It was one of those days where the average cold went around, making everyone’s life a tad bit inconvenient. It was a season of tissue boxes, loud sneezes, and runny noses. The result was lowered productivity, less concentration, and, overall, a slower pace of life in an average city.
For some ponies, however, the cold was no mere annoyance. It was a hindrance, a barrier, an impediment determined to destroy their way of life.
Applejack was one of those ponies.
During the first few days of her sickness, she was able to work through the cold. Sure, it took more effort to buck each tree—a lot more, actually, since bucking was a rather new skill to her—but it was manageable. Apples still fell to the baskets, food was still cooked on the frying pan, and work was still done in the farm.
Then, the cold worsened. A throbbing fever overcame her head, her strength was drained out of nowhere, and the once tolerable sneezes happened every five minutes.
Needless to say, it took a lot of convincing to get the stubborn pony some bed rest.
On a Saturday morning, Applejack still felt awful, hot pain searing her nerves. She was lying on her bed, yearning to work on the farm and be a helpful member in the family today.
Except she couldn’t.
Getting out of bed wasn’t an option. It was too tiring and the blanket beckoned her to sleep some more, to return to the abyss of unconsciousness.
Despite these obstacles, she was stubborn, so Applejack decided to open the curtains by the bed window.
Bad idea.
Blinding sunlight attacked her.
She closed the curtains, but it was too late. Her eyes were washed with a second serving of strain. Her brain was aching in agony. Even just lifting her head a few inches felt like lifting barbells too heavy.
Hooves on her pillow, she turned it up and covered her face with it, hiding in the darkness to heal her eyes.
Knock! Knock!
The thought of getting up made her wince. She cried out in a battered voice, “Ugh! Who is it?!”
“It’s me, Applejack,” was the regal-sounding answer.
Applejack gasped. “Principal Celestia?!”
A pause. “Yes. May I come in? The door’s not locked.”
She groaned for not protecting herself, then lifted the pillow from her head. “Come in.”
The dining room was rustic. A round table and a few chairs, all made of wood. The counters and the fridge were yellow and white, giving off a bright feeling of inspiration.
Principal Celestia and Applejack sat at the table, helping themselves to a big bowl of fragrant salad with dressing and butter. Through the window came a little ray of sunshine, lighting up their food and the farmpony’s glass of water.
Celestia’s flowing mane and her brilliant crown glittered under the sun’s light while she levitated a fork to a lettuce leaf. She stabbed and ate it, her horn and fork still glowing yellow.
Applejack looked at her funny. In a loud enough mumble, “Why’re you here?”
The principal floated the fork back down. “Just checking on you, that’s all. I’ve decided to spend the the morning and the afternoon with various other sick ponies.”
“Don’t you have yer’ governin’ to do?” she asked.
The royal pony chuckled, then gave way to a forlorn sigh. “I’m taking a little break since it’s not that easy. Before, I’ve known next to nothing about world politics. I only knew a little more than the average person did. Now, everyone wants to please the so-called Princess of the Sun and her lunar sister because they think they’ll get burned if they don’t.”
Applejack gave her a squint.
Celestia raised a hoof, on the defensive. “N-No! I don’t want to burn anyone! It’s just...” sighed, “controlling outer space is quite the big stick in diplomacy.”
Applejack was able to let out a chuckle of her own. “Kinda’ easy to get what ya’ want when you can wave the sun around.”
Celestia frowned. “Don’t forget that there are sinister temptations when you wield so much power and influence.”
Then, the principal looked out the window and pushed the curtains aside with her magic.
She saw Big McIntosh collecting several bushels of apples while the family’s three horses-turned-ponies were counting them—namely Cookie the Earth pony, Oakley the pegasus, and Cinnamon the unicorn. They threw the good ones into a basket labeled “Good” while they threw the bad ones into a trash can.
“Do you know Nightmare Moon, Applejack?”
The pony in question raised a brow, the inquiry taking her by surprise. “Name’s familiar, but I don’t know what it is.”
Celestia sighed, her mind turning to other-worldly history. “Over a thousand years ago in Equestria, Princess Luna grew jealous of my other self since ponies frolicked in the day but slept in the night.” She paused to get her mental bearings. “Luna became so jealous, she became an evil monster named ‘Nightmare Moon’ who wanted to bring about eternal night.”
Applejack glanced at her plate then at the principal. “But she was saved, right?”
“Only after a thousand years,” Celestia said, looking down at her salad and away from her beautiful day outside. She floated a fork, stabbed another leaf, but let it drop back to the plate with a clink! “When I talked with Princess Celestia about my duties, she confided that it was one thousand lonely years without her sister.”
Applejack leaned closer, ears bending a bit to hear better.
“Early on, she did have friends and many others who were quite nice to be with, but then they died off. She had the children of her friends to hang out with, but then they died off. Then, she had the children of the children of her friends, but they died off, too.”
Applejack tilted her head, seeing Celestia hang hers. “Celestia, are you alright?”
The principal closed her eyes, hiding a would-be tear. “Not completely, now that I think about it.”
