Celestia’s sun was just breaching the horizon as Macintosh Apple, more commonly known as Big Macintosh or Big Mac, current head of the Apple Family and owner of Sweet Apple Acres, awoke from a peaceful night’s sleep. The bright red Earth Pony gave a loud yawn as he heaved his enormous frame upright, the bedsprings creaking beneath him. He’d had the bed made special by his friend in town, Feather Down, to accommodate his unusual size, but it still complained whenever he moved suddenly.
Big Macintosh went about his morning routine, as he did every morning. He went into the bathroom and splashed some water on his face to chase away the last of sleep. He brushed his teeth quickly and efficiently, his hooves gripping the toothbrush with a surety born of long practice. He reentered his room and gave the mane of his Smarty Pants doll a quick brushing - a relatively new addition to his routine. He donned his usual horse collar, and turned to leave the room... only to come face to face with his calendar.
His calendar had a great many marks upon it in red ink, marking days of importance to the running of the farm. The end of Applebuck Season was always busy; this month of the calendar was practically covered in ink. But today’s date, right near the very bottom of the calendar, was different, because instead of the usual detailed note, it was bare but for the words “The Day” written upon it and circled.
It always managed to sneak up in him, Big Macintosh thought. What with the craziness of Applebuck Season, trying to harvest all of the many trees that grew on Sweet Apple Acres before the change of seasons, he always forget The Day. It might seem strange to other ponies that he’d forget such an important date, but those ponies had never tried running a farm.
There was no work to be done today, not for him. The last time he’d tried to help out on The Day, Applejack had threatened to cut off his own tail and make him eat it. Big Macintosh had wisely chosen not to test her. He supposed he could go back to sleep if he wanted, but he was far too used to rising with the sun. He doubted he’d get any rest. So he left his room and headed downstairs to the kitchen. Even if Applejack wouldn’t let him help on the farm, Celestia herself wouldn’t be able to keep him from doing something, even if it was just cooking breakfast for his family.
And yet, as he entered the kitchen, he found that even that simple chore had been taken from him. Granny Smith snoozed in her chair as piles of her signature apple pancakes cooled on the countertop. Big Macintosh had always had a weakness for his grandmother’s pancakes; clearly, the dear old mare had stayed up late last night, cooking his favorite treat. His slight disappointment at his inability to help was drowned out by a warm feeling of gratitude.
He’d just sat down at the table with a larger helping of the delicious sweet pancakes than was strictly necessary when a wild thumping on the stairs indicated the arrival of a certain hyperactive filly. Apple Bloom rarely woke this early, but today was The Day. She wouldn’t want to be late to greet her brother.
Big Macintosh stepped away from his plate and braced himself just in time to meet a flying tackle-hug from his youngest sister. “Happy Birthday, big brother!” Applebloom chirped happily.
Big Macintosh smiled as he carefully returned the tiny filly’s hug. “Mornin’, ‘Bloom.” He drawled, setting her down carefully. “Seems Granny Smith made us some pancakes. Want some?”
“Do I!?” Applebloom exclaimed, excitable as always. With a chuckle, Big Macintosh served his younger sister some pancakes as another, much calmer set of hoofsteps on the stairs signaled the arrival of Big Mac’s last remaining family member.
“Happy Birthday, Mac!” Applejack called cheerfully, if a little sleepily, as she entered the kitchen. Applejack had always been a heavy sleeper, but she refused to let that stop her from waking on time. Big Macintosh worried about her, sometimes, but ever since the spectacle of last year’s Applebuck Season, she’d been taking better care of herself. “See yah found the pancakes Granny Smith made for ya’ll.” She served herself some. “So, what’s the plan?”
Big Macintosh thought for a moment. Normally, when he had a rare day off, he liked to find a quiet corner to read. He was actually quite a fan of adventure novels, but opportunities to read were too few. As appealing as the idea sounded to him, though, that just wouldn’t do for today. You had to do something special for your birthday. Otherwise, it was just another day. “Think I’ll go hiking.” He said finally. “Haven’t been up in them mountains in years.”
“Th’ mountains?” Applejack looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Ah dunno, Mac. It can get mighty dangerous up there... The girl’s and Ah saw a hydra up there once. Well, ran from a hydra. Same thing. Not ta mention there used to be a dragon up there; who knows what coulda moved in after it left.”
Big Macintosh gave his sister a rare smile. “When did you become the reasonable one?” Seeing Applejack’s annoyed face, he gave her a quick nuzzle. “Aww, don’t worry none, sis. I’ll be fine. Ah can take care’a myself.”
