> Reincarnation beats cider for forgetting what you did last night > by StrangeCreature > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > A beautiful day > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Apple Bloom had spent the day running around town with the Crusaders, trying to get their cutie marks in one thing after another. It was summer vacation and Applejack had given her the day off from chores so they had had plenty of time to try everything they could think of. They had started out at Carousel Boutique, trying for cooking, until the second fire when Rarity had forced them out, after which they got breakfast at Sugarcube Corner with their pooled allowances. Scootaloo told them about a new program at the library she had found out about when Rainbow Dash stopped there to pick up the newest Daring Do novel. The library had an instrument lending program now. Anypony could walk in and ask Twilight for an instrument to try out for a few days. The trio decided their previous attempts at musical cutie marks must have failed because they hadn’t tried the right instruments, and headed over right away. Twilight greeted them with a genuine smile that became strained when they told her what they were looking for, but she still showed them to the new instruments. Sweetie Belle’s eyes lit up when they landed on the keytar, Apple Bloom’s widened when she saw the mandolin, and Scootaloo decided she wanted to try bugling. Twilight made it very clear that they weren’t allowed to play in the library, and encouraged them to practice outside of town. She wouldn’t lie and say it was illegal for them to try to learn in town, but she did remind them the local police had been given full discretion to deal with any crusader related incidents inside of Ponyvillle limits as they saw fit. It took multiple attempts to communicate this, but eventually Sweetie Belle took the hint and said they should try playing at the club house instead. Scootaloo brought them out on her scooter, racing towards it at top speed. They had done this enough times that Big Mac had wrapped mats around the trunk of a tree near the club house so they could crash into something soft. Despite this, and the other two protesting that they needed to be careful with their instruments, Scootaloo refused to slow down, insisting she was entirely in control. Naturally, they slammed into the tree at full speed. Fortunately, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle had both seen this coming and bailed out with the instruments in their jaws or atop their backs. Scootaloo peeled herself off Mac’s mats and landed back on four hooves, sheepish, but otherwise unharmed. The trio raised the greatest cacophony the woods had heard since the time they had accidentally dropped a beehive on Rarity’s head while she was walking under a tree with Fluttershy. Fluttershy was only able to talk the bees down after Rarity had stopped screaming, and her hair had been completely soaked through with honey. Scootaloo’s attempts at Reveille alone didn’t match it, but with Apple Bloom’s attempts at translating her sister’s fiddle tunes to mandolin and Sweetie Belle’s striking at keys, the woods were louder than they had ever been before. Sitting in her castle, Twilight heard the faintest hint of this and congratulated herself for managing to get the trio out of town, where Octavia wouldn’t try to murder them for crimes against music. After exhausting themselves on their instruments, even passing them around to make sure none of them had a chance with any of the others’, the crusaders decided to find a new plan. Apple Bloom suggested “lutering”. Sweetie Belle eventually worked out she meant luthiery, building and repairing stringed instruments. Apple Bloom had heard it from a phone call Applejack had made with a cousin in Manehattan. Scootaloo was open to breaking the mandolin, but was bored of being in the club house, so repairing it was out. Instead, Sweetie Belle suggested they try some cloud busting, getting them out of the clubhouse and leaving the instruments unharmed. The first task was to find some clouds left over. Making sure the skies were clear whenever possible was the weather patrol’s main job; Rainbow Dash might have preferred napping to working, but she was still plenty thorough. The three put their heads together and decided that some fog could probably be found around the edges of the Everfree, and as such it was worth visiting. With a cry of “Cutie Mark Crusader weather workers!” they headed for the forest proper. The trees were tall, the shadows were deep, the leaves lay thick on the ground, and any sensible ponies would have been very very frightened. The Crusaders were absolutely confident as they blundered forth into the deep green depths. They had to abandon the scooter before they got too deep into the woods since the wheels didn’t roll over the grass smoothly, but the three had legs and were willing to use them. The further they went from the edge the deeper the shadows got and the higher the trees rose. Only a few beams of light snuck between leaves to reach the forest floor by the time they found what they were looking for. The ground started to sink and suck at their hooves. They had arrived exactly where they wanted to be, the edge of Froggy Bottom Bog. A fog bank huddled over one of the marshes, and the crusaders found themselves right up against it. Scootaloo pulled herself into the air, spun around, and delivered it a kick, just like Rainbow Dash clearing the skies; Apple Bloom spun and bucked at it, just like Big Mac knocking apples loose; and Sweetie Belle fell upon it with her horn, screaming like a banshee, just like Rarity fighting changelings. All three immediately got nowhere. Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom fell through the cloud flat on their faces and Scootaloo sank up to her knees in it, far deeper than she had in the mud. Scootaloo buzzed her wings furiously, managing to pull herself out of the cloud. The others stumbled out of it a few seconds later. Both were covered in mud, but only Sweetie Belle was trying to get it off. “Aw, Rarity’s gonna make me soak for an hour if I come home like this.” After Scootaloo slid down the bank and landed next to them they put their heads together and began thinking. It was definitely possible for Scootaloo to hit the cloud, but she didn’t know how to bust it properly. That could probably be fixed with practice, so she had to keep at it. As for Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom, they were in a harder spot, but they remembered Twilight casting a spell on Applejack to let her walk on clouds. As Scootaloo kept attacking the fog bank Sweetie Belle began alternating between throwing short blasts of sparks at Apple Bloom’s hooves and trying to use magic on the fog directly whenever Apple Bloom took another crack at cloud bucking. There’s no telling if they would’ve kept this up for hours in desperation or given up in a few minutes when Sweetie Belle burned Apple Bloom’s hooves because after only a few tries an enormous eye rose over the fog bank and looked directly at them. The single eye was larger than two of them put together, so after one brief moment of silent eye contact all three screamed and galloped for the safety of the trees. Coming out they had thought they were moving at top speed, but going back they found they must have been dawdling. How else could they have cut the time to get back to the scooter in half? Having fled the great unseen beast and having had their hearts stop racing they still found themselves next to the Everfree and hoping not to have to go back to town. Sweetie Belle suggested visiting Zecora. She could get the mud off her barrel, and Zecora might have a potion that would let them touch clouds. Or something they could spray on clouds to dissolve them. Either one would let them try for weather worker cutie marks the next time clouds came out of the woods. The other two glanced nervously at the forest, but the trees were tight enough together that whatever had the enormous eye would be unlikely to squeeze through them, and they hadn’t heard anything lumbering through the forest following them, so they decided it was probably safe. Thus, to Zecora’s they went. The zebra was glad to see them, though she had only recognized Scootaloo at first, the other two being far too caked in mud. She gave them a tub to wash up in while Scootaloo explained what they were looking for. The others got clean far faster than they would’ve with Rarity’s thoroughness and quickly began helping Zecora brew a potion. It kept for weeks and could cut through cloud like a hot knife through butter. By the end of it all three were sticky with potion ingredients, the hut was a mess and they had begun reflexively rhyming, but they had their brew. Zecora saw them off with a tired smile and they began heading home, happy. At the edge of the forest they had to go their separate ways, Scootaloo to her aunts’, Sweetie Belle to Carousel Boutique, and Apple Bloom to Sweet Apple Acres. All three said goodbye, looking forward to seeing each other again the next day. Apple bloom went home, had dinner, and was planning her activities for the next day when she noticed fireflies dotting the fields outside her window. She was called to them. Down the steps and out the doors, she was on the porch and flashing beads of light surrounded her. Her heart was tugging at her to go deeper, to wander further from her home. She walked between the trees she had known all her life, growing so much faster than them they had seemed to shrink even as they reached taller every year, trailing the insect-stars as they blinked in and out around her. At the edge of the field, she looked back, and her breath caught. She was looking over endless tiny lights, reaching towards the shining windows of the house she’d come from, where she’d lived all her life. They were as bright as any horizon stretching over Manehattan or Fillydephia, and she knew she would never leave that farm. It would always have her heart. One of the lights was larger than the others. It grew brighter and brighter, getting closer and closer. It was Applejack, holding a lantern in her teeth. “Hey there, sugar cube. I reckon you should be getting to bed.” “I know sis. I’m sorry, but it was so beautiful, and I just wanted to see it from here.” “I understand.” Said Applejack. She lay the lantern down and Apple Bloom saw she had saddlebags on. She reached in and pulled out two bottles of cider. She passed one to Apple Bloom and sat down. They looked over the field in silence, drinking the cider quietly. Once the bottles were bone dry she got up, dusted herself off, and pulled her sister to her hooves. The two of them began walking back through the now dimming lightning bugs. They were passing under the edge of the furthest tree from the house when Applejack spoke again. “I love you sis. You know that?” “I do. Absolutely.” Said Apple bloom. “I’m glad.” Said Applejack, smiling. There are three things you must understand. The first is that the Apples cared for their trees. They tended them to harvest, but they also tended them for their own sake. They did everything they could to keep them healthy and well, not only for the sake of having a healthy harvest, but because they cared for the trees themselves. Sometimes, that love blinded them. They failed to see when a tree was too old. They didn’t always cut them down when they should. Here, at the edge of the field, its mighty, heavy, limbs stretching far above their heads, was one of the trees they hadn’t seen for what it was. The second is that a pony’s cutie mark is not given to them solely when they find a skill they adore. Many, many foals have tried their cutie mark’s skill and had nothing happen, only to return later and do it again with some greater knowledge of themselves and what makes them happy, only to get a cutie mark for something they’ve done for years. Sometimes