What Is Your Purpose Here, Elspeth?
Elspeth let out a relaxed sigh. Sweet Apple Acres was truly a refreshing sight.
Light from a brand new day peeked over far-off mountaintops, yet still managed to land perfectly on the Apple Family's property. Every piece of perfectly polished fruit caught the light like an organic mirror. The shine was nearly blinding in its brilliance and awe-inspiring in its aura. Even from where she stood atop one of the farm's low, rolling hills, Elspeth could feel the overwhelming amounts of love and hard work her temporary suitors poured into the upkeep of their livelihoods.
Dew clung heavily to the vegetation, giving the farm a healthy morning sheen. By noon Elspeth figured that the sun would evaporate the minuscule droplets and bring the farm up to what many would consider suffocating humidity. Having camped, trained, and fought in similar or worse environments, a day in the fields was a welcome taste of normalcy. Though that simply begs the question “What would be considered a normal experience for me?” the mare asked herself. I hop from world to world facing demons, undead, and all manner of rabble, guided by faith– she flinched, her thoughts dredging up painful memories of Heliod's betrayal– by honor… and by loss. Elspeth knew that her honor might demand that she return to Theros one day. The Solar Deity needed to pay for his actions and people deserved to know of Heliod's pettiness, but what good would it do? I have no doubts that Heliod has already labeled me, his champion, a heretic. Her frown deepened as she removed yet another plane from her ever-dwindling list of safe havens. Though it would be nice to have closure on that chapter of my life.
Sighing, Elspeth all but resigned herself to the cruel, unending Wheel of Fortuna. Her wings hung limply at her sides. ...Am I a coward? How often have I run from a situation?
What control over the finer details of her body she had was purely instinctual. With her snout brushing the moist grass and her ears folded back, there was no hiding her feelings. She'd already accepted the lose of Mirrodin and Heliod's reasoning while on her deathbed; now she was doing nothing more than projecting her anguish.
I'm ruining such a beautiful morning. The only thing seemingly going right for Elspeth was her equine body's rapid recovery; normally, that would be a boon, but the mare feared that it would bring her unwanted attention. A sudden deep, woody thunk from confines of the methodically planted orchard below destroyed Elspeth's self-destructive line of thought and instead drew her attention to the source of the disturbance. The sound reminded her that it wasn't all bad. Despite being a complete– and possibly dangerous-- stranger, the Apples had been nothing but caring, while Fluttershy's help had been instrumental in getting her up and walking. Elspeth closed her eyes and drew a deep, calming breath. This new world around her held much more to offer than just mere sights. She already owed them so much, yet had nothing of value with which to pay her debt. Elspeth was never a woman to let a debt go unpaid, and her transformation into a mare would not change that.
Shakey hooves carried her down the gentle slope, her pony ears simultaneously swiveling about in an attempt to pinpoint, what she recognized as the sound of hooves striking wood. Soon, Elspeth found her eyes being drawn to the bushels of crispy-looking, bright red apples littered purposefully about at the bases of several trees. A quick glance told her that these trees were as healthy as they could be, but there was also more. At her core, in some nondescript spot in her chest, she could feel a dull throb whenever she gave one of the trees her attention. However, the tighter she tried to grasp the strange feeling, the harder it became to isolate it, forcing the mare to direct the entirety of her focus on determining just what she was feeling.
“Mornin’ miss Elspeth--”
“--AH!”
“I… I cannot apologize enough.” During her entire apologetic spiel, Elspeth’s head was so low that a far-off spectator could’ve mistaken her posture for grazing. Combined with her splayed back ears and tucked, dragging tail there was no fighting her body this time when it decided to wear her feelings openly.
Big Mac gingerly nursed his split lip, occasionally touching a hoof his face only to recoil from the stinging pain. “And again, it’s fine,” he assured. “Ya got one mighty fine buck there, miss Elspeth. Only other pony who ever popped me that fierce was AJ,” the stallion admitted as he worked his tender jaw back and forth.
Elspeth wanted to blame her fearful, skittish prey body for her reaction, but the mare just couldn’t bring herself to make such a weak excuse for hurting one of the people responsible for her recovery. “Come here, let me see,” she all but pleaded, her voice barely whisper as she reached out towards him.
The stallion raised a hoof to protest, but the hollow look on Elspeth’s face sent his heart reeling. He’d seen that sunken, distant look on ponies before. Standing there, with her eyes glazed over, she looked like an entirely different mare. Her eyes, as he’d learned, were often looking outward, absorbing everything with cautious curiosity, but the look she wore now was one of solemn self-reflection. He quickly decided that it was not a look that suited one such as her. Reluctantly, Big Mac relented and presented his face to Elspeth.
This is just like… back when I stabbed… Her hooves delicately traced the stallion’s slightly swollen face, taking great care around his injury. I couldn’t see what was real and I lost control. Elspeth’s face twitched, her muscles straining, fighting against an instinctual show of emotion.
