An Old Beginning
She glanced up at the clock and chewed on the tips of her hooves anxiously. They can’t be that much longer, Twilight told herself, as she trotted across the star-studded, golden dish plastered in the center of the room, to her crystalline throne. She sat slumped over, tapping her hoof against the arm of the throne with her purple eyes darting all over her castle--the high ceiling, dangling a chandelier of tree roots and glimmering gems, the turquoise window panes, and leather sea of violet encasing the room.
She raised her foreleg to wipe sweat from her mane, then began to fan herself; her nerves were starting to get the best of her.
Her mind was scattered, imagination flourishing, spreading like a virus. If Twilight had to keep in her thoughts much longer she would explode. She was excited, like a foal on the first day of school. Trying not to stay idle for long, Twilight walked into the kitchen to see Spike, baking away in preparation for later.
“How’s it coming?” Twilight asked, walking over to the little purple dragon. She laid her head just above his green scales and saw him mixing a thick batter.
Spike moved his eyes upward and tilted his head back just enough to see the shadow of Twilight’s purple mane above him, “So far, everything has come out great,” he said, motioning his claw over to a buffet of treats.
She directed her violet eyes to where he pointed and nodded, followed by a satisfied hm. She opened her mouth to speak, but her attention was turned as she heard a sharp ding. Her mouth curled up, and she ran out of the kitchen only to hear another sharp ding from behind her. Her smile turned to an annoyed frown as she headed back inside. Entering the kitchen she looked over to see Spike pulling a batch of apple cinnamon cookies out of the oven, which gave off another ding as he closed the door. He began, “You know it was the--”
“I know,” the mulberry-coated mare said, warranting a chuckle from Spike.
She sighed for about the millionth time today before turning out of the kitchen. Heading up to her library upstairs, she grabbed a spell book, and returned back downstairs to Spike.
Upon returning to the room, she twitched her nose, filling her nostrils with the irresistible smell of apple cinnamon tart and fresh dough from a bakery. “Those smell delicious,” she said.
Spike untied his apron and slipped off his oven mitts, revealing his puffed out chest, “They do if I do say so myself,” he said, ogling the cookies. His gaze shifted from a proud one to a desirous one. He raised his claws and wriggled his fingers around, slowly moving towards them. “I bet they taste even better.”
Quickly, Twilight slipped the tray out of Spike’s reach using her magic. “Thanks, Spike. I appreciate the help.” She smiled gratefully, not allowing Spike to see her hint of disappointment, but leaving him wagging his tail like a dog.
She pranced into the other room, dragging the tray of cookies behind her, above Spike’s grasp.
After placing the tray on the arm of her throne and spending a few minutes talking with her dragon assistant, the doorbell rang.
"Spike, the oven's going off again."
Spike looked up from his comic book and gave Twilight a deadpan look, before pointing a finger towards the hallway and sticking his nose back into his comic book.
Twilight heard the doorbell ring again and her face lit up like a filly's during her first Hearth’s Warming. She jumped up and with a glow of her horn she was at the door, opening to see the faces of her five best friends in the world.
“Oh, thank Celestia, you’re here! I couldn’t wait any longer!” She beamed, hurrying them inside before they could exchange greetings. “Follow me. I have something to show you,” Twilight said, leading them down the long hallway that led into the throne room. After her friends exchanged a few muffled whispers and odd glances amongst themselves, Twilight began to explain. She was typically more cordial, but this rare occurrence put her friends on caution.
When they finally arrived in the main room, they sat down in their allocated thrones, each of which had a symbol in the backing emulating the ones on their flanks. Twilight sat down and pulled out the book she grabbed from the library. “Oh! I remember that book,” Pinkie said, instantly recognizing its mundane leather cover and bizarre, coin-looking emblem, “It’s the one we ripped that time spell out of when Cerbery got loose and you changed your mane because the world was going to end but it didn’t end, but it was all ok in the end and everything was amazing again. Well, except for the fact you were kind of, maybe, just a teensy-weensy bit clinically insane for the next few weeks.” She grinned with a little squeak, her teeth sparkling as she fluttered her eyelids over her light-blue eyes.
