Chapter 1: All Is Well

Love, an invisible force that is ever-present. It is something that everypony seeks, something that is long desired. At the same time, it is something that is easily overlooked, forgotten, neglected, yet it is always there, waiting patiently for anypony who looks for it eagerly. One can argue that it is the most powerful magic in all of Equestria. Dispelling darkness and evil, one has every reason to argue so, and yet... maybe it isn’t magic at all.

Yes, magic shares its qualities with love, both being enchanting and marvelous, yet magic is complex, exclusive to only a certain group of ponies. Love, however, is simple and available to everypony. There is no special incantation nor complex spell to conjure it. No. It is ever-present. Held within the hearts of all ponies, within the hearts of pegasi, alicorns, unicorns, and earth ponies alike. It transcends distance, time, and space; it binds each pony together, so that loved ones are never truly lost.

Yes, indeed, love is a remarkable thing...

Chapter 1
All Is Well

Cockledoodle doo!

The sound of a distant rooster echoed across the rolling green acres of pear trees, eventually making its way to a small wooden house, through a window, and into a small bedroom.

Groaning, an aged stallion, lying comfortably on a bed, began to open his eyes, awakening from a deep sleep.

“Morning already? Well then Grand Pear, you better get your old keister to it,” he muttered to himself as he stretched and inched his way out of his comfortable warm bed. “Those pears won’t pick themselves.”

He then made his way through his empty house and to the kitchen, grabbing a ripe green pear off the fruit basket lying on the kitchen table.

As he opened the front door, he was greeted with the cool, refreshing Vanhoover breeze. The rising sun shined gently on him, giving him some warmth from the chilly, northern air. The view was, of course, spectacular. The small hill he had chosen to build on offered a breathtaking view of the valley.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before biting down into the juicy pear. He stood there for a moment, admiring the beauty and majesty of all of his hard work before trotting down the stone path into the seemingly never-ending fields of pear trees.

He grudgingly pulled weeds that came across his way and harvested the sweet, juicy pears from the trees that were spread throughout the vast acres of land, fertilized the young saplings, then tilled the soil to make way for new pear trees.

Later in the day, he would take the harvested pears into his barn, where the fruit were made into tasty jams, cider, preserves, and other products. Later in the week, he would head into the Vanhoover market and sell his products to the eager townsponies, who quickly developed a strong liking to his merchandise.

This was the routine and life for him. Gone were the days of having his daughter help him work the land. For many moons, he fought long and hard to part away those precious memories and bury them to be long forgotten.

From sun up to sundown, he worked the fields, made pear products, and sold them in the Vanhoover market, all by himself. Since he moved from Ponyville, business was quickly taking off as ponies from across the town regularly ventured to his fruit stand, waiting eagerly to buy some of his delicious pears.

“All is well,” he told himself day after day, night after night. “All is well.”

But the past had a funny way of reminding him about what he had lost.

During a particularly sunny summer afternoon, as he was working the trees in the north field, closest to the main entrance, he heard a friendly, familiar voice call out to him from a distance.

“Hello! Mr. Grand Pear?”

Tending to a pear tree on a ladder, he quickly shifted his attention to the voice. Squinting his eyes against the bright sun, he could just barely make out the familiar image of a young stallion with a brown coat and thick blonde mane. He stood just a few yards away from behind the front gate and was wearing a postal hat and had on a large saddle bag.

“Sticky Stamp!” Grand Pear called out waving his hoof. He climbed down the ladder and trotted towards the gate. “Good to see you!”

“You too sir,” he said as he shook the older stallion’s hoof.

“What can I do you for?” Grand Pear asked.

“Well sir, I have quite a bit of mail for you. Just sign here,” he replied as he took out a clipboard and pen from his saddlebags.

“Now how many times do I have to tell you lad? Just Grand Pear will do,” he said with a smile, taking the pen and signing the receipt.

Sticky Stamp nodded and gave him a large packet of letters, held tightly together by a thick rubber band. “So Grand Pear, how has the pear season been?”

“Wonderful. Great so far. Business is doing very fine. Very... fine,” he answered, not paying much attention as he shifted through the mail.

“I know I say this time and time again, but I must say that your pear jam is simply delicious!” continued Sticky Stamp, trying to keep the conversation alive. “I never had anything like it before! I kinda wish you had moved here to Vanhoover sooner so I could have had it sooner!”

Grand Pear continued to shift through the mail silently.

“So… umm. I heard from some of the towns ponies that you’re originally from Ponyville right?”

At this, he successfully grabbed his attention. One of the larger letters slipped out of his hooves, and tumbled to the ground. Grand Pear snapped his head up and blinked a few times at Sticky Stamp. “I-I, yes. Though that was sometime ago.”

