1217 CE, one day after Celestia’s letter.
Dash had stayed until Twilight calmed down, then left to resume her nap. Twilight surveyed her notes, filed them away carefully, then summoned out her plan and a quill, putting a satisfying check next to “Ask Rainbow Dash for advice,” and moved down to the next box: “Ask Applejack for advice.” Returning that scroll to her saddlebag, she levitated out her preparatory notes for talking to Applejack.
Some ponies, and at least one dragon, thought that Twilight’s level of organization was, well, intense. Twilight would have agreed with them, if it was just the checklists and schedules everypony else saw. But Twilight saw the system of tasks and deadlines that those tools supported. Each task was small enough to seem easy, but checking it off the list was a small victory spurring her on, and this way she only had to remember everything once, not every time. Her memory was good, but paper's memory was perfect. Each block of time devoted to a specific activity meant she had a looming deadline keeping her focused, without the anxiety that she wouldn’t be able to finish in time. And intense organization allowed her to tackle immense problems. Most other ponies in Ponyville would react to a personal request from the Princess of Equestria to do original scholarship as if it were a cockatrice, freezing in place in front of a cliff too high for them to ever climb. Twilight saw the same cliff in her imagination, but with ink on parchment she drew herself stairs in that cliff, breaking down a monumental mission into manageable objectives, and those manageable objectives into easy actions, stacking those actions one atop another to make a schedule that brought her step by step from where she was to where she wanted to be. All she had to do was to put one hoof in front of the other.
Thus Twilight stepped out of the library, walking down the road towards Sweet Apple Acres, reading her notes on Applejack. Expected insights: Honesty seems like the core of a solid epistemological approach; she’ll definitely have a lot to say on that. She manages a farm: she must know something about decision-making. I’ve read that agricultural experiments led to the development of several statistical techniques; she may know more.
The warm sun shone on Sweet Apple Acres and a slight breeze rustled the leaves of the apple trees in a verdant symphony. Applejack sniffed reflexively, smelling blossoms, dirt, and sweat.
She snorted at the last scent. She had been working hard, but could tell it wasn't hers; Big Macintosh must be just a bit upwind of her. Checking the fences around Sweet Apple Acres was a job as boring as it was long, but it needed to get done. In the Apple family way, they turned it into a game: Big Mac and Applejack would start at the same post and go in opposite directions. They would mark the post where they met, and then check the other's work. The pony who covered more fence was the winner and didn't have to help with dinner that night--but missing anything was a five post penalty, and so they moved quickly but carefully before they met up, and then crowed delightedly on finding any mistakes on the second pass.
They were close to the midway point. The race would be over soon, and Applejack didn't think she had much of an edge. The next wooden post was still sturdy, crossbeams snug in place. Applejack gave it a quick second glance, then ran on towards the next post, catching a whiff of ink on the air, then spotting Twilight walking up to the farm.
"Well, howdy there sugarcube!" Applejack leaned on the fencepost, looking around to check for anything that needed fixing. "What brings you round these parts?"
"Heya Applejack!" Twilight smiled broadly. "I wanted to chat for a bit. You free?"
Applejack grimaced slightly, looking at the fence, then back to Twilight. "Just to chat? Ah'm sorry, but Ah got a lot of work to do today. If it can wait, how about you come back for dinner and then we can talk?"
Twilight Sparkle looked disappointed for a second, then smiled. “Okay! Have fun!” She turned around, trotting back up the path.
Applejack raced on to the next post. “Oh, Ah will,” she said to the wind with a smile.
It was only a few more posts before she saw Big Mac, giving a fencepost a final tap. Applejack smiled smugly, as the midway post was two posts behind her. She still could lose, if she had made a mistake and Mac didn't, but she thought that was unlikely. “Ya did well, Big Mac,” she smirked.
“Eeyup,” he cheerfully replied.
“But Ah'm afraid I did better.”
He smiled. “Eeyup.” They passed, now doublechecking the other's work with eyes peeled like apples ready for coring. Big Mac was a bit more of a gracious loser than Applejack was, but as she checked his posts Applejack had to admit he was also a bit more careful than she was. It'd been a while since she'd missed a broken post, but when one of them did find a mistake, it was generally him cantering to their meeting point with smugness straining the edges of his stoic demeanor.
Applejack had a few seconds to catch her breath and smooth down her coat when she saw Big Mac trot up with a resigned look. She broke out into a grin. “Well, what're you cookin' tonight, Big Mac?”
Big Mac looked thoughtful for a moment. “What'd Miz Twilight want?”
Applejack blinked, surprised. The smell of ink hadn't been that strong, but the breeze was faint and it would have only taken a few minutes for Big Mac to make it to the post where she met Twilight. “Just to talk. She's comin' to dinner.”
She could see Big Mac's focus go a level deeper. “She liked that apple stromboli Apple Bloom made when she wanted a chef cutie mark, didn't she?”
Applejack snorted. “Yeah, she was the only one who looked like she wasn't saying it out of politeness.”
Big Mac shuffled his haystalk from one side of his mouth to the other. “Maybe not the only one.”