“Not to mention that atrocity of a mane,” Rarity added inaudibly, with a vague recall of the situation. If it wasn’t for the disastrous mane and “bold” style choice she was sure she would have forgotten all about it.
Twilight nodded to Pinkie, “Yes, that one. Well, I’ve been thinking...” She paused as the other ponies leaned in. Twilight had gone on and on about her “big idea” and “groundbreaking possibilities” in the hallway, so they had every reason to literally be at the edge of their seats.
Before she opened her mouth to tell them, she drew back, scrunching up her face, giving a very quizzical look to the rest of them, allowing them to bat glances at each other and silently nudge the other to speak. And of course, the honest pony was nominated. With a roll of her eyes and a quiet sigh Applejack put on a soft smile. “Sugarcube, nopony is gonna judge you for an idea. Right, y’all?” Applejack finished sternly.
She and the others turned to stare at a multi-colored pegasus. Slouching in her chair, Rainbow Dash perked up to see four pairs of eyes glaring at her. “What?” she exclaimed, offended that they would think so lowly of her, even though it was up her alley.
Applejack broke her green eyes from the glare and looked back at Twilight, saying, “Whenever ya want, Sugarcube.”
Twilight put her hoof to her chin and moved her face to and fro. She wanted to tell them, she truly did. But how? Seconds passed before she finally opened her mouth, “Well, in the book, there is a spell, one that would let anypony travel back in time, back to when Star Swirl was still alive, making scientific discoveries and awing millions of ponies with his work, or maybe--maybe back to when Celestia was in rule, a thousand and one years ago, back when she banished Luna to the moon, casting her sister into solitude, leaving herself alone, isolated, idle to regret the choice she made--”
“--What’s your point?” Rainbow interrupted. Applejack cleared her throat loudly in annoyance. Rainbow looked over to see two green, marble-like eyes boring into her and gave a nervous giggle, slicking her mane back as if nothing happened. “Uh, sorry, Twi,” she said, trying to combat the eyes of Applejack.
“It’s fine. Now, my point was--” She glanced over to Dash, making sure it was ok to continue. After seeing an unamused eye roll, she continued, “With this spell, imagine all the things we could experience, all the wonders of the past we could live. Rarity, you could go back and meet some of the most iconic designers to ever live. Fluttershy, you could go back and see all the extinct animals of the past. Even you Rainbow. Have you ever wanted to race alongside General Firefly?”
Rainbow’s eyes widened, and she squealed, “The General Firefly? The one and only, the cornerstone, the best Wonderbolt of all time?” She inched closer to Twilight, nearly falling out of her seat. “That…would be… AWESOME.” Her eyes narrowed and her tongue slipped out of her mouth as she began to dream.
“Revolting,” their achromatic friend said in response to her friend’s actions. “Now, a visage of some of the most exquisite work from the past? That would be divine. Let me say it again: absolutely di-vine. Seeing work from Mareeanee Hoofingquin, that would be one for the scrapbook. Her flawless technique and enchanting, absolutely gorgeous gallery. Why, it’s simply breathtaking. And don’t even get me started on Elsa Horshoepalli, such a fabulous designer with such unique...style and flare. My, my if I got even a minute with her--” she suddenly quieted herself. By now, she was standing up on her hind legs, one leg on the arm of the throne and the other in the center of it. She looked around awkwardly. Even with all her outbursts, it was still an attention-grabbing event every time.
The yellow mare to Rainbow’s right added, “I guess seeing dodo birds would be rather exciting, too.” Seeing any new animal was exciting to her; a whole new adventure, a whole ‘nother story, all to the same magnitude of, if not more than, a pony’s story.
