Rarity minced her way into the ramshackle cabin, ragged towels wrapped around her barrel and her mane. She had a great number of questions on her mind; about Mudpuppy, in particular, her Mammaw, her family, her... peculiar situation out in this swamp...  all those questions disappeared from her mind in a wink when she got a look at the inside of Mammaw's shack.

Bottles. Bottles everywhere, every size, shape and color, filled with liquids of every tint. Bottles, tubes, boxes, little ceramic pots and crockery jars, jam jars, canning jars. Dried herbs of every type imaginable, potted herbs growing in every windowsill. She spotted the tools of the herbalist's trade as well, familiar to her from many visits to Zecora's hut over the years-- mortar and pestle, scales, pruning knives, measuring cups and droppers...

Her original mission in coming to the swamp bloomed in her memory. Hope suddenly surged. "Miss, um, Mammaw? Are you an--" before Rarity could say 'alchemist' the elderly pony materialized in front of her and jammed a spoonful of... something... into her mouth. Rarity glurked, gagged and swallowed. Whatever-it-was burned and fizzed all the way down.

"My pepper-up potion," the crone said. "Keep ye from gittin' the faiblesse from all dat swampwater."

"Emphasis on the pepper," Rarity wheezed, tears gushing from her eyes. She swore she could feel smoke puffing out of her ears.

"You city ponies kin be tetchy," Mammaw said. "Best t' be a scoshe pre-ventytive."

Rarity was busy struggling to acclimate to the fizzing liquid fire bubbling its way through her system. "So you're a potion maker?" she managed to choke out.

Mammaw nodded, a grin creasing her wrinkles. "Best in de bayou," she said, with pride. "You got an ail or an ill, ole Mammaw got de thing for it. I know every herb an' root in this swamp."

"Fabulous!" Rarity gasped in relief. "Please, Mammaw, you have to help me--"

"Thought we was," Mammaw said.

Rarity shook her head. "There's a reason I came to the swamp," she said. "There's a little filly in Neigh Orleans-- and a dozen others like her-- who is terribly ill. If I do not find a particular plant to treat her, she may very well die."

Mammaw immediately looked grave. "What ails de chile?"

"We believe she was bitten by a Hinkypunk," Rarity said. "Fever, weakness, lethargy, and a faint glow like foxfire, especially around her horn."

Mammaw grunted in recognition. "Grave Candle," she said. "Poor chile not know better den to chase de swamplight, eh?" She tsked, and turned to her shelves of bottles and began rifling through them. "I treated dat often enough. One herb to treat dat, sho nuff... oh psha!" she exclaimed suddenly. She pulled down an open jam jar and held it up in disgust. All that was in it was a single dried plant.

Rarity peered at it. Sure enough, she could see the heart-shaped pods. "Yes, that's it!" she exclaimed. "It... oh dear, that's all?"

"Eh, run out agin," Mammaw muttered. "Been a while since I sent out Mudpuppy for it." She saw Rarity's distraught expression and patted her on the shoulder with a hoof. "Oh now, don't fret none. We'll set ye up right fine. We jest need t' fetch more. Mudpuppy!" she screeched over one shoulder. The gangly filly came galloping in. Mammaw held out the jar to her. "Ah'm outta Heart an' Hoof agin. Go take Miss, ah, Rarity here an' bring back a passel."

"How much?"  Mudpuppy asked.

"As much as ye kin git," Mammaw said. "Two full baskets at least. G'wan, now. Time's a-wastin." Mudpuppy ran out the door. Mammaw looked over at Rarity. "Thar's a cotton sundress by the door," she said, pointing to a clothes chest. "Tain't no fancy paints, but it'll keep the skeeters off ye."

"Er, thank you," Rarity said, automatically moving over to the chest. She pulled the dress out with her magic. No fancy paints, indeed. Not ugly, really, just... uber-minimalist, she told herself. It was barely more than a tube of cotton, with holes for the head and forelegs. And none for wings. ... and neither Mudpuppy nor Mammaw had even made note of the fact Rarity had wings herself. She realized with a start that due to one thing or the other--- being covered with mud, buried in soapsuds, or cocooned in towels-- neither of her hostesses had seen her wings.