“Why that’s a good distance from Vanhoover," Sticky Stamp said as he picked up the letter and returned it to him. "Well, what made you move here?”

“A number of things,” he said with a sigh as he stared blankly at the ground. "Just needed a change of pace.”

“Well, I respect that. Vanhoover is a great place isn’t it? It’s a great a place to unwind and settle down. I grew up here my whole life an—“ He stopped, noticing a sudden change of expression on Grand Pear’s face. Grand Pear, who only a moment before, had a calm expression, quickly transformed into a bitter angry look, a look that caused him to become unsettled.

Indeed Grand Pear was angry, not at Sticky Stamp for being so talkative, but rather at what he was holding. In his hoof was a pink letter, a letter from a past he had almost long forgotten, a letter from Sweet Apple Acres. A flurry of angry emotions began to develop inside him, so much so that his hoof, which held the letter tightly, began to shake.

Sticky Stamp anxiously stared at him. “Grand Pear?” he asked softly, “Is everything alright?”

He snorted, and fiercely locked his eyes at him. “Now listen here,” he said angrily, “Next time you see a letter from this here pony, get rid of it! I never want to see a letter like this ever again! Do you understand me boy?”

Sticky Stamp took the pink letter from him. His eyes grew wide in wonder as he looked down at the letter to see who had sent it.

“Pear Butter?” he said in awe. “You two related or somethin’? It’s addressed from Ponyville…”

“That’s enough out of you!" Grand Pear shouted with tears in his eyes, "The only thing I want from you is my mail with not a single letter from that name and that address! For your sake boy, never bring this topic up again.”

Like an enraged bull, he stomped his hooves and marched away towards his house.

Years had passed since then. For Grand Pear, it was business as usual. He carried out the same duties and routines as before, however things were never quite the same since that letter made its way to his hooves. As he pulled weeds in the fields, his mind would picture Pear Butter’s bright colored mane, filled with sweat, glistening in the bright sun as she pulled the weeds in their old farm in Ponyville. As he picked the ripe fruit from the trees, his mind would remember the sound of his daughter's laugh as she stood on a ladder, gleefully picking fruit and tossing it down for him to catch, a game that she would love to play when she was a filly. As he stood patiently waiting for customers behind his fruit stand in the market, he would remember Pear Butter, standing with him in their old fruit stand in Ponyville as she eagerly talked to him about the exciting day that she had with her friends.

The memories he recalled were like a plague, an unwanted illness that he so desperately wished he could be cured from. Day after day, he slowly began engrossing himself in his work, hoping that in doing so, it would forever keep his mind away from those memories.

Until one day, while tending to the trees in the north field, the same voice that caused him so much pain from years before called out to him again.

“Mr. Grand Pear?” Sticky Stamp called out gently, standing behind the front gate. “Got some mail for you.”

“Just leave it in the mailbox like you always do,” he called out as he busily picked fruit from a tree. “No need for my signature.”

“Yes sir”, Sticky Stamp said quietly as he placed the letters in the mailbox. “Actually, sir? May I speak to you for a moment?”

Grand Pear looked at him sternly from atop the ladder. He slowly made his way down and then to the gate. “Yes?” he said calmly.

“I know you asked me to never bring this topic up again, and please, please don’t get angry sir. But I thought you should know that the pony who sent you that pink letter a while ago hasn’t sent you a letter for quite some time now,” Sticky Stamp said in a soft voice.

Hearing his melancholic tone, he proceeded to grab the mail from the mailbox, carefully trying to hide his interest. “So what? It shouldn’t be surprising, being that I never write back.”

“I understand that Mr. Grand Pear, but you should know that she has been writing to you almost every week for several years, up until recently that is.”

He froze with the mail held tightly in his hoof. He couldn’t believe that she continued to write to him frequently, despite him not writing back. Was she alright? He shook his head and turned his back from the young stallion, slowly making his way back to his house.

Sticky Stamp took off his hat and held it squarely over his heart. “You should know sir that I kept all those letters, hoping that one day, you would read them. I know that it probably isn’t my place to tell you this, but I feel that you should let go of any past feud you may have had with your family. My family is so precious to me and I haven’t got the slightest clue what I would do without them. I can’t imagine how hard it must be trying to keep that kind of love away. This, Pear Butter, obviously cares a lot about you.”

Grand Pear stopped in his tracks.

The lad is right, he thought to himself. But after all these years, after what he did, how could he ever set things right? How could a daughter ever forgive her father for leaving her at a time when she needed him the most?

Letting out a sad sigh, he slowly turned his head towards Sticky Stamp and gave him the answer he would tell himself time and time again, whenever he began to ponder about his family.

“The past is the past,” he said coldly. “Best not to dwell on it.”