She hadn’t intended to cause a stir simply by coming into town; but, well, she supposed that ‘mysterious princess who hadn’t been seen for centuries’ might draw some attention, once she thought about it. She just didn’t expect … this.
“Who’s that?”
“She’s huge!”
“I’ve never seen a winged unicorn before! Do you think she’s foreign? Should - should we be concerned? Or is this Nightmare Moon?”
“Daddy, you know how the legend goes! Nightmare Moon only appears on Nightmare Night!”
“She isn’t supposed to appear at all!”
Twilight Sparkle turned sharply to look at the small crowd, and they rapidly dispersed, too nervous to make direct contact with the alicorn they’d just been whispering about. She folded her wings tight against her body, and returned to her consideration of Sugarcube Corner.
It looked much the same as it had centuries ago; but it was wrong, too. The paint was off, just by a shade or two, and in places it was clear the patterns had been changed. Restoration, done over centuries; keeping the spirit alive, but each time it had to be repaired, it changed by microns. Too subtle for anyone to notice, unless they had been there to see it when it was new. The town had grown around it as well; what had once been a very modern, appealing little cafe now looked … antiquated. She could have gone at length about how the shape and size of the windows of neighboring buildings illustrated a growing knowledge of glassblowing and building techniques, and how the change in architecture meant improved airflow for the occupants within, and due to structural changes suggested by Greebleknee Green (as set down in his text Architecture For All and its sequel Airflow Isn’t Only For Pegasi) more ponies now had freer access to safer building techniques and materials -
“Princess - I mean, Princess Twilight Sparkle!”
Twilight didn’t quite realize how quickly an entire crowd could drop to their knees.
“Princess Twilight Sparkle, we didn’t know you were coming into town today!” The mare speaking directly in front of her, the one who had just come out of the bakery; that was someone she recognized.
“Appledust!” Twilight gasped, and the group gasped as well; she hadn’t realized just how enthusiastic she sounded. “I mean, hello, Miss Appledust. You’re my - royal pastry chef, aren’t you?”
“Yes ma’am! Your Majesty! How - how gracious of you to remember!” She was clearly nervous about being recognized, and Twilight wondered who would ever be nervous of her? But the memory of Princess Celestia’s first arrival in Ponyville arose, unbidden, and she found herself overwhelmed with sympathy.
“Oh it’s nothing, really. We met today in the kitchen.” Twilight found herself reverting to her more nervous mannerisms, but when she looked to her left, she didn’t find Applejack or Spike to direct her aside to; she found a worried-looking green stallion who nodded much too quickly. “Um - what are you doing in Ponyville? Too?”
Appledust was still eyeing Twilight Sparkle with the way she had once eyed a Princess; awed, a little frightened, afraid to misspeak. “I … I wanted to fetch some of the historic treats for you, ma’am. I thought … it might please you, to taste something from your days in Ponyville.”
“Well - that would be lovely, actually! They still make those?” Twilight Sparkle had perked up considerably, and she took a step towards Appledust, now eyeing the box she carried. “I remember when Pinkie first started in this shop - it used to be owned by Mr. and Mrs. Cake, you know. She lived upstairs -”
“- In the space over the bakery, yes! It’s all explained in the plaque!” Appledust agreed readily, and nodded to the little metal plaque that had been mounted near the entryway to the shop.
“Huh. Pinkie would have gotten a good laugh out of that.” Twilight Sparkle admitted, chuckling as she glanced over the plaque. A plaque! Of all things, such a fussy and academic item seemed so out of place for someone as spirited as Pinkie. She probably would have built a balloon arch instead, perhaps with an artistic rendering of herself made of balloons.
“Would you like one, Your Majesty?” Appledust curtsied, and held a cupcake aloft in her hoof towards the princess.
“Oh, you don’t have to do all that - but - sure, thank you!” Twilight Sparkle eagerly took the pastry from her hoof, gulped down half of it in her first bite - and had to fight the urge to spit it back out. “Oh, it’s … it’s so good.” Twilight lied, and forced the cupcake down her throat, coughing heavily once it landed.
Appledust wasn’t as easily fooled as some ponies, and she affixed Twilight Sparkle with a small squint. “Is everything alright, Your Majesty?”
“It's … not how I remember.” Twilight Sparkle said carefully, and offered her a warm smile. “But change is - is good! I’ll just save the rest for later.”
“Well, I know they had to change the recipe once the original strain of apples they used went extinct -”
“Extinct?!”
