There was just something about Sweet Apple Acres.
It was especially beautiful today, in a haunting way. A fog had rolled into Ponyville this morning; neither too thick nor too thin, it rested gently but surely over the dozens of apple trees that flooded my vision, moving in soft wisps with every passing moment. I had always appreciated the beauty of the Apple family's orchard, but this breathtaking tableau almost made me feel I was seeing it for the first time.
I felt like a trespasser, that I shouldn’t have been there--but that didn't matter. None of the Apples would find me (they hadn't yet), and if they did, they wouldn't have cared. They'd probably ask where my mother was, and what I was doing all the way out in the hills like this.
Mom.
I was going to graduate from Ponyville High School in a week and head off to Manehatten University. Mom told me she could have gotten me into Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns if I really wanted to go, but I really didn't. I wouldn't have fit in there, and every single pony that walked down those hallways would know that the only way an earth pony could get into a school for unicorns was through a connection, and it would take them all but three seconds to establish what that connection was.
I shared her name. I took on her legacy.
Did I?
I'd first discovered this place on my way back from a walk in the Whitetail Woods a few months ago. I'd gone left when I should have gone right, and could only watch as the trees slowly changed and the apples began to reveal themselves one by one. I was worried at first about getting lost, but that worry quickly turned to wonder as I truly began to observe the scenery around me.
I must have walked around the farm for hours. There were a few animals I saw scamper past me, likely only used to the workers passing by. It was Fall then, so the leaves that had turned a pleasant yellow were strewn about haplessly in the fields. I sat down, I watched the sky, and I got lost until I eventually made my way back to the barns. The Apples were happy to have me over for lunch, but they had no idea I'd taken a self-guided tour of their organic machine for the past few hours.
And so, whenever I needed a place, I went to this one. I didn't come very often--this might have been only my fourth or fifth time--and as far as I knew, nopony else knew of the spot. Usually, I came here to clear my mind and enjoy the weather if it was a particularly nice morning, but that was because I wanted to be there.
Right now, I needed a place. And so here I was.
I was currently leaned up on one of the trees, staring out into the little clouds that had descended on the apple field. My coat had gotten a bit dirty from sitting at the tree's base, but that didn't matter to me at the moment: nothing really mattered at the moment, except that I use what time I had here, in my own little place, to calm myself down.
I couldn't. My place was failing me. I was fighting hard to suppress tears, screams--a battle I knew I was soon to lose. I wanted to yell, I wanted to cry, I wanted to do nothing at all.
I don’t know how long I was there before I heard it: careless hooves breaking branches, an unmistakable voice breaking through the idyll.
"There you are. I've been looking all over this damn place for you, you know that?"
Prism Bolt--for all intents and purposes, my best friend.
I had few friends. The children of the Elements were lucky enough to share the bond our parents had, but I hadn’t clicked with any of them like I had with Prism Bolt. She was the closest to my age, sure, but it went deeper than that: while I was by far quieter and more reserved than my mother, Prism was every inch the child of her cocky, outgoing parents, and in one of those bizarre turns of pony psychology, the contrast actually brought us closer together.
"How did you find me?" I asked, disbelievingly. Couldn’t she tell I wanted to be alone? She just chuckled, nodding her head back in the direction of the main barns.
"Jona told on you a while ago. He said he saw you sitting out here while he was checking the trees, but decided not to say anything. Your mother sent me out to look for you, and so I knew where to go immediately."
"Damn him," I said simply, but I couldn't help but smile a tinge as I said it. Jonagold Apple didn't fall far from the tree, as the saying went--couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.
We were quiet for a bit. I could tell Prism was taking in the scenery as she looked around, carefully analyzing every bit of landscape, but she eventually broke the silence with a simple question.
"Why here?"
Good--easy question first. I quickly dug my hoof into the dirt and brought it out fast, letting it course down my leg like a waterfall.
"You know about earth pony magic, right?" I asked her.
She nodded. "You guys are a bit stronger than everypony else, right?"
I returned the nod, but decided to explain anyway; she’d only painted a bit of the picture. "Traditionally, yes, but even more so, we have this . . . weird connection to nature. There's some sort of magic in us that allows us to cultivate crops and grow them better, and our relationship with animals is a bit different than the way unicorns and pegasi experience it. That isn't to say that the other types of ponies can't be farmers or veterinarians, obviously, but we're just . . . better at it, I guess? It's why the Apple family is so good at what they do, and why you very rarely see a worker out here that isn't an earth pony."