Engrossment filled the room, and Twilight smiled, glad to see the others actually appreciating her thought. Rarity was head over hooves, obsessing over her fantasies. Fluttershy was excited--Twilight could see it; Fluttershy didn’t have to act extravagant for others to know she was thinking about some exotic animal and herself, chatting away over tea and cucumber sandwiches. And Rainbow--her agape jaw and limp tongue said it all. Her cerise eyes had fireworks in them, waiting to be lit as she and General Firefly took flight before thousands of ponies.
Twilight was excited and surprised. She knew it was a risky idea to present. hay, she doubted it so much that she almost didn’t share, but now she was glad she had.
Before she could call it a worthwhile idea, an alto “Ahem” broke the peace. She turned her head to see their orange counterpart with her mane in a ruffle. “Uh, am ah the only who, uh, finds this to be a bit, uh...dangerous?” she asked, worried for herself and her friends.
The attention was shifted to Applejack’s concern, but before it could be addressed Pinkie Pie cut in, laughing, “Dangerous? Time travel?” she snorted, “Don’t be silly. I do it all the time.”
“No you don’t.” Rarity argued. “That’s absolutely absurd!”
“Ever heard of the great Yakinstanian war?”
“Dear, there is no such war.”
“Exactly!”
Rarity rolled her eyes and shook her head, “Whatever will we do with you?” She said before pausing, recollecting herself and digressing, “Well, darling, I don’t think Twilight ever said anything about actually going into the past--That’s where you were going, wasn’t it?” Rarity said.
Twilight’s eyes said it all: she did, in fact, mean such things. Ever since she was a filly, Twilight dreamt of going back in time to meet iconic figures in history, most notably, Star Swirled the Bearded. Star Swirl was a legend in his time; he made magic what it was today.
Twilight gave a sheepish smile in response to her friends’ newfound thinking. She was unsure if they approved or disapproved. Scratching her hoof on the left arm of the throne, she took the safer route and put up her guard, “Yes, but look at all the things we could do, that we could experience, that we could learn--”
“--Twilight,” Applejack interjected with a stern tone, “This came together quicker than a jack-rabbit hoppin’ out of a cabbage patch. What’s the meanin’ of it?” Applejack scowled, confused. Despite not telling her, she was rather dismissive of the idea. Time travel? That just wasn’t natural, not for her, not even for a magical pony like Twilight. It was just about as dangerous as witchcraft or sorcery. What was the difference? She didn’t know, but what she did know was it was no good for anypony.
Twilight had to admit, it was out of the blue. Now, with everypony waiting for her response (minus the loose-jawed Dash), she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t have much of a reason besides learning’s sake and personal desire. Come to think of it, what would Princess Celestia say? Traveling back in time was a captivating idea, but the fact she didn’t consult the princess before pursuing such a risky endeavor was a bit out of the ordinary for her. Then again, that had been happening quite a bit as of late.
Ever since Twilight had become a princess, it was only natural that she become more independent, ceasing to rely on Celestia for decision making and stopping herself from referencing guide books to tell her what to do. She grew into a free-minded mare, her own mare. Sure, she didn’t cut loose completely, especially from reading; whether she applied the book or not, she would read it. That’s just who Twilight was. And part of who she was was the desire to explore, to learn and experience. But lately, she hadn’t been able to do that.
“Well, there wasn’t really a catalyst to this. It was just me wanting to do something exciting with my friends. It sure beats dumb ol’ princess work,” she sighed. That’s what her life had become the last few months: “Dumb ol’ princess work”. Her friends were sent all over Equestria, assigned missions of friendship by their enchanted map, and she stayed in her dull castle, working day in and day out.
Applejack looked at Twilight, whose eyes were half-closed, thinned by doubt. It wasn’t her intent to make Twilight second-guess her idea; she was only skeptical. Yeah, she was no fan of it, but she had to admit she knew just about nothing of Twilight’s idea besides the general givens of time travel. It sounded intimidating.
“Sugarcube, ah ain’t tryna knock yer idea. It’s just that, uh...It seems awful, uh, dangerous and risky, y’know?” Applejack said, doubting herself. On one hoof, she wanted Twilight to at least explain, but on the other, her fear overtook her.
