Something to Look Forward To
The first few weeks were a difficult period of adjustment. The strange new faces, the overabundance of intelligent creatures, and living in a world where everything seemed built at least a size too small, combined to make the experience so alien it was easy to be distracted.
He couldn't blame them for their suspicions, or their fears. But even they could recognize the mixture of pride and loss in his voice when showing them the photograph taken at his last family reunion.
At first, he was awed with the dazzling displays of magic they considered everyday tasks. He eagerly turned it into a cultural exchange, showing off the greatest achievement of mankind he had on his person: his smartphone.
Sadly, the display was short-lived, as he realized he had no cables to recharge it. Wanting to save it for something truly worthwhile, he shut it off and stowed it away safely.
He'd been unpacking when he vanished, and, aside from the photograph, he'd been carrying a few other things. A Bible heavy with footnotes and annotations. A physics reference book gifted by a relative who hadn't quite caught onto the whole Internet thing.
And a loaded handgun. He’d always kept it on top of the shelves, out of sight and in easy reach. He had never had to use it before, and had only fired five shots in his whole life, all at cans and bottles with some old college buddies.
He gladly donated the physics text to the royal library, uncertain whether anything would come of it, but knowing he lacked the initiative to spearhead any advancements himself. After explaining the Bible to Celestia, she suggested he share it with her during monthly visitations.
He wasn't sure where the gun ended up.
He was curious to hear the stories of his custodians. In time, they called one another "friends." He began to gain a newfound respect for the power of friendship. While he was seemingly unaffected by this world's magic, there was no denying what it was capable of. Still, some nights he'd stare at that old photo for time uncounted, reminded of old connections now lost.
Without much use for his skills as a computer programmer, he decided to pursue something that would benefit from fine dexterity. In the end, he settled on jeweler, with Rarity providing the tools and slowly but surely imparting a sense of style.
Celestia was always attentive during their monthly Bible study. She was inquisitive at all the right times, and true to her royal charm, was somehow never condescending or humbled. He always thanked her for her precious time, and enjoyed perusing the book to find passages for their next meetings.
The years wore on. One day, Apple Bloom was celebrating her passage into adulthood. It was quite the party -- Pinkie made certain of that. Even now he was impressed with her boundless energy.
As for himself, he'd settled into this life. Thanks to Rarity's guidance, he now had a shop of his own. He lived upstairs, though he rarely did more than sleep there. While unpacking, he'd found his old smartphone. Curious, he tried to turn it on, but the screen remained blank.
Word of his existence was well-known. While he liked to think the quality of his craftsmanship attracted customers, he knew some of the lure was simply how different he was.
He visited his one-time watchmen, long-time guardians frequently. Only rarely did he look at the old photo, perched on his bookshelf. When he did, it was all the more poignant. Now he believed that while he might find friends here, he could never truly belong.
One spring day a pretty young mare began frequenting his store. He never turned anypony away for browsing, and it soon seemed she was determined to test that policy.
She visited about once a week at first, saying little. Eventually she started asking questions, coming more frequently. Soon their chatter moved well beyond jewelry.
By the end of summer, she began testing the waters for something... deeper.
Deeply concerned, realizing that he would have said "yes" without hesitation were she human, he sought Celestia's advice during their next meeting.
She smiled quietly for some time. With a slow, majestic blink of her eyes, she said only, "I wish the greatest of happiness for you both."
Five months later, he and the mare were wed. She joined him in his store, tending to customers while he worked in back. She was the better salespony by far.
While they doubted they could have children, and even worried what the result might be, they had to admit some feeling of disappointment when their home remained empty years later.
During their monthly meetings, Celestia began asking how he and his wife were getting along. Usually, there was little to say, but at times there were frustrations to vent. At these times, Celestia always reminded him, "Life is too short and precious to fill it with bitterness."
Men in his family always aged well. It wasn't until the first of the Apple family's new generation began tending the orchard that he realized the years he'd spent here had truly become substantial.
He stared at the photograph for several hours that night, responding to his wife's calls to get some sleep with a mindless "In a minute, honey."
