Earth Ponies Are Blessed with Suck

Chapters

The Gift That Keeps on Giving
Research Now, Rant Later
The Best Party Favor Ever
It's Got To Be Her Destiny

The Gift That Keeps on Giving

This story follows a divergent timeline from the S6 premiere. However, I will use information revealed in Seasons 6 through 9 that doesn't conflict with this story line.

Castle of Friendship – Three days after Applejack's ascension

Mornings in my castle home weren't as quiet as they once were. Neither were afternoons and evenings, since my friends were spending more time with me to help with the life infusion project. There were also ponies who stopped by to ask me about participating in the studies. I created forms for them to fill out, so that I would know their contact information, ages, and tribes. Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy volunteered to assist with organizing the forms, but Pinkie soon became wrapped up in planning Applejack's party. And so Fluttershy took on the role of the castle receptionist.

“Fluttershy,” I tactfully told her, “you know I really appreciate your help.”

“Oh, it's no trouble at all.” She smiled. “The baby wrens are self-feeding now, so I have more free time to help out. And the squirrels love organizing things inside a giant tree.”

My ear twitched as I watched one of the rodents climb into a filing cabinet. “Yeah, about that, are you sure this is the best place for them? Wouldn't they feel more comfortable in your cottage?”

“Not necessarily. Squirrels adapt to all kinds of habitats and situations.” She stared at another squirrel scaling the cabinet, bearing a sheet of paper in its paw.

Poking his head into the room, Spike said, “Did you tell her you don't want a bunch of animals running around the castle?”

“Spike!” I exclaimed.

“So, that's a no,” he deadpanned.

Fluttershy's ears flattened. “Um, I'm afraid I don't understand, Twilight. I thought you liked animals. What about Owloysius?”

I sighed. “I liked Owloysius, but he flew away after Golden Oak Library was destroyed. He didn't like the castle.” With a sheepish smile, I added, “I'm glad some animals like giant crystal trees. I just have concerns about the squirrels putting the forms in the correct order. As far as I know, squirrels can't read.”

Fluttershy waved her foreleg. “Don't worry, I've already thought of that. Squirrels can't read, but they can tell different shapes apart. That's why each form has a different shaped tab attached to it.” Pointing her hoof at the nearest page, she said, “See, this triangle is for today.” A squirrel snatched it off the desk and scurried over to the cabinet.

“Oh, well, in that case . . .” I rubbed my right foreleg against my left. “As long as that works for everypony.”

“Everycreature,” corrected Spike.

“Come on, Spike, you say everypony most of the time,” said Rainbow Dash, brushing past him into the room before turning around to face him. Rarity trotted inside afterward.

“Why not just say everyone?” asked Rarity. “It's shorter and it's more inclusive.”

“Fine, then I'm glad we found a filing system that works for everyone,” I said, raising an eyebrow at the two of them.

“Were we interrupting anything, darling?” asked Rarity.

“Twilight and Fluttershy just resolved their differences and came to an understanding,” explained Spike, “so I think you came at just the right time,” he added, giving Rarity a lingering look.

“Aw, did we miss a friendship lesson?” asked Rainbow.

I rubbed my neck. “Only if learning that squirrels are good at organizing even though they can't read counts as a friendship lesson. So, what's on your mind?”

Rarity grinned. “Dashie and I were wondering if we could use your new library for the day.”

“Of course!” A smile stretched across my face. “You don't even have to ask!” I pranced in place as my enthusiasm grew. “But I do love hearing you say that you want to use the library. Is there any particular book you're looking for?”

My friends all shared an amused look before Rainbow spoke up.

“We need all the books on magic,” she said.

Rarity lifted her foreleg. “Specifically, books that might have unfinished spells.”

“So you can use new magic and become alicorns?” asked Fluttershy.

“You got it,” said Dash with a nod. “And what better place to find an unfinished spell than a library?”

“Well, I don't know of any more unfinished spells off the top of my head, but that doesn't mean there aren't any.” I turned toward the door and peeked over my shoulder at them. “Star Swirl the Bearded is always a good author to start with, and you should also check out books on Clover the Clever and Somnambula. The older books are written in Old Ponish, so you'll need an Old Ponish to Modern Ponish dictionary. I'll show you where it is!” I trotted out the door and almost ran into a pegasus mare. It took me a second to put a name to the face.

“How are you . . . Blossomforth?” I asked carefully. “Are you interested in our life infusion project?”

“Yes, that's why I'm here! Where do I sign up?” she asked.

A squirrel ran up to her and held up a blank form. “Oh, thank you!” she said, taking the paper in her wing.

“We'll take care of it,” said Fluttershy with a smile. “Go do your research.”

“Thanks, Fluttershy,” I said, before glancing down at the rodent. “And squirrels.”

Then I led Rainbow, Rarity, and Spike to the library. “I'll help you two research until my new equipment arrives.”

“New equipment?” Rarity tilted her head.

“It'll help Twilight measure earth pony stuff. You know, life force and things like that,” explained Spike.

