Clean Slate

by Alaborn


Chapter 6: History

Clean Slate

By Alaborn

Standard disclaimer: This is a not for profit fan work. My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic is copyright Hasbro, Inc. I make no claim to any copyrighted material mentioned herein.

Chapter 6: History


I faced another week of days spent alone. The stack of assignments had dwindled over the past week, and I continued my work. I didn’t have any problem with the grammar and composition assignments. I chewed on my pencil as I looked out the window at the orchard beyond. Sitting at the kitchen table, alone in not sharing the physical labor of the farm, I felt out of place. Even Granny Smith was busy at work, cleaning the farmhouse as she monitored bread dough resting and pies baking.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked.

Granny Smith pondered my request, a hoof at her withered chin. “Well, I reckon you could collect some food from the garden,” she finally said.

That sounded like a chore that wouldn’t task my injured body. But I couldn’t figure out what she wanted me to do. I didn’t want to mess this up. “Do you think you could show me what to pick?” I asked.

“Of course, dearie,” Granny Smith said.

After one final check of the ovens, staring at the apple pies as if commanding them not to burn in her absence, the elderly mare escorted me out of the house. After picking up a small cart and then trotting a short distance, I stood before something surprising.

I’ll be honest. When I heard “garden”, I pictured a small wooden box, filled with topsoil and planted with a small number of herbs, vegetables, and flowers. Instead, I saw what appeared to be an entire separate farm. There were six rows of plants, each thirty times my body length.

“Is that... is that all ours?” I asked.

“Of course, Diamond Tiara,” Granny Smith said. “We have four hungry ponies to feed... five now... and we can’t just go to the market for each meal.”

“So what are we picking?” I asked.

Granny Smith bucked, kicking a wicker basket over her head. It landed, right side up, at my hooves. “Well, we’ve got to get the tomatoes and beans in before they rot, and the cucumbers too,” she said.

“That’s a lot of food,” I said.

“It’s not all for now,” Granny Smith said. “We’ll pickle the cucumbers and can the beans and tomatoes, giving us food for the long winter.”

I looked at the bounty of vegetables. “Do I pick all of these?”

“Not all,” Granny Smith said. “Look for uniform green on the beans and cucumbers, and uniform red on the tomatoes. We’ve got a few weeks before the first frost, so no need to harvest a fruit before it’s time.”

“But these are vegetables,” I said.

“Nope! All fruit,” Granny Smith corrected me.

“The Ministry of Agriculture treats them as vegetables, though,” I commented. Wait, is that correct? If it is, then that’s a strange thing to me to remember.

“I don’t suppose the Ministry cares too much about this little garden,” Granny Smith said.

Little? Maybe relative to the orchard.

“Now, you go and pick whatever you can,” she continued. “If you start to hurt, you get back inside right away.” With that warning, Granny Smith headed back inside, muttering something about hearing the apple pies calling.

The work was strangely calming. I pictured it as another form of physical therapy. There was a lot of repetitive movements, crouching and lifting and stretching. The vegetables, or fruits or whatever, were large enough that I handled picking them without dropping too many. The beans were tricky at first, but I figured out how to pinch the stalks in my pastern and pull, making the bean pods land in the bucket. Before long, Celestia’s sun was halfway to the horizon, and I had a full cart.

Though I ached more, I felt good.


More schoolwork faced me after bringing in the garden’s bounty. I had saved history for last. The assignments covered ancient Equestrian history, topics that were also familiar to me. I finished the assignments Tuesday, not long after returning from physical therapy. I wondered if any material in this textbook was from my own life. I looked ahead to the final chapter of the book.

The Defeat of Nightmare Moon and the Return of Princess Luna, 1474

I knew that happened, but not the specifics. I was surprised by the date listed. This event happened only three years ago. I closed my eyes and searched my memories. There should be something personal. What was my reaction? How did I feel when it happened?

Nothing. Much like what I remembered about the town of Ponyville, where I had apparently lived all my life, my knowledge of this event was a clinical list of facts. I was like an outsider, newly arrived. I bet everypony could say where they were when Nightmare Moon revealed herself. Everypony but me.

So I read on.

My second surprise was learning that this event, of incredible historic import, happened in Ponyville. Again, this event should mean something to me. I continued. A prophecy, a thousand year anniversary, the stars aid her escape, that prophecy forgotten by time. Interesting. I turned the page.

There was a nice illustration on this page, a picture of a stained glass window. I read on, enjoying the account of the sun that failed to rise, and the revelation of Nightmare Moon’s return. How the protégé of Princess Celestia, Twilight Sparkle, led the recovery of the legendary Elements of Harmony and confronted Nightmare Moon. How the power of the magic of friendship won the day, cleansing the banished Princess Luna of the taint of Nightmare Moon.

I then read the caption accompanying the picture:

End of the Nightmare
Stained Glass
Prism Shine (1417- )
Canterlot Castle

Depiction of the Elements of Harmony freeing Princess Luna from the corruption of Nightmare Moon.
From left: Twilight Sparkle (magic), Applejack (honesty), Rainbow Dash (loyalty), Fluttershy (kindness), Pinkie Pie (laughter), Rarity (generosity).