She decided to accept it... but not due to any "skeeters." Some niggling instinct was telling her to not reveal her wings just... quite... yet. Worldview-shattering revelations later; lifesaving medicine first. She slipped into the sun dress while Mammaw's back was turned. She spotted a pair of basket-panniers and threw them on as well, hiding her wings further. "Wait for me, Mudpuppy dear!" she called. Before she trotted out the door, she looked back at Mammaw. The ancient nag was already puttering about, gathering ingredients around a kettle and muttering to herself. "Mammaw... when we get back I would like to speak to you. About Mudpuppy."

Mammaw stood still for a moment. "Y' saw her wings, I reckon," she said quietly. Rarity didn't reply. "We'll talk, den. When y' git back. I spose dat we'll have a moment.... Not in front of de chile, please."

"Understood," Rarity said. She trotted out the door. She stepped out the door just in time for Mudpuppy to mash a straw hat down on her head. "Hmm, deja vu," Rarity muttered, looking up at the brim.

"Best wear dat, City Lady," Mudpuppy said with a cheerful grin. "De swamp birds, dey don' know you, and dey mebbe ain't so polite when dey fly over de heads of strangers."

"Fabulous," Rarity sighed.

It was another slow walk further into the twilit swamp. They seemed at least to be going slightly uphill and into drier or at least more solid territory, Rarity noted with some relief. A quarter hour or so, they reached a little glen carpeted in undergrowth. Mudpuppy nosed around through the undergrowth. "This'll do," she said after a moment.

Rarity peered where Mudpuppy was browsing. She saw one or two tiny plants, little more than seedlings. "That's not nearly enough," she protested. "Those little things are far too small for what we need..."

"Gi'mme a tick," Mudpuppy said. Rarity watched in puzzlement as the gangly filly planted her hooves in the loam and lowered her head. Mudpuppy closed her eyes and scrunched up her face, obviously concentrating. Rarity saw a dim glow around the filly's horn... and around her hooves?

There was a rustling all around them. All around them the undergrowth began to move. As Rarity watched, shoots began spiraling up out of the soil. She stood, slackjawed, as leaves unfurled and blossoms opened, months of growth unfolding before her eyes in mere minutes. Within moments the clearing was filled end-to-end with a crop of Silphium,; everywhere she looked, the waving fronds of a plant that had been vanished from the rest of Equestria for nearly a thousand years.

The other plants growing there had been stimulated as well. The few ankle-high ferns were now towering enormous fronds straight out of a primordial jungle. Blooms of myriad plants were everywhere, on vine and branch and stem. Even the foliage of the trees seemed thicker and more lush. Mudpuppy sighed and stretched, opening her eyes and looking at the fruits of her labor with satisfaction. Earth pony magic, Rarity thought. Earth pony magic, or I'm a codfish. "My word," she said faintly.

Mudpuppy looked bashful. "Sorry it took so long," she said. "I go any faster and it hurts de soil and de plants." She grumped in mild chagrin.  "My magic is so darn slow..."

"Slow, she says," Rarity muttered, staring down into an orchid bloom the size of her head. "My dear, you seriously need some self-esteem boosters."

"G'wan," Mudpuppy said, waving a hoof dismissively. But Rarity could tell by her blush she was pleased. "A fancy-educated unicorn could prolly do dis every day an' twice on Sundays."

"No," Rarity said sincerely. "No, they couldn't."

The two began filling their baskets.

When they returned to the shack, Mammaw took the plants and set to work. She sent Mudpuppy out to play and set to dividing the Silphium up, root, stem, leaves, and pods. Rarity stood by while she worked, ostensibly to lend a hoof, but she found herself spending far more time listening.