Twilight ruffled her feathers and moved her eyes up while her head was still hanging. Her eyes met Applejack’s. They were as vibrant and green as always, but rarely anypony saw them like this: confused. “I, well, I just thought we could do something...together.”
Applejack cringed. The truth of Twilight’s pain pierced her like a thousand tiny needles picking at her skin. The typically understanding, empathizing mare was caught off-guard. “Wh-What do ya mean? We do tons of stuff, don’t we?”
“We do, but--” Twilight paused, wary of how to voice her thoughts, “It feels like, ever since, when… It feels like we aren’t as close as we used to be. We still make time and see each other consistently, but it doesn’t feel true. At least, not like it use to.”
The room was silent and inanimate, filled with heavy hearts and tired eyes. When was the last time they were all together? Days? Weeks? Months? Pinkie probably knew but whenever it was it was far too long ago. Twilight couldn’t be more right, someone was always busy or something got in their way--hers especially. Being a Princess, of course she’d be more engaged elsewhere, whether it be in the Crystal Empire with her sister-in-law, in Canterlot with the princesses or home, up beyond reasonable hours, coordinating national events or organizing meetings with delegates that she’d have to go out and meet the very next day, wide-eyed, bushy-tailed, gleaming as if there weren’t a thing wrong in the world. A hard act to pull off, but she managed to do it.
Applejack tipped her hat over her head, casting a shadow over her drooped muzzle. It wasn’t intentional, but nonetheless, she made a mistake. As much as she hated to say anything against her own personal beliefs, she thought it was only fair. She spoke, cautiously, “Ah’m willing to, uh, this here idea of yers. Not makin’ no promises--”
“Really? You want to hear about it? I thought it was--”
“Don’t worry about that.” Applejack forced a small smile, revealing her sympathy plastered in her scrunched up eyes and on her rosy cheeks.
Twilight unleashed a smile, “Thanks, AJ.” She said. “Now, if you recall the spell--”
“I do!” an excited Pinkie Pie, or rather, a more-excited-than-usual Pinkie Pie, blurted out. Rarity’s horn lit a light blue as she used telekinesis and snatched a cookie from across the room. Hurling it into Pinkie Pie’s mouth to silence her with apple-cinnamony goodness.
Rarity’s eyes shifted from a now-occupied Pinkie Pie to the purple mare with the plan. “Continue,” she said.
Twilight’s eyes widened as she saw Pinkie’s mouth stuffed. Admittedly, she was happy to be able to speak, but that was a bit rude. Then again, Pinkie didn’t seem to mind it.
Digressing from her thoughts, she spoke, “Thank you. Now, I have made a few alterations to the spell and they should be able to help us. Applejack, I know you’re concerned, and that’s my fault. I should have explained this earlier. With time travel like this, it really isn’t time travel at all. It’s the M-Theory.”
Applejack raised a brow and cut loose with her southern drawl. “Say wha?” she asked, confused. “M-Theory? What in the hay is that?”
“The M-Theory--The Multiverse Theory--is a theory of multiple universes that resemble, but are different from, our own. In multiversal travel, there are different “shells” independent of other shells. You could do whatever you want in one shell and it wouldn’t affect the timeline of another shell. Theoretically, if you were to mess up something in one shell it wouldn’t affect another shell at all. Essentially, it isn’t really multiversal as it is paraversal, a hypothetical collection of universes reflecting our own just with a few undetectable modifications. ”
Applejack blinked unconsciously, as did the other four, signaling Twilight to muster up a different explanation or demonstration to get her point across. A few awkward moments passed before a bright lightbulb appeared above her. She smiled and said, “Think of Equestria with no consequences. It’s a world like our own, but it’s not. A different version, more or less,” Twilight finished.
The tall room echoed with understanding ohs and giggles. Emerging from the laughter was Pinkie’s shrill voice. “Why didn’t you just say so, silly,” she said with her white teeth beaming and her light cerulean eyes bulging.