I read that again. Applejack. I traced my hoof over the picture, matching the names to the picture. The color scheme made it clear that the pony immortalized in stained glass was the hardworking mare who was caring for me now. And the energetic pony who helped us bake cupcakes was there, too.

I did not expect this.

I continued reading the chapter. It covered the reaction of the citizens to Princess Luna’s return, the legal changes involved in the reestablishment of the diarchy, and relations with neighboring nations. The sidebar description of Princess Luna’s first royal banquet, and its many mishaps, was quite humorous. But I couldn’t take my mind off that picture.


“Applejack? Could I talk to you?”

Applejack looked at me and smiled warmly. “Of course, sugarcube. Anytime.”

As Celestia’s sun set, covering the land in twilight, it was the cue for the Apples to come in for dinner. Braeburn had returned home, but the kitchen was still crowded with family. Big McIntosh and Apple Bloom washed up while Granny Smith put the finishing touches on her vegetable stew, flavored with the tomatoes I had picked yesterday.

I looked at everypony in the kitchen. “Can we talk in my room?” I asked.

Applejack nodded, and then followed me up the stairs. Once we got to my room, I climbed the stairs onto my bed.

“What’s bothering you, sugarcube?” Applejack asked.

“Nothing’s really bothering me, but...” I said, trailing off. I opened the history textbook to the last chapter and found a certain page. “This is you, right?”

She looked at the stained glass picture. “Yep, that’s me,” Applejack confirmed.

“Can you tell me about what happened?” I asked.

“Shoot, that’s a pretty long story. Want to talk about it over dinner?” Applejack offered.

“I suppose,” I said. “But how come you never mentioned this?”

“It’s nothing special,” she replied. I looked at her funny. “Okay, it is something special,” Applejack continued. “But it doesn’t define who I am. I’m a farmer and a sister, first and foremost. That’s what’s most important to me. Just because I happened to meet Twilight Sparkle, and we did some things to help Equestria, it doesn’t change me.

“I’d like to think anypony would have done the same thing,” she finished. She looked away as she said that last line.

“The book said you are the element of honesty,” I said. “That didn’t sound honest.”

“It was,” Applejack corrected me. “I do like to think that anypony would have answered the call like I did.”

“But you don’t believe that,” I said, stating Applejack’s unspoken words.

She nodded slowly. “It’s frightening, to be honest. As ponies, our natural instinct is to flee or hide. As I walked through the Everfree Forest, ignoring everything I was ever taught by Ma and Pa and Granny and Grandpa, I kept thinking about what I was risking. What would happen to the farm? Would Big McIntosh be okay? What about little Apple Bloom?

“In the end, all I thought about was, if something bad had to happen, it should happen to me.”

I remembered what I heard in the hospital, how my father shielded me with his own body. He might not be in a history book, but he shared Applejack’s willingness to sacrifice for the benefit of others.

I can see why he wanted me to be in Applejack’s care.


“So, it all started with an Apple family reunion. Ponies from all over Equestria came to town, and just in time, because our family received the great honor of catering the Summer Sun Celebration. And it was a very special honor indeed, as Princess Celestia herself was coming to town!”

“Biggest event in Ponyville’s history!” Granny Smith interjected. “And I should know, as I’ve been here for all of them!”

I listened intently as, over dinner, Applejack regaled me with a firsthoof account of the defeat of Nightmare Moon. The textbook description sure wasn’t this exciting! It didn’t mention a manticore, or a sea serpent, or the illusions sent by Nightmare Moon.

“And when Twilight Sparkle recognized the magic of friendship, and unsealed the sixth Element of Harmony, she not only saved Equestria, she succeeded at the task Princess Celestia gave her. She forged close bonds of friendship among us six.”

“You weren’t friends already?” I asked.

“We were. Well, some more than others,” Applejack said. “I already had that rivalry going with Rainbow Dash. Fluttershy, we knew well, because she’s the best pony at helping animals in need. I was friends with Pinkie Pie, but so was everypony. And I never had much to do with Rarity. I may have been friends with them, but at the same level as I’m friends with our neighbor Carrot Top or the mares who sell flowers in the marketplace. It took Twilight Sparkle and the Elements to make us such special friends.”

“Were you scared?” I asked.

“There was plenty to be scared of, topped off by that legendary creation of nightmare,” Applejack said. “But really, the scariest part was when it was just me, holding Twilight on that cliff.”

“Why? What happened?” I wondered.

“I didn’t have the best hold on Twilight Sparkle, and worse, I could feel myself slipping. Her weight was slowly pulling both of us down, and if we both fell, we might not have made it. Now, I saw that Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy had swooped down to save Rarity, and then they grabbed Pinkie Pie. They’d be able to grab Twilight Sparkle, but that meant she had to let go.

