Big Macintosh enjoyed his privacy and rest in the root cellar below the main house of Sweet Apple Acres. His bedroom had never been a place of solitude, since it was where he went to collapse at the end of a hard day’s work and, more often than not, was invaded by visiting family members, or sisters and a grandmother who never knocked. He couldn’t find rest in the field: there was always work that had to be done, and Big Mac was too disciplined not to avoid it when he saw it.
The root cellar was his fortress of solitude: a little oasis under the ground. It had been decades since it had been used for food storage, as newer and more modern structures were built to store the family’s crops. A single lamp overhead illuminated the room. Wood panels and flooring covered the stone walls and dirt floor to hold back the chill and make the cellar a little easier to clean. A single desk and shelf sat near the stairway that led upstairs, where every morning, like clockwork, Big Macintosh took care of the farm’s paperwork before handling the manual labour. The back of the cellar contained boxes of family heirlooms and documents.
Big Macintosh sat at the desk, looking at a first class package that he had to go to the post office to sign for and retrieve. After a few moments, completing whether or not to open it, he decided to open the letter that had come with the package.
To my favourite Grand Nephew Big Mac,
Let me begin by apologizing for the way this letter was sent, and taking you away from the farm to retrieve it. I didn’t want to risk your Grandmother finding it and having a fit. You know how upset she gets when the Crystal Apple Tree Grove is mentioned.
Anyway, after years of research I have finally found a clue to the origin of the Apple Blossoms. While searching through old archives in Stallionguard, in the North, I discovered a book that contained a picture of a Crystal Apple Tree. I may finally be able to find a grove of that isn’t in the Everfree Forest. The problem is that the book is written in language from the pre-classic era Equestria. Despite my best efforts I have not been able to find a translator. Till is having some health issues. We will be moving to Los Pegasus to work with some specialists. It’s nothing that you or your sisters have to rush out to see her one last time, but right now my place is by my wife’s side.
I have decided to leave my dream to you. The Crystal Apple trees were intended for the farm, and should be found and taken care of by some pony still there. One of my pressed flowers should still be in my old trunks in the basement. I hope you can find some pony who can help with the translation and the search.
Good luck.
Sincerely,
Your Great Uncle Johnny
Big Macintosh paused for a moment before opening the package with the letter. An ancient leather-bound book awaited him. Lacking any formal training in Unicorn magic even he could feel the layer of magic that preserved the pages. He opened the book to a page that contained a bookmark.
In there, he discovered the beautifully detailed drawing of an apple tree. It was pale and translucent, the bark and the branches looked like glass instead of wood. Larger drawings of the flowers and leaves also indicated they were like glass and light seemed to shine within them. The apples themselves were not see-through as the flesh of the fruit looked like a normal apple, but the apple skin appeared to be thick and transparent. The tree was tall and lithe compared to the short, stocky apple trees the stallion was used to, and looked like they would shatter under the lightest buck.
The stallion drooled slightly as he imagined the taste.
A few hours later, the stallion opened half of the boxes in the basement. What he searched through had been temporarily dragged to the first floor where Applejack discovered his mess.
“Macintosh Apple, what are you up to?” Applejack asked as she descended the stairs. She was glad Granny Smith and Applebloom weren’t home; the elderly mare would have had a fit over the mess, and her sister would have wanted to join in.
“Just looking for something,” Big Macintosh said as he emerged from the gloom of the basement. His fur had turned a rusty colour from the years of dust that now covered him.
“You need help?’
“Nah, I’m fine.”
“Well, if you say so. You better clean that mess upstairs, before Granny Smith gets back,” Applejack warned. Her brother ignored her as his eyes darted back to not yet searched boxes. “You sure you don’t want help?”
“Stop fretting. I’ll have everything cleaned up soon.”
“Alright, just holler if you need anything. I’ll be in the fields,” Applejack said before she left.
Big Macintosh sighed in relief after his sister left, and grinned broadly after finally discovering the item he had been searching for. A small trunk with a four-leaf clover carved into the lid, the Cutie Mark of Granny Smith’s youngest brother, Johnny Apple Seed. Opening the box, he discovered a variety of items: bags of ancient seeds, old clothes, a moth-eaten Stetson hat, a gourd like the type that hung from Zecora’s home, a griffon’s war mask, a Diamond Dog’s collar and several old journals. At the bottom of the trunk, buried under everything else, was the oldest journal with a faded rainbow cover. The pages had turned yellow with age, and the second half of the journal contained water stains. The first part of the journal was mostly intact, and it was there Big Macintosh found several maps of the Everfree Forest, a pressed apple blossom, and a crude drawing of a Crystal Apple Tree. The apple blossom was transparent and crystal-like, with light shining through it when he held up at the right angle.
Carefully closing the journal around the flower, Big Macintosh headed upstairs to hide his find before beginning the task of cleaning his mess.