Out of modesty, the farmpony looked away from her. “Because you’ll be outlivin’ all o’ us except for Luna?”
She made a little chuckle, one marred with self-scorn. “Harrowing, isn’t it?—the thought of living forever or at least for thousands of years.” Raised her head to see Big Mac and the other ponies still working with the apples. “And what if Luna doesn’t make it with me?”
Applejack turned her head towards Celestia, though still focused on her salad. “Isn’t she an immortal princess like you?”
Celestia nodded. “But, if their Luna could turn into Nightmare Moon, our Luna certainly can.”
Applejack gasped, her hat almost falling off her mane. “She’s a nice pony! She’s strict and may be speakin’ old fancy languages, but why would she ever get jealous o’ you?”
A sigh drifted from Celestia’s mouth, sorrowful. “You’ve seen how magic corrupted too many of your friends. Sunset, Twilight, Gloriosa...the list goes on.”
After adjusting her hat, Applejack finally looked at Celestia again. “So, yer’ sayin’ that Luna’s vuln’rable, too?”
“All of us are vulnerable.”
Celestia pushed her plate away with her hoof adorned with a majestic golden horseshoe.
“Maybe not so much since being a pony means that we can handle magic properly,” she went on, “but I’ve heard stories of good individuals warped due to dark magic.”
Applejack looked down on her food, thinking about what would happen if she got warped and corrupted. A creature who’d make apple trees out of nowhere? A monster who’d tear down all the factories in the country to give way to an agriculture revolution? A tyrant who’d rule the world under the nepotism of the Apple family while banning every fruit that was not her namesake?
A better farmpony?
Applejack noticed Celestia drifting off, her mane’s flow decreasing. Wanting to change the topic to something more light-hearted, she asked, “So, what do ya’ have planned tonight?”
Celestia smiled, having hoped for such a change. “A few negotiations with King Thorax of the Cambling Nation. His official reasons are to see what other trade agreements we could land on, though I have a feeling he’s still scared of me.”
Applejack giggled, putting aside the gravity of being burned by the sun as punishment.
Then, she looked out at the window, the ponies outside still working with apples, her brother now laughing with his former horses as they took a ten-second break.
Closed her eyes then—
Ah-choo!
Celestia levitated her plate out of germs’ way.
Applejack was rubbing her snout with her hoof. “Why, I almost forgot I was sick for a while!”
Celestia maintained her small smile, then opened her mouth at a swift thought. “Actually, Wallflower and Rose are having the grand opening of their herbs and potions shop this evening. However, I could accompany you there right now. Perhaps you could try a remedy or two before the debut.”
“Woah, there!” Applejack raised both forehooves. “I know you wan’ me to get better an’ such, but I’m not tryin’ those potion thingies!”
“Why not?” asked the principal in a curious tone.
“They’re not natural!” Pointing a hoof at her, “An’ before you say they got it from plants, I just don’t like the idea of puttin’ magic stuff inside yer’ stomach.”
Celestia nodded. “Understandable. However, you’ll end up trying a magic potion sooner or later, what with...well, who we are now.”
Applejack looked at Celestia again, wrapping her mind around talking to her principal who was now an alicorn that determined when the day would begin.
She grinned at the whimsical situation she was in. “Huh-huh!”
Celestia floated a glass of water to herself, then drank some until it was half-full. She put it down, then turned to the farmpony. “I respect your decision, so I won’t force you to come…but I’ll send you a sample—“ winked at her, smiling “—in case you change your mind.”
With that, she pulled the plate back to herself with her hoof.
Both of them ate in peaceful quiet as the work outside continued. Big Mac hauled in yet another batch of ap—
Crash!
And a pegasus landed on a platoon of bushels in front of the garage, causing all of them to fall over and spill tons of apples to the grass and concrete.
Cookie cried out, “No! All my hard work!” She went to her hind knees and wept over the destruction of her hooficraft.
Cinnamon groaned as she levitated the dirty apples away, leaving Oakley to help the fallen pegasus up as he hovered over to pull her up.
“Oh, hey!” Oakley retracted his hoof a bit, happily shocked at who the pegasus was. “Fleetfoot? Didn’t expect you to come down here!”
Cinnamon and Cookie looked her way. “Fleetfoot?!”
When Big Mac recognized who the suspect was, he blushed.
Celestia glowed the curtains yellow and closed them. “Well, it was fun having some light breakfast you, but I’m afraid I must be going now.”
The farmpony and the principal waved each other goodbye before the latter left the house.
Back in the principal’s office, Celestia waded through the stacks of paper on her desk. These contained reams of information sent from the country’s president—or, well, ex-president, since he had stepped down within days of realizing that two high school administrators had more power than he did.
He had been kind enough to order his staff to help the principals out with keeping the world afloat, so there’s that.
As Celestia pored through papers on Cambling with its changeling king over its largely changeling population, she sighed. Making sure the globe didn’t implode was no easy task, after all.
Then, her eyes caught sight of the calendar hanging on the wall.
With its days, its months, its years.
Could she buy a thousand calendars ahead of time?
She continued reading up on the changeling king, though not without a tear staining the words.