I could tell Prism appreciated my explanation, but I also knew I hadn’t answered her question.
"I feel really comfortable around nature. I stumbled on this place by accident, and . . . I don't know, if I'm feeling really stressed or nervous, going here kinda settles me down. Something about the soil and the trees and the grass is just a tranquilizer."
Again, there was silence. We'd learned a little bit about earth pony magic in school, but you really had to be one (or an alicorn, I guess) to understand and explain what it was like. If I didn't have such a connection to nature, I'd probably opt to stay indoors--much like my mother did before she moved to Ponyville. After a bit, Prism spoke up again, a hint of concern in her voice.
"So why are you here then?" she began. "Something's wrong. Tell me."
I sighed loudly. I wanted to bury my head in my hooves and make her go away, but the logical side of me knew that her sudden appearance was more of a blessing than I was willing to admit.
"I'm kinda freaking out." My voice cracked; try as I might, it looked like the floodgates weren’t going to hold. She didn’t immediately respond, so I pressed on, trying to beat the tears out.
"I was walking in Ponyville Market to get some things for the castle and it hit me. I started thinking about graduation, and Manehatten, and my parents, and I just started shaking. It felt like everything was collapsing, and the worst part was that I knew exactly why but I couldn't do anything about it. So . . . so I ran here to calm myself down."
Prism leaned back a bit on the tree, one hoof carefully plucking up an apple that had fallen among the roots. She brushed it off on her coat before biting into it, her eyes rolling back in her head in bliss.
"I'm never prepared for how amazing these are," she sighed. I laughed again, and though I knew she was just trying to lift my spirits with every passing quip, I was glad it was working.
"You still haven't answered my question, Twilight," she said, slyly. The laughter died on my lips, and I could feel the tears come flooding back. Thankfully, Prism elected to ignore them as I gave her my reply.
"I'm thinking about Mom," I said simply.
"Aunt Twilight? What about her?"
I shrugged, noncommittally, but the words spilled out of me regardless. "Mom, the family, my namesake, all of it. My mom is awesome, Prism. She's saved the world on numerous occasions, beat Nightmare Moon, Tirek, Discord, Chrysalis, the Storm King, Sombra, and probably a few more I'm missing. She's ascended to Princesshood, she's an Element of Harmony, she runs the School of Friendship, and she's constantly passing legislature to make Equestria a better place." Prism nodded seemingly absentmindedly, but I knew better than to think she wasn’t cooking up a response.
"And on top of all that, she and Dad can devote the time and be so supportive and great as I'm growing up. And my other namesake has done a lot of that too, and my uncle is a diarch of the Crystal Empire and Celestia and Luna are practically my damn aunts too at this point."
"It is an impressive family lineage," Prism conceded, chuckling.
I was far from amused. "Yeah, it is, and that's the problem. What in Tartarus am I gonna do? I'm not gonna save the world or lead our ponies, not to mention the fact that I'm the first earth pony in our line, so I can't even study magic or go to CSGU like all the rest of them did. Everypony around me is so amazing, and they do all these things, and I'm gonna be . . . ordinary. I can't live up to my mother."
Prism didn’t answer right away; instead, she just stared out into the fog hanging over the orchard. Her eyes were attentive, flickering rapidly as if searching for something in the mist. I watched her carefully, running my own words back and forth in my head.
"You're right," she said, eventually.
“W-what?”
I blanched, but Prism looked at me seriously.
"You're right," she repeated. "We can't live up to our mothers' legacies. The things the Elements of Harmony accomplished in a matter of years are more than a pony usually sees in seven lifetimes. Your mother ascended to princesshood; my mom fought alongside her as the Element of Loyalty and then flew in Equestria's premier flight squad on top of it all. My brother and I aren't ever going to save the world ten-fold like she did, and it seems like every damn pony in your family tree rules over something. How are we gonna do any of that?"
I was at a complete loss for words. It was as though Prism had loaded every one of my fears and doubts into a cannon and fired it right between my eyes. Thankfully, Prism seemed to notice my distress, and quickly pressed on.
"What color is your coat?" she asked.
