Elixir

by SnapDrakeGames

Rating: everyone
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Spike, Comedy, Cutie Mark Crusaders, Trixie, Discord, Slice of Life, Main 6
Length: 4410

In which a silver-tongued telemarketer learns why an alicorn ascension in a bottle may not be the guaranteed-hit product he thought it was.

Alicorns, the regal regents of Equestria. How many ponies would pay an arm and... would pay two legs to be one? And what happens when they're given a choice? The results may not be what curio-merchant-turned-telemarketer Archive had in mind.

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Written for F*** THIS PROMPT #13

Published 2016-08-12 02:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-08-12 02:30:01 UTC

The Master Work

Applejack was bathing Oat Whale, the biggest pig in the pen, when she heard the sound of the phone ringing in her kitchen. "Applebloom," she called. "Would you get the phone? I'm a little busy here."

"Err- sorry sis, but I've got a Crusaders' meeting and I'm kinda late, gotta go, bye!" her sister replied as she dashed off into the orchard. Applejack failed to repress a groan.

"Fine then, I'll get it. Don't forget to leave your room a mess as well, alright?" the farmer muttered. Oat Whale tugged on the towel, trying to goad Applejack into a tug-o-war. "Hey, don't you start getting sassy with me. Your bath isn't over yet, buster." She trotted off towards the house, a little surprised that the caller hadn't just hung up yet.

"Hello, this is Sweet Apple Acres, best orchard in all of Equestria. Applejack here, how can I help you?"

"Hello Applejack. That's quite the strong tone you have. Would I be correct in guessing that you're the head of this establishment?"

The voice was smooth and curiously accented. Applejack was immediately suspicious. "Who's speaking?"

"Simply a fellow entrepreneur, a merchant like yourself, ma'am. I deal in rare artifacts, curios and antiques of mysterious backgrounds. What is it you most desire, my friend? Power? Respect? A long, full life?"

"Mostly, ponies who get to the point," the mare replied.

"Ah. I can understand that. Please, allow me to be concise. I've recently come into possession of a special potion, a rare and much sought-after concoction that grants its drinker immense might. This potion has been sealed away for over a thousand years, carefully preserved within an ancient tomb, deep within the most hostile jungle in Equestria, guarded by the fiercest, most brutal traps imaginable."

"Sir, didn't you say you were going to get to the point?"

"Ah- yes, of course. Simply put, that I was able to get my hooves on this potion at all was astounding. It's such an exceptional brew that its very existence has passed into legend, like an old, wondrous bedtime story. The path that leads to it is the same path that leads to other such legends, unrivaled, illusive."

"Such as the point you're supposed to be getting to?" Applejack allowed a touch of her annoyance to bleed into her tone, her suspicions for this dramatic salespony waning.

"Err- as I was saying. Any pony who drinks this potion will be able to achieve the ultimate power, the apex of pony existence: princesshood!"

Applejack was barely able to contain her laugh. The pony on the phone seemed very flustered. "Ma'am, this isn't some kind of joke. Whoever drinks this potion will be transformed into an alicorn! Imagine the benefits, respect, immortality, the raw power!"

"Uh huh. Sir, would you mind giving me your credentials?" Applejack remarked.

"Erm- credentials?"

"You know. Basically so you can confirm the last few sentences to come out of your mouth weren't utter bullspit?"

"Ma'am, I assure you, our products are 100% guaranteed legitimate and I'm frankly appalled that anypony could suggest otherwise."

"Yes, I'm sure that's what your boss told you to say."

"I'm the manager of my shop, ma'am, and I-"

"Listen, fella?" Applejack interrupted. "I think I can recognize a scam when I see one, and this one is crazy as a sprayed roach. I of all ponies would know that a Princess has to earn her title: you can't grow wings and a horn just by drinking some fancy magic cocktail."

"Ma'am, I assure you-"

"And you still haven't mentioned your credentials." Applejack gave the poor stallion a few moments of silence before she hung up. What a riot that was. Alicorn ascension in a can? Ridiculous.

And, Applejack thought to herself, even if the product was legitimate, she didn't need it. She'd tried the fancy life, and it wasn't for her. All she really needed was this orchard; the thought of not being able to look out at the apple trees, at her brother preparing for the harvest, at Oat Whale frolicking in his pen, filled her with despair.

...Hold on a sec. She rushed outside, galloping towards the pig pen. The sight that greeted her confirmed her fears. Oat Whale was back in his mud wallow, playfully romping through the filthy puddles.

Applejack sighed. His bath wouldn't be over for a long time.