“How about ah show ya around?”
“Yes, please. I’ve seen many farms in my travel, but I admit to understanding very little about how they actually make ends meet.”
Despite Big McIntosh’s explanation (and demonstration) of how the farm operated with so few farmhands, Elspeth still couldn’t quite process where the Apple’s income came from. Big Mac had mentioned selling in the local town, but she really doubted that the gold from that market alone would be enough to fund such a large operation. Each tree Mac bucked only made things more confusing for the mare.
Their tour of the orchard neared its end as the final apple trees on Mac’s route came into view. “Perhaps you’d like ta give it a shot?” He gestured towards the tree while smiling broadly at Elspeth. “Been buckin’ apples mah whole life ‘n I think ya got what it takes to finish off today’s haul.”
The pegasus looked at the tree, then back to the stallion. His smile, while genuine, was also playfully goading. The slightly lop-sided nature his expression put it right on the edge of being a smirk from her perspective. She’d been the one anxious to get up and about, so he was offering her a way to work off some of that pent-up pegasus energy. To refuse would be incredibly rude, but accepting was a surefire way to make a fool of herself.
“I’ll give it a try...” she answered hesitantly, rolling her shoulders as she trotted up to the grand apple tree.
Elspeth’s muscles ached from days of bed rest. Now, more than before, she could feel the fatigue building in her body. The pegasus did everything in her power to keep her head and ears up, but the mounting rigidness and dull throbs of her joints cast a shadow over her confidence.
She couldn’t tell if the tree was just larger than she had originally gauged or if it was all just her imagination projecting itself needlessly. Elspeth told herself that it was just her mind playing tricks on her, that this was just one of the first thought patterns she beat into submission as a knight of Bant.
But her body wouldn’t listen. Unneeded adrenaline wracked her body with tremors, her wings twitched madly, and her eyes darted to every little sound in the world around them.
No. She remembered. I’m in this pony form; I’m a prey animal. My fears, my anxiety… it’s all just fuel for my natural instincts to run away. Trembling, she positioned herself before her obstacle and took a deep breath. I am not afraid of this cursed tree; these damned heightened feelings will not ground me! Elspeth lowered her body and mimicked her companion’s stance as best as she could. She cast a quick glance towards the stallion.
Big Mac smiled back reassuringly.
Throwing caution to the wind, Elspeth coiled her back legs and let fly the stored energy in her limbs. Like powerful pneumatic pistons, her hooves crushed what was in their path and a surging heat cycled up through her body. The resounding crunch of bark echoed through the orchard.
“Whoa, nelly...” Mac gasped.
Elspeth failed spectacularly; not a single apple fell into the buckets.
After traveling with Big MacIntosh through the orchard all afternoon, Elspeth had become intimately familiar with the sound of apples dropping into the high-quality buckets placed at the base of their trees. In a way, the silence was to her cathartic. She sighed, her entire body sagging. This really is a new beginning, isn’t it? I don’t even have my martial prowess.
“Don’t worry ‘bout it none. Nopony gets it right the first time,” Big Mac encouraged as he trotted to Elspeth’s side. “How ‘bout’cha come to Ponyville with me? I could use some help at the market stall ‘n you can get acquainted with the town.”
Her response, a barely noticeable nod, was enough for Mac.
Elspeth didn’t even notice when the stallion stepped away and hitched himself to the cart loaded with today’s haul. He kept his partner occupied with small talk his warm, soothing smile never leaving his face. It was all he could do to keep her from looking back.
Afterall, how was he supposed to explain to her that she’d almost vaporized the tree’s trunk? Hay, how was he going to explain it to Applejack?
Twilight stomped about her study, each hoof-fall leaving behind a small spiderweb of cracks on the organic crystal floor. Her nostrils flared. She knew that she shouldn't vent on the mare before her. None of the was Rainbow's fault.
The damages to the floor had already self-repaired by the time Twilight made another lap around the room. “I don’t like this, Rainbow,” she declared harshly.
“And you think I do?” Rainbow Dash tossed her mane to the side. “Spying on AJ is horseapples, we both know that, but I’ve got my orders. First time since joining the Wonderbolts that I regret being one of the Readies,” she huffed.
Rubbing her face with a hoof, Twilight sighed. She knew how hard this had to be on Dash. The Ready Reaction Force was created to be rapid response unit dedicated to handling domestic incidents. Applejack being at the center that kind of attention was disconcerting. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to vent on you. It’s just… have you at least learned anything useful?”
“Hmm… kinda,” she started. “Applejack’s guest is named Elspeth; white pegasus mare, you can’t miss her. She was pretty heavily armored, but not armed at all. Wierd. She was messed up pretty bad, though. Heck, she could barely walk the last time I was at Sweet Apple Acres.” Rainbow winced as she recalled Elspeth’s injury.
Twilight sank down to her haunches, her body losing its tension. “That helps a lot, Dash. Thank you.”
