ADVENT
A pony sat by its lonesome at a table in the Apple family’s residence, bathed by the flame of a small lantern. The soft scratching of a pencil on paper filled the air. A large sheet, filled with all manners of charts and drawings, lay spread across the tabletop. With a frustrated groan, the pony frantically stroke through a rather lengthy equation. After a moment of analyzing the result, the pony simply took the paper and crushed it with both hooves. The ball of crumpled paper fell to the floor, joining the already large collection there. Then another one. Then one more. Before long, the carpet had been covered in white patches.
A drowsy Applejack drifted out of the shadows of the room, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Her mane, free from its usual bands, flowed down either side of her neck in a disheveled manner. She distractedly looked around, unable to focus on anything in particular.
The Apple family's living room was perhaps one of the most organized, cleanest of Ponyville - or rather, the peripheries of Ponyville. Considering the apple business that the family of Earth ponies owned, this usually came off as a great surprise to their visitors. When you live with a pony like the elder Granny Smith, you tend to abide, by force, to the continuation of that tidiness.
It was therefore not a surprise that the room could reach that state, given the old mare's absence. The guilty one was, much to Applejack's surprise, not Applebloom, but Big Macintosh. Unfortunately for the mare, it wasn’t the first night her brother did this. It was just the last drop.
That engineering program in Manehatten is fryin' his brains, she thought as she watched the red-coated stallion scribble something on the immense manuscript. He skillfully held the pencil in his mouth, jotting down numbers and complicated equations with no numbers at all. Darn fancy mathematics.
"AJ, mind fetchin' mah other projects?" he asked without turning around.
"Ya kiddin' me? Ye've been sittin' on that there pillow for th'past five hours, 'n ye're expectin' me to go'n fetch stuff for ya?"
Macintosh rotated on the seat so he could face his sister. Had it happened at another time of the day, the playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth wouldn’t have bothered Applejack in the least. "Ya sound upset. Somethin' up, sis?"
"Macintosh, take a good look around ya! The whole darn floor is littered with yer papers! The hay are ya writin' that ya gotta keep throwin' it away?"
"A pie dispenser," he answered nonchalantly. Applejack's brow furrowed. She really wasn't in a playful mood, the stallion thought with a sigh. He pushed the pencils and rulers away with a hoof and lifted the large paper up so that she could see its contents. "It’s a magic-powered cider squeezer. Now, Ah know what yer thinkin'," he added as soon as Applejack opened her mouth. His smile wilted. "But AJ, things ain't gettin' any easier 'round here. After t’day, granny’s gonna know if she can lug stuff around’r not. ‘N we both know Applebloom ain't much of a cook, or even an apple-bucker."
"Ah know that,” she sighed, frowning as well. “But she's still young, Macintosh. Give'er some time. Ah didn't start apple-buckin' 'till Ah was older. It ain’t ‘cause we’re one season off that business’ll crash."
The stallion covered his snout with a hoof. They had discussed that subject before, especially after almost losing – or rather, temporarily losing – their farm to the Flim Flam brothers. His sister had never been an apologist of that sort of technology, and the incident didn’t help at all. "Applejack, what's it that ya got 'gainst a helpin' hand?"
"It's the lackluster job them brothers' machines did.”
Here she goes again… Big Mac thought. Always the same excuse.”
“Fat load'a good their machine did! Cost us fifty barrels'a cider we could'a used!" The lack of response from her brother caused Applejack to raise an eyebrow in indignation. "'N ye're one ta talk! What's with yer sudden interest in engineerin'? Ya ain't even good at math!"
"Maybe t’was time Ah learned, then," he simply answered, placing the paper back on the table. "Engineerin' runs in the family, AJ. Ya remember dad'n his stories 'bout his grandpa."
"Yeah, ‘n how he lost his mind over a pile'a fool's gold."
"T'ain't no fool's gold, Applejack."
"Pfft, yeah?” Applejack narrowed her eyes. This she had to hear. “Then why don't'cha tell me where all the money he got from sellin' it went?"
"He...” Big Mac averted her gaze. “He didn't sell it."