“Thank you, Spike,” I said. “That way we'll have actual numbers to work with instead of just guessing and feeling.” As I reached the door to the library, I opened it with my unicorn magic. Even after living in the castle for several months, the sight of books stretching from floor to ceiling never got old. I'd salvaged some of the books from the old library and ordered brand new books to fill the space. My nostrils filled with the aroma of new and old paper bound in cardboard and cloth.

“Okay, the spell book section is from there to there.” I pointed from one shelf partition to another. “And the history of magic section is right next to it.”

“Those both sound like good places to start searching,” commented Rainbow as she flew over to the spellbook section.

I flapped up to a high bookshelf and selected the Old/Modern Ponish dictionary. “This is essential for some of the volumes that were written before Celestia's coronation. And Luna's, I suppose.”

Rarity enveloped the book in her blue aura. “Thank you, Twilight, you're a dear.”

“You're more than welcome!” I beamed. “Honestly, I'm glad you two are excited about becoming alicorns!”

“Of course we're excited!” said Dash. “Being an alicorn is gonna be so awesome!” Spreading her forelegs, she added, “I'll be even faster, I'll have super strength and radical unicorn spells, and, oh yeah, immortality!”

“That's my favorite part,” agreed Spike.

“At least you get it, Spike! I don't get why AJ and the others are so mopey about it.”

“You know Applejack,” said Rarity with a shrug. “She doesn't deal very well with change, even when it's good change.”

“I think she's starting to come around,” I said. “I was teaching her telekinesis yesterday, and she has the coordination of a ten year-old foal.”

Rarity smiled. “That's not too bad considering she's only been able to telekinese for three days.”

“That's what I told her,” I said with a nod. “She says her magic is too loud, but it doesn't sound particularly loud to me. I think she's just not used to hearing her own magic. But it makes it easier to pick up pretty much everything, so she said she's going to try to use her aura more often.”

“Yes, appealing to Applejack's practicality is the only way to get through to her sometimes,” said Rarity, opening the dictionary.

“You're talking about Applejack, right?” Dash said skeptically. “When has she ever wanted to do things the easy way?”

“Hm, I see what you mean,” said Rarity. “She only wants to do things the easy way if she's desperate or in a hurry. How did you convince her, Twilight?” She glanced at me over the top of the book.

“Well, I think you two are underestimating her practicality just a little. All I told her was that she wouldn't have to use mitts or holders to handle anything hot or sharp or germ-infested, and she was sold,” I answered with a smile.

“Oh! That's a good point. There's only so much feather fingers can do.” Dash flexed her primary feathers to demonstrate. “At least you found something that works,” she added before letting out a sigh. “I just wish I knew what it would take to convince Pinkie that she should become an alicorn. I mean, she's had years to come to terms with this. What's her hang-up?”

“I thought she explained her reasons well,” I said. “She didn't even understand what had happened to her for a long time.”

“But after she found out she almost became an alicorn, why didn't she finish going through with it? I mean, she already uses magic to make ponies happy. Imagine how much easier it would be for her if she had wings and a horn to channel all her magic!” She let out another raspy sigh. “I just don't understand why some ponies hold themselves back when they have so much potential to be awesome!”

“You're right, but I think it would help more if you told her what you just told us,” said Spike.

“Yeah? I'll do that after I finish researching for the day.” Dash withdrew a book from the shelf and opened it. “This chapter serves as an introduction to devices that emit light through a process based on the stimulated emission of thaumic radiation aaaand I'm done.” She dropped the book and flew toward the door. Gently, I grabbed her with my telekinesis just long enough to stop her. “Very funny, Rainbow. It's just a book about magic lasers – you're not going to find anything useful there.”

“Wait, magic lasers?” Dash zoomed back and picked the book off the floor. “That sounds awesome!”

“I agree, but would they be considered new magic?” asked Rarity with an arched eyebrow. “They have already been invented.”

“I'll bet there are all kinds of things you can do with lasers that haven't been done before! You could use them to make pictures, maybe mount one on a canon . . .”

“Wow, really?” Spike folded his arms. “How does that show that you understand the true meaning of friendship?”

“Well, fine!” Rainbow put the book back on the shelf – to my relief, it was in the correct spot. “I guess lasers won't help me ascend.”

“What book would you pick, Spike?” asked Rarity.

Spike blinked in surprise. “You're asking me? But Twilight–”

“I know she's the resident magical expert, but out of all of us in this room, you're the second most knowledgeable about magic books, wouldn't you agree?”

I nodded. “Go ahead, Spike. I'm sure you'll pick a good one.”

His cheeks turned pink. “Well, I do have one idea.”

“It's not another magic comic book, is it?” Rainbow crossed her forelegs.

He sighed. “You're not gonna let that go, are you.”

“I for one wasn't planning on speaking of it again,” commented Rarity.

“Well, no, it's not what you just said, Rainbow,” answered Spike with a quick peek at Rarity. “It's called The Incomplete History of Magic.”

