It sat neatly in her hooves, its pale green petals whistling faintly in the wind. A tiny little thing, a frail reminder of the past. Memories of bygone days and brash young dreams. Of what had once been.
The sapling was young, come recently from the boughs of Twilight’s Sparkle’s home.
Well, when it hadn’t been burned to a crisp, at least.
Its leaves, juvenile as they were, had begun to wilt, their green color fading away with every second that passed. The brown dirt, lively and lush, was sifting through Twilight’s hooves, a memory of time as it fell through that proverbial glass.
What did it all represent? What did it all mean?
Had it all been as weak and young as the pallid little sapling, sat dying in her hooves? Or was it the offspring of time, of hope and memories?
Memories, those prismatic jewels, rushed through Twilight Sparkle’s mind, colors and tints blurring in and out. The sapling was where it had all started, though it bore the memories of its parent. The firm, dark wood of her comforting oak, the library she called her own, in day and night. Twilight had begun life here, in truth. At least, that was what she had thought – did her youth in Canterlot really matter, when she remembered naught but Ponyville? Friendship had begun here, where her hooves now stood.
Twilight remembered her time in the familial oak, bygone years of joy and delight. Stargazing with Spike, her first of friends, perhaps. Those o’er-nights spent with friends, so charmingly named 'sleepovers.'
She thought of days spent at the table, the flavor of Pinkie Pie’s treats spreading through her mouth. Or those countless hours spent flying through the books upon the walls, as Rainbow Dash floated above, a countenance of boredom etched across that dear face.
Twilight giggled under her breath, remembering the pain that Owlowiscious had initially caused Spike, and the adoration that Fluttershy had poured upon the pets.
Those very same friends, dearest of them all, now stood some paces behind her, caught up in their own conversations as Twilight knelt on the cold, early spring grass.
Much had changed since those earliest of days. Seemingly gone were those innocent adventures of yore, taken by the map, and those grim of sores. Of course, some days were spent in harmless gallantry, yet Twilight felt that with every passing day came more villains, more troubles, and more harm to the precious places that she called home.
Her wings were another change, drastic and dramatic. Some days, in secret, Twilight longed for the times she was just another pony, another unicorn, set upon the streets of Ponyville like any other citizen. Yet, now she was a princess, some sort of pony meant to be higher, in a sense, than the rest.
It hurt her heart, in all truth and honesty. She was a pony, just like any other, with thoughts, and feelings, and memories.
Now, she couldn’t introduce herself to anypony without at least one bowing down to her.
Sometimes, she latched onto those old days, when things were simple – not a dramatic mess of troubles and world-ending possibilities. Yet, her friends…
Twilight was glad her friends, those five the closest of all, would always see her in the same light. Studious Twilight, overbearing Twilight, 'egghead' Twilight, as Dash would call her…
They were, and always had been, the light for her. The path that showed Twilight where to go, and how to get there. She loved them above all, and Twilight knew that, in the end, they would go forwards together. Whatever memories they had made in the past, however innocuous, would always be in her mind.
And whatever future they were in for, well…
There were simply new memories to create in that future. New loves, new feelings, new hopes, and new beginnings.
That was what the sapling represented, wasn’t it? As Twilight looked behind her, landing her gaze upon those five mares that had been her world for the past few years, she understood the meaning behind the sapling she now held in her hooves. The gift that her old home, the Golden Oaks Library, had given her.
The sapling was their memories, of fun times and happy days. It was their innocence, their nostalgia – those warm feelings that Twilight would always feel, reminiscing on the days when the world was small and comfortable.
Yet, it was also a new beginning – the earliest of dawns, when the future was before them, its arms wide and beckoning. New memories would be made, cast in the molds of time and emotion, and set beside the old, warm ones.
Hoofsteps behind her finally brought Twilight out of her thoughts, and raising her head she saw her five friends, smiles and grins stretched across their mouths as they looked down upon her.