Applejack just sighed. “Ah know. Ah just worry, that’s all. Ya’ll know we couldn’t get by witho-”
CRASH! Big Mac and Applejack both turned towards the counter to see Applebloom, covered in pancakes. Apparently, she’d tried to reach the plate on the counter for second helpings, only to result in a broken plate and a new pancake coat. “Whoops.” She said sheepishly.
Applejack rolled her eyes. “You finish yer breakfast and get ready fer that hike of yours, Mac. Ah’ll take care’a this.”
“Eeeeyup.” Big Macintosh replied, mildly relieved not to have to deal with the sticky filly.
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“You be careful now, ya’hear?” Applejack said as she helped secure Big Macintosh’s saddlebags.
“Eeeyup. Don’t worry, I’ll be back b’fore Pinkie’s birthday party..” The large stallion promised, giving his sister an affectionate nuzzle. “You look after Applebloom and Granny Smith. Carrot Top’ll be by later to check up on you.”
“Check up on me?” Applejack cracked a smile. “Dontcha trust me? Ah’m a bit old for a babysitter, Mac.”
“It ain’t you I’m worried about.” Big Macintosh reassured her. “Applebloom invited her friends over for lunch t’day. Unless you want to deal with ‘em on yer own...”
Applejack made a face. “Never mind. Send all th’ babysitters you want.”
Macintosh gave a low chuckle. “Thought so. Take care, sis.” He gave her another nuzzle and headed out.
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Big Macintosh always loved the outdoors. The fresh air, the smell of nature. He counted himself lucky that his work required him to stay outside all day, rather than cooped up in a stuffy office somewhere. Still, farm work kept him so busy, he rarely had time to stop and enjoy himself. As he hiked up the gently sloping mountain path, he kept his pace relaxed, stopping frequently to smell the flowers, or give a crumb of bread to a passing animal, or simply admire the scenery.
And what scenery! Even only halfway up the mountain, the view from up here was simply breathtaking. More than once, Macintosh found himself wishing he was an artist or poet, so he could capture the natural beauty of the gently rollings hills and wide open plains of grass below him. Even a camera would do. Sadly, Macintosh had never been a very artistic pony, so he simply admired the scene and continued his upward climb.
Celestia’s sun was reaching its’ zenith now, and even the indefatigable Big Macintosh was beginning to tire. He decided to stop and rest, leaning against the rocky wall of the mountain as he fished an apple out of his saddlebags. He munched it contentedly as he pulled out one of his favorite books, a fascinating book by a stallion named Coltien. The plot was slightly confusing, but it seemed to be about a magic ring and a fellowship of ponies that formed to safeguard it. Applejack’s librarian friend Twilight had recommended it to him, and let him keep it for an extra week since she knew how busy he was.
He was just settling down to read when a loud growl filled the air. All at once, Big Macintosh was alert, hurriedly sweeping his borrowed book back into his saddlebag. A second growl sounded as he hurriedly got to his hooves, just in time to see the source of the noise clambering up the path behind him. It was a creature he recognized from an incident about half a year ago, when that loudmouthed show-mare had came to town. A large bear, bigger than the barn back on Sweet Apple Acres, with skin seemingly made of stars and blue sky. An Ursa Minor.
The monster was a bit smaller than the one that had attacked Ponyville, but it was still plenty large enough to crush even a pony of Big Macintosh’s size under its’ paw. One thing that the small, rational part of his brain that wasn’t panicking noticed was a strange symbol inscribed on the beast’s forehead, but he had no time to regard it. BIg Macintosh was a pony of incredible strength and stalwart courage, but when faced with this immense beast, the only recourse was to do something he was very much unaccustomed to: turn tail and run.
Big Macintosh turned and galloped up the mountain path, hoping the Ursa wouldn’t follow. It was just a baby, after all, he reasoned, remembering what Twilight had said after banishing the beast from Ponyville. It was likely just grumpy and stomping around; it wasn’t after him. He just needed to put some distance between him and it, and he could continue his leisurely hike. Right?
Apparently not, as a loud roar and earth-shaking footsteps indicated the massive blue beast giving chase. Big Macintosh’s powerful legs pumped desperately, trying to escape, but as strong and fit the farmpony was, he was built for endurance, not speed. The Ursa behind him was not an especially fast beast, but it’s incredibly long pace meant it could chew up distance at an astonishing rate, gaining on the fleeing Earth Pony at an alarming rate.
This wasn’t working, Big Mac thought, searching desperately for some means of escape. Other than continuing to run desperately forward, his only options were to throw himself from the mountainside or to run towards the Ursa, hoping to dodge its legs and teeth and get past it. A glance behind him showed that option to be unfeasible; the mountain path was just large enough to accommodate the beast, he’d never squeeze past.