Sweet Apple Acres – That same morning

“Y'know, Applejack, this isn't what I was expectin' you to do with your new magic,” said Apple Bloom as she observed her sister using her twinkling green aura to move a log inside the fireplace. As she did so, Applejack gestured with her hoof as if she were directing the firewood.

“I know, but y'see, Twilight was tellin' me how I could pick up hot things so much easier with unicorn magic.” Applejack lowered the wood and released her telekinetic hold. “So I got to thinkin', what's hotter than fire?”

“Magma,” Bloom answered at once.

“Okay, smarty pants, but magma’s mighty hard to find on a farm.” AJ tugged another chunk of dead tree from underneath the pile and hovered it a foot into the air. “It's the darnedest thing – I don't feel the heat, but I can feel the weight and shape of the log with my magic.” She made a circle with her foreleg. “Anyway, at least the cracklin' of the fire covers up the noise from this horn.”

“It's really not loud.”

“It is when it's attached to your skull.” Applejack held her hoof to the base of her horn.

“I'll take your word for it.” Apple Bloom regarded her sister in silence for a few seconds before commenting, “I don’t think all those hoof motions are necessary.”

Her sister’s aura winked out and the log crashed onto the hearth, sending up ashes and smoke. Both ponies coughed and Applejack spread her wings and fanned the smoke back into the fireplace. Apple Bloom ran toward the windows to open them, and in less than a minute the air was clear.

“You did good controllin' the air current,” remarked Apple Bloom. “You might be better at pegasus magic than unicorn magic. Has Rainbow Dash tried teachin' you any more?”

“A bit. I glided the other day, but I haven't properly flown yet, and Dash started gettin' a tad testy 'cause it's supposed to be harder for pegasi to learn how to glide when they're just startin' out.”

“That's interestin'. But that means it should be easier for you to fly, then!” Apple Bloom beamed.

Sighing, Applejack let her horn grow dim, and in a lowered voice, she said, “Sugar cube, can you keep this between us?”

Her sister quirked an eyebrow. “Um, sure. What is it?”

“It doesn't seem right that I should fly while Scootaloo is still strugglin'. It can't be easy to watch another pony get handed somethin' that she's wanted her whole life, somethin' that everypony else in her tribe has. And I probably won't be the last pony without wings to suddenly get ‘em, if you know what I'm sayin'.”

Bloom's smile faded as she considered this dilemma. “Well now, that's awfully considerate of you sis, but I reckon you're underestimatin' Scootaloo just a mite. I don't think she'd hold it against you. She ain't really the jealous type.”

AJ gave her a little smile. “I s'pose you're right, sugar cube. I was just thinkin' how I would feel if I was the only earth pony in town who didn't have earth pony strength. I didn't know how to talk to Rainbow about it because I know she's already taken Scootaloo to the doctor and they couldn't do nothin' for her. It upsets her to talk about it sometimes. I think grownups have a harder time dealin' with problems we can't solve.”

Apple Bloom chewed on this nugget for a moment. “Seems to me like grownups have a hard time dealin’ with a lot of things. Like bein’ a princess.”

Applejack let out another sigh. “Sugar cube, we’ve already gone over this.”

“It just seems to me that if you got wings and a horn and earth pony strength and a throne in a castle,” she paused so she could take a breath, “then you’re a princess.”

Her sister stomped her hoof, making the floorboards shudder. “There’s no rule that says you have to be a princess if you got all those things!”

“Maybe not, but it’s – it’s tradition!”

AJ pointed her hoof. “Don’t you dare use tradition against me!”

“I ain’t usin’ it against anypony! All I’m tryin' to say is that it’s not a bad thing for you to become a princess. I mean there are plenty of other creatures that became leaders for sillier reasons, as far as I can tell. Princess Cadence was just a filly who used love magic or somethin', and King Thorax just happened to be the first changeling to give love instead of takin' it. And you just happened to be the first pony to infuse your life force into another pony. That makes you at least as qualified as Thorax!” Bloom finished triumphantly, stretching out her foreleg.

“You should be a lawyer,” said Applejack with a wry smile.

“I'll do that if my career as a cutie mark coach slash farmer slash potion maker doesn't work out,” her sister rattled off.

Laughing, AJ ruffled Bloom's mane. “How did my little sister get so smart?”

“Are you admittin' I'm right?”

Her older sister held up her hoof. “I'm admittin' that you might have a point about me bein' more ready for government work than I thought.”

Apple Bloom screwed up her eyebrows. “Seriously? That's the worst description of princess I've ever heard.”

Castle of Friendship – Two Hours Later

“This is taking forever!” groaned Rainbow.

“What are you talking about?” I asked rhetorically. “It’s only eleven o’clock! You’ve got most of the day left to find a potential spell to complete!” I held out my foreleg.

“And we're making progress!” added Rarity, levitating a thick tome onto a stack next to Dash. “We've got it narrowed down to a few titles, and I think I'll learn something useful from An Incomplete History of Magic even if doesn't have an unfinished spell.”

“All I care about is finding new magic I could do, but this book is so dry that I have to read each paragraph three times just to understand it!” Rainbow held up Thaumaturgy before the Founders in her hoof. “And it's so heavy that I have to hold it with my hoof instead of my wings! I should’ve stuck with magic lasers.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Your wings are strong enough to lift your body weight. Why would you struggle to lift that book?”