something they’ve done all their life. The third is that very old trees rot, and their branches can snap off with very little provocation. As Apple Bloom walked through the fog of fireflies she decided she wanted to tell her sister what she had learned that evening. “Sis, we spent all day crusading for our cutie marks.” “As usual.” “I know. But I just realized something, and I wanted to let you know.” “What is it?” “I don’t mind if it takes me a really long time to get my cutie mark. I don’t mind if it takes forever. I want to stay here. I like Ponyville. I like farming. I like Sweet Apple Acres. If I got something else, something that meant I had to leave, I wouldn’t want it. This is where I want to be.” She said. Her hip began to shake. She looked down and saw something new. Seated there, right where it was always meant to be, was her cutie mark. An apple hanging off the edge of a branch, leaves around it. “I got it! I got my cutie mark!” She yelled. “Congratulations!” Said Applejack. “I’m so proud of you!” Apple Bloom was jumping around, hopping from place to place in excitement. “I’m a Sweet Apple Acres girl through and through! I’m exactly where I want to be, and it’s right here! A farmer with you and Big Mac is what I want to be!” She bucked the nearest tree in excitement. The tree they’d been walking under. The very old tree, with the very, very large, heavy branches. Branches that would snap off with very little provocation. “I love you, sis!” Shouted Apple Bloom. Then, a thundering crack ripped through the air around them, and both ponies looked up. A limb as wide around as Big Mac’s barrel hung over Apple Bloom. Then it stopped hanging. The limb sliced through the air with all the unstoppability five hundred pounds of wood could bring to bear. It didn’t even slow down when it landed on Apple Bloom, turning her into a smear on the ground in an instant. She didn’t even get time to scream. Applejack, looking at the apple jelly oozing out from under the branch was briefly silent, filled with horror. Then she threw her hat on the ground and spoke. “Dammit, not again.” > A late night > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. “Applejack, I’m always happy to see you, but it’s three in the morning. Why are you here?” Asked Twilight, her eyes squinting against wakefulness. Applejack was standing on the doorstep of Golden Oaks Library, more awake than Twilight, but also even more irritated. “Begging your pardon for coming to call so late Twilight, but it happened again, and you know how much Granny Smith panics when she wakes up and finds Apple Bloom missing.” “Of course, of course. Come in. You really need to stop her from dying.” “This one was not my fault. She bucked a tree and half of it came down on her. Could’ve happened to anypony.” “Bucking a tree can bring it down?” “It didn’t bring the whole thing down, just half. ‘Sides, Isaac Appleton’s old, and he’s always had a problem with bits falling on folks. Granny Smith told me he once dropped so many apple’s on pa’s head when he was a kid he was buried up to his neck.” “Alright, fine, it was an accident, just come in.” Twilight held open the door and Applejack stepped through. “When’s her last back-up?” She asked. “I’ve got one from last week, before you went on that camping trip. I saw her this morning but it slipped my mind to ask her to back up.” “She wouldn’t have done it anyway. She always thinks she’s going to live forever.” “Maybe after this time she’ll take the lesson to heart.” “It’s a real shame, this one. She’d just gotten her cutie mark. That’s why she bucked Isaac. She was so happy she gave out a kick. Then he gave out.” “Really? She got it? What was it?” “An apple, of course. Hanging off a branch. She’d decided she wanted to live on the farm, just like me and Big Mac.” “I’m sure she’ll be pleased to hear about it. You’ll have to deal with her trying to get it again every day for a month, though.” Said Twilight, opening the door to the library basement. “Might not tell her, then. Having me know what it is while she doesn’t will drive her nuts. Having to work it out the hard way again can be her punishment for dying again.” “Are you sure you can keep the secret, miss element of honesty?” “You ain’t an only child; you must’ve worked out tormenting a sibling with harmless secrets they’ll find out later is just a part of lovin’ ‘em, right?” “Shiny did that to me a few times. I’ll never forgive him for keeping that Hearthswarming telescope gift a secret. I bought one I saw on sale for myself three days before Hearthswarming. I had two for three years before the first one broke.” “I’ll take my chances on Apple Bloom getting two cutie marks.” “Fine, my lips are sealed.” To Twilight, the basement had changed dramatically over the past few months. The EEG she had had installed upon arrival had been replaced with a PET machine, which had in turn been replaced with a state of the art neural analyzer, once she had realized what she could do with the extra precision. Where there had once been printers that devoured reams of paper and spat out recordings of participants’ brain waves, there was now a single monitor allowing her to look at the data in comfort. To Applejack, the basement of the library had looked the same a month after Twilight had moved in as it did now, barring one exception. Wires crawled up the walls like vines then as they did now, growing from machines that hummed and buzzed when Twilight turned them on to do things Applejack only understood the result of. The machines were different now, but since they’d been just as incomprehensible to her before she wouldn’t have been able to tell you which one was what for all the bits in Canterlot. The only thing she knew with certainty was different was the towering mirror portal on the wall. That one meant something to her, so she had noticed when it changed. The computer finished booting up and the monitor switched to the blinding white desktop. Applejack squinted against