"Roundabout a dozen years ago," she said, her voice as soft as the croaking frogs outside, "us ponies out in the bayou had a wee bit of a bumper crop o' foals on de way. Roundabout a dozen young couples, glowin' happy roundbellied mares an' dey stallions proud enough to bust dey buttons." She chuckled. "Oh, it was a happy day. Course, one or two o dem young couples took to frettin', anxious like dey tend to be, worryin' dat everyting gonna be okay wit dey foals." She finished mincing the root and added it to the bubbling kettle. She stuck a long wooden spoon in, set to stirring.

"A few went nosin' around in de big city, chattin' up wit de doctors dere. No harm in that, I spose... did hurt my pride a wee bit, me bein' de midwife round dese parts. Eh." she shrugged and crushed a few of the heart shaped pods with a mortar and pestle, dripping the juice into the brew. Her wrinkled face crumpled into a scowl. "Word got around, tho, that we had a passel o' mothers to be. Some folk saw it as an opportunity to fill they pockets."

She stirred slowly. "Roundabout comes this slick no-account, Call hisself Pro-fessor Cotton Mouth. Unicorn, skinny rake of a stallion. Tell one and all he a doctor of advanced medicine from Canterlot." Mammaw snorted. "Anypony could look at dat dandy-up couillon and tell he was a shyster. But he had a big fancy swamp wagon an' a nice shiny suit an' hat, and my he could talk up a storm, couldn't he?

"He started sellin' 'medicine' to all de swamp folk. Had him a fancy potion, a 'Ma-ternal Vy-tality Elixir,' he called it. Gassed folks up real good. Told 'em it would make the pregnancy go smoov as silk, the mother and the foal both healthy as a herd of horses. The foals 'ud be smarter, stronger....the unicorn foals 'ud be as magical as Starswirl the Bearded and the pegasi 'ud be faster than Commander Hurricane, or so he said.  Oh there weren't no end to the miracles his potion would work." Her voice shook a little. "Some ponies were leery, but half a dozen expectant mares, an' half a dozen more lookin' to be, went for it. Bought him out of stock.

"I knowed summat was bad wrong wid dat muck when I looked at it. Nasty, green glowin' stuff. But he blowed smoke about how dat meant it was potent..." she stopped and shook her head. "Dey chucked it back, cupful every day like he tole dem. Dey get sick, he blame it on mornin' sickness. Dey get feverish, or faint, he say it show de medicine workin....But he was so slick, so quick wid dat water moccasin tongue... even I stopped questioning 'im. "

"Few month later, he pull chocks and leave. Tell everypony he gotta go back to de palace, on royal command..."

"One month after dat, de fust baby was..." Mammaw's chin crumpled. "... stillborn."

Rarity gasped faintly. "I hope you don' nevah see nuthin like dat, cher," Mammaw said. "Dat foal... she come out all wrong. Crumpled little horn,  a pair o' little wings, growin' out all crooked... like somepony tried to make a foal outta clay, couldn't make up dey mind, and threw it away befo' dey finish."

"Den de rest come, seem like one born eb'ry udda day, like a string o' firecrackers. All like that-- not one thing nor de udder..Bent or broken, blind, lame, or wuss. Couple live for a few days; one colt, he live for t'ree years, then summat wen' wrong wid his heart..." A tear rolled down one wrinkled cheek. "We gathered up dat no-account's poison an' destroyed it, but de wickedness was already done. Only two Cottonmouth babies survive. Little colt name o' Twig... 'es as stout as two sticks, But 'e got two bony little batpony wings growin' crooked outta his back---  no webbin' atween the fingers. An' my granddaughter, Mudpuppy."

She added a few drops of liquid from an amber bottle and finished stirring.  "Her momma died givin' birth," Mammaw said. "An' I thought her Pa gon' do the same. Dat, or he gon' run off to find dat Cotton Mouth an' kill him, den maybe kill himself..." she sighed wearily. "But he dint. 'E stay wid us. Two years later a Cragodile get 'im. I tink de only ting he die regrettin' was dat 'e din't find dat son of a snake an' make him pay." She set aside the spoon and banked the fire under the kettle, and left it to simmer.