Dash hunched said wings in a variation of a shrug. “Different weight distribution. It's easier to lift something strapped to your back than it is when you hold it away from your core.”

I nodded. “Oh, yeah. That makes sense.”

“The point is, this book is too dense. It'll take a miracle for me to find a spell I can understand, much less perform.” Rainbow let the book fall to the table with a slam that made the rest of us jump. “Ugh, sorry,” she said.

“You just need a break,” said Spike. “Get something to drink, fly around the castle for a few minutes and come back with a fresh mind.”

I beamed and placed my wingtip on top of his scaly head. “I taught you well.”

Shaking his head, Spike said, “More like I had to learn to make you take breaks from all your studying.”

Rainbow sighed. “You're right, Spike. I just need to clear my head for a bit.” She put one cyan hoof on top of the open book and wedged the other under the spine. Then she flipped it over so that the open pages landed with a soft thud against the crystal table.

My right eyelid twitched and I wondered if the muscle spasm was visible to my friends and little brother. “Um, Rainbow?” I fought to keep my voice calm. “Do you think you could use a bookmark? Please?”

Dash looked down at the book. “Sure, no problem.” She flipped it back over and slid a smaller book onto the pages; then she closed the cover over it.

The muscle spasm persisted. “Rainbow Dash, a book is not a bookmark.”

“It is at my house.”

“Darling,” said Rarity with a sympathetic glance in my direction, “we're not at your house.” Using her blue aura, she took the two books and carefully extracted the smaller one. I floated a bookmark in my own shimmering magic and it into the pages, breathing a sigh of relief.

Dash threw her forelegs and her wings in the air. “This book and I have tortured each other long enough.” With that, she flapped upward and soared out of the room.

However, Rarity continued undeterred, working her way through The Incomplete History of Magic.

Her brow furrowed, and then her eyes opened wide. “Ooooh, this spell has potential. Has anypony ever combined Star Swirl's portal spell with his Temporus Momentum spell?”

“No time travel!” I said curtly. While I didn't want to be rude, I was determined to nip this spell in the bud.

“I wouldn't exactly call it a time travel spell.” Rarity sounded a bit defensive.

“Rarity,” I said firmly, “You're talking about creating a portal to a different point in the timeline. That's a time travel spell.”

Suddenly there was a knock on the door, and then Fluttershy poked her head into the room. “Excuse me, I hope I'm not interrupting anything important.”

“Fluttershy, you're the last pony who should worry about interrupting anypony,” I told her. “In fact, maybe you can talk some sense into Rarity.”

“Um . . .” Fluttershy's ears flattened. “I would have to know what you two are talking about first.”

“What did you want to tell us, Fluttershy?” prompted Spike.

“Maud is here with the vitameter and the longevity reader,” she answered, straightening her ears.

“Finally!” I fluttered my wings in excitement. “I'll go meet her.”

“No need.” Maud slid behind Fluttershy, who let out an adorable squeak. “I followed Fluttershy. Nice digs, Twilight,” she added, taking in the view of the glossy ceiling and floor. “The crystal is very friendly.”

I shifted my wings and shuffled my hooves. “Well, it is the Castle of Friendship.”

“Did you say 'digs'?” asked Spike.

“It's a mining term.” Maud gently pushed past Fluttershy and continued, “It refers to digging out the best mines for mineral growth and claiming it for oneself.”

Spike tilted his head. “Huh.”

“I'm glad you came, Maud,” I said sincerely. “The professors at the Manehattan College of Earth Studies haven't been exactly helpful,” I added with a slight shake of my head.

“That's because the ponies in higher education are jerks,” she answered bluntly. “They think that the knowledge of friendship and magic should be shared only with other ponies. And the chancellor and administrators at the College of Earth Studies are some of the worst. According to them, anypony who can't use earth magic shouldn't know about it.”

“Wow, Maud.” Spike folded his arms. “Tell us how you really feel.”

“Okay. I really feel like I should transfer to the Equestrian Institute of Rocktology, where they understand that the magic of the earth does not belong to only the earth ponies.”

“I was being . . .” Spike sagged in defeat. “Never mind.”

“Excuse me, Maud, but that wasn't my experience at all when I stayed in Manehattan. No one treated me any differently because I was a unicorn,” said Rarity, holding her hoof to her chest. “True, they have a reputation for being a bit rude, but that's only because there are so many ponies there that if they said 'how are you' to everyone they saw and 'excuse me' to everyone they bumped into, they'd be doing it all day.”

“Don't get me wrong,” said Maud. “Most of the ponies in Manehattan are fine. I'm only talking about the college leadership.” Turning to stare at me, she said, “Surely it was the same in Canterlot.”

I glanced away. “It's not quite as bad as it used to be. They're trying to be more inclusive, but they're taking baby steps.” I gazed at the spot where Fluttershy had stood, but she'd slipped away while I wasn't looking.