Mac’s chest began to burn with exertion as the Ursa Minor came closer and closer, its enormous jaws snapping at him viciously as they approached. Just as he began to despair of his survival and contemplate the bitter irony of dying on one’s birthday, his salvation came into view - a cave set into the side of the mountain. It was a spacious opening, but far too small for the pursing beast. With a burst of speed born of desperation, the exhausted Earth Pony cleared the last few feet to the cave and dove inside just ahead of the massive bear’s snapping jaws.
Sprawled on the ground and gasping desperately for air, Big Mac looked back to see if the Ursa would leave. Sadly, quite the opposite was true; the beast seemed determined to follow its quarry despite the physical impossibility, forcing its head and shoulders into the too-small opening. It roared in frustration, its thrashing shaking the cave violently. Big Mac could feel the vibrations through his aching, exhausted hooves; if it kept this up, it could collapse the cave on the both of them. “Horseapples.” Big Mac swore quietly.
He couldn’t stay here, that was for sure. Already, pebbles and small rocks were beginning to fall from the ceiling of the cave. Thankfully, a tunnel extended deeper into the mountain, away from the maddened beast. Forcing himself to his hooves, the exhausted stallion hurried down the tunnel as fast as his aching limbs could carry him. With any luck, the tunnel would come out somewhere else, so he could leave the mountain’s innards without having to go past the insane Ursa.
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At first, Mac moved at the closest thing to a run his exhausted legs could manage, trying to escape the danger zone at the cave’s mouth. Once he’d gone far enough so that he could no longer see the entrance, and the monster’s roars and flailing a distant rumble, however, he slowed to a sedate walk. He pulled a flashlight from his saddlebag, holding it in his mouth to illuminate the cave. Celestia bless Applejack; she’d insisted he be prepared for anything, and had packed him a flashlight in case he got lost and stayed out past sunset. He’d tried to tell her it wasn’t necessary, that he knew the mountains well enough to find his way, but she’d insisted and he was glad for it.
The tunnel wound a short ways past the bend which blocked off light from the entrance, before opening up into a larger cavern. The cavern, sadly, had only the one entrance; if he wanted to leave the cave, he’d have to go back the way he came, and he could still hear the distant sounds of the disgruntled Ursa, though it seemed less agitated for the moment.
Trapped as he was for the time being, Macintosh decided to look around the cavern, not that there was much to see. It was largely empty, save for a lump of rock in the very center of the room, shaped like a very roughly-hewn pedestal. Upon the pedestal rested what appeared to be a gnarled old walking stick, just high enough a pony to support his front hoof on as he walked. Mac approached the pedestal, regarding the stick curiously. The pedestal, he discovered, was not roughly hewn, per se, but only half finished. Its base was of beautiful, smooth craftsmanship, with runes of a language Macintosh did not recognize along it’s length. However, about a third of the way up the pedestal’s length, the fine work abruptly gave way to bare rock, as though the crafter had given up partway through. Why had someone placed such a seemingly worthless stick here with such care, only to abandon it and leave its resting place incomplete?
Big Macintosh wondered about this only briefly, as another, more practical thought came to his head. Using the staff as a lever, he might be able to pry some larger rocks loose from the tunnel walls. He could buck pretty hard when he had a mind to; he figured he could kick a few boulders at the Ursa and with any luck, he might chase it off. His energy bolstered by his new plan, Big Mac took the staff from the pedestal and leaned his hoof against it, intending to use it for it’s intended purpose as a walking stick first. After all, was still quite tired.
The tip of the staff came down and banged against the ground with a resounding crash that the tiny impact didn’t warrant.
A bright light emitted from the cane’s top, growing brighter and brighter until it enveloped him with a bright flash and a crash of thunder.
Big Mac felt power surging through him like he never felt before. He dropped his flashlight to the ground as the power overtook him, wiping away his exhaustion. He hardly noticed the straps of his saddlebags bursting as he grew too large for them, his body warping as the electric power washed through him, changing him to suit itself.
As abruptly as it had begun, suddenly, the display of power stopped, and the might being who stood in the center of the cavern opened it’s eyes.
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Miles away, in Ponyville, one pony was in the library, busily studying “A History of Sexuality in the Griffin Tribes”. Twilight found the subject endlessly engrossing, and rather enlightening. It actually went some ways towards explaining the highly defensive behavior of Dash’s friend - make that former friend - Gilda during her visit to Ponyville. However, she was distracted from her studies as she suddenly detected a massive surge of magic, so powerful it almost felt like a physical blow to her horn. The shock of it knocked her to the floor, causing her to drop her book. Her book was swiftly forgotten, however, as she called to her faithful assistant. “Spike!” She called out. “Get my book on ‘Advanced Spellcraft and Magical Phenomena, then get some paper and quill. We need to send the Princess a letter.”
