Why Must The Good Die Young?!
All is quiet. Not a creature stirs in the colossal structure of conjoined crystals that has become the most recent addition to Ponyville’s locale. Unlike the warm, cozy atmosphere of the now decimated Golden Oak Library, this new cathedral radiated regality in equal parts to its sheer intimidating stature, rising high above the thatched roofs of the near rural town below.
It is in this castle, down its gleaming halls, nestled on a simple throw pillow amidst glittering shelves filled to the brim with tomes of various knowledge that a small, purple alicorn resides, enjoying a good book on thaumaturgical string theory, intent on mastering the art of spell weaving itself. As its name would suggest, the practice requires a great deal of patience and even more focus in order to avoid turning a simple teleportation spell into a disintegrator beam. It should come as no surprise that when a certain pink-maned mare suddenly crashes through the bookcase immediately to her right, Twilight Sparkle is hardly to blame for losing her resolve and accidentally summoning a torrent of water into the room, flooding the lowest shelves with liquid, not to mention the mares themselves.
“Pptuh, pthuh… Pinkie Pie! Are you alright?” Twilight calls out, not having to wait longer than a moment or two before said bundle of fluff comes floating into view, somehow sporting a pony sized rubber ducky.
“Weeee!” She exclaims, giggling merrily as she bumps into the wall opposite of Twilight, making her fall backwards into the small lake with a comical backflip. Not a second later she bursts to her feet, her signature smiles-for-miles grin plastered across her face.
“Oh, thank Celestia…” Twilight says, glad to see her friend unharmed by her erratic spell. In the same moment, she stands ramrod straight. “Wai- Pinkie! Why did you jump out at me like that?!” She demands, then immediately undergoes yet another drastic change, suddenly panicking. “Oh no, the books!” With a burst of violet aura, all the water in the room instantly turns into steam, wafting up towards the ceiling and leaving the room just a bit hotter than before.
“I don’t know what this is about, Pinkie, but you could have ruined thousands of years of history just now.” She says, her edge faded mostly, replaced by a more worried one.
“I’m sorry, your door was locked, I had to use the window!” She says cheerily.
Glancing behind her friend, Twilight does note a very Pinkie-shaped hole in the stained glass window above the aisle beside where she was reading only minutes prior. “How did you do that without getting… hurt…” She simply sighs, shaking her head. “No, it doesn’t matter. Why did you feel the need to in the first place?”
Pinkie opens her mouth to reply, then shuts it again, suddenly looking uncharacteristically nervous. “W-Well, uh, you see, it’s a reeeeeally funny story, and Mrs. Cake was there, and Roseluck, and then they weren’t, annnnnnnd... “ She seems to drag that word out for almost half a minute before backpedalling, making an almost tape recorder sound of the same type. “T-Twilight, uh… I think I’m a murderer.”
For yet the second time that morning, Twilight found herself once again questioning whether or not Pinkie was ever normal in the first place. “You… think you’re a murderer?” She repeats, licking her suddenly dry lips. “Why do, um… Why do you think that?”
As if popping a balloon (sound and all), her mane deflates in an instant, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. “B-Because they left me a-a-alone with P-Petunia a-and… and I was supposed to w-watch her, b-but I t-tripped, and she fell and thensheburstandwaseverywhereandIcouldntputherbacktogetherandnowIkilledherandI’mabadponythateveryponywillneverevereverspeaktoagain!” She said, slowly devolving from sobbing to an almost unintelligible string of words barely spaced apart from each other.
Twilight looks at her friend with a gaping maw, unable to believe what she just heard. P-Petunia… t-that’s Roseluck’s daughter, isn’t it? Oh no… She fights back tears of her own at the thought of a mother losing her foal, instantly reliving a few memories from her own fillyhood when she raised her own dragon foal. Shaking herself free of these thoughts, she forces herself to focus on Pinkie. “L-Listen…. What happen to…” She paused to take an audible gulp. “... To Petunia’s… remains?”
Pinkie was on her in a second, burying her muzzle in Twilight’s chest fur, holding her in a vice-like hug. “S-S-She is- is still in the- the greenhouse! S-She was…. Everywhere.” She barely whispers the last word, staring Twilight in the eyes, pupils the size of tacks.
Twilight has to resist the urge to back away from Pinkie’s touch. She’s one of my best friends! I can’t just abandon her when she needs me, even if… even if she really did what she said! Deciding with a resolute nod of her head, Twilight places either of her forehooves on her friend’s shoulders, causing the ball of nerves to stop, as if frozen.
“Pinkie. I am your friend. I will help you get through this… this tragedy, but I will make sure of it that you do! Make it through, I, uh… mean.” She finishes almost lamely, silently cursing herself for blundering through a speech PInkie Pie desperately needed to hear.