Applejack was going to answer, but thought better of it. She clearly recalled the stories their father told them. He used to say that their great-great-grandfather once got a pile of golden stones from a deal with some really weird mare. He hadn't explicitly told them that they had been sold, but given how little use their family could give it, she had always assumed that her ancestor immediately searched for wealth. More than that, the whole deal had always sounded like a complete sham to her since they weren't exactly swimming in money. Not now, not fifty or seventy years ago, not ever. Their financial records didn’t lie.
"Whadda'ya mean, ‘he didn't sell it’?"
As though it was a dangerous piece of information, Big Mac took a precautionary look around and hinted Applejack to come closer. The mare was beginning to find this suspicious, but approached him regardless. The solemn expression that Big Mac bore told her it was definitely no laughing matter.
"Ya can't sell what he got anywhere, Applejack," he spoke in a hushed tone. "Cavalium can't be sold anywhere in Equestria. Nopony'll give ya a bit for it."
“Ya can't?” Applejack gasped. The fact that they could have had a potential criminal in their family just generations ago didn’t please her in the least. Her doubtful stare slowly changed to a concerned one. "But… What'd he do with it then?"
"He stashed it," he promptly answered with a discreet smile, even with some enthusiasm. "Took it all somewhere, and jus' left it there."
"'N ya know this... How?" Applejack asked after a moment of consideration. The stallion's smile grew wider.
"'Cause Ah found it. That..." he gestured at the rest of the papers on the table. Some of them looked worn out, with their yellow, tattered edges. "'N all'a his projects. He was gonna create them with the Cavalium, but died before he could. Like this three-legged thingy here."
Big Mac picked up a roll and unfurled it, revealing the blueprints for some sort of machine that held itself on three supports. There was a small tube on the front of its body, which Applejack best described as a small barrel with a box attached on its side.
"See this?" he continued with the most excitement Applejack had ever seen from him. He was pointing at a horseshoe mark on the machine's side, just next to the head of a large bolt. An arrow pointed straight from it to a pair of horseshoes that were in the blueprint's corner. "Ya fix it by hittin' it with these here horseshoes, kinda like apple-buckin'! They're made'a Cavalium, too!"
Applejack took a moment to digest the information. Hitting something would fix it? That made even less sense than Pinkie. And that was saying a lot. Big Mac’s smile faded with every moment that passed without an answer from his sister. “Ya really dun’ like this kinda doohickey, huh, AJ?”
"Ah dunno... Ah jus’…” The mare rubbed the back of her neck. “Sorry, Ah jus’ dun' really like the look'a that thing... 'n ya havin' that sorta 'illegal' whatsit don't make me any more comfortable."
"It's just a drawing, sis. T'ain't gonna kill nopony." He rolled the paper and turned to place it back on the pile. "'Sides, Ah'm still tryin' to get what it does. 'n it ain't 'illegal'. Grandpa wrote in his notes that he jus' couldn't give it away. T'was too precious to be wasted."
Now that her brother’s back was facing her, Applejack’s frown worsened. Tenacity was definitely a trait they shared. It was impossible to make an Apple give up if they were confident that it would work. She awkwardly shuffled her hooves. “Jus’ dun’ stay up too late, ‘kay, Mac?”
The stallion gave a low grunt of acknowledgement, confirming what Applejack already knew. After a loud yawn, she turned tail and left the room, sleepily uttering, “Good night, big brother.”
Big Mac smiled weakly. He moved away from the sheet. What a beauty, he thought, casting a fond gaze at the product of his work. Applejack could complain all she wanted, but if he was able to build the machine he had designed, then the farm’s productivity would skyrocket. A great breakthrough that could only benefit them.
The observation deck of Canterlot Castle had always been a favorite of Princess Luna's. It wasn't because Equestria was a peer of the telescope away, or because she could issue an order to all of her subordinates (whichever ones were awake at the time).
It was because it was the closest point in Canterlot to the sky, to her stars and her moon. It allowed her to simply stand and admire the work she did every night. Her dedication never faltered; she gave one night the same love she gave the previous, and would give the next, with no exceptions.
Tonight, the balcony served a different purpose, one she’d come to use much more often since her return. It was the only place in the castle where she could be practically alone, without the constant surveillance of the royal guards or the repetitive, trivial questions of her servants. Just her and the moon.
