Camaraderie is Sorcery

by FireOfTheNorth

Chapter 2:12 - The Apple Matriarch

Chapter 2:12 – The Apple Matriarch

Darkness shrouded Ponieville and the surrounding countryside, a thick layer of clouds obscuring the night sky and the stars Luna had meticulously arranged. She had taken over that task again after a thousand-year absence, along with raising and lowering the moon, and it had caused not some small measure of chaos on her first night of doing so. Celestia had kept the positions of the stars more or less constant during her time, and ponies had grown accustomed to seeing the same sky every night, relying on the constancy for help with navigation and the like. Luna now contented herself with making only minor changes, but even so, the night sky had never seemed so brilliant in the past millennium.

On their farm beyond Ponieville’s palisade, skirting the edge of the Everfree Forest, the Apples slept soundly, though some not as soundly as they’d have liked. All four of the family’s members were home now, which seemed more an exception than the rule as of late. Granny Smith and Apple Bloom were at the moment ignorant of the dire straits the family was in, but the other two had talked it over in depth. For a pony unable to read, Big McIntosh had a stunning head for numbers, and he’d shared his calculations with Applejack upon her return from Cant’r Laht. The summer and fall harvests had not been as bountiful as they’d expected, and the reason why was obvious. Applejack had been gone too much, but what was she to do? Twilight Sparkle and the other Brave Companions needed her: the anti-Element of Deceit had not been found yet. There was little she could do now, though, and little she could change. They needed a miracle if they were going to be able to pay their taxes to Mayor Mare. If they couldn’t, she’d take their land for sure, or at least a part of it, which is what she’d wanted for years.

Timberwolves howled in the distance, their cries carried away by the wind that rustled the freshly fallen snow. Those howls grew louder as the timberwolves grew closer, emerging from the Everfree Forest to stalk the Apples’ fields and orchards. Usually they wouldn’t do so unless driven by great hunger and boldness, but something unusual was going on. The wind shifted, bringing the howls to the Apple homestead and through the thickly insulated walls.

Granny Smith’s ears twitched upon hearing the howls, and her eyes creaked open. She had more years on her bones than most sorceresses, but all the same, she heaved herself out of her bed, bringing most of the thick blankets she’d been wrapped in with her. She shuffled to the kitchen and managed to grab some pans, tying them together and slinging them over her back, before trotting out into the snow.

The wind slammed the door shut, waking the rest of the Apples. Applejack and Big Mac jumped out of bed, racing downstairs and grabbing anything they could think to use as a weapon to defend themselves from brigands. Apple Bloom joined them, a spear held in her mouth. It had been something she and her friends had made, another idea on how to get their cutie-marks, and the head fell off as she wielded it. When there was no sign of intruders, the farmponies looked outside.

“Granny! Get back inside afore y’ catch y’r death!” Applejack yelled out into the blowing snow before grabbing a thick cloak to run out after her.

“Wait,” Big Mac said simply, looking up at the sky, as he put out a foreleg like a tree branch to block his sister.

A hole had opened in the clouds as the wind began to spin in a cyclone above a group of scraggly trees. Through it the moon was visible, oddly plain without the bust of a unicorn carved out in craters. The hole in the clouds seemed a window to somewhere else as the moon shimmered and changed color half a dozen times, casting that light down on the stand of trees. Snow melted from their branches and they seemed to revive from death, bark shifting from washed-out to healthy. The timberwolves charged toward the trees, seeking their wood to revitalize their own woody flesh. Granny Smith charged in as well, as fast as her feeble old legs could carry her, and threw down her pans. Picking one back up in her mouth, she began banging it against the other. The timberwolves pulled up short and threw themselves down, claws over their leafy ears to block out the noise. Eventually they would retreat back into the Everfree so long as the clamor kept up; they always had before when this had happened.

“A zap apple harvest,” Big Mac said with a sigh of relief as the others rushed to get pots and pans of their own. Maybe things would work out after all.

***

By dawn, the timberwolves were long gone, and the Apple homestead had returned more or less to normal. The timberwolves wouldn’t return until next harvest, but that didn’t mean the Apples could rest. Applejack and Big Mac were busy clearing away the snow around the trunks of the zap apple trees and erecting a temporary palisade around the grove to protect it from other wild creatures. The zap apple harvests came irregularly, sometimes years apart, but once the first sign appeared that one was coming, there were only a few days to prepare and much to do.

“I’m ready, Granny!” Apple Bloom reported to the aged pony seated in a chair covered with blankets inside the farmhouse.

“Ready? Wit fer?” Granny Smith asked.

“I’m ready t’ make zap apple jam with y’!” Apple Bloom exclaimed, having a difficult time standing still.

During the last zap apple harvest, she hadn’t been deemed old enough to help in the actual jam-making process, instead having to content herself with assisting in the picking of the magical fruit. This would be her first time helping Granny to make the zap apple jam, the first product the fruit offered up, and the product that was most difficult to make.

