Ol' Crackpot

Ol' Crackpot

Chapter One,

The Last Chapter

Canterlot lies in the centre. To its east lies a mountain range embedded with forests, lakes, green pastures, farms of all foods. Turn the other way and you find, weirdly enough, the other side of Equestria, with yet another range. The Unicorn Range, or Mountains, or Peaks. It doesn't matter what you'd prefer to call it even if commotion about the title led to the great magical spectacle, fought between Hoofer the Great, and Magilta the Fair. It was, while being the most stupidest reason to blow up an area the size of the five great temples of Cloudsdale, quite entertaining.

Fly over the mountains and you could, eventually, find a single tower standing tall amongst the snow. The tower has its' own short story. A proud unicorn stallion built it, bringing his family to live in their own little slice of the world. They weren't completely cut out from outside life even though the tower borders mountains for miles, almost without end. The mother and her four dearest siblings often made the trek to and from the nearest villages, though it was clearly a hassle. Once the foals had grown up, they and their mother left the tower, starting a much easier life in the nearby town of Hoofennan, and leaving the more than happy father to his tower.

They started off by visiting him almost every week. The weeks soon became months, then a couple, and finally only once a year, at the father's birthday. He didn't mind, though—he knew his siblings had much more important, engaging lives than his. All the more, he was given time. Time to think, study, and create. He turned from a strong builder, to a powerful and proud wizard.

* * *

Months passed as Ol' Crackpot harnessed his magical abilities on the moth in his study. He'd been writing page after page about the small creature, and the day had finally come to put theory into reality. He rose his achy hooves to the dusty table for balance, straining his horn as he focused his energy into the moth. It was hard work with the moth trying to get away all the time, terrified that the stallion was about to put an end to it. Beads of sweat formed on the unicorn's brow as his horn glowed brighter, filling the room until...

*POOF*

From where the moth lay sprung a new, brisk, and beautiful butterfly. It flapped its' wings enthusiastically, turning a loop in the space above Ol' Crackpot's desk. The wrinkly elder smiled, wiping his brow of the liquid that formulated. He sparked his horn up with the same beige glow, levitating a quill resting in an ink pot to his notes on the desk. He smiled as he began to write. "The experiment was a complete succe-"

He heard a knock from the front door, and stopped what he was doing. The once levitating quill fell down onto the desk, smearing its' ink around where it lay. Ol' Crackpot was confused at who it could be. His birthday was only a few months ago. Or was it? He didn't keep track very often. He didn't even know how old he was until the family told him. Nevertheless, he was happy that he'd meet somepony else once more. He would tell them about his experiments, his attempts and failures at some things, but his successes too. With one so soon after they'd arrived! The ancient stallion was ecstatic at having some company, especially well-timed company. He shifted off his stool, took a well deserved stretch, and ambled downstairs to the front room, bordering the layered rock that made up his tower.

He soon approached the front door, and carefully placed a hoof on the doorknob to open it. With all the stress inducing magic he'd just been performing, he didn't want a headache using magic. An aged stallion such as he needed to keep in top physical shape at all times.

The door creaked open, with the outside elements ever so louder and colder than he remembered them last time. He basked in wonder as he rubbed his eyes. There were a great deal of ponies behind his door, all thickly clothed, and very difficult to see in the weather. He could just make out his daughter Remedy, and graciously stepped aside to allow them all entrance.

"W-Welcome, welcome! Welcome to my sons and daughters, welcome to my son's sons, and my son's daughters, my daughter's sons, and my daughter's daughters. And welcome, welcome... who are these other ponies?" Ol' Crackpot said, placing a hoof above his eyes to block the snowstorm.

"Your great-grand foals, father," Remedy chuckled. "They were too young last time, but the most of them plucked up the courage to follow family tradition and meet you this year. Don't add them to your list of welcomes, if you could. I think it's better if we lay off such a superb greeting," she laughed.

"Well, I... I suppose I could shorten it down," he said, frowning. "but isn't such an opening proper for the occasion?"

"You spoil us father, when we should be spoiling you! It's your ninety-seventh birthday, and we came to celebrate it. I don't think anypony has ever lived that long before, ever."

The coated and cloaked ponies piled in to the lower rooms of the tower, making it quite difficult to move around. There were now wizened adults, his own children, right down to bouncing foals with ten times the energy he had. Ol' Crackpot looked through the room at his new acquaintances, before speaking up to all of them. "Would anypony like to see revolutionary magic, the likes your eyes have never seen?"

