside down. Sketch grinned and shook his head, then made his way to his parents.
"Are you going to be okay, dad?" he asked.
Astor nodded. He looked as if he had managed to gather his wits, some of the business-like calm returning to his features. But they were softer now, tempered with humility. "I think so, Waldorf. Thank you. Thank you for rescuing me from that enchantment. I can't believe I destroyed so many years of your life… of our lives, just because of those stupid spectacles. That was why I was always so hard on you… deep down I always had this wish that you'd follow in my footsteps and be a businesspony. But the enchantment took a hold of that and twisted it, made me lose sight of what you wanted. I wish I could take that all back."
"You've got a second chance now, dad. Make the best of it."
Astor smiled, an expression completely foreign to the pony's face. Sketch found that it suited him, though. Then the smile disappeared. "And you need to make the best of something, as well, Waldorf."
"Oh? What's that?"
"When I used the spectacles to look into your friend Applejack, there were two dominating desires. There was the desire to keep her farm afloat and her family from destitution. And there was another desire."
"What was that?"
Ginger Snap chuckled. "A typical male," she said, though more out of love than anything else.
Confused, Sketch just shrugged. His parents made their way off of the stage headed in the direction of the bed and breakfast. Only one pony remained nearby – Applejack. When Sketch's eyes caught hers, the conversation with his parents replayed in his head and suddenly he knew. He knew what Applejack desired, because it was the same thing he desired, only he had been too afraid to admit it. And, to be honest with himself, the prospect still scared him. As he made his way to the orange pony, though, he steeled himself for the question, prepared himself mentally. When he finally stood in front of her he opened his mouth and a squeak came out.
"Say that again?" Applejack said with a bemused look on her face.
Sketch cleared his throat. "I… Applejack…"
"No, ah Applejack. You, Sketch."
"We… what I'm trying to say is… oh, gosh…"
"Sketch…"
"You and I… that is, if you want to…"
"Yes."
"Because I… and… wait, what?"
"Ah said 'yes'." She kissed the surprised pony.
"How did you…?"
"A gal knows, sugar cube. Especially when it's somethin' she's been waitin' t' hear."
They walked side by side towards Sweet Apple Acres, although Sketch felt more like he was floating. He thought about how he had gained several families that day. He had gained the whole of Ponyville as a family. He had gained the mother and the father he had always wished he would have. And he would be gaining a family through his love for Applejack. It was becoming clear to him why family was so important to her after all. And he didn't need magical spectacles to see it.
Author's Note
There will be an epilogue to wrap things up, but if you're not into overly happy endings, then consider this the last of it.