Twilight wished there was a way she could see if her friends were available on short notice besides walking up and asking them, but at least by bringing along a book she kept it from cutting into her studying time too much. Soon she was looking at John Fetlocke's Essay Concerning Pony Understanding instead of trees. Twilight liked trees about as much as anypony, she supposed (with the obvious exception of Applejack), but found she liked them much better when processed into paper. Whenever she thought of all the knowledge that ponykind had carefully gathered and stored within books and libraries, she would shiver with excitement at the world she lived in. What a time to be alive, she would murmur in her mind, looking back at all the past had to say to her, which paper had made possible to say cheaply.
Before tackling the classic work on epistemology, Twilight had read the chapter on it in a more modern philosophy textbook. “Essay” had clearly been meant in the classical sense of the word, unsurprising for something centuries old, as it was four volumes and six hundred pages long. Reading the dedication to Celestia on the first page had given her a thrill; perhaps the Princess had met the author and discussed the work with him, and would have stories to tell Twilight. For a mare as interested in the history of ideas as Twilight, it was hard to find someone more fascinating than Celestia, who had been alive through it all, and talked with many of Twilight’s intellectual heroes.
She had been reluctant to start and finish a book anywhere other than the first and last page, but years of targeted research eventually forced her to pick up the habit. Sometimes you just wanted a single spell out of a spellbook--and the books would always wait politely for you if you wanted to read them later, though there were too many for even Celestia to read all of them. She had skimmed the book first, trying to get a general sense of what Fetlocke considered important and how he structured his argument. If Applejack referred to it, she wanted to have enough of the formal vocabulary to follow along. Or, she supposed, Applejack's knowledge of the subject might be independently discovered, or passed down from her family. “Ooh!” she absentmindedly said to herself, “I should add homespun wisdom to the expectations scroll!”
Lyra looked at Bon-Bon, who looked back at her. They politely waited until Twilight had made it around the corner before they burst out laughing at Twilight's remark, though they weren't entirely sure if Twilight would have heard them if they hadn't waited. Some ponies just never knew when to take their noses out of a book.
Applejack's other chores went by quickly. Sweet Apple Acres was big for only two ponies of working age, but she and Big Mac made it work through skill, determination, and buckets of sweat, which she was currently washing off with buckets of water. Big Mac had just jumped into the pond and then shook himself dry, since he had to make dinner with Granny Smith, but Applejack had time to relax. She finished washing and started braiding her hair, pondering Big Mac's question. He was a hospitable pony--any Apple was--and so it made sense that he’d make sure Twilight would enjoy dinner. But she got the sense that there was something he hadn't told her yet, and was finding it hard to not jump to conclusions.
Apple Bloom looked quizzically at the apple stromboli, and only Twilight and Big Mac had taken large portions. But there were several dishes, and enough food for all of them to fill their plates twice (three times for Big Mac), and so they descended on their food with a vengeance. They chatted idly about the state of the farm, the neighbors, what Apple Bloom had learned in school that day. The meal wound down contentedly, everypony talking less and less as they became gradually warmer and fuller. Eventually, Granny Smith declared it Apple Bloom's bedtime, and escorted her off despite the filly's yawning complaints.
The three sat in contented silence for a moment. Big Mac lazily moved the haystalk from one side of his mouth to the other. Applejack felt the pie resettling in her stomach.
"So, sugarcube, what did you want to talk about?"
Twilight began talking excitedly. "Well, I got a letter from Princess Celestia!" Applejack took a slow breath to try and maintain the peace of a warm meal, but Twilight's enthusiasm was too infectious. "She asked me to learn about rationality, especially decision-making under uncertainty and epistemology-"
"She-piss-the-what?" Applejack asked, confused.
Twilight blinked, clearly thinking, then said “How you decide if ideas are right and beliefs are true.”
Applejack thought for a moment, envious of Big Mac's haystalk and tapping her hooves instead. How did she decide if ideas were right? “Well, Ah tend to follow a policy of trust, but verify. If they're a dependable pony, or Ah expect them to know more about it than Ah do, then Ah'll believe it. But there are some things you've got to see for yourself.”
Twilight levitated out a parchment scroll, quill, and ink bottle, and wrote in neat script 'trust but verify'. The scratching of the quill on parchment made it a little harder for Applejack to focus. It felt like one of the chickens was trying to get loose, and she had to remind herself to relax. Twilight asked, “How about decision-making under uncertainty? I'm sure you've got a lot to say about that.”
“Decision-making under certainty is hard enough, sometimes. It’s not always obvious what’s best for you and what you care about most.” Applejack was quiet for a moment, and Big Mac stretched a hoof out towards her. She held it, then continued. “Ah know Ah was confused for a while. Did you ever hear the story of when Ah got my cutie mark? Ah had decided that Ah was sick of this family and this farm, and Ah wanted to get as far away as Ah could. Our aunt and uncle live in glamorous Manehattan, so Ah went to stay with them.” She chuckled. “That didn’t go well at all. One night away was all Ah needed to remind me of what Ah was missing. And as soon as Ah realized that, Ah saw Dash’s Sonic Rainboom, and Ah was on the next train home. Ah find that it’s easiest to figure out what you value, and keep that in mind, rather than going crazy about what you don’t know. And thinking about what’s most important to you makes figuring out what you need to know easy.”