Fluttershy carefully ran the brush through the cat's coarse fur, sorting out knots and tangles with a gentle touch. The feral cat had come scratching around her cottage, chasing after a few bluebirds, but though it was still on a hair trigger, it seemed to have calmed down for the most part, grudgingly accepting Fluttershy's pampering. The pegasus prepared for another dive into the cat's frazzled coat, doing her best to keep the animal soothed and compliant.

A shrill ring echoed through her living room. The cat leapt from her lap, scrambling across shelves and curtains before flying wildly from the room. Fluttershy gave a soft sigh before picking up the phone. "Hello, this is Fluttershy speaking. How can I help you?"

"Yes, Miss Fluttershy? Do you have a moment? I'd just like to ask you a few questions about your life right now. How you feel about your current state of living, what your goals are- simple things, really."

"Alright then," Fluttershy answered, wondering why the pony needed to know. "I live in a cottage at the edge of the woods, taking care of all the animals I can. It's a really cozy place and during the winter a whole bunch of them come inside where its warm and we all sit around a nice fire and enjoy ourselves. Oh, then, in spring, when the snow all melts the first flowers bloom right outside the front porch. Also, every now and then, Discord will come over for tea, and we'll talk about the weather and how the baby birds are doing, and if he could maybe choose a less high profile canvas for his self portrait than Canterlot Castle." She paused a moment, trying to remember what was considered rude in a conversation. "Pardon my asking, but are you conducting a survey or something?"

"Err- I was going to sell you something, but you seem to have a very enviable and highly satisfying lifestyle and I'm not quite sure how to approach this."

"Aren't you supposed to tell me I'm living my life wrong?"

"Would you believe me?"

"Umm- say I need a bigger house?"

"I don't sell houses."

"Well, I've always tried to be more outgoing-"

"Aha! Imagine, Miss Fluttershy, that the solution for all your anxiety lies with a simple phone call. Well, it does! One sip of my legendary miracle serum will transform you into an alicorn, poised and regal! Why, the power, the respect you'll command among your peers. You'll be the immortal standard to which all mares aspire, the very picture of grace and beauty, just imagine it!"

Fluttershy imagined it. Her imagination shrugged. "I don't see how that would change anything. It'd just be me but taller and with a horn."

"Oh, it'll be far from that, Miss. You'll be admired, the envy of all!"

"Tried that once. Didn't work." She shivered a little at the memory of those crowds.

"Well, you'll be respected, saluted, a princess! Your word will be law!"

"Tried that too. Also didn't work." On the plus side, the mailpony always made sure her mail ended up in the right box. On the downside, he shook like a politician’s morality while he did it.

A shrill yowl rang through the cottage. Fluttershy winced. "Uh, Mr..."

"Archive. My name is Archive, Miss, and it's a pleasure to-"

"Sorry, but I really have to go. But you should come over for tea sometime! I'll show you the bunny fiefdom Angel set up." She quickly hung up the phone, before racing outside. "Mr. Kitty, I told you already, the bluebirds are not marshmallow puffs!"

Rarity's studio was the very picture of an artist's den; which is to say, fabric samples were strewn among dozens of empty coffee cups as she carefully laid the finishing touches to her latest design.

"Ah! Yes! It's complete! Perfect!" she crooned, sewing the final gem into the collar. She took a step back to admire the piece as a whole. "Yes, it's beautiful! I shall call it... Half a Week, after how long it took me to finish." Rarity paused a moment to listen to what she was saying. "Yikes. Sweetie Belle was right, I do need at least eight hours every night." As she took a brush to her mane with her telekinesis, she went about tidying the rest of the room up.

A piercing ring shot through the studio. Surprised, she slipped, her fabric and dyes toppling to the floor. She gave a dramatic wail of grief. The silk was covered in puce and the saffron was getting all over the imported synthetics.

With another overdrawn sigh, she answered the phone. "This is Carousel Boutique, Rarity speaking. How may I help you?"

"Ah. Rarity, yes?" asked the pony on the phone, his voice smooth, his suave tone accentuating his accent. "My name is Archive, and I was calling to ask if you wouldn't mind doing a little favor."

"A favor?" Rarity asked with an indulgent timbre. "Well, I do try to be a generous pony."

"That's quite noble of you, Madame. Why, I'm positive you're quite celebrated for your generosity, or you deserve to be at least."

"Mmm. Aren't you quite the flattering stallion," she cooed. "Your manipulation, though, could use work."

"Err- manipulation? That's a rather, uh, harsh word, don't you think?"

"Darling," Rarity simpered, "every time you open your mouth it's like you're wiping a window pane. You're only making yourself more transparent."