it while Twilight dragged up Apple Bloom’s file. It was as she’d said, the most recent iteration was one week old. She made some quick clicks, copying it to an output device and ejecting it. Above their heads a sack the size of a pony began moving along the underside of a rail. It met the edge of the portal and sank through in a flash of light. A few seconds later the surface of the mirror rippled and Apple Bloom’s head broke the surface. Applejack took the head between her hooves and pulled. The two rolled back across the room, ending in a pile with Applejack on bottom and her new little sister asleep on top. “Thank you very much Twilight,” Said Applejack, standing up and heaving her sister over her withers. “I’ll let you get back to bed now. Would you like to come over tomorrow for breakfast? Chores or not I’m going to end up sleeping late after this mess.” “It would be nice to meet you for breakfast at a normal pony hour. Could I come by around ten?” “I said I’d be sleeping late, not taking the day off. My breakfast’s gonna be seven thirty.” “I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch. Good night.” Said Twilight, waving Applejack away as she walked through the streets of Ponyville, heading for home with her sister on her back. > Apple Bloom Reborn > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Apple Bloom woke up the next day to Applejack yelling up the stairs. “Wake up and come on down sugar cube, breakfast’s on the table, and it’s getting cold.” “I’m on my way sis.” Said Apple Bloom. She felt strange, something was off. She put her bow in her hair and went to meet her sister. “Good morning. Did I die last night?” She asked. “Yep. Isaac Appleton fell on you. Crushed flat in an instant. Nothing to be done about it.” “I thought so, last thing I remember is us planning to go camping. How long’s it been from my last back-up?” “A full week, and it’s been busy.” “What’s been going on?” “We went on that trip, we led away a parasprite swarm, we scared off some Timberwolves, and you got your cutie mark.” “What.” “You got your cutie mark. We were talking and it showed right up on your flank, same as mine.” “What was it?” “Ain’t telling.” “wat.” “You brought down Isaac Appleton, you’re getting some trouble for that. Missing a week of summer vacation, helping Twilight with some of her science stuff in the afternoon, and not knowing your cutie mark are punishment enough to me.” “I don’t even remember doing it!” “Not important.” “Aw, please?” “Not telling.” “Why not?” “You weren’t supposed to be out there, and I was up late enough dealing with the mess I had to sleep in today. I ain’t telling. Now, finish your cornbread. You’ve still got your regular chores before heading over to Twilight’s.” Said Applejack. Apple Bloom ate in silence. She tended to get in trouble every time she died, though it never seemed fair to her. Applejack wanted her to learn to be responsible. Apparently she died more than anyone else in town, even Scootaloo. “Before you try anything, you didn’t get it for sneaking out, so don’t try it.” “Dang.” Apple Bloom arrived at Twilight’s that afternoon uncertain as to what she was going to be doing. At least it probably wouldn’t be cleaning, Twilight and Spike handled that themselves. Mostly Spike. Twilight didn’t have hands. Twilight welcomed her inside and led her down to the basement. It looked the same as Applejack had seen last night, or Apple Bloom had seen the last time she was scanned. “I was hoping to get your help mixing these.” Said Twilight. There was a table full of reagents next to a cauldron, and Twilight had already changed into a labcoat. “It’s pretty straightforward, we’re just mixing up a new batch of renaissance swallow.” “I didn’t know we could make this here. I thought it came down from Canterlot.” “My lab is world class, Apple Bloom. If something can be made, it can be made here. Since the renaissance system is still a local thing no one else makes it yet. Celestia is having a factory built, though. For now, she wants me to teach some other people how to make it, and since you need it more than anyone else, I thought you should be one of the earlier ones to do it.” “Can we add sugar to it? It always tastes like sour milk.” “No can do, sugar speeds up the absorption and it travels through your blood too fast. Instead of scanning your brain after you swallow it, I’d end up scanning your bladder.” “Fine, show me how you do it then.” Twilight showed her what the liquid was meant to look like, a faint pink between the complete colorless clarity it had now and the dark purple it reached if the liquid overshot, then showed her how to perform a titration. A buret dripped one liquid into a flask filled with another, the flow controlled by the turning of a stopcock. Even a little bit too much could lead to the whole thing becoming unusable. Twilight was good at them, but even she messed up half of them. They were working with one litre at a time so that any one mistake wouldn’t ruin an entire batch of titrand, a rule Spike had insisted on after Twilight had a moderate mental break down when a loose drop fell into a 100 litre vat. That it meant she had to do more titrating had not dissuaded him. Apple Bloom took to titrating as if she had been waiting to do it her whole life. She couldn't have taken to it faster if she were making apple cider instead of renaissance swallow. Twilight began the afternoon expecting to be watching over her shoulder to make sure she did everything right, but they finished an hour sooner than she had expected, and Appebloom hadn’t overshot a single one. Every single titration was done perfectly. “Very good job.” Said Twilight. “Thanks. It’s like mixing potions. I do that with Zecora sometimes. More precise though.” “Should we drink a batch?” Asked Twilight after they had finished. “I try to back up every day.” “I backed up yesterday, and it involves staying in that metal tube for half an hour. I’ll pass.” “You actually haven’t backed