“Ah, o’ course,” Granny Smith said, levering herself up from her seat and nearly tripping over the blankets she scattered on the floor as she tottered away from it, “We ‘ad best git t’ work.”

“I can ‘ardly believe I get t’ help this time,” Apple Bloom said giddily, “I can’t wait!”

“Cannae wait?” Granny Smith said as she stopped and looked back at her chair in confusion, “Wit cannae ye nae wait fer?”

For makin’ zap apple jam, o’ course!” Apple Bloom said. Granny Smith, when she was conscious, was often forgetting things; nothing about the conversation was out of the ordinary for the old mare. So long as she still remembered how to make zap apple jam.

“O’ course. Why didnae ye say so fae th’ start?” Granny Smith replied as she resumed her trotting, “Now ah been makin’ this jam since ah wis a wee filly nae much older than ye. Zap apples be tricky. Ye have got t’ do a’thing just right t’ git jam.”

“I’m ready t’ learn, Granny,” Apple Bloom promised.

“Good, ye kin start by cleanin’ up so we kin make th’ jam,” Granny Smith said as she passed a broom to Apple Bloom, “Now, while ye be doin’ that, ah goat t’ do … somethin’.”

Apple Bloom set to sweeping as Granny Smith returned to her chair and closed her eyes, asleep a few seconds later. Outside, Applejack and Big Mac paused in construction of the palisade as the wind suddenly shifted in the opposite directions, bringing a smell like cinnamon. Immediately they ran as quickly as they could from the stand of zap apple trees, seeking cover. The clouds above the grove darkened until it seemed that night fell over the trees. A blue-tinted lightning bolt shot down at each tree in the same instant, leaving an afterimage on the eyes of anypony looking in that direction. The zap apple trees appeared unaffected by the lightning, at least in the way that trees struck by such bolts would usually be affected. Small arcs of lightning continued to trail over the trees’ branches as purple-green leaves sprouted on them. Applejack and Big Mac warily returned to the grove, waiting for the sparks to die down before resuming work on the palisade. Apple Bloom goggled from the farmhouse’s window for a few minutes before returning to her sweeping, with Granny Smith snoring in the background.

***

“Ugh, why do we have to walk all the way out into the countryside?” Diamond Tiara complained as she trotted alongside her father, “Reynaud says that in Los Pegasus, wealthy merchants go about in sedan chairs and carriages.”

“Because, Diamond Tiara, we must check in with the Apples to remind them of our agreement. Not that I believe for one moment that they’d back out on us or try to cheat me, but it never hurts to check on your investments,” Filthy Rich expounded.

I’ll have to speak to Reynaud about what ideas he puts in the filly’s head. The private tutor he’d hired from Los Pegasus had certainly proven himself an effective educator, but it seemed his (doubtlessly exaggerated) stories of how the nobles and wealthy lived in Los Pegasus had puffed up Diamond Tiara’s head even more than it had been before he’d come. If she were to take over the family business one day, she would need to understand that Ponieville and Los Pegasus were two very different places. Maybe ponies of high standing in the west really did travel about in sedan chairs and carriages, but Los Pegasus also had paved streets, something entirely absent from Ponieville. Filthy Rich was also no fool; he may have been the richest pony in Ponieville by far, but that wealth would barely match that of a Los Pegasan merchant of even moderate standing.

The two ponies approached the Apples’ homestead, the gates open wide. Filthy Rich waved off the guards following them; he wasn’t worried about threats from the family that lived here. The farmyard itself was abandoned, but there was a path cleared through the snow that led through another gate in the palisade and out to the grove of zap apple trees, with its own palisade now. Applejack and Big McIntosh were nowhere to be found, the two of them busily assembling supplies in town. When they’d arrived with their odd requests and word had gotten to Filthy Rich, he’d known a zap apple harvest was coming. From past experience, he’d learned trying to speak to them while they were about their business was an exercise in futility, so he’d come here instead, to speak to somepony he’d known for many years.

“Well met, Mistress Smith,” he called out to the elderly mare cantering around one of the zap apple trees.

Apple Bloom too was running in circles, with all the youthful exuberance that Granny Smith was too old to muster anymore. Granny Smith heeded Filthy Rich’s greeting and trotted away from the tree toward him and Diamond Tiara. She attempted to, anyway, but her path was unsteady after going in circles for so long.

“Ach, welcome Bloody Rich,” Granny Smith replied as she steadied herself (mostly), “Have ye come tae see th’ zap apple trees?”

“Yes, I have, although Bloody Rich was my grandfather,” Filthy Rich corrected her, not for the first time, “I am Filthy Rich.”

“O’ course, Filthy,” Granny Smith said, and the stallion cringed inwardly, “Ah swear ah’d lose mae heed if t’weren’t attached tae mae neck!”