I was so flummoxed I had to actually look down at myself before answering. "Uhh, it's k-kinda a muted neon lime--?" Prism waved a hoof dismissively, unable to hold back a snort of smirky derision. "Not that specific, Twi. Who do you share it with?"
"My dad," I answered softly. The answer was obvious, but I had a feeling that had been what she was going for. My coat was entirely identical to my father's--uncommon amongst ponies, but not unheard of.
"Yeah, you do," she said, nodding as she sat a little more comfortably against the tree. "What about your mane and tail?"
I narrowed my eyes, the smallest hint of frustration trying its best to crawl out."What's the point? You know all this."
"Humor me," she snapped, probably a little more aggressive than she intended. I didn't say anything, instead looking up to observe the only sliver of hair I could see.
"My mom," I said simply. It was mostly true. The colors were inverted, sure, and I preferred to wear my mane long and natural as opposed to neatly trimmed, but all the important parts were there.
"That's right," Prism said. "You have your dad's coat and your mom's mane and tail. So do I, funnily enough."
She sat up, gesturing at me with a hoof. "You have traces of your mom and shades of your dad," she began, "just like any of us do. You like to read and study, just like she does, and you know more about magic than maybe any unicorn I think I've ever met. You're also an earth pony, like your dad, and you also picked up his diffidence. I could go on and on and on, but the point is, you're the product of the little details sprinkled in by your parents. And what does that make you?"
"Twilight Glimmer," I recited. Hearing your own name was always strange: it came to define you, but it was used far more by other ponies than it was ever used by yourself.
"Twilight Glimmer," she repeated, a warm glow washing over her face. "Architect extraordinaire. High school Salutatorian. My best friend."
If the sentiment wasn't so nice, I'd probably have shoved her. Our senior-year Val/Sal race was somewhat legendary, and Prism had beaten me out for Valedictorian even while taking a more rigorous course schedule than I was. It was running joke that she tried to fit it into any conversation we were having, especially when my mom was around.
I rolled my eyes instead, and I let Prism wallow in her own pride for a few seconds longer before she continued.
"You're not ordinary, Twilight," she began. "I still like to look at your drawings, because even though I don't know what any of it means, it's still amazing how you can bring things to life on paper. You helped design the new city commission building downtown as a senior in high school. You're doing such great things, Twi, I can't even begin to tell you how proud I am. I know your mom feels the same way; it’s not like she ever shuts up about you."
I could feel myself turning red. I looked to the ground as I tried to formulate a response, but it came out far too quiet to be dignified.
"That hasn't been approved by the city planning department yet," I mumbled. It was a feeble defense, but thankfully, I had a better one locked and loaded.
"Well, what about you?" I asked. "Your mother and father were both Wonderbolts, and Aunt Rainbow is the Element of Loyalty and a whole bunch of other crazy stuff, and you're going to be a surgeon. Does that not bother you? Don't you ever think you should be doing more?" I hadn't meant it to come sounding like quite so much of a put-down, but Prism didn’t seem to take any offense.
"Not one bit," she said, shaking her head vehemently. "Your mom is a tinge more important than mine, so it's a little bit different, but there was only one thing I've ever had on my mind whenever I thought about my mom when I was younger. She dedicated her life to helping other ponies and making Equestria a better place, entertaining them with her stunts as a Wonderbolt and protecting them by kicking dragons in the face." I couldn't help but chuckle a bit at that one, and she cracked a smile at her own wit before continuing.
"I wanted to do that, too, and when this cutie mark appeared, I knew I'd found my way." Prism looked down to her flank, and we both took a moment to appreciate what I was absolutely certain had to be the world's coolest cutie mark: her mother's multi-colored lightning bolt, coiled by two blue snakes.
"Sure, I wasn't gonna run around the world and solve friendship problems or stave off Equestria's next hyper-dimensional super threat," she began, "but I'm helping ponies all the same. And you are, too."
I'd been staring at the ground again, and when I looked into her eyes, I saw a fiery spark of determination. Prism has always been as charismatic as her mother, but despite her commanding presence, I still had a simple question.
"How?"
It was almost pleading, really, and it was the thing I'd truly been asking myself whilst wallowing in my own insecurities under this apple tree. My mother had contributed so much to the benefit of Equestria, even outside of defeating its threats, and I was going to design buildings for a living. I almost felt cheated: I loved my work very, very much, but it had seemed that destiny decided that, unlike my mother, I wasn't going to bring the same joy and aid to the world around me that she did.