The colors had started to fade in the photo, as has his memories of the people in it. Remembering that light tended to do that to old paintings and such, he tucked the photograph at the bottom of a chest.
The years weathered on longer still, and despite his careful handling, more and more pages of his old Bible started to come loose. He started dedicating his spare time to transcribing it, word for word, footnotes and all. Until he started putting those words to thicker, common paper, with his large handwriting, he hadn't truly appreciated the immensity of the contents.
Business had seemed to die down without a human behind the counter. Or perhaps it was his failure to keep up with the newest fashions. He and his wife managed to live comfortably enough, but he began to wonder if supplementing their income might be wise. To that end, he began to seek other opportunities.
His wife began to lament how little time they spent together. After several arguments, he finally mentioned the situation to Celestia. Her response? "I've found it more enjoyable to live the life you have than to worry too much about the future."
She urged him to make time for the important things. Promised that, as a diplomatic envoy and honored guest of the kingdom, his family's needs would be taken care of if he chose to give up jeweling for a time.
When he denied being anything as grand as that, and objected to the special treatment, she offered a playful half-smile and threatened to forcefully close his business.
A week later, he started discussing adoption with his wife.
Their daughter was a bright-eyed, energetic filly. An earth pony. She reminded him of Pinkie Pie in some ways, but even more draining.
In what seemed like the blink of an eye, she discovered her cutie mark. His wife caught him staring at the paragraph one evening, and broached the subject neither had had the courage to explore.
By his request, his wife accompanied him on his next visit to Celestia. There was no study that night. Only a grand dinner and an evening of warm conversation. Celestia admitted that she'd suspected time would pass... differently for him.
"But that's no cause to fret. You and your daughter will live very wonderful lives together. I'm certain of it."
Hearing those words gave him more courage at the time than their memory did later on.
One day, his little filly became a little mare. In time, she was courted, and in what a painfully short time he'd become a grandfather.
After his wife's passing, he searched for other ways to pass the time. He'd continued his Bible transcriptions over the years, though as more of a hobby after the first complete volume. He began to practice calligraphy as a means of injecting more flair into the otherwise monotonous work.
His meetings with Celestia continued even after his wife's passing. Celestia had stopped asking about his daughter sometime after her own marriage, and now prompted no conversation about his family at all. Sometimes, though, he couldn't help but bring them up. At these times, she was as pleasant and bright as ever.
By the time he'd become a grandfather, he'd grown tired of the jeweler's life. His reclusiveness had left his fashions horribly out of date. He turned instead to watchmaking, reusing much of the skill he'd already acquired. By the time his first great-grandchild earned his cutie mark, his shop was filled with the quiet, steady ticking of dozens of clocks and watches. The harmonic chiming of three grandfather clocks, while not always welcomed by neighbors, eventually became a staple of that corner of Ponyville.
Only after age claimed his daughter did he realize how out of touch he'd grown with his own family, living in Manehatten. The funeral was grim and awkward, and he was regarded strangely by his great-grandson and granddaughter.
Of course, when he commented about this to Celestia, she urged him to form those connections. For once, he disregarded her advice.
The day came that Celestia sent him a missive congratulating him on the 300th anniversary of his arrival to Equestria. During the small dinner they shared, he made a request. Celestia regarded him somberly for a few moments, agreeing to do what he asked in a soft, quiet tone.
So it was that a balcony was created outside a stained glass window in the castle. Behind the glass, he worked day after day, selling his shop and moving into the castle. Eventually, the time came for the window to be removed, and he worked beneath a small pavilion, rarely seen.
Despite the closer quarters, his meetings with Celestia became no more frequent. He did, however, see more of Luna than he once had. She often came to keep him company while he worked, or to bring his meals when he missed them.
At first he tried to strike up conversation, but Luna wasn't a great conversationalist. Eventually, he just enjoyed the silence for what it was.
After nearly fifty years, it was unveiled. A grand, mechanical clock. He'd incorporated many designs, techniques, and ideas that had come to him in his many years as a watchmaker. Secrets and subtle variations that might not have been uncovered for generations. If ever.
It had given him something to look forward to.
After the completion of the project, for the first time Celestia approached him. Visiting him in the gear chamber, she delivered a list of names and addresses.