“Actually, I prefer to go by Filthy Rich, or Sir Rich if you like.”

That was a recent development, and probably one he should be careful in touting. His honorary knighthood had been bestowed by Mayor Mare, who technically didn’t have the authority to do anything of the sort. She was playing a dangerous game by undermining Celestia’s authority, and she only seemed to have become more brazen since the ancient sorceress’s apprentice moved in. He’d play her games, but only so long as he thought she could get away with it, or if he could escape the repercussions. So far, her gambles had only been to his benefit, and he hoped it would remain that way. At the moment, she had the upper hoof in their relationship, but that wouldn’t last forever. One day, his family would exert more influence, and then he’d be the one telling her how to jump.

“If ye say so, Filthy Rich,” Granny Smith said. Likely she’d forgotten him mentioning his new title already, and that was another reason he’d felt it okay to reveal it to her.

“The zap apple harvest will be soon, yes?” Filthy Rich asked as he gestured to the odd trees around them, “And I get the first hundred jars of zap apple jam?”

“O’ course, Filthy,” Granny Smith said, and the stallion frowned.

While he tried to carry on a conversation with the elderly matriarch of the Apple family, who forgot his name or what they were talking about every few sentences, his daughter trotted off to prey on Apple Bloom. Apple Bloom had continued galloping around her assigned tree during the first part of the conversation, but now she was stumbling away from it. She fell to the ground heavily, and shot Diamond Tiara a glare when she snickered.

“Oh, you poor soul,” the spoiled filly said mockingly before sniffing haughtily, “Well, I suppose somepony has to make zap apple jam with Granny Smith, what with your sister abandoning you so often.”

“I’m glad t’ help wi’ th’ zap apple jam. Actually, I’ve been lookin’ forward t’ it for years,” Apple Bloom said, biting back a response to the second part of Diamond Tiara’s jab. That Applejack had been absent from the family more and more since Twilight Sparkle had come to town had become Diamond Tiara’s new favorite reminder. Protesting that Applejack was doing important things with the other Brave Companions for the good of the realm and for Equestria as a whole would have no effect on her. Better to simply ignore her if she could.

“It’s not the jam I’d be worried about, but Granny Smith,” Diamond Tiara said with a sniff.

“What d’you mean?” Apple Bloom asked, eyes narrowing.

“Surely you’ve noticed,” Diamond Tiara scoffed, “She’s always forgetting things, and she makes you do such ridiculous stuff.”

“No she doesn’t,” Apple Bloom protested as she tried to get up, prompty falling back down, head still spinning from her laps around the zap apple tree, “Granny said that w’ have t’ run ‘round th’ trees so that-”

You must be glad that you’re out here in the middle of nowhere and not in the Ponieville square where everypony can see,” Diamond Tiara spoke over her, “Don’t you worry, I won’t tell anypony what’s going on out here … today, anyway.”

“Diamond Tiara, come. We’re headed back to town,” Filthy Rich called, and Diamond Tiara departed with a mischievous smile, leaving Apple Bloom to ponder what she’d said.

***

Her fears of Granny Smith’s odd ways embarrassing her (which she’d never really thought of before) faded quickly, even if she did notice them more now. Apple Bloom didn’t like Diamond Tiara much at all, but she had to admit that she was right about one thing. Granny Smith hardly ever left the Apples’ land, so she wasn’t likely to have much of an opportunity to embarrass her.

Her thoughts were back on the zap apple harvest in no time, and stayed there even the next day when she was in Ponieville. Sister Cheerilee was giving lessons today, and even with preparations for the zap apple harvest in full swing, Applejack still insisted she be here instead of on the farm. Apple Bloom desperately wanted to be back there, helping out and getting ready to make zap apple jam, and she wasn’t paying much attention to Sister Cheerilee.

“Apple Bloom, have you been listening?” the nun asked pointedly, and Apple Bloom looked up in surprise to see her looming above her.

“O’ course, Sister Cheerilee,” Apple Bloom lied.

“Mm-hmm, then perhaps you could summarize today’s reading?” Cheerilee responded.

“Well, umm,” Apple Bloom said as she tried to remember anything, “I s’pose I may have let m’ mind drift a bit.”

“I see,” Cheerilee said, “Our reading today was about King Durnan’s coronation, and how he sought out the elders, trusting in their wisdom. Your granddam lives with you, does she not? Do you trust in her wisdom, Apple Bloom?”

“Granny Smith isn’t m’ granddam,” Apple Bloom said, “I s’pose so.” She didn’t think Cheerilee would appreciate hearing about Granny Smith’s quirks, and she certainly wasn’t going to bring them up with other fillies and colts her own age around after what Diamond Tiara had said.

“Perhaps she could share her wisdom with the rest of us tomorrow,” Cheerilee suggested.

“Oh, no,” Apple Bloom said, “Granny Smith doesn’t travel much from th’ farm, an’ it’s th’ middle o’ preparations for th’ zap apple harvest.”