“The College of Earth Studies isn't even pretending to be inclusive. They don't know that I brought their vitameter and longevity reader here, and I'd prefer to keep that between you and your friends,” Maud told me.

“I'm sorry, but please tell me you didn't steal them,” said Rarity, narrowing her eyes.

“I didn't steal them,” deadpanned Maud. “I borrowed them without asking. Granny Pie always said that it's better to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission.”

I raised my foreleg to object before realizing that I didn't have a leg to stand on, with all of the experimental magic I had tested in my career, not to mention my attempt to steal a book from the forbidden section of the Royal Canterlot Library.

Instead, I said, “So, why don't you show me how to use the readers.”

“Sure.” Maud reached into her bulging saddlebag and pulled out a horseshoe that was made of silvery gray stone with light blue gemstones embedded in the outer edge, and with a ruby on one end. Engraved in the stone was a number below each blue jewel.

“This is a vitameter. It has a hematite structure with thaumically attuned aquamarines for visual display and a red corundum for the on/off switch. Hematite is an iron oxide that is widespread due to its alignment with earth magic. It crystallizes in a rhombohedral lattice angle, which is the same structure as the corundum, but I'm sure you figured that out if you didn't already know it.”

As Maud droned on, Rarity picked up another book and flipped through the pages.

Spike caught my eye before turning to Maud. “Uh, Maud, I love crystals as much as the next . . . creature, but aren't you gonna show Twilight how to use the meter?”

Maud blinked. “Okay. It's simple. All you do is turn it on,” she said, clicking the ruby to one side and causing it to emit a red glow. “Then you place it on your front hoof,” she continued, positioning the device like a normal horseshoe. “And then you use life infusion. You already know how to use life infusion, correct?”

When I nodded, she continued. “The life force has to pass through the vitameter or it won't give a measurement.” She reached into her pocket and held up Boulder in her shod hoof. “It has been a few years since I fed Boulder.” Maud stared intently at her pet rock, and the aquamarines lit up one after the other. At first, nothing seemed to happen to Boulder, but then the surface on top began to glisten with tiny crystals.

After several more seconds, a quartet of four-sided crystals grew out of the top, each one the size of a carrot stick. The entire process took about two minutes.

“It takes eighty vitas to grow crystals like this,” explained Maud, pointing at the glowing aquamarine with the number 80 below it.

“Fascinating.” I rubbed my chin and stared at Boulder. “Would you say it's more difficult to grow crystals than plants, or does it just take longer?”

“Plants are faster and more responsive, and most ponies find them easier to grow. But Pies have always had more difficulty controlling plants and getting them to produce the way we want. You've seen what our farm is like.” She set Boulder on the table and actually smiled at it – only a small curving of her mouth, and just briefly, but it didn't escape my notice. “Rocks are more stubborn and resistant, but that makes them more enduring and rewarding to cultivate. The only forces that can destroy them are erosion, my hooves, or our teeth,” she added with a significant look at Spike.

I grabbed my notebook and quill from the nearest table, but before I could take any notes, Maud held out the vitameter to me.

“Would you like to try?” she asked.

I took the meter in my hoof and glanced at Boulder.

Maud saw me eyeing her pet rock and snatched it up, holding it protectively to her chest. “I meant on something other than Boulder.”

“Of course, Maud.” I managed a reassuring smile. “Usually I test my magic on fruit, but there doesn't seem to be any around.”

“Well, yeah. It's a library,” said Spike, waving his arm. “You already had that talk with Pinkie Pie about bringing food in here.”

“Oh. Right. Well, we could go to the kitchen.” I peered at the doorway.

“You could,” said Maud. “Or you could use life infusion on the castle, if the castle is okay with it.”

“If the castle is . . .” I stared at her for a second. This was a little strange even for a Pie. “I mean, I know the castle is an outgrowth of the Tree of Harmony, but I never thought of the castle being its own living entity.”

“Of course it is.” She tilted her head for a moment as if listening to something only she could hear before nodding. “This castle is the tree's offspring.”

Hunching his shoulders, Spike peered at the walls. “You mean our house is alive? Is it watching and listening to us?”

“To quote my sister Marble, 'Mm-hm,'” said Maud, oblivious to Spike's discomfort. “It's like a member of your family.”

Spike made a muted noise of disgust.

“And it wants you to have a small amount of its life force, Twilight,” added Maud.

Holding my foreleg to my chest, I stared down at the smooth floor, half expecting to see a secret message there. “You can actually talk to . . . rocks and minerals?”

“You've seen me do it.”

Even without looking at her, I could feel Maud's penetrating gaze.

“But I mean . . . I just thought . . .” I had thought that she was at best playing a game, and at worst mentally ill. But I couldn't come out and say that.

“You thought that they didn't talk back.”

I nodded, relieved that she had said it instead of me.

“It's okay. Most earth ponies can't hear minerals. You have to have a special talent for it.” She gently rubbed her hooves over Boulder.

Making an effort to keep an open mind, I asked, “What do minerals sound like when they talk to you?”