Twilight blushed, realizing her explanation was over their heads. Strangely enough, Pinkie’s inexplicable Pinkie Sense didn’t pick up on her elaborate description. She was frequently able to break down Twilight’s convoluted rationales, but she couldn’t with this one. Perhaps it was too complicated? No, this was much simpler than previous accounts. Perhaps it wasn’t complicated enough? No, that wouldn’t make sense. Then again, just about nothing with Pinkie Pie made sense.
Applejack, who didn’t involve herself in the clamor in order to think, voiced her new-found thinking. “Well, Sugarcube, ah reckon it ain’t nothin’ like ah imagined. Ah’m trustin’ ya know what it is yer doing? And ya mean what ya say?” She inquired, awaiting confirmation. She could never be too sure with these kinds of things. Twilight was the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to magic, but that wasn’t enough to prevent clouds of doubt from casting over her.
“Awesome!” A raspy female voice erupted before a flash of blue dashed over to Twilight to shake her, “Then what are we waiting for!” She yelled.
Twilight tumbled back, seeing Rainbow’s eyes ogling her up close. Nevertheless, she was overjoyed to see some enthusiasm from them.
Ensuing Rainbow’s gesture, Rarity said, “Yes, darling, if it isn’t too much of a bother I’d like to try this out...soon. You have piqued my interest.” She couldn’t help but think about ravishing gems, interwoven into a scarlet gown, one of Hoofingquin’s specialties.
Twilight grinned. “If everypony is on board, I’m sure I could do it now. I’d just need to run some calculations first.” She said, walking off to the library to toy with some numbers and projections.
A few minutes later, she returned, confident and inclined to make this project happen. “Now, we just need to find out where we’re going. Or, should I say, when we’re going,” she said, awarding her awkward gawks and a vociferous groan from Rainbow.
The inattentive assistant, who had had his snout buried in his comic book the whole time, looked up and glared at Twilight. “Really, Twi? That’s such a cliche time traveler thing to say.” He let loose a groan before shutting his comic book, and stomping out of the room.
The room succumbed to uncomfortable silence and a nervous cough or two. What was that all about? Twilight would have to talk to him about that later, but if she were to guess it was only a spurt of childish attitude.
A few moments passed before Rainbow’s voice broke the silence, “So, what are we waiting for? Let’s go see General Firefly--”
“General Firefly? No, no, we’re going back to see Mrs. Hoofingquin and Mrs. Horseshappali.”
“I thought we were going to see dodo birds?”
“What about--”
Quarreling broke out in the throne room. Twilight stood aside inaudibly, observing her friends scuffle and squabble. A vein bulged across her forehead. Gritting her teeth and scanning her eyes across the room, she spotted an uneasy Applejack, silent like a night sky in the country, hiding under her hat, tilted at angle to where she could only peek at her friends.
Twilight thought, She’s silent? Applejack wasn’t the one to slip into the shadows when her friends were fighting; she’d do the exact opposite, diving into harm’s way to make sure nopony got hurt. Twilight didn’t think Applejack was that unnerved by all of it, but figured otherwise.
Suddenly, she got an idea. “Everypony!,” she yelled, grabbing the bickering bunch’s attention. “Thank you.” She smiled, trying to remain calm. She inhaled and exhaled to steady herself before continuing. “Why doesn’t Applejack decide?”
Applejack looked up to see Twilight beaming at her, inclining her to return a miniscule smile of her own. Unsure of what to say, she held her tongue for the time being.
In that time a flash of blue cut off Twilight’s line of sight to Applejack. “Applejack? Why does Applejack get to decide? She didn’t even want to go,” Rainbow said, annoyed.
Applejack was also curious; Rainbow was right, she didn’t particularly want to go in the first place. Now she was getting her way? If she didn’t know any better, she’d say she was getting a pity deal.
Twilight spoke, “You’re right. She didn’t want to go, which is why she gets to choose where to go. That way it’ll be easier on her.” Twilight looked past the pegasus to Applejack. “Does that sound alright?”
Applejack blushed, “Ah, shucks, Twilight, It ain’t that big of a deal. I don’t wanna rain on anyone’s parade or nothin’.”