“Perhaps we could visit her there, then,” Cheerilee said.

“Well … I … um,” Apple Bloom sputtered, trying to come up with an excuse, but finding none she was convinced would satisfy Cheerilee.

The rest of Cheerilee’s lessons for the day passed quickly, but Apple Bloom continued to have trouble concentrating, for a different reason this time. Diamond Tiara’s visit had made her nervous to have anypony encounter Granny Smith. She spent most of her time sleeping, except during the zap apple harvests, it seemed. When she was awake, she had all the peculiarities that Apple Bloom never seemed to have minded before. Not until Diamond Tiara had brought it up had she really seen it or been so worried about the opinions of her peers.

“What’s the matter, Apple Bloom?” Sweetie Belle asked as they left the Ponieville Chapel.

“Y’ know how Granny Smith can be a bit … odd?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Last time I met her, she tried to make me wear a plate as a hat,” Scootaloo said, “Usually she’s asleep.”

“She’s not asleep now, not as much as usual, anyway,” Apple Bloom said, “I’m afraid she may try t’ make e’rypony wear a plate as a hat … or worse.”

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad, Apple Bloom,” Sweetie Belle tried to reassure her, “You’ll see. Maybe the harvest will be ready tomorrow and she won’t have time anyway.”

“Well, well, well,” Diamond Tiara said as she snuck up on the trio from behind, “What’s this I hear about your Granny Smith sharing her ‘wisdom’ with your little class?”

“‘Tis none o’ your business, Diamond Tiara!” Apple Bloom snapped, “Don’t y’ have a fancy private tutor t’ go t’?”

“Yes, actually, though I wouldn’t want to miss out on learning what Granny Smith has to teach,” Diamond Tiara said sarcastically, “Isn’t that right, Silver Spoon?”

“We wouldn’t miss it,” her lackey said, both of them with matching cruel smiles.

Apple Bloom tried to protest, but she knew it was a futile effort. If only Diamond Tiara hadn’t planted the idea of Granny Smith embarrassing her in her head in the first place, then she wouldn’t have worried. Having all the ponies she sat down with at Sister Cheerliee’s lessons witness it was bad enough, but to also have these two fillies that constantly tormented her and her friends there was too much. She had to find some way to prevent this visit from happening. She had to.

***

“Apple Bloom, there’s no way t’ make th’ harvest go faster. Y’ know that. Zap apples are ready when they’re ready, an’ there’s no predictin’ when that’ll be,” Applejack told her later, in the midst of preparations for the harvest.

“I know,” Apple Bloom said with a sigh.

She’d seen several zap apple harvests in her lifetime, and apart from the clear signs that were repeated every time, each one was different. Sometimes days passed between the signs, sometimes only hours. She remembered two harvests ago when they’d come so fast that all the preparations for the jam weren’t ready in time and they had been left with a much-decreased stock to sell. Things were moving fast this harvest, but maybe not fast enough to prevent Granny Smith from having time the next day to speak to her class.

“Why are y’ so worried about this?” Applejack asked her.

She was spared from having to answer as the calls of crows filled the air. Ever since the first sign of the zap apple harvest, they’d seemed drawn to the grove, though they never actually roosted in the zap apple trees. Now they all took off at once, causing snow to fall from the surrounding orchards as they converged over the zap apple orchard. At the same time, the ground beneath the ponies’ hooves began to roll like waves at sea, crashing against the trunks of the zap apple trees. Geysers of blue flame that never burned anything sprouted up in places where the ground cracked open. Lights of the same color pulsed up through the zap apple trees’ trunks and spread out along the branches and through the leaves. In places, tiny buds began to open, lightning coursing along their petals as they unfolded. Only a few minutes after it had started, the third sign ended, the crows departed, and the ground returned to normal.

As Applejack admired the zap apple blooms, Apple Bloom snuck away. Her friends were waiting for her a short distance outside the zap apple grove’s palisade. They looked expectantly at Apple Bloom, but their heads fell when she shook her head. It wasn’t they who were worried about Granny Smith’s actions in front of Sister Cheerilee’s students, but this was a big deal to their friend, so they had to take this seriously too. They wouldn’t be the Cutie Mark Crusaders if they didn’t stand together.

“Cheer up, Apple Bloom,” Scootaloo said as they trotted together, “I’m sure we can think of something.”

“I sure hope so,” Apple Bloom said glumly, “I wish Sistah Cheerilee had never had this idea.”

“Sister Cheerliee!” Sweetie Belle exclaimed.

“What, y’ got an idea?” Apple Bloom said excitedly.

“No, but … look!” Sweetie Belle said, swallowing heavily as she pointed down the path to Ponieville.