“It's not a sound, or even words. It's a feeling in my hooves and images in my head,” replied Maud. “When the castle spoke to me just now, it projected an image of you using inbound life infusion on it.”

Taking a deep breath, I said, “Alright, I'll give it a try.” I adjusted the vitameter, making sure there was even space between the edge of the horseshoe and the edge of my hoof. Then I lowered it to the floor and called up my earth thauma. Remembering the lesson from five days earlier, I sent it out through my hoof and twisted it the way I had with the bean plant. The thauma made a hairpin turn and shot back into me. The jewels lit up – one, two, three, four, five . . .

“How much is a little?” I asked Maud.

“Keep going. It's a crystal tree, so it has a big reserve,” she said.

I kept drawing in more life force, but I couldn't feel the flow rate increase, despite more of the gems glowing. If Applejack thought unicorn magic was too loud, I thought earth magic was too quiet. I could feel my unicorn magic in addition to seeing and hearing it, but I could merely feel my earth magic, and 60 vitas felt the same as 10 vitas to me. I could understand why it was challenging for many earth ponies to control magic. A vitameter would be essential for me to observe what I was doing. And the galling thing to me was that most earth ponies didn't have access to it. They had to pass an exam to enter a prestigious college. When I ruled Equestria, that would be the first thing to change.

Wait, where had that come from?

At this point I felt the power increasing, spreading to every cell of my body.

“Maybe stop now,” said Maud.

All twenty gems were illuminated.

I jerked my hoof up, but it took exertion, as though gravity had increased on only my hoof. The aquamarines dimmed all at once.

“I should have considered that you are a full-fledged alicorn. A little life force to you might not be a little to a regular pony,” said Maid.

Spike and Rarity both stared at me with their mouths agape.

“Twilight, your mane!” exclaimed Rarity.

I furrowed my brow and glanced down at my hair draped over my shoulder, the way it always did. “What about it?”

“You were doing that capilla-thingy,” said Spike. “Your mane and tail were flowing like Celestia and Luna's!”

My eyes widened. “They were? And I didn't even notice?”

“You probably did feel it, but you didn't recognize what it was,” said Maud. “Did Pinkie explain about thinking of your hair as an extension of your body?”

I grit my teeth, endeavoring to keep my frustration from showing. “Yes. She did.”

“Then you must have felt the life force flow to your mane and tail.”

Thinking about what she said, I relaxed my jaw. “I guess I did feel the life force in my mane and tail, but I couldn't feel them moving.”

“You will in time,” said Maud. “The more energy and life force you have, the more heightened your senses are.”

“How do you feel now, Twilight?” Rarity leaned toward me.

I flexed my legs and wings. “It's like every fiber of my being is vibrating. I can feel the energy in every part of my body.”

Maud nodded. “That checks out. Would you like to take your longevity reading now?” She reached into her pannier once more and pulled out a wand crafted from polished wood with a needled dial on one end. On closer examination, I saw that the dial had blue crystals on its face.

“Do I want to see exactly how long I'm going to live?” I asked. “Absolutely.”

Author's Note

I'm sticking with the longer lifespans for earth ponies in this story. https://mlp.fandom.com/wiki/List_of_ponies/Elders This list of elderly ponies shows that 89% of the elderly ponies featured in the series are earth ponies. The high percentage of older earth ponies would indicate that they do tend to live longer than pegasi and unicorns, but it doesn't prove that they can slow down their aging. The general list of earth ponies is also longer than the other tribes, although I didn't count them. The larger population could be due to their longer lifespan, although this is only a theory. However, I'm still holding out hope that Igneous Rock and Cloudy Quartz will make it to their 500th anniversary.

While “Earth Ponies Are Overpowered” uses the terms “life drain” and “life pulse,” some readers started calling it “life infusion” in the comments. I quickly realized that this sounds more professional, so I used this term in this story, although Applejack still uses the more informal words.

“Vitameter” is my warping of the Latin word meaning “life” plus the ancient Greek word for “measure.” I would've liked to derive the entire word from Greek, but I can't read the Greek alphabet and I couldn't find an English-to-classical-Greek dictionary online that spelled the words phonetically in the modern English alphabet.

Maud's little speech about hematite was paraphrased from Wikipedia, since minerals are not my area of expertise. I'm not sure if crystals really form on the outside of a rock the way Maud made them, but then again, this is a world that has cut gemstones just lying beneath the earth like in Hyrule, so it's safe to say that crystal formation works differently there than in our world.

Research Now, Rant Later

Sweet Apple Acres – Early afternoon

When Applejack figured she spent enough time playing with literal fire for the day, she headed toward the Castle of Friendship to see if Twilight required her assistance with her life infusion project. So she set off down the path through the orchard, slowing her steps as she neared the road. For the first time in years, she found herself reluctant to be around the townsponies – or more specifically, to be seen by them.

She squared her shoulders, noting the strange sensation of her wings shifting as she did so. The other ponies would get used to it eventually, and they would see that she was the same on the inside. Besides, most ponies didn't treat Twilight that differently after she became an alicorn. How much different would it be for Applejack?