up in a week.” “I’ve only got a day’s change.” “I guess you haven’t changed much. Do you think you could back me up though? Celestia thinks I shouldn’t be the only one able to back ponies up.” “How do you get backed up, then?” “Spike, but I have to tell him what to do every time. Sometimes we have to do it more than once. He can never remember what all the settings do.” “Could you show me what to do?” “Sure; like this.” Twilight led her to the computer and walked her through the steps, explaining each one. She changed up the programs every time she improved her scanning methods, which was why Spike had long since given up on learning them. Apple Bloom followed along, then watched as Twilight drank a dose of renaissance swallow, winced at the taste, and laid down in the scan tube. “Running it.” She said, switching on the device. As it ran she stared at the screen, trying to think of a way to make it faster so she could sweeten the swallow. She didn’t know enough about the scanning technology to do it, but it struck her as a puzzle. Something to be picked away at. She wanted to make it work. When Twilight came out, fully scanned, she asked her before leaving. “Twilight, I know this was supposed to be punishment and all, but could I come over again tomorrow? I’d like it if you told me how the scanner works more. I know you don’t need more swallow, but if I get a chance I’d like to make that again too.” “Of course, Apple Bloom. I’d love to teach you about the scanner. Want to come over tomorrow afternoon?” “Is that an Apple afternoon or a Canterlot afternoon?” “Want to come over at 3 PM tomorrow?” “I’d like that. See you then.” “Goodbye.” The two parted ways. Twilight spent the rest of the afternoon looking through her library, looking up everything she could find about cutie marks. Apple Bloom tracked down the other two crusaders. While they were quieter when she was absent, Sweetie Belle being able to countervote Scootaloo’s more actively suicidal ideas when Apple Bloom wasn’t around to tilt the scales, they made everyone else much louder, since Scootaloo would head away from town when Apple Bloom was present while Sweetie Belle was perfectly content keeping their antics inside of city limits. She found them standing on top of a lamp post, surrounded by a herd of rabbits kept at bay by Scootaloo’s swinging of a rake. Both were soaked to the bone with carrot juice and Sweetie Belle seemed to be cooing compulsively. The ponies milling about the street around them were giving them a wide berth, but otherwise ignoring them. Apple Bloom found Scootaloo’s scooter, stuck to the outer wall of a woodworker’s shop, and tossed it over. Scootaloo caught it, took one last swing at the rabbits, then, Sweetie Belle stuffed in the crook of one leg, dove past them, landed on her scooter, grabbed Apple Bloom, and began scooting away at top speed. The rabbits gave chase, but with her on wheels they never gained. After leading the rabbits back to Fluttershy’s cottage, where they received a withering lecture about how mistakes when someone is trying a new language should be forgiven that shamed them into leaving Sweetie Belle alone, the two sides swapped storied about their day so far. “Sweetie wanted to try talking to rabbits, Fluttershy taught us a few words and we managed a bit of conversation with Angel, we found some rabbits after we left the cottage and said something that got them really mad, then she decided to try a translation spell she thought she remembered but ended up with pigeon-” “Coo.” Said Sweetie Belle, sadly. “And then they started chasing us, we crashed-” “Coo!” “I crashed, and we got stuck up a lamp post trying to stay away from them. They kick pretty hard. That’s when you showed up.” “Where’d the rake come from?” “Cranky Doodle offered me some bits to do a bit of raking, I was carrying it when we went to Fluttershy’s and I just never put it down. What’ve you been doing?” “I died last night, so Applejack had me go to Twilight’s to do some work for her. I was mixing renaissance swallow.” “That sounds pretty boring.” “It wasn’t so bad. I actually liked it a lot. It was like making potions. You won’t believe what happened to me before I died.” “Coo?” “I got my cutie mark!” Yelled Apple Bloom. Both of the other girls immediately stared at her flank. “Uh, is it a mark in invisibility?” “I don’t have it now, I know, but I got it. I’m running on a backup from a week ago, and this me doesn’t have it yet. But that means I’m gonna get it soon!” “Do you know what it is?” “No, that’s the hard part. Applejack says I knocked down Isaac Appleton when I died so she’s punishing me by not telling me.” “I didn’t expect her to be able to keep a secret that well.” “She can keep stuff back if she needs to. Remember the Sisterhooves social?” “Coo.” “But I have an idea, if we just do the same stuff we did yesterday I should get it again, right?” “You didn’t get it with us.” “But if we do the same stuff I’ll go home and do the same stuff there and get it again. What were we doing around now yesterday?” “Running away from that big monster we saw in the Everfree.” Said Scootaloo. “We’ve done that tons of times, it must’ve been something else.” “We went to Zecora’s and made a potion to let us clear clouds. I’ve still got mine.” “Coo.” Said Sweetie Belle, nodding in agreement. “We’ve made potions before, but we’ve never made that one before. Let’s go and ask her what she knows about cutie marks. We can get Sweetie Belle cured too.” “Coo!“ Off they went, speculating about what Apple Bloom’s mark had been, hoping whatever had happened would work on the other two this time, and learning a few words of pigeon. They arrived at Zecora’s hut much cleaner than the day before and rapped on the door, knock, knock, knock. “Once again a visit from you three, what brings you back to see me?” “Hi Zecora. Yesterday I got my cutie mark, but then I got crushed by a tree and died. Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle said we came here yesterday and made a potion. Can I try making something again so I can get my cutie mark again? Sweetie Belle’s stuck speaking pigeon.” Said Apple Bloom. Zecora paused for a moment before responding. “Strange times when ponies speak of dying so casually, but better to have you here than under a tree. You’d best come in so we can begin.” She got the full story of the day’s events from Scootaloo and suggested they try casting a counter spell from the book instead, but agreed that brewing a potion was worth a shot as a method of getting Apple Bloom her cutie mark again. Sweetie Belle might’ve been annoyed they weren't going to try to cure her, but nopony could tell for sure. Instead of an antidote to the pigeon curse they decided to try a salticidae potion, which was a fancy name for a potion that let you jump as high as tree tops and fall back to the ground without breaking anything. Scootaloo had leapt on it the moment it was mentioned. Ingredients were chopped, water boiled, fire burned and cauldron bubbled. Apple Bloom wiped the sweat from her brow with her hoof and looked around the hut. Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle had carried themselves with strength through much of the afternoon, but both had eventually left. Sweetie Belle had grown sick of having to act out every question she had to Zecora, and a Scootaloo had left to accompany her back to Golden Oaks. Out the windows the sun was setting and shadows had risen from the base of each towering tree, like pools of ink expanding over the grass and leaf litter lying on the ground. It would be dark soon, but inside the fire’s flickering light cut made the shadow’s dance. The masks on the wall were smiling at her, comfort carved into wood. Across the cauldron Zecora smiled at her and took a deep breath. “Unless my nose deceives me, I believe the brew is ready.” Apple Bloom had been able to smell every change in the potion up to that point. This was the first time Zecora had pointed it out to her. It was the last change. She hadn’t pointed it out because she knew what needed to be done next wasn’t more brewing but bottling. The day was over, and she had to lay down her ladle. She didn’t want to. “We must bottle them up, each dose is one cup.” They bottled. Neither expected Apple Bloom would be able to carry that many home, so she took only as many as she could carry, which was ten. After the bottling was over the night had truly come. Luna’s moon not withstanding, without a lantern she could see no further walking through the shadows than if she had been walking through fog. “Will I walk you back? The night is black.” “Thank you.” They were just out of the hut and into the woods when Zecora asked Apple Bloom how she had found the day. “It was good. I liked doing it.” “I thought you might. Your face always showed delight.” “I mean, I really liked it. Before I came here I was making renaissance swallow with Twilight. I was really good at it, and I wanted to keep doing it then. That’s a type of potion too, or at least a type of brewing. I know I didn’t get my cutie mark doing it, but I’d really like to just keep doing it anyway.” Said Apple Bloom. “Are you sure you did not? Certainly something has appeared on that spot.” Apple Bloom looked at her flank and saw her coat was no longer a smooth yellow but a flask filled with a bubbling, bright red liquid. “I got it! I got my cutie mark!” Shouted Apple Bloom. She began bouncing around the forest path on the tips of her hooves. “I would not go too close to the trees, they can fall at the slightest breeze.” Said Zecora. Apple Bloom stopped bouncing and began vibrating in place instead. “I’m just so happy! I can keep making potions! I can make new ones, better ones! Even my mark knows I’m good at it!” “Let’s get you home to show Applejack your new flask. Otherwise I’m sure she’ll take me to task.” The two arrived at the door of the farm house. Zecora raised a hoof to knock and Apple Bloom burst through like a tornado. “I got my mark! Granny, Sis, Big Mac! I got my mark!” “Granny Smith’s asleep and Big Mac is out with Spike. What’s all the hollerin’?” Asked Applejack “Sis! I got my cutie mark!” “Congratulations! What tipped you off this time?” Asked Applejack. “Look! I was making potions with Zecora and it showed up! It’s in potion making!” “What?” “I spent the morning making renaissance swallow with Twilight and I liked it, so I went to Zecora’s with the crusaders and made potions and when I was leaving I saw I got my mark!” “wat.” “I stopped her kicking a tree. She can’t have learned from last time if she was crushed by debris.” Said Zecora. “Can we go back me up tomorrow? And have a Cuteceneara soon? And I need to tell Scootaloo and Swetie Belle, and I want to tell Twilight since she helped me get it-” Apple bloom was rambling on while Applejack stood like a piece of furniture. Eventually she snapped out of it. “Sugarcube all of those are great ideas, but they’re ideas for tomorrow. Right now you need to get to bed. Zecora, do you want to stay the night?” “I would rather go. I sleep late and you wake at cockcrow.” “Alright, thank you for looking after her for the day. Goodbye.” Zecora left and Applejack led her sister to bed, putting her down to sleep. As soon as she was sure Apple Bloom was asleep Applejack moved through the dark house silently. She took a flashlight from a drawer in the kitchen and crept out the front door. She locked it, a rarity for her. She stole away into the night, heading for town. > Applejack's memories > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Knock, knock, knock. It was the second night in a row she was knocking on Twilight’s door after midnight. It creaked open and Twilight saw her on the doorstep. “Hello Applejack. If you’re looking for Big Mac he and Spike went out, I don’t know when they’ll be back. I think they’re at that new diner across from Quills and Sofas.” “It’s about Apple Bloom.” “Oh no, did it happen again? Come inside, was it another