It was difficult to tell for sure at this distance, but the fillies knew only one violet pony in a nun’s habit who would be venturing through the countryside around Ponieville. So far, Apple Bloom had avoided telling anypony on the farm, but once Cheerilee spoke with Granny Smith about it, there would be no chance of getting out of having her speak to the other fillies and colts. Unless, of course, Granny Smith told Cheerilee that she wouldn’t speak to the class. Small chance of that, however. Granny Smith never seemed short of words around Apple Bloom, when she was awake anyways. When she’s awake …

“Girls, I’ve got an idea!” Apple Bloom said excitedly as she recalled Granny Smith was currently napping in the farmhouse, “We have t’ hurry, though!”

The fillies hurried off before Cheerilee caught sight of them and had long vanished by the time she reached the Apples’ homestead. She paused to accept Applejack’s thanks for her efforts in educating Ponieville’s youth and to get directions to Granny Smith before continuing to the farmhouse. Applejack had told her to go on in, but she still knocked before entering the home. Granny Smith was seated in her chair, blankets covering her and spilling onto the floor around her, a dark bonnet shadowing her eyes.

“Mistress Smith?” Cheerilee asked, unsure if the pony before her was awake or asleep.

“Ooh, aye, ye moost be Sistah Cheer’lee,” Scootaloo mimicked Granny Smith from behind the chair.

“Granny Smith doesn’t talk like that,” Apple Bloom objected under her breath.

“Sure she does,” Scootaloo whispered back, “Besides, Cheerilee’s never met her, so how would she know the difference?”

Sweetie Belle shushed the pair from her precarious position under the blankets atop Granny Smith, trying to move the elderly mare’s jaw to match Scootaloo’s words.

“What was that?” Cheerilee asked.

“Ah asked whay ye haeft come here,” Scootaloo carried on, “’Tis zap apple season ye know, an’ wae all be mighty busy.”

“Yes, of course, Apple Bloom said as much,” Cheerilee said with a slight bow of her head, her ear twitching beneath her coif as she sensed something fishy was going on but couldn’t quite place it, “Where is Apple Bloom?”

“She probably be oot workin’ in thae fields,” Scootaloo said, “Whay haeft ye come here?”

“I had hoped Apple Bloom would be here to talk to you as well, but no matter,” Cheerilee said, “Mistress Smith, I would like to ask you to speak to the foals under my tutelage tomorrow about some of the wisdom you’ve learned in your years.”

“Taemarry! Ampossable!” Scootaloo said, her false accent growing more ridiculous by the minute, “Wae’ve goat tae harvest thae zap aepples afore they ael be bad’uns! Ah’ll bae far tae busy tae talk tae anypony!”

“I see,” Sister Cheerilee said, “Perhaps another time.” Why won’t my ear seize that infernal twitching?

The nun turned and left the farmhouse, trying to think of a suitable substitute for the next day’s lessons. As she departed, Apple Bloom and Scootaloo congratulated each other silently behind the chair. As they did so, they bumped the chair, upsetting Sweetie Belle’s balance. She pitched back, bringing most of the blankets with her as well as nearly taking Granny Smith as well.

“Eh, whit?” the elderly mare said as she was jolted awake and saw the farmhouse door closing, “Visitors?”

Sweetie Belle tried to stay still in the pile of blankets as Granny Smith trotted by. She moved to the door surprisingly swiftly for her age. Cheerilee hadn’t made it far by the time she opened the door and spotted her.

“Haw, ye must be Sistah Cheerilee,” Granny called out and Apple Bloom cringed.

“Um, yes?” Cheerilee said as she turned back, puzzled.

“What brings ye all the way oot here?” Granny Smith asked, puzzling Cheerilee even further.

“I came … to ask you if I you would be willing to speak to the foals under my tutelage tomorrow about the wisdom you’ve accumulated,” Cheerilee repeated herself, “I regret that you haven’t the time.”

“Balderdash!” Granny Smith exclaimed, “Ah wouldnae miss th’ chance tae share me experiences wi’ th’ wee fillies an’ colts.”

“Oh, well … if you say so,” Cheerilee said uncertainly, and started to trot away.

“Ah do say so,” Granny Smith replied, “See ye tomorrow, Sistah!”

Inside, Apple Bloom groaned. There was no hope now.

***

“Face it, girls, we’re never goin’ t’ think o’ somethin’,” Apple Bloom sighed later, hooves over her head.

“Don’t give up hope, Apple Bloom,” Sweetie Belle tried to console her, though things looked pretty hopeless from her perspective as well.

The three of them were sitting on the roof of a granary, looking out at the zap apple grove. To the west, the sky was darkening orange and crimson, the sun nearly out of sight. If Sweetie Belle didn’t return to Ponieville soon, her parents would worry, but she wanted to stick around as long as she could to help Apple Bloom. Scootaloo lounged nearby, having given up hope shortly before Apple Bloom had.

“I’m goin’ t’ have t’ live with Granny Smith makin’ a fool o’ herself an’ me,” Apple Bloom said despondently, “Unless she’s asleep.”