She trotted down the hard dirt road toward the castle, passing other ponies who began whispering to each other. Some of them nodded politely or waved at her, but none of them bowed. This was good, in AJ's view. Twilight had already told ponies they didn't have to bow to her, and now they knew not to bow to Applejack.

As she passed Davenport's Quills and Sofas store, Mayor Mare stepped out and waved to her.

“Why, Miss Applejack! I was hoping to run into you!”

Applejack touched the brim of her hat as the Mayor trotted toward her.

“Howdy, Madame Mayor. Anythin' I can help you with?”

“Oh, nothing in particular. I just want to congratulate you on your new station!” The older pony extended her hoof, prompting Applejack to do likewise and meet her with a hoofshake.

“Thank you kindly,” said AJ, “but I want you to know that nothing's changin' right away. I'm still gonna help look after the farm and my little sister.”

“Of course, I wouldn't expect you to leave the farm any time soon. We both know how important Sweet Apple Acres is for the local food supply as well as the economy.”

“Exactly!” Applejack smiled with relief. “I'm glad you understand.”

“Indeed! Still, it is a momentous occasion, especially with you being the first earth pony to become an alicorn, and the first Ponyville citizen, too!”

Applejack blinked. “Thank you, but hasn't Twilight lived here long enough to be considered a Ponyville citizen?”

“Oh, I suppose so, but you were born here! I should know – I keep all the records in Town Hall. For these reasons, I was somewhat perplexed when I received this invitation for your coronation party.” The mayor reached into the bag she was carrying and pulled out a card decorated with apples and glitter. “You see, I had hoped that I would be involved with such an important ceremony. I could understand why I didn't have a role in Twilight Sparkle's coronation, but I hoped that I could be a part yours.”

Applejack held up her foreleg. “Beg pardon, Madame Mayor, lemme stop you right there. It's not a coronation party. See?” She pointed to the card.

“Oh!” The mayor squinted at the page. “Now that you point it out, I see where it might have said 'not a,' but the glitter is covering that part.”

“What?” Applejack examined the letters, and sure enough, they read, “You are cordially invited to Applejack's (glitter blob) Coronation Party.”

Applejack stomped her hoof. “Dagnabbit! I s'pose it's too late to get these redone and sent out. The party's in four days.”

“So it's not a coronation party?” asked the mayor with a wrinkled brow. “Then what kind of party is it? And why would you draw attention to the coronation if that isn't what it's for?”

“I don't know, it was Pinkie's idea. She planned the whole thing and suggested the name and I said, 'Sure, why not?' It was only supposed to be a get-together for the townsfolk and my family members that haven't seen me since I got these wings and horn.” Applejack flared her wings for emphasis.

“I see.” The mayor tilted her head as if she still didn't quite see, after all. “So, when is your coronation ceremony, then?”

“Heck if I know! Maybe four days from now. Do you reckon folks'll be disappointed if I'm not coronated?”

The mayor rubbed her chin, giving this question serious consideration. “Some of them will be, certainly, but I think just as many ponies will understand your predicament.”

“I need to go talk to Pinkie. It was nice chattin' with you, Madame Mayor.” Applejack brought her hoof to the brim of her hat before dashing away.

“And you as well,” said the mayor. Then she shouted, “If you decide to go through with the coronation, may I bring your crown to you?”

But Applejack didn't hear her. She changed course for Sugar Cube Corner and was in sight of it when a rainbow blur swooped down in front of her path. Applejack slammed all four hooves into the ground and instinctively flared her wings to slow to a stop, inches away from Rainbow as she landed on the road.

“Nice reflexes, AJ!” praised Dash. “You flared your wings to add wind resistance to slow yourself down and everything!” She playfully punched her shoulder. “I'll make a weather pony out of you yet.”

“Land sakes, Dash!” Applejack steadied herself and folded her wings. “I know you're keen on teachin' me how to be a pegasus, and I appreciate that, but right now I gotta find Pinkie. Have you seen the invitations?”

“Sure, what about them?” asked Rainbow with a shrug.

“There's glitter coverin' up where it says 'not a coronation'!”

“Oh, well . . .” Dash looked up in thought. “Are you sure they're all like that? How many did you see?”

“Just the one the mayor got!” AJ shook her head. “We need to find out if all the invitations got messed up.”

“On it!” Shielding her eyes with her hooves, Rainbow sought another creature to ask before settling on Cranky and Matilda, who were seated at a table outside a cafe. “Yo, Cranky!”

The donkey glowered at her. “What do you want?”

Dash soared over and landed next to the table. “Do you have your invitation for Applejack's party?”

“No.”

“I do!” said Matilda, setting her card on the table.

Cranky raised his eyebrow. “Why did you bring that?”

“Because I wanted to ask you what you think this part at the bottom means,” she explained.

Leaning over the card, Cranky read, “Long live the princesses? I think there's another word, but there's glitter over it.”

Applejack cantered over and peered at the invitation. “That part got covered too? It's supposed to say 'Long live the non-princesses.'”