tree?” “No, she’s fine. At least, she was when I left. It’s about her cutie mark. She got it again.” “Really? I thought it would be another week. What’s wrong?” “It’s not the same one. Yesterday was an apple. Today is a flask.” “Did she get into your special cider?” “Not a hip flask, one of those glass flasks you use for science. It’s got measurement lines on the side.” “You’d better come inside. I’ll make us some tea.” Twilight led Applejack to the library’s small kitchen. She poured up two cups of chamomile and got to listening. “Last night she got an apple. She was going to carry on the farm. She was going to stay in Ponyville. She spends today brewing with you and Zecora and all of a sudden she’s going to be a potion maker. There’s no school for that in Ponyville. We don’t even have a shop she can apprentice at. She could go with Zecora but she still won’t be part of the farm. Is it even really her? Could she be a changeling? Ponies’ cutie marks can’t change unless something really bad happens, right?” “Applejack, breathe.” Said Twilight. “Drink. You’re panicking.” Applejack sipped at the tea. Trying not to scald herself was enough of a distraction she was forced to calm down. “I’m pretty sure I know what happened to Apple Bloom. It was a theory of cutie mark development from years ago. No one’s checked it before because the technology didn’t exist but with the renaissance system we seem to have just proven it accidentally. Cornelius Agriffa was a griffin scholar who thought that cutie marks didn’t come about when ponies found something they loved doing, instead he said that ponies developed until they were ready to take on a talent, and that then the first thing they spent a while on that made them really happy marked them. He actually worked it out after watching a couple of colts spend months looking for their cutie marks and then getting them in things they’d tried before.” “A lot like Apple Bloom and her friends.” “A lot like the crusaders, yes. I think there was even three of them.” “Do you just know this by chance?” “When Apple Bloom came over earlier I saw how good she was at making renaissance swallow and I had a hunch it was a special talent somehow. I spent the evening looking into it. I guess that spending the evening with Zecora pushed her over into getting her cutie mark.” “Okay. That is Apple Bloom, not some changeling or something out of the forest. Now I need to work out what to do.“ “What do you mean?” “She’s got a mark in making potions. Like I said, I don’t know anything about making potions, and I don’t think anyone in Ponyville does either. Zecora might, but she lives in the forest and I’m pretty sure she goes around Equestria to get ingredients pretty often. Probably farther. Apple Bloom dies often enough wandering around town. I don’t want her heading out like that.” “Applejack. You haven’t asked Zecora if she’d take on Apple Bloom. I’m sure If she did she’d take care of her, but that's down the line. All of these are just hypotheticals. Why are you really upset?” “Because I don’t know what to do about Apple Bloom.” “Breathe. In. Out.” Said Twilight. “If she had gotten a potion making cutie mark two days ago you wouldn’t be panicking like this. You’d come to me to ask where she could go to get a good education in potion making, or how you could add potion making to your farm, both of which could be done pretty easily. You wouldn’t be doing this. Why are you really upset?” Applejack paused. She breathed in and out, sipped at her tea, breathed in and out again, and spoke. “Yesterday I knew my sister was going to be part of my life forever. Today she’s someone else. She’s going to live her life, and I don’t know if I’ll be a part of it.” “Oh, Applejack, of course you will. She’d still a kid, even if her talent is potion making now there are still a million different things she can do with it, and she’s going to need your help to work out which she wants. You said she got her mark yesterday when she decided to stay with you. That love is still there. She’s the same person she was then.” Said Twilight. Applejack finished her tea. “You’re right. I was panicking. Thank you for calming me down, Twilight.” “We all need someone outside a problem to help us sometimes. Spike’s done it for me too many times to count. Do you want to spend the night?” “No, I’ve got work around the farm tomorrow morning. Two late nights in a row’ll be rough, but I’ll handle it.” “I’ll let you get home to bed then.” The moon had pierced the clouds when Applejack left Golden Oaks and her walk home wasn’t half so dark as her walk out. As she walked the roads of Ponyville memories came unbidden to her mind. Here, she’d found her sister crying after school, upset because of something or other, and taken her to Sugar Cube Corner. Here was where Apple Bloom had first lost a tooth. Here, her sister and her friends had tried getting marks in mining, dug into a water main, and almost drowned. She was briefly forced to confront the fact that most of her memories of the crusaders involved them in mortal peril. Whether or not it had made them even more reckless she was sure there was no chance the three would still be standing if Twilight hadn’t wired up the renaissance device. She came to the edge of a pond and gazed across it. The moon shone on the water, surrounded by stars. What came to mind wasn’t from years ago. It was just last week. Camping had always been a joy for Applejack. The orchards were her home, but nature, growing free, unconstrained by pegasus weather or earth pony magic, was a vacation. She always felt at her most relaxed there, where no part of her responsibilities could touch her, like she was a filly playing hide and seek. At least, when she tried to put it into words, that was the closest thing she could find. Comfort, safety, and excitement, all at once. It was too primordial for her to describe with any accuracy, but it felt like where she belonged. Her sister was the same. At least, Applejack