“Or, unless the zap apple harvest is happening!” Sweetie Belle said sharply, sitting up abruptly.

Something was going on out in the orchard, and Scootaloo also sat up to get a better view. The trees seemed almost to be quivering and the clouds over the grove circled, wisps trailing off. For a moment, the stars seemed to whirl as well before snapping back into position. Lightning coursed up and down the trunks of the zap apple trees, and the blossoms were singed to ash. In seconds, everywhere there had been a blossom, a fully formed apple appeared, dangling from the branches.

“Come on!” Sweetie Belle called excitedly as she hurried down from the granary roof and across the farmyard, startling Applejack.

Scootaloo quickly followed, jumping from the roof and flapping her wings, which did little to slow her fall into a pile of snow. As she dug herself free, Apple Bloom climbed down herself, head still hanging in defeat. She trotted over to join the others in the zap apple orchard, where they were marveling at the trees. Zap apples hung on every tree, looking exactly like regular apples except for their shiny gray skins.

“Are they supposed to look like that?” Scootaloo asked doubtfully.

“They’re not ripe, yet.” Apple Bloom said despondently. There was a little more hope now that the harvest would come quickly enough, but still not enough to raise Apple Bloom’s spirits.

“So, picking them early should be fine, right?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Maybe, but I don’t know,” Apple Bloom said, “Zap apples aren’t like normal apples.”

“It’ll be fine,” Scootaloo tried to assure her as she trotted up to the nearest tree.

The lightning that had recently surrounded the trees seemed to still be in the air, tugging at wisps of the pegasus’s mane as she approached. She considered how the Apples knocked the fruit down from their trees before charging the trunk. At the last moment, she spun to buck the tree, much less gracefully than Applejack, but her wings helped correct her trajectory. As soon as her hindhooves connected with the tree’s trunk, she was thrown away, all her hair standing on end. Lightning coursed up and down the trunk for a few seconds after Scootaloo had been rebuffed.

“You okay?” Sweetie Belle asked, and Scootaloo nodded, shaking the fuzz from her head as she rose.

“Maybe apple buckin’ is a bad idea,” Apple Bloom considered as she looked at the trees, “We could just try t’ pick ‘em, though.”

The Cutie Mark Crusaders had to do a little searching before they found a tree with low-enough hanging fruit. Standing on each other’s backs and careful not to touch the trunk of the tree, Apple Bloom was able to reach one of the zap apples. If she needed any other proof that they weren’t ripe than the color, the way the skin rebuffed her teeth and eventually gave without breaking when she did manage to get a grip confirmed it. She tried to pull the apple free, but the stem stubbornly held on to its branch without giving a hair. Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle also tried to help, pulling Apple Bloom toward the ground, but the zap apple remained fixed.

Panting, the trio fell to the ground after it became clear the zap apple wouldn’t budge until it was ready to be picked. They tried a few others, with the same results. As Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle returned to Ponieville, rushing to make it before last light, Apple Bloom returned to the farmhouse. Her only hope now was for the zap apple harvest to come quickly. Somehow, she had the feeling that she wouldn’t be so lucky.

***

The zap apples still weren’t ripe the following dawn, and as the morning passed, they showed no sign of being ready soon. Apple Bloom tried to concentrate on her work, helping Granny Smith prepare for the jam-making, but she couldn’t take her mind off the inevitable moment that Cheerilee would arrive with the other foals from Ponieville. She’d tried everything she could think of, including asking Applejack and Big Mac to speak instead, but that had done her no favors. Once Applejack had heard, she’d insisted that she be on her best behavior for Sister Cheerilee and that she and Big Mac would take care of everything, so Granny Smith would have plenty of time to speak.

At last, the inevitable came. It was only mid-morning when Sister Cheerilee arrived at the Apples’ home, a gaggle of fillies and colts following her, including Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, Diamond Tiara, and Silver Spoon. Apple Bloom was glad to see her friends, but the other two made her stomach drop.

“I can’t wait to hear what Granny Smith has to say,” Diamond Tiara said, then loudly whispered, “If she can stay awake long enough or remember where she is.”

“Mistress Smith, what would you like to tell our little ponies?” Cheerilee asked as she directed a stern look at Diamond Tiara.

“Hmm, let’s see,” Granny Smith mused, and Apple Bloom was afraid she might be nodding off, “Och, ah ken whit tae tell ye. Th’ zap apples af jogged me memory. Ah kin tell ye aboot when ah discovered ‘em. Ah was just a wee yin then, barely older’n any o’ ye. ‘Twasnae long after we first arrived ‘ere.”

“Ye see, wars in Haeldom had forced me family tae search for a new home. We made wur way tae Cant’r Laht, searchin’ for some place tae settle down an’ tend th’ land. ‘Twas there that Celestia herself in all her majesty came tae speak tae me father …”

***

Year 774 of the 4^th Age

“Your Grace, the Lodge begs you to reconsider your decision,” Count Bracer pleaded with Celestia as he trotted alongside her through the streets of Cant’r Laht.