“No, I insist. Don’t we, girls?” Twilight glanced over to her friends. Seeing willing nods and hearing mhms of agreement, she snapped her head back. Facing forward, her stern eyes met Rainbow’s.
Rainbow didn’t want to but Twilight’s stare of guilt was too much. “Fine,” she rolled her eyes and said, even though she’d have to postpone her date with General Firefly. Beside her erupted hoof-claps and cheers; finally, they were going to try out this new spell.
Twilight ran some calculations as the others waited impatiently. Their blood was pumping, and their bodies were shaking, anxious to get this show on the road.
As time passed, thunderous clouds rolled in like hundred-feet-tall tsunami tides, overwhelming the clear, blue skies. The clouds cried while the wind whisked and whistled a lullaby of sorrows.
Twilight’s and her friends’ faces drooped. They yawned, and slowly blinked their eyes, inattentive to their surroundings, with the exception of Twilight who was writing earnestly, jotting down note after note and testing equation after equation. Leave it to her to complicate things… they thought.
About forty-five minutes later, Twilight placed her quill next to her ink-soaked notepad before turning around. “Alright, that should--” She paused, scanning the room to see a snoring Rainbow Dash, Rarity filing her nails, Pinkie batting an inflatable ball with her hooves, Fluttershy nestled into the arm of her chair fast asleep, and Applejack dozed off with hat over her face. Twilight blushed; she couldn’t have taken that long, could she?
Rarity glanced up from maintaining her hooficure and asked, “What was that, darling? You must speak up when you talk.”
Twilight repeated herself, “I said that we should be ready to go now--that is...when everypony is awake.” She giggled with her blush fading away.
“I suppose we should wake them up, then,” Rarity said.
A pink hoof raised high and proud. “I know just how to do it too!” she said, smiling wide and bouncing up and down like the excited goofball she was. She sprung into the air, bicycle-kicking her ball across the room. She landed on the other side of her throne, invisible to Twilight and Rarity. A moment later she walked out with a pair of earmuffs with two more in hoof, which she gave to her awake friends. They exchanged weird glances before shrugging and covering their ears with them.
Pinkie, with her earmuffs on, and her smile broad, trotted onto the center of the golden dish, amidst the thrones. She stood still as a statue, leaving them to wonder. Then, in a instant, Pinkie Pie pulled a pair of cymbals two times her size out of her mane, and smashed them together as hard as she could. Deafening vibrations rang violently throughout the castle, shaking the whole structure.
Applejack, Fluttershy and Rainbow opened their eyes briskly, and covered their ears the best they could upon hearing the boisterous sound. They all cringed, crunching up into balls, and shaking uncontrollably, silently pleading for the noise to stop.
Ten seconds later, seemingly an eternity past, Applejack, Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy began uncoiling themselves from fetal position. At a gradual, steady rate, they uncurled themselves and rose onto their limp, shaky legs. They blinked several times, still trying to reaffix their vision, while they were temporarily unable to hear anything around them.
Removing their earmuffs, Twilight and Rarity ambled over to Pinkie’s side. Well, they were up, a bit shaken, but nonetheless, awake and alive.
Twilight looked to her left to see Pinkie still holding the cymbals as the others were coming closer to being regaining full consciousness. Twilight came up with a keen idea and used her telekinesis to move the cymbals out of sight, while saying, “Wow! That thunder sure is getting awful loud. Wouldn’t you say, Rarity?”
Rarity hesitated, giving Twilight an unknowing gaze. Twilight winked, and within an instant, some trigger went off in Rarity’s head. “Oh, why of course it was! Why, I don’t think I’ve ever heard thunder that makes such a ruckus,” she said, smiling back at Twilight, who nodded off her performance.
The three startled mares picked themselves up off the floor, shook their heads, and tried to firmly plant their hooves into the plush carpet.