She flexed her majestic, dark blue wings, and breathed a relieved sigh. Nighttime was rather uneventful in the surrounding areas of Canterlot. Perhaps the presence of royalty somehow frightened thieves and criminals.
Her ears twitched at the creaking of her room’s door. She ignored it; it was likely just another servant asking what her breakfast should be the following week.
The light clopping of hooves on the marble floor of her room was carried to her by the light breeze. She closed her eyes out of exasperation. She had clearly stated that she was not to be disturbed, in any way or manner, while she was on the balcony. Perhaps if she didn’t turn, the mare – because it seemed like more than half of the servants in that castle were mares – would go away.
Then they kept getting closer. Luna tried to control her temper, going so far as pawing at the ground with a hoof. Then they stopped right behind her.
She began to turn, ready to give the intruder a lesson. “Did I not make it clear that I do not wish to be disturb- Oh! Dearest sister, whatever are you doing awake?”
“They insisted that the terms of the new agricultural contract were discussed to the most insignificant detail,” Celestia spoke as she walked onto the balcony, stopping by Luna’s side. Her exhaustion was patent in her voice and in her movement. The alicorn of the sun took a deep breath and leisurely exhaled before looking up at the firmament. She couldn’t help smiling. “But enough of that. The stars are beautiful tonight, sister. You never cease to amaze me with your art.”
“I am glad you enjoy it, Celestia,” the other alicorn answered, returning the gesture.
The two stood in silence for some time, simply taking in the beauty of the starry skies above. Celestia truly did appreciate her sister’s work; she had never managed to get the hang of producing constellations. Instead, she reutilized the same one over and over again. Tired of standing on all fours, the older sister sat down, and the other sibling followed suit.
It wasn’t until Luna let out a stifled sigh that Celestia’s eyes tore away. “Is there something wrong, Luna?” she said, embracing her sister with a wing. Still, Luna looked away.
“It is nothing of concern, dear sister. I was simply thinking back to… to the time when our feud took place.” Celestia’s grin began to disappear. “I am afraid that history might repeat itself…”
“It will not,” she promptly answered. Her voice carried a certain sense of warmth that Luna had always found soothing. Celestia gave a weak tug with a wing at her sister. “I did not act rationally at the time, Luna. I was unable to see that you were suffering. To stay in the shadow...” She nudged Luna’s cheek. “I will make sure that it never happens again.”
"Do you... Do you really promise that?"
With another gentle nudge, Celestia pulled her sister closer and whispered, "You have my word."
"'N that's a wrap," the eldest of the Apple siblings muttered, gathering all of the papers up in a single, neat pile. The sight of the blueprints underneath brought a renewed smile to the stallion's face.
Big Mac casually glanced at a nearby window. The very first rays of sunlight shone through it, granting the airborne specs of dust a color and marking the beginning of a new day. He took a deep breath of the fresh, morning air and popped his neck, finding it painfully stiff after hours on end in the same position. But he didn't mind. It had been the first time in a long while that he hadn't slept all night just because he was enjoying himself.
Designing these machines, drawing out all these plans... it filled him with a joy he could only compare to apple-bucking. Once the first few lines were written on the clean, checkered blue paper, he couldn't find the will in him to stop. He had to continue, to see this new project come to fruition.
One by one, he rolled the parchments and stored them in several document tubes, only to discover that there weren't enough of the containers. He hadn't expected to create so many in just one night.
"Guess ya'll'll be sharin' a home. 'least 'till Ah find the time to..." he paused in mid sentence. Until he found the time to what exactly? Another, more thoughtful look at his plans told him that there was little application at the farm for many of them. From small, motion-sensitive alarms to large scale, compressed air extinguishers, there was an obvious potential for these machines that was much better applied elsewhere in Equestria.
He took one of the remaining sheets in his hooves and studied it briefly. It was still incomplete, but the design resembled an entirely metallic hoof. Riddled with wires and gauges, he was certain that many amputees would be thankful. He grinned at the thought.
"Y'know... maybe Ah should show ya'll to somepony." He placed the paper on the table, completely unfolded. It was his favorite, he decided. His own, little invention. "Ah bet them fat cats at Canterlot'll like to see ya."