Applejack, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, and Rarity. Her closest of friends, and those that would walk with her to the end of time. Twilight knew they had no idea was she was thinking about, but she would have it no other way – yet, she knew questions were brought upon the tips of their tongues.
“Twilight,” Applejack greeted, the twang upon her voice as warm as the cider her family made. “What’re you up to, sugarcube? You look a mite strange, sittin’ in that there dirt like so.”
Rarity shuffled her hooves, an expression of slight concern marring her smile. “Agreed – it’s not like a lady to sit in the dirt.”
“Oh, nothing,” Twilight Sparkle tittered, rolling her eyes. “I just found this sapling here – thought it looked interesting.”
Above them all, Rainbow Dash scoffed. “Tch. What’s so interesting about a sapling, anyway? Come on, let’s hurry up - I’ve got a new trick I wanna show you girls.”
Twilight giggled, always amused by Dash’s antics. “Oh, it’s not just any sapling,” she said, smiling wide. Almost immediately, a pink-furred pony plopped down beside her, both eyes focused upon the sapling in Twilight’s hooves.
“Oh! Oh!” Pinkie Pie cried out, the excitement in her shrill shouts as comical as ever – if, of course, a bit annoying, at times. “What is it? What is it?”
The mares all gathered close to Twilight, all curious to know what she was on about. Great interest was abound within their eyes, anticipation at what secrets the sapling might have held.
“Well,” Twilight began, holding up the weak sapling. “This little thing is pretty close to me – it came from my house, you know, and I’d like to plant it.”
Applejack leaned back in slight shock, raising a brow. “No, really? From the Golden Oaks Library?” Twilight nodded. “Well landsakes, we should plant it then! For old times!”
Fluttershy, the quietest of them all, nodded in agreement, placing her hooves under Twilight’s. “Then we’ll plant it together.”
The girls all nodded, holding their hooves together. As one, they lowered the sapling into the ground, planting the young tree where its parent once sat.
“To old memories and new, and to the past and the future,” Twilight thought to herself. Her heart felt warm, and her mind felt at ease.
To what had once been, and to what will soon be.
Author's Note
Thanks for reading. This has been an idea stuck in my head for a quite awhile now, and I've finally gotten it down to paper. Well, so to speak.
Look out for another chapter sometime. This is a two-chapter story, though it can be considered completed at one chapter. The other will be... the other side of the coin, if you will.
It'll bring some closure.
The sapling had grown.
Large, strong, powerful, and yet, the sapling was now a memory, like the rest. A reminder of bygone days and hapless eves. Its leaves were once hope, dying in the autumnal wind as green became red, and blood dried brown.
Where had the days gone? Where had the years gone, seemingly vanished in the air of summer’s breath? Twilight had planted the sapling in spring, only to find it a dying tree on a winter’s eve.
Yet, was death so bad, when it was simply an inevitability? Something strong, something forceful, something that no pony could ever resist?
Well, of course those luckless few, strained by the binds of time, could resist it, in some manner. Yet, death, time – it affected them still. Pain, loss – it was no stranger to the likes of them. Horns, wings, it was all simply a bastion against time itself. A blessing, and a curse.
Princess Twilight Sparkle looked around the old town, the gathered ponies watching like fireflies in the night. Familiar old houses, the same cobbled streets – it was all simply a reminder. Of the past, and of the morrow. Red houses now blue, and fresh brick now cracked. Time forgot no thing, no pony.
On the way to the tree, Twilight had taken notice of several marks. The old sugary bakery, for one, had lost its life, no longer a vibrant theme of confectionary sweets. It was dull, plain – just another house on the street, taken by yet another family that, in all honesty, Twilight knew nothing of.
The farm, Sweet Apple Acres, was still as pleasant as ever, yet Twilight had seen more ponies there than she ever had in the past. Workers, apples, old mares and all. Yet, the princess had not seen a familiar face amongst them – not a hat to be seen, and not a blonde mane to be had.