“An apple blight, around a hundred years ago. I’ve - I’ve been researching historical cooking practices.” It was Appledust’s turn to look a little embarrassed, and she fussed with the box in her front hooves, closing it up extra-securely. “I’m sure it tastes different to someone who was there before it - Your Majesty!”
But her call was for naught; Princess Twilight Sparkle had already taken to the air, and flown to the top of Sugarcube Corner.
They had painted over the window Twilight used to fly in through - probably not ergonomic enough, not good for the airflow - but Twilight kicked it open with one mighty princess hoof, and alofted lightly in what had once been Pinkie Pie’s bedroom.
It didn’t look right; but none of Sugarcube did, not really. It was a dry academic’s idea of what Pinkie Pie’s living quarters might have looked like, hundreds of years ago. There was no fresh splatter of frosting from a cupcake mishap; there was no pile of deflated balloons waiting to be blown up for the latest party. Her bed was made neatly; the blankets were the right color, but they weren’t disheveled in the least. She had an armoire that had never existed; they didn’t know that Pinkie liked to keep her belongings out on the floor ‘so they could get some air and stay fresh!’
It broke her heart when she realized that Pinkie’s beloved Gummy was nowhere here; nor were any of his toys, or his bed. Perhaps Pinkie had gotten rid of them when Gummy died during her lifetime, but it had been a part of her room for so long, it didn’t make sense not to have him there. If this was the story of her life, how could they have forgotten that?
What about the rocks? She’d had a collection, the last time she’d been here; beloved treasures from her sisters, from the farm! Were they thrown away, thinking they weren’t ‘in tune’ with her persona as a silly party pony? Perhaps thinking they were mistakes, thrown in by careless foals? Where had they gone? Lost, erased, like Pinkie Pie had never existed at all? Instead they had some image of a silly pink pony who thought only of parties until the day she died, who never felt uncertain, or angry, or sad? Did they remember the Pinkie Pie who had been so sad thinking that her friends had forgotten about her, that she had created a friend out of - who had it been - Madame Le Flour? The memory brought a sudden laugh to Twilight’s lips, which almost as quickly turned into a sharp sob.
What was happening to her?
“Princess?”
And just like that, Princess Twilight Sparkle vanished in a flutter of powerful wings. Gone out the same window she’d come in, leaving a confused Appledust standing in her wake, wondering just what kind of strange events she was witnessing.
***
The Princess thing had to stop, that was for certain. She couldn’t go through Ponyville with everyone bowing and scraping for her at every turn.
Centuries of book learning had prepared her for this, and the Illusion Spell rolled off of her lips before she even had to think about it. Soon, instead of an imposing alicorn Princess, she stood as she had always seen herself - a small, bookish unicorn, of a middling sort of purple color. She didn’t even have her wings; she hadn’t had those, when she’d first come to Ponyville. She looked down at herself in the pond she’d found in the center of the Everfree Forest, and heaved a sigh of relief. For the first time in a long time, she felt like herself again.
The Everfree Forest wasn’t a quick walk to anywhere, but it was secluded, and she encountered no other ponies on her trip over to Applejack’s farm. The rolling orchards of apples had certainly grown since Twilight Sparkle had been here last; but then, over her lifetime Applejack had seen to the growth and prosperity of the farm. Still, even comparing it to the last memory she had of the farm, this was … big. She inhaled deeply, and she thought she could almost smell the new strain of apples in the sweet scent of their blossoms wafting on a warm breeze.
“‘Scuse me, ma’am!” The voice behind her was bright and high; she was surprised when she turned to see not Big Mac, but a mare almost as large, but of such a violently pink hue that she might have thought it one of Pinkie Pie’s descendants.
“My apologies!” Twilight Sparkle called back, and stepped out of the path of her cart. “Excuse me, but do you know where the Apple Family farm is? I seem to have lost my way, with all of the orchards.”
“A course! Hop on!” The mare paused just long enough for Twilight Sparkle to heave herself onto the cart (with a little help of her invisible wings, of course), and took off at a gallop. The scenery whizzed by very rapidly, and Twilight Sparkle was pleased to note that alongside orchards of apples now grew orchards of pears.
Twilight Sparkle once more found herself confused, however, when they came to a halt in front of a massive barn - or a barn shaped house, she supposed. But it wasn’t the barn shape house she expected, but rather something that almost looked like a hotel. It was massive! Windows everywhere, as if it had dozens of rooms for - oh.