“Oh, and the rebel states' minister will be meeting with the Princesses tomorrow.”
“WHAT?!”
Twilight cantered down into the castle’s laboratory, glad to have put her worries about her friend to rest. However, new concerns kept her from truly enjoying any peace Rainbow Dash’s intel could’ve given her. The mare needed to take her mind off of the mounting stress.
The buzz of electricity combined with ozone stink met her a moment before she turned the final corner to her lab. She giggled quietly, knowing instantly what the presence of those two things meant. “Good afternoon, Spike!”
Spike looked up from his work and slid his elegantly designed goggles onto his forehead. “‘Bout time you showed up, Twi!” he greeted, beaming at the mare as reached the last step.
She beamed right back, her mood instantly soaring from his nonchalant attitude. “How’s work on that research project of ours going?”
She took a seat next to him at the workstation, forcing him to scoot over and make space. “Work is such a harsh word, makes it sound like we don’t enjoy burning daylight down here,” he joked. Spike gestured towards the objects of Twilight’s curiosity. “Check it out. Nothing we did could get any sort of reaction out of them, but now… well...”
Fascinating,Twilight thought to herself.
Two teal orbs sat before the mare. Both pulsed in time with each other, their rhythm reminiscent of a heartbeat. From each, the mare could feel a slightly different thrum of magical power, giving the orbs their own identity distinct from one another. From one, Twilight felt a familiar warm hum, but the other… the alicorn wanted nothing to do with.
When she and Spike first discovered the pair of strange items several nights ago, mistook them for nothing more than an anomaly or possibly somepony’s lost possession. Two perfectly spherical cuts of jade were not something one usually found on the ground. Their original plan was to turn over their findings to town hall; however, that course of action was violently ejected out of the window, in their minds, when the two stone started to glow a few nights ago.
Since then, she and Spike had been side-by-side in a self-imposed research binge, barely stopping for anything short of important duties or personal upkeep. Within the crystalline walls of their castle, they toiled away, running through every magical experiment their genius minds could muster.
Twilight sat to the young dragon's side, astonished by the thoroughness of her young ward's work. Years prior, though the best assistant she could ask for, Spike was still a child. He was perfectly organized when duty called and capable of drafting up missives with near perfect grammar on a whim, but like all children, he was messy and irresponsible. Outside of his duties, he was impulsive and capricious, yet, at times, brilliant for a one his age. Twilight looked between the expertly recorded notes and Spike. He was busy occupying his time by spinning around in his seat while making animate, electrically charged clouds and fire-rings. The mare chuckled, he hadn’t really changed all that much, now that she thought about it. Now his random bouts of hyperactive curiosity and whimsical play seemed to fuel impassioned research and study. Twilight never expected a day to come when Spike would be able to outpace her in matters of magic or science, but that day had come and gone.
Beyond that, she was spending every moment she could spare just looking at Spike. The prior five years had been rough, mostly due to his mysterious disappearance for almost three and a half of them.
Spike had grown during the time he went missing. Before he'd been just a little taller than a filly or a colt, but now Spike stood almost an entire head over Twilight. His once cute, rounded spines were now thin blades that were every bit as deadly as they were intimidating. Replacing his stubby muzzle and chubby, kissable cheeks was an elongated maw filled to the brim with powerful flesh-rending, gem-grinding teeth.
Alongside his physical changes, his mana pool had also swelled. Twilight couldn’t accurately describe the feeling that Spike’s mana instilled within her; it was ice cold, yet burned the edges of her senses. His magic was like bottled lightning: pure, erratic, uncontrollable power; directed, but never commanded. Deeper still, she could feel as something at the dragon’s core reached down, deep into what their world’s leylines, not unlike a tree’s roots into the earth, and drank of its mana.
That was something else she had to get used to with the new Spike. His age. It was always easy to forget that the dragon was only four years younger than her back when he was the same height as kindergarten-age foals. It was still a challenge to wrap her mind around all of the changes.
Surprisingly, she had the hardest time coming to grips with what should have been the easiest to swallow development. Spike knew magic, and it just didn't make any sense to her. She could handle his newfound need to constantly be cloaked in elaborate red, blue, and gold pleather long-coats, but a dragon casting magic as easily as a unicorn was mind-blowing to the mare.
“Well I don’t quite understand what’s going on, so, when all else fails, just go for it!” Spike shouted excitedly as if it were some sort of universal tenet. The young dragon exhaled a stream of dragon fire into the palm of his right hand, coating the appendage in a wild, swirling mass of blue and red energies.
Lavender hooves ran through the oily, unkempt mess that Twilight’s mane had become since the start of their experimenting binge. She took a second to remove a few offending bangs from her face as she grunted in irritation.
“Spike, we can’t just start throwing magic around on a wing and a prayer!” Twilight shouted.
What she had failed to realize was that the orbs were slowly rolling towards the edge of the table.
“Hmm...”