The sorcerer flinched as Celestia looked down at him but didn’t slow his canter to keep up with her long stride. Bracer was the current advisor the Lodge of Sorceresses had foisted upon her, which meant he was the one who most commonly voiced their disagreements with every action Celestia took. Celestia hadn’t always had an advisor from the Lodge; she could remember a time when she hadn’t had to put up with one … several centuries ago. I think I’ve put up with this nonsense long enough. The advisor will have to go, and soon.

“Might I remind you that it is none of the Lodge’s business what I do with my own lands,” Celestia told the sorcerer quite firmly.

The lands in question had once belonged to a now-extinct noble family whose seat was in Cant’r Laht. When the last member of the family had died out heirless, their lands had passed to the Lodge, but after nearly seven decades of quibbling over which of their members would receive them, they had eventually passed the lands on to Celestia. Besides multiple claims, there was the problem that many did not know what to do with the lands. Though on a clear day, they could be seen from Cant’r Laht, the acres were far outside its sphere of influence. The Equestry Valley was a patchwork of petty kingdoms constantly in some conflict or another with each other, and these lands were right at the heart, bordering the Everfree Forest to boot. Only the threat of Celestia bringing down her wrath had stopped them from being seized years ago, though nopony in them had recognized rulership of anypony from Cant’r Laht even before the lands had passed to the Lodge.

“Yes, but to pass the lands to … commoners,” Count Bracer said as he sweated nervously, “The Lodge assumed that you would grant those lands some day to a distinguished Cant’r Laht House.”

It was unorthodox what Celestia was doing, but she was a rather unorthodox ruler. No Cant’r Laht noble would ever have the strength or focus to truly hold lands in the Equestry Valley under their sway, surrounded on all sides by enemies and monsters. Neither could Celestia afford to have her own guard hold lands that were largely uninhabited and untended. If some of that land were tended, however, then the rest of it could be ruled and survive off the taxes and produce. Perhaps it could even prove as a hoofhold to expand Cant’r Laht’s dominions into the Equestry Valley. The land was in an advantageous location, the possession of which would allow control of trade through the Equestry Valley itself.

Certain compromises and departures from orthodoxy would be required to make this work, of course. This Apple family would have no feudal lord but Celestia herself, though they would have to answer in certain matters to a regional administrator appointed by the ancient sorceress. In many ways, they would have much more freedom than the average peasant farmer in Equestria, enjoying a status only slightly less than a freeholder. She couldn’t simply give them the land to freehold, of course; for her plan to work, they had to remain subservient to the Matron of Sorceresses in Cant’r Laht. Celestia was still taking a risk, but it was one she was confident would pay off.

“You may inform the Lodge of Sorceresses that I care not one whit what they think in this matter, and they may as well jump off the Titan’s Horn as continue to try to sway me when I’ve made my decision,” Celestia told Bracer, and her advisor really did stumble in shock this time.

Let the Lodge think on that. I still rule in Cant’r Laht, and I doubt they’ve forgotten how I became Matron of Sorceresses in the first place. Celestia passed through a gate in Cant’r Laht’s wall, the city watch saluting sharply. Nearby was a sprawling city of tents set up on the small outcropping of land from the Titan’s Horn that hadn’t been eaten up by the Ivory City. Time to give them the good news.

***

Year 1001 of the 4^th Age

“Celestia granted wur fam’ly th’ land we still tend t’day,” Granny Smith continued, “Her grant gave us th’ right tae settle here an’ tend this land so long as we’re able tae, answerin’ tae none but th’ great sorceress ‘erself. O’ course, we still had tae settle th’ land, an’ it wasnae easy. We nearly starved, an’ e’en when we didn’t, we were all aloon. ‘Til, that is, I discovered th’ zap apples …”

***

Year 779 of the 4^th Age

Ginger knew that the Everfree forest was forbidden, but she wouldn’t sit idly by while her family starved. So many of the Apples had already died since coming here, but their family was not one to give up easily, and she was an Apple through and through. The clan was a large one, and it took her considerable time to sneak through the farmstead that was practically a village itself. A first and a second cousin of hers stood watch at the eastern gate of the compound, but they were both snoring, one of them leaning on his spear and the other lounging against the palisade. It wasn’t good, but it was fortunate, as it allowed her to sneak out without trying to clamber over the sharpened logs that surrounded the complex.

Many years from now, Ginger would marry Juniper, a smith that would join the Apple clan and do all the metalworking they needed for many years. Even later, the two of them would be given the monikers Grandsire and Granny Smith by their foals’ foals, a name that stuck with Ginger for generations after her husband’s passing. For now, though, Ginger was merely a foal who wished to help her family and was willing to risk her life to do so.