She slid off of the wagon, and came face to face with - well, they had to be the Apple Family, didn’t they? But what once had been a family of Applejack, Granny Smith, Apple Bloom and Big Mac, was now dozens strong. A handful were bent over in the fields, pulling weeds from the latest crop (rutabagas, if Twilight had to guess), and another passel were in the nearest orchard, bucking apples. Even more still were clustered around the front of the house, laughing and mashing apples into cider with their hooves, and she could hear more voices from parts unknown. It was a little dizzying; so many apple ponies, but none she recognized, and so many voices that were almost right but not quite the same.
“Hey lady?”
Twilight Sparkle jerked back to reality. “Uh?”
“You’re in the way of my mud pie confection-ury.”
Twilight Sparkle looked down, and followed her shadow to where it loomed over a small filly, a mud hole, and a neat line of mud pies, baking in the sun. “Oh! My apologies. Do you know, uh, or know of Applejack? She might have been your - grandmother?”
The little filly laughed, and went back to working on her mud pies, elbow-deep in her mud hole. “That’s not my grandma! My Grandma is Applemay. I dunno an Applejack. You sure you don’t mean Applejeck?”
“Apple -? No, it’s definitely Applejack.”
“Applejoke my uncle?”
“Applejack.”
“Applejerky, my cousin who makes fruit leather?”
“No. Applejack.”
“Applejalopy?”
“Applejack!”
“Applejoiedevivre?”
“Who?! No! Applejack! She would have been from many years ago!”
The little filly’s eyes widened, and she stared up at Twilight Sparkle in sudden understanding. “You mean great-grandma Applejack? The one who made this farm? The Apple who saved Ponyville?”
“YES! Yes! That Applejack! Your great-grandmother?”
“Well, she’s not my great grandma; she’s more like my great, great, great great great great, great-great, great great great GREAT great great great great -”
“I get it.” Twilight Sparkle cut her off a little suddenly, something tight clutching at her chest. “Listen, do you - do you know if there’s anything -” but Twilight could see some of the ponies in the field lifting their heads now, taking notice of her, and Twilight cut herself off sharply. “You know what? You’ve been such a big help, thank you for all of your information! Best of luck with the mud pies, I’m going to go find - someone I’m here to see!”
“Well I hope it’s not Applejalopy,” the filly said mostly to herself as Twilight skittered away, “that guy’s annoying.”
Twilight Sparkle tried to trot, as subtly as she could, past anyone who might take notice of her. It was tricky, since she was the only non-fruit themed pony there. She found her way to the back of the barn-hotel-house, and stared out at the orchard behind it. From here, she was stuck; this wasn’t how the layout of Applejack’s farm had ever been! Where the new house stood had once been the carrot patch, on the furthest boundary of the farm. But then, she reasoned, even the road must have been reconfigured; as the farm had grown, so had the infrastructure.
She stood for a moment, trying to remember, then closed her eyes. If she was near the furthest edge of the farm, then where was Applejack’s home? Her real home? The one she had spent so many happy days and nights in, celebrating Hearth’s Warming Eve? Birthdays?
Slowly, with her eyes closed, Twilight Sparkle took a few steps forward, and let her memory fill in the gaps. She let her magic spill ahead of her, guiding her away from obstacles, as she slowly remembered the path. Here was the gentle downslope that drove the rain away from the carrot patch so it wouldn’t flood; for a brief, aching moment, Twilight Sparkle wished Applejack was there to bore her with another speech about the farm’s layout, just one more time.
Slowly, silently, she made her way past the old herb garden, the vegetable patch, the well, the chicken hutch. Even as lost in her own memories as she was, she couldn’t deny her other senses; she heard no familiar clucking of chickens, or the sounds of the goats in the barn. She smelled the apple orchards, but even their scent didn’t match her memory. It seemed time had reached even here, in the place that should have changed the least.
Twilight’s memory brought her to the front door of Sweet Apple Acres, to the familiar red barn of Applejack’s home. She could see it in her mind even better with her eyes closed; the familiar homestead where AJ had helped raise Apple Bloom, and how it had changed in later years to host the new addition of the trellis leading up to Rainbow Dash’s home. Pegasus homes were ephemeral by nature, but Applejack had built a spiral staircase into the top floor of her home and a bedroom on a platform, so that they might be able to spend their nights together. The perfect blending of earth pony and pegasus architecture; Twilight was reminded of the many happy days she had spent helping them build it, with the aid of her wings.
Twilight Sparkle opened her eyes to find herself in a graveyard.