“Now, I’m known for my honesty, but she was brand new to town, and it’s not like we hit it off perfectly at the start. So I had one shot to make her believe me, and I had to do it by telling her to drop down the cliff. Trust me, it’s a lot easier to be honest when you’re saying something like ‘That was a fine party’ or ‘I’m so glad to have met you’.” Applejack chuckled.

“Wow,” I whispered.

“It’s a good thing she stayed as calm as she did. If she had been thrashing, then whoa, Nelly....”

I was amazed at Applejack’s casual attitude. She was talking about something that could have hurt her, even killed her!

I guess, compared to that, taking care of me was a cinch.


After Friday afternoon’s physical therapy session, the doctor gave me a clean bill of health. Well, mostly clean. I was still ordered to avoid straining my legs, and I’d have another checkup in a month. But I was free to walk, free to work, free to go to school. I could jump, a little. I no longer needed the steps to get into bed.

Applejack had taken a break from her work to go with me to the hospital. She embraced me as we heard the good news. “Want to celebrate?” she asked.

I had been listening over dinner. I knew the Apples were behind on their harvest. “Let’s just go home,” I said.

“You sure? You think your legs are up for it?” Applejack asked, worried.

“I’m fine,” I said immediately. I was going to say that anyway, but now that I thought about it, I did feel fine. Even after running on the treadmill and lifting weights with all four legs, I felt good enough to walk. No longer was I leaving these sessions feeling like I was balanced on four tubes of jelly.

I kept up my pace on the way back. Applejack, encouraged, trotted faster, and we made it home quickly. She’d have another couple of hours to buck apples. As for me, I went back to the farmhouse. As usual for this time of day, Granny Smith was in the kitchen. I saw more food being prepared than normal. Whether I asked for it or not, it looked like a celebration was going to happen.

I sat on the couch in the living room. I paged through a book, but wasn’t focusing on the words. I was done with homework, done with physical therapy for the day. I was acutely aware of being the only pony not working. So, I went into the kitchen.

“Granny Smith, is there anything I can do to help?”

The family elder turned around, a piping hot pie balanced on the tray in her mouth. With one rear hoof, she kicked the oven door shut, and with a foreleg, she stirred a pot of soup. After setting the pie on the windowsill and spitting out the mouth guard, she said “No, I’ve got it handled.”

“Do you think, maybe someday, you could show me your recipes?” I asked.

“Recipes? Recipes? I don’t need recipes, they’re all up here in my cookbook,” Granny Smith said, tapping her head with a hoof. “But I bet we’ve got some family recipes written down somewhere. Now where would they be?” As she trailed off, Granny Smith started opening various cupboards. Each was cluttered with mismatched mugs, plates, pots, and knickknacks.

“There it is!” she announced. Granny Smith proudly stepped aside, showing me the contents of one cupboard. It was completely stuffed with papers, some looking quite yellowed.

“That’s all recipes?” I said incredulously.

“Probably not, but there’s quite a few Apple family recipes in there, and some of them are from before we settled Ponyville,” Granny Smith said. “If you need any cooking advice, then you come to me.” She leaned in and whispered. “And I wouldn’t trust all those recipes. Just between you and me, some of the aunts and cousins just can’t bake right.”

The unspoken feuds among relatives with their favorite recipes made me smile, but it was something else about Granny Smith’s words that caught my attention. “You were really around for the founding of Ponyville?” I asked.

“Sure was! Why, I was just a spry filly, with a big smile and a brand new cutie mark, when we went to settle these lands. Remind me to tell you the story about zap apples before the next harvest. And speaking of zap apples, there’s zap apple jam, which your great-grandfather sold to ponies from all corners of Equestria!”

“My great-grandfather?” I asked.

“Why, yes, your family has been here almost as long as ours! It was thanks to Stinkin’ Rich that most ponies heard about Ponyville for the first time. And now look at it!”

“And you know my family?”

“Of course! We’ve been business partners for years. Decades!” Granny Smith said.

“Do you know what happened to the rest of my family?” I said quietly.

Granny Smith gave a quick check to the stove. Satisfied that nothing was in immediate danger of going wrong, she looked me in the eye and paused, thinking. “Nope!” she said.

Crestfallen, I turned away.

“Wait!” she called. I looked back. “Now, Stinkin’ Rich, that's Stinkin' Rich the second, or little Stinky as we called him, had three of the cutest foals. Golden Sky, Filthy Rich, and Crystal Crown. But they all grew up, and the other two moved away ages ago. Celestia willing, they’re still around, but I haven’t seen them for twenty, thirty years.”

Maybe they weren’t all right. After all, I was placed in the care of the Apples.

Granny Smith must have noticed me staring off. She wrapped a bony foreleg around me, a gesture that still felt very comforting. “I’m glad you care about your extended family. That’s important,” she said. “But, I guess not every family is as close as ours.”

“Thanks for the history lesson, Granny Smith,” I said.

“Anytime, dearie,” she replied.

I gazed at the cupboard stuffed with papers. Whether from an old recipe or a new textbook, I realized there was a lot of history that I would have to discover anew.