Applejack nickered, flipping blonde, straw-like strands of hair out of her face so she could see clearly--clearly enough to see two pairs of eyes, one purple and one blue, staring at her innocently. She looked confused, but it didn’t take long for her look of confusion to turn into a look of suspicion. She cocked an eyebrow, and said, “My, that sure was some mighty strong thunder.” She ambled over to Rarity, scanning her while tapping her hoof to the carpet.
Thunder or not, it wasn’t worth worrying about; she had a more prevalent thought. “So…Twilight, ya got yer mathematics and what’s it figured out?” she asked, eager for an answer. Sure, she wasn’t all for the idea at first, but while she was asleep, she came up with a notion that piqued her interest.
Twilight was glad that no pony asked about the thunder. She was even more glad to know somepony reminded her of the spell. “Matter of fact, I did; it was just some ontology, so it was merely foal’s play, only if it didn’t take me so long to quintuple check,” she said, reflecting.
Applejack crinkled her forehead and scrunched her eyes. Puzzled, she added, “Right…So, are ya sayin’ we’re ready to get this show on the road?”
Twilight nodded. “I am. But before I start, I just need one thing.”
Rainbow appeared in Twilight’s field of view and asked, “What is it?” Rainbow was impatient; she couldn’t wait too much longer. The faster they’d visit the other timeline, dimension, universe thing that Applejack chose, then the faster she’d be able to fly alongside General Firefly.
Twilight smiled at Rainbow’s eagerness; her impatience didn’t bother her as much as it should have. After all, she was just as elated. She moved her eyes from Rainbow to Applejack and said, “I need to know where we’re going.”
Applejack stood calm as her friends circled around her, their eyes boring into hers, making her seem small. She gulped, a decision that was easier than bucking apples became about as difficult as making zap-apple jam. Inhaling and exhaling, she was temporarily tranquil once more, or at the very least, stable. She said, “Ah…if it ain’t much of a bother...would like to go…” She trailed off as the corner of her eyes thinned out and her eyelids blanketed her pupils, “Back to Sweet Apple Acres about fifteen years ago or somethin’--if ya can make that happen.” She swayed back and forth; her emotions were getting the better of her; the usually-composed orange mare was light in the cheeks, and unnerved beneath her skin.
Rainbow interjected, “The farm. You want to go to the farm? I could be a mile high in the sky and you want to go to the--”
“--Rainbow!” Rarity scolded, “Don’t be so crass, Why, sometimes you behave just like some surly ruffian.” Rainbow rolled her eyes, which resulted in Rarity shooting daggers at her friend. Rainbow huffed and casually backed away. Rarity broke the glare, and faced a deep-rose-faced Applejack. Poor thing. “Dear, what is it that you’re wanting to see at your farm? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”
Applejack sighed and swung her left forehoof into the ground like an upset filly kicking rocks. She picked her head up and opened her eyes. “It ain’t ‘bout what is there, but it’s ‘bout who is there,” she said, releasing another sigh and shutting her eyes tight.
The other five stood in silence, eyes affixed on their friend. They were dazed, attempting to figure out who Applejack could have been referring too. Fifteen years ago, Applejack would have been eight, a few years before her sister Applebloom was born. Why would she want to go back there--or then--whichever. The question lingered in everypony’s mind, but they were wary to ask, even Rainbow Dash, who learned to shut her muzzle every once in awhile.
Fluttershy, surprisingly, broke the silence, saying, “Who is the, um, well, who? Only if you want to say, of course…” She titled her head down to hide, as if she weren’t the one to impose--as if the question was never even asked.
Applejack’s ears withered and her eyelids got weighty. It took a lot to look at her friends. She had nothing against them or the question, but the subject was a delicate one. It hurt to talk about, much less think about, but she had to if she really wanted to fulfill her plans.
She opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. She winced, and breathed in deeply once again, then out. She knew it’d be arduous, but she didn’t think it’d be that painful. Oh Sweet Celestia, what do Ah say. Ah shouldn’t have bothered sayin’ nothin’. Shoot, Ah didn’t think it’d be so hard to stomach. Breathing in and out once more, she said, “Ah I wanna go back and see…” she gulped, “Mah maw and pop.” She had broken out into a cold sweat, her heart was running faster than a train, and her legs were made of jelly.