thought she was. She always jumped when Applejack offered her a camping trip. They had taken a trip all the way to Portage Park, a forest growing between lakes on the far side of the Canterhorn. Just getting there had been half a day by train. They had rented a canoe and paddled it through the woods. The weather, despite being wild, had been perfection. The thinnest layer of clouds with sunlight piercing through to wrap every inch of the park in a golden glow. Every time they stepped out of the boat onto dry-ish land they had been utterly beset by mosquitoes. The swarms were entirely insensitive to the Apple’s freely applied bugspray. After a sleepless first night of lying in the tent and hearing a new bug buzz past their ears every few seconds Apple Bloom had been ready to go home and Applejack had been ready to burn down the park. For whatever reason, the mosquitoes didn’t try to cross the water, so the Apples decided to stay on the boat, coming ashore only to build fires and cook. They had been itchy and bumpy after the first night's bites, but they got almost none after, and the first day’s didn’t last long. Apple Bloom had slept wrapped in Applejack’s legs. It was the only way they could fit in the boat while sleeping. She remembered waking up on the third day, the sun just barely up and the mist of the waters fading away. She had looked at her sister and wanted nothing more than to keep her safe. She paddled to shore with one leg, keeping her sister still, then extracted herself from the entanglement, crept onto the beach, grabbed some wood from the forest’s edge, and built a fire. It was early enough the mosquitoes weren’t awake yet, and she wanted to cook before they woke up. Apple Bloom only woke up when she had almost finished frying everything. Beans, eggs, tomatoes, and toast sizzled away on a sheen of butter that spread across the surface of the travel skillet while a kettle whistled softly. Rubbing her eyes, she had shared breakfast with her. That was the day her sister had her first cup of coffee. Every other part of the breakfast had been shared, and she had wanted to share that too. It was half milk by the time she found it light enough, but Applejack had always taken hers light too, and thought no less of her for that. The rest of the day they both had the faint taste of coffee on their breath. At least, Applejack did, and had assumed Apple Bloom did. That moment was gone now, as was every other moment from the camping trip. She had an Apple Bloom that had never enjoyed a cup of coffee, or endured the mosquitoes, or pushed her paddle through the still waters of the lake in Portage Park. All the fears that had filled everyone’s mind in the early days of the renaissance device, when they had been afraid it would lead to a plague of mad ponies like the mirror pool it had been based on, or argued that the new ponies didn’t count as being the same, sprung to her mind. Everypony had harbored them, but nopony had spoken the complaints too loud. Everypony knew what it was to lose somepony special. She’d been uncomfortable but she’d kept quiet since she was worried about just about everypony. Her friends, her sister, her sister’s friends, Granny Smith, all of them were as mortal as they came. Even Big Mac might find out something was too heavy for him to lift one day. If he found out while under it she would prefer to have him on a backup. She still had her sister, but that week, all of those moments, even the most important, watching her sister get her cutie mark, were gone. Forgotten by everypony but her. If she died before she backed up again, then even her. She walked away from the lake, trotting into the night. There was one more stop before she got home. The Apples had been in Ponyville since it’s founding, but it was a young town. Only a couple of Apples had been buried here. Until recently. It wasn’t a proper graveyard, just a field hidden away between two orchards. Her fondness for simplicity was hereditary. It had been filling up rapidly these days. Before the renaissance device ponies could only be buried as fast as they were born. Now there were twenty-nine different Apple Blooms under half the field. They outnumbered everypony without a backup almost four times over. Applejack had never mourned any of them. Nopony had. The first time she had gone to Twilight with the mangled body on her back, desperate. The backup had been just a few hours before. She’d almost flayed Apple Bloom for worrying her so much despite her saying she couldn’t remember what she’d done, then got her to promise never to play on the train tracks, and made her get a backup every morning for two weeks. Rarity had been even worse for Sweetie Belle’s first time, when she tried to clean her cooking using bleach and ammonia, and Scootaloo’s aunts had refused to let her leave the house for a month after she tried cliff diving. Twilight had told them all they should bury the bodies as they saw fit. By the eighth time having to dig her own grave was a standard punishment for Apple Bloom for getting herself killed. By the twentieth time there had been enough accidents she didn’t deserve to be punished for that it was just considered another chore around the farm. Applejack had never mourned any of them. Crying over somepony’s grave when she was standing right next to you struck her as odd. She trotted up to the freshest one, a single wooden stick at the end of some freshly dug earth, nothing but a mark not to dig there again. Neither her nor Apple Bloom had even dug it, instead Big Mac had gotten it done between breakfast and lunch. She laid one hoof on the stick. “I’m sorry.” Said Applejack. “I didn’t know you long, but you mattered.” She wanted to say more, but she couldn’t think of anything else. She sat on the dewy grass as the clouds drifted across the moon and the shadows shifted across the grass. She saw the moon move and felt her eyelids prickling. She had to be up at dawn tomorrow. She got up and walked home.