While she was berating herself, the Earth Pony had done a complete one-eighty, her color and vibrancy returning with a loud pouf of her mane and tail. “OOooooh, thankyouthankyouthankyou!” She exclaims, collecting the young princess in yet another crushing hug, this one even lifting her off the ground for a moment before dropping her.
“You’re… wel...come…” She says a tad meakly, still recovering from the sudden assault on her lungs… and ribs… and organs… owwww….
After a particularly somber walk through the streets of Ponyville - contrasted with Pinkie’s own natural exuberance, hopping around Twilight like an excited pup - the two friends arrive at the back entrance into Roseluck’s personal greenhouse. From the outside it looked like a nigh fully glass semblance of a bunker, vines and leaves poking through various holes in the outer structure. It was reminiscent of a recent attack of sentient vines in Ponyville, the same attack that almost ended and now it’s time to stop thinking of bad thoughts like how they were about to seeadeadfoalohstarsIcan’t-
Twilight mentally slaps herself. No! Stay strong, for Pinkie! Looking over to her friend, she notices her staring at the door in another fit of statuesque precision, the only sign of life being her trembling lips and slight color variation, despite how impossible that should be.
“T-Twilight, I-I… I don’t know if I can… can…” She looks away, letting out a single, dry sob. “D-Do I have to come inside?...”
“...No, you can stay here. Just… think happy thoughts, please?” Twilight says, trying to comfort the pink pony as much as she was giving herself the same advice. Once she gets a nod from her, Twilight turns around and, before she can hesitate any further, pushes her way inside the steamy building.
Upon entering, Twilight is met with a startling array of flowers in many different sizes and shapes, some barely resembling their sibling fauna. Orchids of brilliant purple bloom in huge swathes along the ceiling, hanging in small pots dangling from the roof. Sunflowers glow brightly in planters surrounding another display, the center’s irises forming a contrast of cool blue to the bright yellow of their protectors. There was dirt littering the floor in almost every visible place, some bits of broken pots and a small lump of dirt with a pink flower trapped underneath. Watering cans sat by each of the clumps of vegetation, ready to be used when necessary. The little space that was not covered by flowers was occupied by thick tendrils of vines, their jungle-like visage a stark contrast from the soft and vibrant colors of the smaller plants.
The sight was breathtaking, to say the least. So much so that Twilight almost forgot… to…
“Where’s Petunia?”
She looks around in every nook and cranny, even gently moving aside vines to make sure she wasn’t missing something. The entire place looked devoid of any signs of life outside of the plants native there.
This… doesn’t make sense! Pinkie was in such a panic when she found me! There has to be something I’m missing…
Deciding to retrace herself a bit, she begins to inspect the different plants - avoiding a particularly eerie one that looked almost like a set of jaws ready to pounce, reminiscent of something she had seen in Fluttershy’s home before. She scrunches up her muzzle, magic rapidly taking notes on all the plants there, listing them by catagory based on size, shape, look, touch, smell… It went on for almost ten minutes before she threw her notepad on the ground, almost growling.
“I don’t get it! Where is Petunia?! Pinkie has said she was everywhere in he-” Mid-sentence, Twilight’s mind hit the emergency break, skidded to a halt, and nearly flipped over. She looks back to where she tossed her notepad, the small pink petals of the fallen plant just below it. Lifting the plant up to her face, she begins to collect all of the broken pot pieces and the dirt to go along with it.
It takes some searching, and many arduous minutes, but she eventually finds everything she had hoped for; The pieces all fit together in one shape, the dirt filled it up right to the rim, and among the dirt was a single piece of cardboard, a picture of the flower printed onto it with the word, “Petunia”.
Relief could barely describe what Twilight was feeling. Oh, Pinkie… it would be like her to panic over breaking somepony’s flower pot. Now feeling considerably lighter about the situation than only a few minutes prior, she turns to make her way out front when she finally notices that Pinkie Pie is crying loudly just outside. She doesn’t waste a second, teleporting out to support her despairing friend when she catches sight of who she was with.
The blue, plump mare she was latching onto was Mrs. Cake, the mare whom Pinkie worked for at Sugar Cube Corner. Pinkie was muttering “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over into the elder mare, who was doing her best to try and calm her. Beside her stood a yellow mare baring a significantly confused and partly worried expression, her mane doing her namesake proud. Upon seeing Twilight emerge from her greenhouse, she immediately walked over.
“Twilight? What are you doing here? Do you know why Pinkie is so upset?”
Twilight looks at Pinkie Pie, bawling relentlessly despite every attempt Mrs. Cake made to calm her. She looks back at the greenhouse, site of the most tragic death of a potted plant in Ponyville’s history. Her gaze returns to the inquiring mare, staying on her as she takes a deep breath.
“I… can explain. I think…”