The foals jumped twice as high as they had before, and the whole family moved up the staircase in line. Crackpot even worked out a schedule every year his family journeyed over. He made spare rooms designated for his older magic, moving up finally to his study at the top, with all the newest and interesting experiments he'd created.

By now, the tower was more a museum than anything else. The only exceptions to this being the bedroom and dining room. The dining room housed the family's annual feast, and what a feast they had. Crackpot over the years mastered the magic of culinary excellence, being able to magically create masterpieces that surprised everypony each year. The old pony was going to amaze this year. As he readied himself to prepare dishes while the excited crowd peered at his notes and magical marvels in the other rooms, he was stopped.

* * *

"Excuse me father, but... we need a talk. It's important we do it before dinner." The old stallion turned at the voice. It was Remedy, and she wasn't by herself. Standing by her sides with an uneasy air were his two other surviving children, the stallions Pastel, and Bolter.

"It's something we feel we need to talk about, today," Pastel said.

"Well, if you say so, but do be quick about it, children. I haven't got all the time in the world to prepare a feast. In a short while those foals will be bored, and hungry as dragons, you know."

"I... agree. You don't have all the time in the world. That's what we need to talk about," Remedy whispered.

"Say a bit louder, child? What do we need to talk about?" Crackpot asked, sincerely.

Remedy sighed, turning towards the floor. She raised her voice, braking it as she did so. "I-I said-"

"We need to talk about you passing on," Bolter stated clearly. The stallion was disgusted of himself for doing so, with his own view quickly to the floor after.

His father looked at the three of them, pausing briefly. "You don't say," he spoke, unfazed. "Well, it'd be a lot easier if you look up when you're speaking, eh?"

"Sorry," the three unicorns apologized in unison, stiffening up to look him right in the eye. Remedy's face turned redder by the second, her primrose pink coat glistening with newly formed tears as they trailed down.

"Oh, don't get emotional about it. Everything in Equestria has its' time, and I'm lucky I lived as long as I have. Celebrate the days I've had and have with you, sons and daughter. I know I will!"

Pastel spoke up. "It's not about when you go, father. It's how you want to go."

Crackpot filled with shock at the comment. He made an effort to look serious. "You, you know about it?"

"Yes," he muttered, "we want to make sure we do what's best for you. And that's the problem, because we can't wait forever. If you go when we aren't here, you'll never get that final wish. If... that's how you want to go, that is."

Crackpot sighed, taking a moment to think. He looked at a hoof by his side, an old, wrinkled hoof. He put a glow to his horn. The hoof  changed colour to a blue, then red, then yellow. He reversed the spell, and brought it down beside the other. The room was still in the awkward silence he left it in.

"I'm surprised," he started, "that you found out. I didn't know my foals were so smart, and I'm very happy for it. This is of course a very grim topic, but one I think is right for the moment. You're very thoughtful, and very brave for bringing it up today."

"So," Remedy sniffed, "what's yo-you're wish? We're fine, either way you want to do it."

Her father's eyes met her own, and he spoke. "My sweet Remedy. I haven't helped out nearly enough as I should have with you all. I admit, my magic is, or has been, my life. I've spent years, decades here, isolating myself from the world. I would be honoured to do it, today, in order to bring you all a better, and happier future." The old stallion patted his daughter on the shoulder. "Tonight will be the night. Don't tell the foals, but let your children watch. I'm sure they're old enough to handle it, and it'll do them good to learn a thing or two." He paused with a short chuckle, and took a quick glance at the door and back again. "Why, pray tell, did you ask me before dinner?"

Remedy spoke, tears already having filled her eyes. "We didn't want to seem ungrateful."

Crackpot pushed his foreleg down. "Pshaw. And miss out the best feast of your life? One thing's being grateful, the other's being plum silly. Come! We'll eat and drink 'til we're merry, and say our final goodbyes with happiness in our hearts."

Ol' Crackpot led his sons and daughter to the table with a jig. He laid the table with his magic, spontaneously appearing plates with salads, vegetables and fruits, the apples gloriously shiny and the celery crunchier than deemed plausible. He beckoned for the rest of his family, and they arrived, astonished at the miracle-making of the old stallion in front of them. They began to eat, chatting happily, all the while with some questioning the behaviours of their parents or grandparents. While joining in somewhat reluctantly with everyone else, they looked as if they had each wept a mountain the size of the ones outside the tower they feasted in.