Well, I thought so, at least. Until Prism spoke again.
"Twilight, I'd be nothing without you," she began. I opened my mouth to protest almost immediately, but she powered through my objection easily.
"You're so incredibly smart and you know a ton about magic and you're an incredibly gifted artist, but most importantly, you're kind and caring far more than any of us deserve. If I'm ever in trouble or really going through it, I know I can always lean on you, because it's who you are. And above everything else, you're an artist, and the art you're going to give to Equestria is going to make so many ponies happy for so many different reasons. If you take anything from what I'm saying, take this." I stared at her intently as she rested a hoof on my shoulder, locking eyes with me intently.
"We may not save the world, Twilight Glimmer, but we're damn sure gonna change it." Her fiery expression softened a bit as she put her other hoof on her chest, a soft grin slowly bleeding on to her countenance.
"You've changed me, ya know," Prism said. “I've applied myself more in school, I've come to appreciate the world around me, but most importantly, you taught me what it means to be a great friend."
Celestia, how things could change with a few words.
The fog had been slowly clearing out around us over the course of our conversation, but with Prism’s ardent declaration it seemed to have taken flight. Sweet Apple Acres was now as it always was: a sea of trees swaying gently in the breeze, eventually to be disturbed and picked clean until they bore their fruit again.
Just like that.
Prism was certainly the orator her mother was, but this was obviously something she truly meant. And, of course, she was right: all of us were going to follow our destinies, and they didn’t have to the same as our parents’ for them to have meaning.
I didn't know what else to do, so I scooted over quickly and locked her in a hug.
I wasn't a hugger. I very rarely ever hugged my parents, much less somepony outside of my family, and so I could almost feel Prism's body tense up when I wrapped myself around her. It loosened up quick enough, though, and I could feel her return it as the soft tears from my eyes dripped slowly down to my own coat.
"Thank you," I whispered. Prism opted to say nothing, instead letting the embrace hold for what seemed like an eternity.
I didn't mind it.
Eventually, we unraveled, and my eyes flitted to the ground in embarrassment before I broke the silence.
"Thank you," I repeated. "I . . . I feel a lot better now. I'm sure we're gonna kill it in Manehatten." The sly grin Prism was so notorious for returned with a vengeance as she leaned back on the tree trunk and closed her eyes, kicking out her hind legs in a stretch.
"I know we're gonna kill it. City won't know what hit it." I chuckled a bit at her enthusiasm, but as I saw her so relaxed under the tree's branches, an idea quickly came to my head.
"You're right, of course," I started. "But I think there's one more thing I gotta do." Prism immediately rose from her slouched position and looked towards me, her eyebrows raised in slight concern.
"What's up? Is everything okay?" she asked.
I gave off a little chuckle before quickly getting up on all fours. In one swift motion, I gave the tree behind us the strongest buck I could muster, and it shook with a single violent motion as the tree's apples began to rain from its branches. Prism, who had already been moved and disoriented from the tree's motion, found herself immediately swarmed with the fruit as it piled on top of her.
"HEY!" she snapped, parting the sea of apples in front of her. I ignored her, picked one up, and took a bite, savoring the flavor for as long as I could. Prism, as always, was right: there was never anything that could prepare you for just how delectable an apple from Sweet Apple Acres is.
"Couldn't dodge that, first in class?" I asked her, the sarcasm dripping from my voice. I expected retaliation but didn't get any: Prism's angry demeanor quickly vanished as she burst into a fit of laughter. It proved infectious, and it wasn't before long that we were both doubled over. It lasted for what seemed like hours, and I could slowly feel the little remains of weight lift off my shoulders while we were just being ourselves.
Ourselves.
When it finally died, Prism slowly got up, flapping her wings dramatically to stretch them. She turned to me, working the kinks out of her neck and nodding towards the sunlit orchard below.
"Well, we're here. You wanna go see if Jona's working so we can bother him?" I'd had an overload of laughter from the past few minutes, and so I merely smiled warmly at the joke. I got up with her, letting the cool temperature run across my body, and took a deep breath of the fresh air I'd coveted for so long.
"Yeah," I told her, neglecting to turn and face her. "I'd like that."