"She been livin' wid me ever since den. It been hard on her. On little Twig, too. The other ponies... dey not so kind. Not mean or ought... but dey stand offen' away. I tink seein' her an Twig remind dem of de mistake dey made trustin' dat "Pro-fessor;" remind dem of what dey lost." She shrugged. "It's why she covers up dem wings. She don' want ponies to remember she's a.... cripple. It hurts too much."

Rarity's mind raced. No wonder that Mammaw thought her granddaughter was deformed. There was no way of course that this reprehensible Cotton Mouth's elixir had made an alicorn. It was probably the peril to her very life that had forced Mudpuppy to ascend while still in the womb. The poor thing had grown up thinking she was... defective. This was going to be the best news she'd ever given anyone. "Mammaw," Rarity said gently. "Mudpuppy isn't a cripple."

Mammaw snorted. "Gwan," she said scornfully. "Lemme guess, you mean she's 'Handy-capable.' "

Rarity rolled her eyes in amusement. "I mean what I said. She's not a cripple."

"G'wan witcha," Mammaw said irritably. "I ain't total blind. I kin see dat horn and dem wings on 'er. I kin see what she is-- poor half-an-half, neither fish nor fowl..."

"All three in one, actually," Rarity said calmly. "Earth Pony, Pegasus and Unicorn."

"G'wan. Ain't no pony like dat except--" Mammaw's eyes went so round they actually peeked out from between her facial creases.

Rarity chuckled. "Got it in one, Mammaw. She's an alicorn."

Mammaw froze for a moment. "OH PSHAW, G'WAN!" she said. "I'm an old fool, not a TOTAL one! You Big City unicorns got dat horn screwed on too tight!"

Chuckling, Rarity flicked her horn over her sides, using her magic to cut slits down the side of her dress. "Well, it's a good thing I'm not a unicorn, darling, or I might have been offended," Rarity said, smirking. She struck a pose and fanned her white wings out from her sides, flaring them to best effect.

You could have heard a pin drop. Mammaw stared, her jaw hanging slack. "Allow me to properly introduce myself, darling," Rarity said. "I am Princess Rarity, the Alicorn of Generosity. I am on a mission from the crown to find other alicorns like myself. And I know one of my own kind when I see her." she smiled. "Yes. Mudpuppy is an alicorn."

Mammaw stammered. "But... her wings. Her magic...?"

"She's still young," Rarity laughed. "I can scarcely fly myself, and I'm full grown. And as to her magic-- I saw her use it. She is extraordinarily strong. I suspect that what is holding her back is that she's never been properly taught... and she's trying to channel the three different kinds of magic the wrong way." She tapped her own horn. "Such as trying to push her Earth Pony magic out through her horn?"

"Mudpuppy isn't sick. She isn't deformed. She is a perfectly normal, perfectly healthy alicorn filly. And she has a wondrous future ahead of her."

The dam broke. Tears rolled out of the old pony's dimmed eyes; she staggered forward and caught Rarity in a shockingly fierce embrace. For a brief moment no words were said.

There was a hissing from the fireplace. Mammaw squawked and broke the embrace, scuttling over to the overboiling kettle. "Oh dear, is it spoiled?" Rarity said anxiously.

"Naw, naw," Mammaw said, snuffing the fire. "It be done, atchally." She stirred the potion. "Fetch that tray of bottles over yonder." The two of them worked in silence for the next few minutes, ladling the Silphium potion into glass bottles and corking them. But Mammaw's entire bearing had changed. She still fussed and puttered like an old mare, but there was a barely-smothered aura of joy around her as she worked.

"Shall we call in Mudpuppy and tell her now?" Rarity suggested, deftly corking the vials with her magic.

Mammaw's lower lip trembled, this time with joy. "In a minute," she said. "I... I need to let dis soak in."

Rarity smiled and corked another bottle. "It can wait a moment."

Next Chapter: Chapter 25 Estimated time remaining: 3 Hours, 13 Minutes