The skies had been clear that day, yet Twilight swore that most days she had been in Ponyville, one could have seen a single bit of fluff, the markings of a small castle apparent upon it. No cloud was to be seen, and no rainbow to be had. The last rain had been several weeks ago.
That was as far as Twilight had borne the nerve to see – she had not the bravery in herself to tour the rest of Ponyville. Time would belay her, as it had belayed all the others. In essence, she was afraid. To see, in truth, how her home had changed, day by day. Month, by month. Year, by year.
But, in the end, to see her little sapling, grown and matured like them all, and now dying, was to have seen the inevitable, and known it. Was it all a sham, really? Those years ago, when Twilight had declared to herself the meaning of the sapling – were they fake, false, nothing but old markings upon bark?
Indeed, Twilight had hoped for the sapling to be a happy signal for the future, but it had become a painful memory of the past. Of lost friends, and dearly departed adventures.
She could have questioned where it had all went, and where her memories had run off to, yet Twilight knew the truth. They were gone. Swallowed by time, as the sapling had swallowed the precious land’s nourishment.
A cough, a cleared throat, grasped the princess out of her memories, and she looked down to see a young mare. She was not yet accustomed to looking down upon her fellow ponies.
“So, um… princess!” The mare declared, her voice that of a nervous official. “Princess Sparkle! Has the town been to your liking?”
Twilight knew this mare, knew her so well – and yet, she did not. That same brown coat, that same dyed mane. All upon the same pony, yet different under the flesh altogether. She was not Mayor Mare, and yet she was.
“Yes,” the princess said simply, her eyes hiding sorrow. Her voice sounded so different, than that of the little unicorn she had once been. Deeper, greater…
Since when had she sounded so musical, so motherly?
“Yes,” Twilight began again, turning to face the mayor. “I remember it so well.”
A lie, in truth. She remembered it well, but she did not know this town.
“Excellent!” the mayor declared, anxious excitement toning her voice. “Well, if you’d like to tour the rest of Ponyville, then just let me know!” By Celestia, she sounded so much like Maybelle Mare, yet…
Twilight shook her head. “No. I am fine. I had best be off to Canterlot soon. The other princesses will need me for—”
Her voice caught short, her eyes glistening. The mayor tweaked her head, wondering why the Princess of Friendship had ceased her talk. Following the princess’ gaze, she found them on three ponies, so familiar, and yet so different. “What?”
A cool-headed filly, her wings kept clean. Her coat was a bright cobalt, her mane iridescent. A mare stood behind her, a pearly white hoof upon her daughter’s shoulders.
A green little colt, brash and confident. His pink mane fluttered in the wind, strong hooves sat firmly upon the ground.
A stocky, young mare, red ribbons in her blonde mane. Her coat was a full yellow, like the sun she worked long under.
A trio of ponies, blue, brown, and pink. Two bounced eagerly upon their hooves, while the third sat quietly, diminished and subtle.
They knew not their forebears, besides those odd pictures and tales from so long ago. Yet, when her eyes gazed upon them, Twilight understood. They were the New, the Next – if memories were heirlooms, then those three little ponies wore many treasured baubles upon them.
Through those small little ponies, she could remember her old friends - years to be treasured, and memories to be kept close to her heart.
Twilight smiled, turning back to the mayor. Tears threatened to pour through, her thoughts focused on those dearly passed friends, yet she blinked them away. “Oh, nothing. Simply an odd idea.” A few paces away, a chariot landed, two armored pegasi strutting fancily upon the green grass. “Actually, I might be back soon. I’ve a few ponies I’d like to meet.”
She knew she wanted to meet them – perhaps there were more, hiding within that dense crowd. They were the sapling, the offspring of Time. The sapling was a truth, and the truth was a memory.
We lose them to Time, but Time brings them back.
The Old begat Time, and Time begets the New.