The following evening, Big Macintosh went to the library with the journal and book nestled safely in his saddle bags. Light streamed out through the windows, and the sign on the doorway was flipped to open.
Twilight Sparkle was in the middle of something big, that much was certain. Hidden from view from him by several chalk boards, Big Macintosh only knew she was there by the furious scratch of her quill. Spike was about to crawl under one of the chalkboards, his claws filled with even more scrolls, when he noticed the stallion standing in the doorway.
“Twilight,” Spike said.
“Spike, let me finish this equation,” Twilight answered, pausing for a moment before continuing.
“We have a guest,” Spike said.
“I’m here to speak with Miss Sparkle,” Big Macintosh spoke up. “I can come back at another time.”
“It’s alright. I’m done for the day,” Twilight said. Her horn briefly glowed as she gathered her magic. A sizzle and spark followed as she released the energy in wave of purple light that enveloped her scrolls and chalkboards. They floated several inches in the air before neatly stacking themselves in a corner of a room.
Big Macintosh paused, blinking rapidly for a moment, as the flashes of light from Twilight’s magic temporarily dazed him. “I could come back at another time if you need me to.”
“That’s alright. How may I help you?” Twilight asked.
“I need some help with research, actually,” Big Macintosh said as he pulled the saddle bag off of his back and placed it on a nearby table.
Spike groaned. “No more studying. Twilight’s already been stuck in the library for a week working on a teleportation spell.”
“The stored teleportation spell was a request by Princess Luna herself, Spike,” Twilight said. “Though I guess you could use a break. Why don’t you go to Sugarcube Corner and get yourself a gem-encrusted cookie?”
“Really?”
“Yes, go enjoy yourself.”
“See you later,” Spike replied as he quickly left.
“I could leave too if you want a break,” Big Macintosh suggested, feeling guilty about disrupting Twilight during her studies.
“You don’t have to. A day or two studying something new will give me time to clear my head. What did you bring me?”
“This,” Big Macintosh said as he opened the saddle bag to reveal the journal and book. Twilight gently lifted the aged items with her magic and placed them under a lamp to look more closely. “It’s a journal that belonged to Johnny Apple Seed, Granny Smith’s brother. Also, a book he sent me from Stallionguard.”
“That name sounds familiar.” Twilight opened the book. The magic of the spells that preserved the ancient pages tingled in her aura.
“You might know him as John Seed, he wrote some books,” Big Macintosh said.
“The John Seed, the botanical researcher who travelled the world discovering over a dozen new species of magical plants? He is supposed to be one of the inspirations for Daring Do,” Twilight squealed as she flipped through the book, discovering the drawings and foreign scripts. She then put down the book to search through the journal.
“Be careful, it’s old and contains something special,” Big Macintosh said. He opened the page with the pressed apple blossom. Twilight held it with her magic and carefully examined the flower.
“Is this crystal?” Twilight asked.
“It’s actually a flower, I think anyway,” Big Macintosh said; he scratched his mane as he chose his words carefully. “My great Uncle Johnny found some when he was a colt and has been searching for the trees those flowers belonged to.”
“So the one thing he wanted he could never find,” Twilight said. She paused to think before she picked up a magnifying lens with her magic to inspect the flower more closely.
Big Macintosh's eyes darted back and forth between Twilight and the flower before he spoke. “He found them while lost in the Everfree when he was dehydrated, delirious, and in a lot of pain. He was never able to figure out where they were in those woods, and had been searching other places since.”
“So you want to see if I can find where the flower came from?” Twilight asked.
“I’d really like to find the tree. You’ve seen the Zap Apples, imagine the apples this tree might produce,” Big Macintosh went a little starry-eyed at the thought.
“It would be my pleasure. Your sisters and grandmother are going to be so excited about this.” Twilight started to get excited over a new research opportunity and being able to share it with her friends.
Big Macintosh shuffled his massive hooves before speaking. “Do you think we could keep this between us? The flower is a bit of a sore spot for Granny Smith. Finding the tree would be a nice surprise for her and my uncle, but he doesn’t want her to know until after the tree is found.”
Twilight’s scrunched her nose momentarily before she spoke. “I don’t like the idea of keeping a secrets from Applejack.”
Big Macintosh paused then said, “I want this to be a surprise for my granny, and both my sisters are horrible at keeping secrets from her. Could you do it for me, please?”
“I’ll keep it just between you and me, for now. I’ll get back to you in a couple of days. If I remember correctly, John Seed went to college in Manehattan. Maybe Trottingham or the Canterlot Archives has some books he never researched.” Twilight didn’t say goodbye to Big Macintosh as she dashed to her bedroom to begin writing letters.
Big Macintosh left her to her research.
Author's Note
I am aware that Big Macintosh's official spelling is Big McIntosh, but I like Macintosh better. Anyway this story takes place early in season two. There are going to be small AU elements, but not enough to justify a tag.