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Pinkie Pie merrily hummed her Cupcakes Song as she withdrew a fresh batch of the titular treats from the oven. She took them to the counter to apply some icing, her mind wandering as it often did. At the moment, she was wondering what clouds were made of. They just felt wet and cold when she passed through them on her whirly-copter, but Rainbow Dash slept on them all the time and said they were comfy and warm. How could something be warm and dry and cold and wet all at the same time? Was it magic? Was there some kind of trick? Did pegasus wings turn clouds warm somehow? Maybe it was like baking, turning a wet and sticky batter into delicious treats? OH! Maybe clouds were made of pastries!
Suddenly a powerful shudder ran up her spine as her Pinkie Sense went into overdrive. Her entire body shook with the force of the sensation, her spine twisting like a pretzel before she spun around in a circle like a miniature pink tornado. Finally, she plopped down on the ground, the spinning left her dizzy. Pinkie shook her head, trying to clear it. That was different. She hadn’t felt a Pinkie Sense like that since... since... “That’s not good.” She whispered. She looked at the cupcakes on the counter that had miraculously survived her seizure, but the colorful confections no longer appealed to her.
She just wasn’t hungry anymore.
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Princess Celestia was in a terribly boring meeting about the wages of weather ponies in Hoofington when she felt it. A wave of magic, stronger than anything anypony other then herself or her sister could manage. But this wasn’t her sister’s magic, that much she could tell. This magic was... new.
The Princess raised a hoof to stop the mayor of Hoofington. “I’m sorry, Parchment Paper, but I’m going to have to cut our meeting short. Something has just come up. Please, put any further concerns you have in writing and have them delivered to my secretary. I’ll be sure to give them due consideration.” She ignored the mare’s protests as she nearly bolted from the room. It took her less than a minute to arrive at Luna’s room.
The younger alicorn was waiting for her with a grin on her face. “You felt it too, didn’t you, Tia?” She asked excitedly, looking for all the world like a filly on Christmas Morning. “That was new.”
“Oh, I felt it all right.” Celestia assured her, feeling a smile of her own steal across her face. “I don’t know where it came from, but...” She was interrupted as a scroll materialized in a flash of green flame before her. “Ah, sweet, dutiful Twilight. She must have felt it as well. Let’s see what she discovered.” She levitated the scroll up and opened it.
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Deep in the Everfree Forest, a blue unicorn looked up weakly from her bed of leaves and grass. “What in Equestria...?”
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Even deeper in the Everfree, where the trees grew so think neither the sun’s harsh gaze nor the playful light of the moon could penetrate, a powerful presence stirred. “AT LAST....” It sighed. “MY REVENGE IS AT HAND.”
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Up in the mountains, the Ursa continued to grunt and snort as it tried to force its’ way into the cave after it’s quarry. It’s efforts ceased, however, as it saw something something stirring ahead. But this was not it’s quarry. This was something new, and it was coming towards the monster very fast...
A powerful voice rang out, echoing off the mountains. “Begone, foul beast!” the figure roared, moments before something very hard and heavy impacted with the Ursa’s head and sent it sprawling, instantly unconscious.
Floating triumphantly in the air above the beast was a glorious alicorn, larger in stature than even Princess Celestia, if only by a few inches. His coat was a deep blue, with silver highlights along his sides. His mane flowed like spun gold and crackled with electric power. His flank was covered with a large storm cloud cutie mark, bisected by a single golden lightening bolt. His wings stretched out several feet to either side, and his horn was nearly a foot long itself. To his right forehoof, a ornate hammer with a intricately carved stone head was bound tightly with thick twine, to allow him to swing it with ease.
The majestic alicorn looked down at the beast he’d felled, taking note of the rune inscribed into it’s forehead. The symbol looked like a stylized snake, twisted into an odd shape almost like the letter S. The sign was extremely familiar to him, if only he could remember. The alicorn’s brow furrowed in frustration. What was wrong with him? His memories were all fuzzy; he couldn’t remember... he couldn’t... wait.
Who was he?
Big Mac blinked as his mind resurfaced, taking over from the instinctual personality that had gripped his mind. His neck craned as he looked back at his new body in wide-eyed surprise. He took in his wings, his coat, his mane, his new cutie mark. He raised a hoof to his forehead to feel the long horn now protruding from it.
Finally, in his own voice, he spoke the only words that he felt could accurately convey his feelings.
“What the hay?”