There were animals in the Everfree Forest, both monstrous and not, and they couldn’t all survive only by eating each other. That meant that something had to grow here, and if she was lucky, then it would be edible for ponies too. She searched through the forest, careful to mark her way back so that she wouldn’t be trapped here forever. There were unsettling sounds all around her, but still the filly pressed on, determined to find something that would provide for her family at least until next harvest.

What she found was a cluster of the most peculiar trees she’d ever seen. Their trunks seemed almost to be glowing, with flickers of light within. Deep gouges scored many of them, made by some beast’s claws. Though the season for apples was long past, the fruit weighed down many of the branches, though they were as strange as the trees they grew on. Their skins were shiny and gray, unlike any kind of apple this member of the Apple family had ever seen.

Ginger couldn’t afford to be choosy, so she set out to pick the apples. Once she brought them back to the farm, she could figure out how to prepare them. As she approached the trees, she felt a tingle run throughout her whole body. With a shock, she realized that her hooves were no longer touching the ground; she was floating, though by flailing her limbs, she was able to make contact with the earth briefly. All around her, gravity seemed to be losing its hold, allowing every loose piece of forest debris to hover just above the ground. The air itself seemed to hum, and the apples began to glow a pale white light.

Ginger noticed that the forest had gone silent, all the creatures either having fled or quieted themselves, and she worried that she’d trotted headlong into something dangerous. The sky above her head grew suddenly clear of clouds, and she gasped audibly as an aurora flashed through every color in the spectrum. As it did, the apples too shifted colors too quickly to follow, until with a flash, their skins became striped in a rainbow pattern and their stems twisted into the shape of lightning bolts. Ginger felt something run through her, suffusing her whole body as the apples changed, before dropping to the ground.

After determining that she was unharmed, she picked herself up off the ground and looked in awe at the trees. The apples certainly looked more palatable now than they had before. Other than the few around her that had burst, that is. She picked up the seeds of those, tucking them away in her saddlebags to plant these strange trees outside the forest, before setting to work picking the apples from the trees. By morning, she would return home with stuffed saddlebags and the start of a unique and very profitable crop for the Apple family.

***

Year 1001 of the 4^th Age

“‘Twere th’ only seeds th’ zap apples ever gave. Ah planted an’ tended ‘em an’ learned how tae treat these strange trees,” Granny Smith told the foals, who were all listening in rapt attention now, “Zap apples are nae like other apples, an’ require all kinds o’ special care, oar they willnae give a good crop. Ah learned through th’ years all th’ strange ways needed tae grow ‘em. Ah discovered how tae make jam an’ cider an’ all th’ other wondrous things that can be made from th’ zap apples. Word o’ this strange fruit spread, an’ soon other ponies began tae settle near us.”

“One o’ them ponies was yer great-great-great-great-great-grandsire, Stinkin’ Rich,” Granny Smith said as she pointed at Diamond Tiara, taking the filly by surprise, “He was a great friend o’ our fam’ly, why he an’ ‘is kin are th’ only ones outside th’ fam’ly allowed tae sell our zap apple jam. More an’ more ponies came an’ settled t’gether in Ponieville, a new town, an’ soon we had neighbors all ‘round. Things have changed ‘round ‘ere a lot in th’ past two hundred years, an’ I seen it all.”

Oohs and ahs came from the colts and fillies seated on the floor around Granny Smith’s seat as she concluded her tale. Sister Cheerliee sat in quiet contemplation. Could her story really be true? It wasn’t quite what she’d expected, but it gave her plenty to think about. Nothing about it seemed wrong, yet Granny Smith was making an unbelievable claim in that she’d been there since before Ponieville had even existed.

“Th’ zap apples are ready!” Granny Smith suddenly shouted as she felt a tingle in her joints.

Hurrying to her hooves as best she could, she sped to the door, some of the foals scrambling to help her. A hum filled the air and the zap apple grove glowed, an aurora forming in the sky over it. Many of the foals rushed to see, only to be held back by Applejack and Big Mac from getting too close as the palisade stakes began to shake and try to break free of gravity. Most of them, even Diamond Tiara, would end up helping with the first zap apple harvest, inspired by Granny Smith’s tale of how important these trees and their fruit were to the very existence of their home.

As they rushed to the orchard, nopony seemed to notice the sorceress standing by the door. Twilight Sparkle had come to the Apples’ farm to study the zap apple harvest, which she’d never heard of but knew that magic had to be involved somehow. She’d caught most of Granny Smith’s speech, and like Cheerilee, was stunned by what she’d heard. It simply can’t be true. Granny Smith nearly 230 years old? No sorceress apart from Celestia and Luna have lived so long in millennia, and they’re both alicorns! How? How could this be possible? What secrets is Granny Smith hiding?

Comments

[Snowdrifter]

Ginger "Granny" Smiith Apple

Actually immortal, faking senility.

Better watch out for this pone.