A sentimental silence draped the room. Her friends could only imagine how tough it must have been for her to choke that out. Twilight stepped forward and put her hoof on Applejack’s. “Well, then what are we waiting for?” Applejack looked up to see a grin across Twilight’s muzzle, and all of her nerves washed away like seashells in the tides.
“Thanks, Twi,” she said. Applejack couldn’t do anything else but grin back and stare into Twilight’s comforting gaze. Finally, she reached for her and wrapped her hooves around her neck to embrace her.
Pinkie started bouncing in her spot. What a perfect opportunity, she thought. She stomped her hooves rapidly before caving in and yelling, “Group hug!” She darted over to Twilight and AJ, arriving as quick as a bullet. She almost toppled over them, but somehow managed not to. Twilight and Applejack twitched in an awkward manner and repositioned themselves before nuzzling into the hug. Without hesitation, the others followed Pinkie Pie’s lead and joined in.
Twilight, in the middle of it all, had an immense smile on her face, thinking that although it had been a lengthy while since they had been this close, the wait was worth the secure, marvelous feeling she felt underneath her purple coat. It felt like she had gone back to their very first day together. What she’d do for that feeling again, but for now, she was content with what she had.
After a drawn-out hug, minimal discussion, and a sixth check over her notes, Twilight was ready to go. “Alright. What I’m going to do is access my magic and channel it into a beam. Once I shoot the beam at a non-reflective surface,” she motioned to the closed door that led into the kitchen, “it should make a portal, much like the one that allows me to see my friends in Canterlot High. The only difference is that we’re not going to be entering a different dimension, we’ll just be splicing ourselves into another, independent timeline, where in no way, shape or form will the events of the other timeline be consequential to our contemporary timeline. Make sense?”
Twilight’s friends blinked at her again. But before she could dumb it down, Rainbow spoke, “Uh, sure, Twilight. We totally get it.” She glanced over her shoulder to see the others nodding in agreement. “So…can we hurry it up already?” she asked.
Twilight nodded and used her telekinesis to grab the spell book. She narrowed her eyes, focusing in on her target: the kitchen door. “Stand back, everypony,” she commanded. A purple aura encircled her horn, expanding like energy waiting to burst. She appeared to be relaxed, but it was obvious that it wasn’t an elementary spell. Otherwise, she would have accomplished it by now. Nevertheless, she looked composed.
A medium-sized, spherical orb of light violet had formed around her horn. Gradually, it grew bigger and bigger until it was about as enormous as it was going to get: about double the size of Twilight’s head. Twilight, however, managed to showcase her poise. Finally, the orb got to where it had enough magic in it to fire. “Almost...got...it,” Twilight squeaked out, firing the concentrated beam.
Suddenly, the door flew open, and in its entryway stood none other than Spike, who had his nose buried in a comic book and was oblivious to the beam racing towards him.
As soon as the door flew open and Spike emerged, the impatient friends turned into terrified bystanders, rushing out in front of Twilight shouting at Spike in an incomprehensible uproar.
It was too late; the beam had already been fired.
Snapping his head up, Spike saw a blinding flash of violet light, and over all the ruckus he heard a shrill scream from Twilight, fear trembling in her voice. He heard, “Spi--”
Author's Note
Well, I finally started a FIMfic, hopefully people think better of it than I do, but we'll see.
Please leave feedback and criticism in the comments, just don't be rude or mean about it.
And a shout out to my two absolutely terrific editors, Icecreammac, who has a great story on his page about the alternate Twilight from, "The Friendship Games." So, go check him out.
And, The Crystal Maiden, who has an awesome changeling war fic, "The Black Hours."
I mean it, they are awesome! Couldn't do it without them so do me a favor and read their stuff. It's great!
Thanks for reading, hope you all enjoyed it and if you did, give it a like and follow me...Maybe? Hopefully? I'll have lots more stories for you guys to read, promise.