"Darn it. I had a plan too. Was going to butter you up with talk about how you should be receiving endless praise for your magnanimity-"

"Yes, I'm sure you were going to do a wonderful job of it-"

"And then once I'd made it clear that you weren't being praised nearly enough I was going to sell you this magic potion that'll transform you into an alicorn, so you could be a praised princess for the rest of time."

Rarity stopped. "Hold on just a moment. Are you saying that you're marketing a magic potion that turns ponies into alicorns over the phone?"

"Well, I tried placing an ad in the paper, but apparently nopony trusts the ads in celebrity gossip magazines."

"Is this how other ponies do business? For Celestia's sake, it's no wonder I'm so successful if this is my competition."

"Ouch. Hit a little close to home there."

"What home? You live in your parents' basement."

"Hey, you don't know that."

"I do now."

"Hah! No you don't. As a matter of fact, I live above my shop and intentionally phrased that first response to make you think I lived in my parents' basement. Who's transparent now, Miss business queen?"

"..."

"...so, would you like to pay by credit card, or-"

Rarity hung up. Regardless of her personal feelings about the salespony and his fathomless incompetency, she had to admit that she felt a little more awake now that she'd been able to yell at somepony for awhile. Most of that energy drained away as soon as she caught sight of her floor, and the dripping pile of fabric scraps still needing to be picked up.

"Hmm," she murmured, inspecting the cloth more closely. The assortment of colors was odd, but if she got rid of the goldenrod, added some cooler tones to balance the thing out, maybe included a sash or a nice scarf, let the sleeves droop just a little bit, "Yes, that could put emphasis on the jacket but I'll lose the hood, replace it with a comfortable hat, hem up the skirt another few centimeters, ooh, I should go see if I have any shoes designed that would go with that camisole." She took a glance at the clock. "Eh. I'll get seven hours of sleep. Close enough."

It would be, Pinkie Pie thought to herself as she stood on the ladder, perched over the towering castle, a crowning achievement. The world's greatest house of cards, the most precarious and perilous arrangement of playing cards ever to be constructed. It'd certainly be the only one where the cards were also cookies. It had taken a long time for Pinkie to bake all these cookie cards, especially since she kept confusing whether they were cookies or cards and accidentally eating them, but at last her work was almost done. With care like a practiced neurosurgeon, she inched the final card closer to its position, concentrating intensely. She hoped very much that some sudden interruption wouldn't disturb her focus and cause her to do some tired comedic cliche like fall over and ruin several hours of fruitful work.

A sudden chime rang out through the kitchen, shattering the peaceful silence that had persisted before. "Aha!" Pinkie cried, snatching up the phone and screaming into the receiver. "I knew something like this would happen! I'm just trying to finish a long, tedious project that requires care and precision when all of a sudden the phone rings and I'm startled into knocking it over, right? Hah, wrong! I brought the phone up right next to me on the ladder and have been mentally composing myself the stay absolutely still and just grab the phone as soon as it rang! Hah!"

"...Miss, would you like to buy a magic potion?" the phone answered, shakily.

"Ooh, a rare artifact from an ancient tomb in a hostile jungle? What does it do?"

"It transforms ponies into alicorns," the phone replied, a bit more confidently. Pinkie was happy for the phone. It needed to get out more, work on its self-esteem, maybe meet a nice partner somewhere and settle down into a more comfortable lifestyle.

"Oh, that sounds so great! I'd have a horn and wings and I'd be able to fly like my friend Rainbow Dash, except I guess I kind of already have that hot air balloon, but it'd be faster!"

"Yes, yes Miss. You'll be able to perform stupendous feats, with both physical prowess and magical abilities of which normal ponies can only dream. You'll be incredible, a powerful princess just like the Royal Sisters themselves!"

"Hmm... you know, on second thought, I think I'm going to pass."

"Wait, what? Why?"

"Alright, Archive, so imagine an earth pony wears a big yellow duck costume and walks past you on the street with a bunch of ducklings and one cygnet following them. What's your reaction?"

"Uh, weirded out? How do you know my name?"

"And then what's your reaction when an alicorn wears a big yellow duck costume and walks past you on the street with a bunch of ducklings and one cygnet following them?"

"Uh... slightly less weirded out?"

"Exactly! Nopony's as surprised when an alicorn does it because alicorns are crazy. Why would I become an alicorn when the expressions are at least half the fun?"

"That's it?"