She saw Big Mac glance towards the hill, and she looked that way too. During the day, the two trees were visible from the window, but from anywhere on the farm they could tell which way the hill was. She continued, “Ah’ve found that it helps to take time regularly to just think about your life, what you care about, and why. It helps to make sure you’re focused on what’s really important to you, not what’s right in front of you."
She gestured towards the window, away from the hill and towards the orchard that stretched off under the moonlight. “Take one of our trees, for example. Ah love that tree because Ah love our farm because Ah love my family. If this tree had a blight that could bring down the farm, Ah'd be the first to chop it down and burn it, even though Ah'd deeply regret the necessity. If the farm was making Apple Bloom sick, Ah'd be the first to recommend moving." Her mouth twisted as if she had eaten a sour apple, clearly unhappy to even be thinking about those possibilities.
Twilight's quill came to a rest, and she reread what Applejack had said. Applejack watched fireflies lazily twirl through the window, and Big Mac resettled the haystalk in his mouth.
"A spreading blight..." Twilight murmured. "That could be like a lie or a false belief: it could spread to other statements or beliefs and threaten your orchard of truth."
Applejack snorted at the idea of growing truth on trees, as if it were some sort of fruit. Big Mac cleared his throat and gave her a significant look that she interpreted to mean If you don't bring it up, I will. She glared back at him, but relented quickly. It was fair.
"That's... a good way of puttin' it, Twilight. Celestia knows Ah've held on to some beliefs long after I knew they were wrong.”
Twilight's eyes lit up, and she helpfully started, "Like that time you believed you could do everything without help-"
"Yep."
"-or that time you believed you needed to fund the repairs for town hall-"
"Yep."
"or that time when-"
"Ah think you made your point, Twilight," Applejack said with a glare.
"Oh.” Twilight giggled. “Sorry about that; I just like to associate three examples with a trend, to make sure it's not just a fluke or coincidence."
They waved goodbye to Twilight, who summoned a small light to guide her way back to the library. Once Twilight's light had vanished behind a hill, Applejack turned to Big Mac, who was still watching the road, a wistful expression on his face. “Anything you want to tell me, Big Mac?”
“Eenope,” he said as innocently as he could muster.
She narrowed her eyes. “Anything you should tell me, Big Mac?”
He glanced away, then sighed heavily. He glanced at the ground near her hooves. “Mmaybe.”
She waited, a slight breeze of crisp night air teasing their manes, but he released no details. “Ah'll say it, if that'd be easier for you.”
He looked up to her face. “Ah'd rather you didn't.”
She paused, but he remained silent, and so she went on. “Ah reckon you're interested in Twilight.”
He looked away. After a few seconds, a soft “Mmaybe” escaped her elder brother.
“Well, there's only one thing to do, then. Tell her!”
“Ah can't do that!” he said, eyes widening in fear. “What would she see in a pony like me?”
“A fine Apple!” Applejack said, her temper rising. “Half the mares in Ponyville would jump at the chance to go on a date with you! Ah'm sure you've noticed them flirting with you when you work the market stall.”
Big Mac turned a slightly deeper shade of red, barely visible in the moonlight, and always difficult for any outside his family to notice. “Eeyup, but... Twilight hasn't.”
“Well... maybe she wants you to make the first move. She did grow up in Canterlot; who knows how they do things there.”
They were both silent, staring out over the farm. Applejack realized another implication of her observation: she had meant to reassure Big Mac, but neither of them knew what manners Twilight would expect. A cloud slowly drifted across the south field, raining on the trees there. Twilight was a pony who thrived with written rules and clear expectations; if Big Mac declared his interest in a way she wasn't expecting, she might freeze up. An owl hunted over the north field, only visible when its silhouette blotted out stars. But even researching the Canterlot way to do things might backfire; Twilight had commented before on how refreshingly honest and unpretentious Ponyville was, and putting on city airs didn't seem like it would help. Her brother's breaths were long and even, the tip of his haystalk slowly dancing as he chewed on it. It had been a while since they had just stood together, thinking; there was always so much to do. She had always assumed that he would find a mare sometime, just like she had always assumed that she would find a stallion sometime. But for the first time, she realized that sometime might be now.
She wondered how good Twilight was at reading ponies. Twilight was great at reading books, that much was obvious, but Big Mac conveyed most of his meanings with gestures and expressions, supplemented by the occasional word. Applejack had been comforted many times by his strong shoulder and patient ears; was that what Twilight wanted in a stallion? Or would Twilight want someone who could talk her out of her anxieties, who could impress her with lectures on abstract subjects or fancy poetry?
Applejack felt odd wondering that, her familial pride conflicting with her friendship. She wanted Big Mac to be happy; she wanted Twilight to be happy. If they could be happy together, all the better. But if not...
“Ah want her to like you as much as you do,” she said softly.
He chuckled. “Eenope.”
She smiled. “Okay, maybe a bit less. But waiting around ain't gonna help. Either she likes you, or she don't; either way, you'll be able to move forward.”
He nodded, and they stared into the night together.