* * *

It was a cool night in Crackpot's bedroom. Not at all like the snowstorm outside. One would think that being inside a wizards' house, it would be he that was warming it, but this simply wasn't the truth. The warmth had come from the quantity of ponies that stood around him, some also carrying candles to light the otherwise dark room. Crackpot was standing beside his bed, his head rummaging through a small cupboard.

"Ah... here it is."

He brought the object out held with his teeth, placing it on the cupboard top. It was a shard of bluish crystal, still and dull as any other.

"You're sure you want to do this?" Pastel asked.

"My boy, it's like a dream come true. A peaceful dream, that never ends."

The ancient stallion brought himself onto the bed. The group watched as he paused momentarily, breathing with deep, long breaths. He raised himself up, and took a decorated book from by his side.

"Heh," he muttered, "and to think the late Geldber Bon boasted the magnitude of his own before he passed. Sent in the mail, he did. He may have been a crystalborn, but he won't beat Ol' Crackpot, I promise you."

Crackpot flipped across pages, and halfway through it, he found his page. Placing a hoof on the paper, he began to read aloud as his horn glowed. "Blue as the sky, green as the grass. My own, connected, to this shard I pass."

His horn's glow became stronger, filling up the room as it did earlier that day.

"Let forever my feeling, my wisdom, be turned to what I please for my family, my friends, my kingdom. Whoever in the living world possesses it, may I be of service, my strength, my wit."

To the shock of some ponies in the room, the once beige glow changed colour, turning into a wicked green. The green glow encapsulated the shard on the cupboard as well as himself. Sparks flew from his horn, and he continued to read.

"My journey ends, I proclaim it done. And 'til this crystal be broken, my spirit lives on."

A burst of green energy filled the room, stunning those surrounding him. Some of the younger ponies cried out in horror and dropped their candles, extinguishing the lights before they set a fire. The room became visible again within seconds. There, on the bed, lay the old stallion.

He held a grin, but the ponies beside him, at least his children, knew it was his last. Beside the table was the crystal shard. It glowed now a radiant blue, lighter than any candle could've been.

"He was right," Remedy said, clearing away her tears. She smiled faintly. "This glows greater than Geldber's crystal, far greater, and he did it for us. He gave us a gift nopony could give. He... he gave us his lifepower."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

* * *

"W-What happened?" asked one Pastel's sons, Fen, back at home in Hoofennan. "What was that?"

"Your grandfather is gone, Fen, but he hasn't completely left us. He split himself with a spell written in that book," he said, pointing at the dark tome.

"Why in Tartarus would he do that?"

"It's strange, I know, but... it's for the good of us. I think it would be better if I told you properly." Pastel levitated the book to his lap, opening it up on the right page.

"'The Spelle of Encant', as it's written, or enchanting spell as we now call it. The tome says, 'To leave upon Equestria a fragment of the past.' It fuses the magical power of one individual to an object. It's used sparingly, and not many ponies know it. Any object which is enchanted, you name it; books, jewellery, anything. It's all made the same way. Father used a crystal, because he wanted to let us use it how we wanted. Souls in crystals can be fused to enchant anything, using another spell."

"Can anypony enchant things when they pass?" Fen asked.

"Technically, yes. The book says that different ponies have different power levels, though. An average earth pony, it says, could barely enchant a stone to hover. It says that only those with strong magic can make a strong enchantment. It's why unicorns like father have such strong enchantments. Inherently, crystalborn make the strongest, while unicorns are the second. Pegasi and earth ponies are significantly worse."

Fern made a puzzled look to his father. "Crystalborn? Why are they better than unicorns? They don't use magic."

Pastel shook his head. "I don't know. The book contradicts itself. 'The Crystalborn, those Unhorned, are of strongest souls.' The pegasus and earth ponies don't have horns... yet they have much worse enchantments," he sighed. "I bet father would've known."

There was an awkward pause between the two. Pastel levitated the tome back to his shelf, where he let it rest to the side. Fen looked up to Pastel. "...What do you think yours, or mine'll be like?"

Pastel smiled. "Mine? Nothing compared to his. I've spent half my life already, and I'm barely a powerful wizard. You're young, and you have plenty of time. If you really want to, you could become as wise and strong magically as even he was, maybe more. Don't fret if you don't. He lived his life through a single path. You live how you want to."