"Oh. And, you know, immortality is a curse and I'd have to see all my friends die and all that stuff." Nothing else was going to come of that conversation, so Pinkie hung up. All the talk about duck suits and cygnets made her want to try that one out and see exactly what kind of faces she got. She bolted for the door, trying to remember where she'd left that coupon for the Costume Parlor.

"You know, I can't help but think that I'm forgetting something," she said to herself as she shut the door behind her. The sound of hundreds of cookie cards crashing onto the table was a good reminder.

All the sky was center stage for Rainbow Dash as she shot through the lower stratosphere, prismatic light reflecting off the clouds as she soared above Ponyville. Completing the last twist of her routine, she tucked in her wings and spiraled into her dive, dropping altitude like a meteor. At the speeds this dive reached, she'd had to wear goggles so that she could be sure to pull out at the right instant, before she bombed into the ground and likely annihilated everything in the surrounding area. Her eyes narrowed as she waited for the optimal moment. Almost... almost...

Her focus broke when a fierce ring spiked through her eardrums. She spread her wings in panic, but pulled out too late. Her hooves clipped the ground and then she was rolling, tumbling like a loose tire through the town's roads. She skidded to a stop at the base of a phone booth; the receiver fell out and dangled near her aching head.

"Hello?"

"Hi," Rainbow muttered as she stood up, brushing herself off with one hoof and rubbing her head with the other. "Who am I talking to?"

"Miss, my name is Archive," the pony on the phone answered, "and I was wondering if you'd be interested in a wonderful new potion that I have for sale."

"Uh huh," the pegasus absently replied, dusting off her sore wings.

"Yes. This is a very special potion, a miraculous brew like none you've ever seen before!"

"What, will it change my life? Give me knowledge the likes of which I never could've dreamed?" Rainbow quipped.

"Oh, all that and more. This potion will transform you into an alicorn!"

Rainbow barely had to think about it. "Pass."

"What? You're not even going to consider it first? Think of the possibilities. Limitless life, incomprehensible power!"

"Maybe, but what'd be the point of all that?" Rainbow asked. "I'm an athlete, a competitive flyer. Now, how many Wonderbolts do you know who're alicorns?"

"Miss, I'm sure Princess Celestia and Princess Luna are excellent fliers, and-"

"Sure, but none of them are professional flyers. They don't go out for joy flights or compete in races or competitions because they're too busy running Equestria. Even if they did have the time, they wouldn't be allowed to fly with regular pegasi. They wouldn't set records or go down in history as heroes or inspire young pegasi to try their very best. Alicorns are unfair, and when I prove that I'm the fastest flier in all of Equestria, I'm gonna do it fair and square!"

Rainbow put a hoof over her chest, emotion swelling within her. "What kind of pony do you think I am that I'd take some serum in a can that's supposed to make me go faster? What kind of pony would do that, no matter what the consequences, just so they can triumph over somepony who's worked harder and who tries their best? What kind of pony would be so unfair, and what kind of hometown would they represent? Athletics are awesome, not just for the winner, but for the competitors, the audience, the trainers, the fans, and by Celestia's stockings, I'd hate to be the pony who tries to make them any less awesome for the rest of us."

"...I'm never going to sell this stupid potion, am I?"

"So, do we have a deal?"

"Of course we do," Scootaloo cried into the phone, her excitement bubbling over her attempt at a calm exterior. "One Alicorn Ascension in a Jar. It sounds so awesome!"

"What do you think we'll be Princesses of?" Applebloom asked. "I can't think of a word to sum up 'talent-finders.'"

"Uh... Princesses of Self-Discovery?" Sweetie Belle offered. "No, wait, that sounds like one of my parents' self-help books."

"Wait a minute, how many bits did you say it would cost?" Scootaloo questioned. The salespony repeated the figure. "Hey, Sweetie Belle, how many zeroes is that?" The foal in question was unable to answer, as the thought of that much money seemed to have temporarily stalled her cognitive functions. "Yeah," Scootaloo began, "that may be a bit outside of our budget, but I'm sure we can- hey! He hung up on me!"

The phone rang. Princess Celestia glanced at the number and didn't recognize it, so she dropped the call. She spent the next few moments intensely wondering why Caller ID hadn't caught on with the rest of her subjects yet, because it was remarkably convenient.

"Yeah, that sounds good. Twilight let me borrow her credit card. Hey, do you know if it works on dragons? Oh... well, it might work, right? Only one way to find out."

"Spike, who are you talking to?" Twilight asked as she entered the room, eyeing the little dragon and the phone with a wary eye.

"Oh, Twilight!" Spike cried, dropping the receiver on the table. He gulped, before stammering out, "Well, you see, I was just trying to get in touch with, uh, this other guy my friend recommended who, uh..."