"What's this?" he asked.
"These are your descendants."
He narrowed his practiced eyes, studying her as he asked, "And what am I supposed to do with this?"
She smiled. That same soft, calm smile. "Whatever you wish." With that, she departed.
It was not long before he was burdened by the tedium of day-to-day life, as Celestia knew he would be. Before starting his journey, he gifted another of his Bibles to Luna, thanking her for watching over him during his great work. He promised Celestia they would resume their monthly meetings after he returned.
The list was longer than he would have expected. He made the journey on foot, passing from city to city, town to town. By the time he finished, he realized, the list may well have grown even longer. At first, he did nothing but observe. Taking note from a distance, seeing where his "kin," if they could so be called, found themselves in life. Most made no comment, no approach. Some, remembering stories of family history, approached him. These often invited him into their homes, where he'd try to recall stories to share.
Back in Ponyville, he found a little tomboy of a filly fending off bullies. He stepped in to help frighten away the obnoxious colts, using some made-up threat about pressure points and waggling his fingers menacingly.
The filly was a little frightened of him at first, but tried to hide it. He revealed the deception to her, and the two had a good laugh about it.
He asked about one of the names on the list, which turned out to be a schoolmate of hers. He thanked her for the directions.
After completing his journey, he wandered again through Ponyville. His old shop had seen several owners since he vacated. The structure had aged, and was in need of more love and attention than the rug-weaver in residence could offer.
When he spoke to the owner about buying the shop, he was surprised to hear the words come out of his mouth. He spent many of the following nights in the upstairs bedroom wondering why he'd bothered, before giving up looking for an answer.
The little filly he'd met years before had become a dashing little mare. He quickly learned that she habitually got herself into sticky situations. More than once he had to step in to help her.
As their friendship grew, he found himself smiling more and more, only then realizing that somewhere, in the past centuries, he'd stopped.
After a few years, he began noticing subtle cues. Comments about stallions and relationships, playful quips and remarks. They were rare, but these days a span of months seemed to carry less weight than they once did. At this age, one started to pay attention to different things in their day-to-day life.
He only smiled and feigned obliviousness. He was not surprised when the day came that she confessed her feelings for him.
With as much gentleness as he could manage, he rejected her. He treasured their friendship, but claimed not to see her in that light. He went so far as to lie and say that his first marriage had been hasty and ill-thought-out. There were differences between humans and ponies that couldn't be resolved.
The lies were bitter. His heart wrenched, he spent half the night brooding. He told himself saying "no" now would hurt less than saying "yes." He was never fully convinced.
He saw less and less of her after that. They remained friends, but a certain tension wore at them.
When he saw a stallion start to warm up to her, he made his decision. He announced that he would be closing shop again and returning to Canterlot.
It was a tearful parting, but she did not protest. They promised to continue writing.
Celestia was waiting in the entry hall when he returned, wearing the smile to which he'd grown accustomed. Slowly, they half-nodded, half-bowed at one another. Without speaking a single word, he made his way to his old room. It was exactly as he'd left it.
As they dined that night, Luna and Celestia prodded him for tales of his travels. He indulged them as much as he could, apologizing for not staying in touch.
Before parting for the night, Celestia suggested that Luna join them for their monthly Bible study.
He's almost forgotten about that. For the first time in years he turned to the Good Book. Slowly he paged through one of his manuscripts, fingers drifting over the pages as he marveled at the craftsmanship of the letters. Thinking with wonder at all the things he'd learned. Wondering where to go from here.
Drifting slowly from his reverie, he began to search for familiar passages which he felt would be a good introduction.
Celestia scheduled their session during a picnic lunch on a nearby grassy hillside. After delivering his message, Luna stared off into the distance and mused to herself.
"So this great hope... is to become part of a greater afterlife? To live forever in love, beside your brethren?"
After a moment's pause, he responded. "Yes, I suppose so."
Beside him, Celestia murmured, "They have such wonderful dreams, do they not?"
He turned to regard her, noting tears beginning to stream down her cheek as her gaze lay fixed on distant Canterlot.
She continued to wear that same soft, quiet smile.