"Spike, just give me the phone," Twilight grumbled. The little dragon hesitated for just a second before he obliged, and then scrambled off to go back to his chores or something. Twilight hoped it was the chores.

"Princess Twilight Sparkle, Former Element of Magic, Royal Alicorn of Friendship," Twilight answered, doing her best to sound as poised as possible.

"Princess? Princess Twilight Sparkle? Oh, uh... would you be interested in buying a potion that gifts its drinker with the powerful, immortal body of an alicorn?"

"...This isn't some weird joke that I'm not getting, right? I'm already an alicorn. Why would I buy a potion to turn me into an alicorn?"

"Um... it'd make you... double immortal?"

"You know, in most parts of Equestria, lying to the government is a federal crime."

"It'd- oh! You wouldn't use the potion. You'd give it to someone else, thus bequeathing to them the gift of immortality so that you may live out your eternal lives together and never have to go through the pain of becoming close friends only for one of you to grow old and die, leaving the other mourning for eternity."

"Oh lord, this again?" Twilight moaned. "Alright, Mr. Salespony, let me give you a crash course in immortality. It isn't a curse. Do you think Princess Celestia would still be sane after thousands of years of life if immortality was such an emotional sledgehammer? In many ways, it's a blessing in and of itself. Immortality offers perspective. When you're immortal, when every birthday is a year more of life rather than a year closer to death, you're privy to facts of existence that even the wisest philosophers can only barely comprehend. Most ponies imagine a legacy as some grand aspiration, like leaving a message for ponies whose world you'll never understand, but we immortals know a legacy for what it really is. A legacy is just a memory, an influence, as simple as a path somepony clears that another pony paves and thousands more walk down every day. Legacies aren't flashy and overt: they shape history in subtle, almost imperceptible ways that only a pony who's seen how history really works can understand. Why do you think Princess Celestia is so wise? And as for that idea that immortals are lonely and reclusive, what kind of whining, emotionally unstable adolescents do you think we are? So our friends are going to grow old and die- guess what? That would be true even if we weren't alicorns. So we outlive all our friends, you know what? There's a healthy, completely natural way to deal with loss and it doesn't end up with you retreating from society and swearing off friendship entirely because you can't stand it if your feelings are a little hurt."

Twilight finished her rant, and found herself panting a little, out of breath. The pony on the other end of the phone was silent. "So... you have a potion that turns ponies into alicorns... and you're marketing it over the phone? You know you're terrible at business, right?"

"I've been told before. And like I told that other one, I tried putting an ad in the paper, but nopony trusts celebrity-"

"Because I was just wondering," the Princess interjected, "whether you'd acquired this potion by entirely legal means."

"Uh... no comment."

"Figured as much." Twilight hung up. "Well, I guess I know what I'm doing this weekend."

Archive swore to himself as he slammed down the phone, wondering yet again why he ever thought this would be a good idea. The accursed potion sat on the countertop in front of him; the swirling liquid lighting up with exoctic colors, odd lumps and bubbles drifting about within the jar, unbound by typical laws of convection. The merchant adjusted his glasses as he once again bemoaned the day he'd ever thought that this potion was a worthwhile investment, before turning back to his address book and searching for another pony to call. Thunderlane... Tree Hugger... Trenderhoof... Wait. That one. Yes, he recognized that name, and, he thought, a grin spreading across his fatigued muzzle, he knew exactly the kind of bait she'd take.

The phone rang a few times before his prospective customer picked up. "Yes, you've reached the Great and Powerful Trixie. How may she help you?"

"Hello, miss," Archive trilled, measuring his words like a royal chef. "I've recently come across a rather unusual item that I think you may take interest in."

"Have we met before? Trixie swears she recognizes your voice."

"I'm but a humble merchant, Miss Trixie, but what I have to offer is something very special. A powerful potion that, when drunk, will gift its user with power beyond their wildest imagination, an unimaginable level of strength and magical capability."

"I- who is this? Trixie is a changed mare. She won't be so easily lured by promises of fleeting power or petty revenge."

"Oh? I assure you, Miss, my items are the real deal," he responded, zeroing in on her comments about petty revenge. "This particular antique, well, it's quite a whopper. The perfect thing to grant your wildest dreams... and, perhaps, get a leg up on a bitter rival."

It was quiet on the customer's end for a long while, before she finally spoke up. "What exactly does this wondrous elixir do?"

"Drink it, and you'll become an alicorn, ascending to the ranks of power only a few beings in the world can match."

"...Trixie is listening."

"Good. Let's talk price..."