“And what does that mean?” asked Cranky.

AJ sighed. “It means Twilight and I are gonna give life force to anypony – or donkey – who wants it at the party. And we're gonna give Thauma Houses to all the earth pony guests. It's gonna be the best party favor ever!” She raised her hoof with the bottom facing the sky.

“It's still gonna be the best party favor ever,” Rainbow reassured her. “It's just really unclear on the invitation,” she added, waving her foreleg at the card.

“It sounds like it was already unclear even before it got covered in glitter,” grumbled Cranky. “In fact, I'm still not sure what you two are goin' on about.”

“I really should've checked Pinkie's invitations carefully before I gave the go-ahead.” Applejack stared ruefully at the card.

“Well, it sounds like a party we won't want to miss!” said Matilda with a conciliatory smile. “You'll get a crown, Applejack, and I'll get to have more time with my Doodle.” She placed her front hoof over her husband's.

Applejack closed her eyes and brought her hoof to her forehead. “You know it's not a coronation party, right?”

Matilda squinted at her invitation before widening her eyes. “Ohhh. You didn't happen to have these printed at the post office, did you?”

“I don't know.” AJ scratched her head. “Pinkie handled all that. Do they do glitter?”

“I'm not sure, but that's where Doodle went to get our wedding invitations printed, and they printed the wrong date. It was supposed to be a day later. So then we had to scramble to get everything ready in time for all the guests to show up,” elaborated Matilda.

“You're never going to let me forget that, are you,” muttered Cranky.

“How could I?” said Matilda, with an amused smile. “But I'm at the point where I can look back at it and laugh.”

“I'm still not laughin'.” Cranky slouched in his seat.

“Why didn't you just tell everypony to come back tomorrow?” Dash held up her hooves with the bottoms up.

“Some of our guests were from out of town, and they planned their trips around our wedding,” said Matilda. “Guests like Princess Celestia and Princess Luna,” she added pointedly. “We couldn't tell the princesses to come back later because there was a misprint on our invitations!”

“And yet,” said Rainbow, her eyes half-lidded, “you guys shut the door on another princess.”

Matilda winced. “Sorry about that.”

“I'm not,” said Cranky. “I told the mail mare to shut the door right at two o' clock. If you couldn't make it by then, that's your problem.”

“At least we still made it to the reception,” said AJ, in attempt to smooth things over. “And to be honest, Twilight took it pretty well.”

Matilda nodded. “Yes, I thought so too.”

“So, what do you think I should do about my party?” asked Applejack, raising her foreleg.

“Just to be clear, it's not a coronation party?” asked Cranky.

“No.” She shook her head.

“Then it's not important if we have other plans,” he concluded.

Matilda kicked him under the table. “But we don't have other plans, do we.”

“What plans could be more important than the chance to add years to your lives?” asked Dash.

“Not everyone wants to live forever, especially when you're already over the hill,” Cranky adjusted his wig, a wistful expression on his face. “Not unless you ponies have figured out a way to reverse aging.

Applejack cringed. “I'm afraid not. To tell you the truth, I think Granny Smith feels the same way. She doesn't talk about it that much, but I can sense that she's tired.”

Matilda softened as she took her husband's hoof in her own. “We're not that old yet. And no one's saying you have to get the life infusion treatment at the party. You can get it later, or never, if that's what you want.” Then she held her free hoof to her chest. “But I for one am going to stick around as long as possible.”

The two ponies said goodbye to the pair of donkeys shortly after that, realizing they were getting no closer to deciding what to do about the celebration.

“I ought to at least tell Pinkie,” said AJ, as they walked away from the cafe, toward the middle of the street. “She's the one puttin' her heart and soul into plannin' this shindig. I mainly just helped with the guest list.”

“Yeah, but it's your life,” said Dash. “You're the one who's gotta decide whether you want to be a princess. Although, I gotta ask, what is it about being a princess that you don't like? Is it the responsibility? The attention? The . . .” She paused, trying to think of a way to describe what she wanted to say.

“Frou-frou-ness?” suggested Applejack.

“Yeah. Is that what your hang up is, then?”

The new alicorn sighed. “I s'pose it's all three. Maybe I could handle the extra responsibility if it's doled out a little at a time, but I learned my lesson about overdoin' my workload. I don't wanna backslide.”

“Who says you'll backslide? Princesses always get ponies to help them! I mean, that's been Princess Celestia's method since the Summer Sun Celebration in Ponyville! And I'm talking about before Nightmare Moon returned. Princess Celestia didn't do everything herself. She chose you to be in charge of the catering for the festival, and me to be in charge of making the weather perfect!” Rainbow held her hoof to her chest and closed her eyes as if gazing inward. “I think she recognized greatness when she saw it.” Then she opened her eyes and, with a grin, threw her foreleg around her friend and gave her a squeeze.

Applejack smiled and pressed her cheek against Dash's – something she hadn't done in a very long time – probably during one of the celebratory moments they had shared after defeating some villain or another.

“Is bein' supportive tied to bein' the Element o' Loyalty? 'Cause you're real good at it, sugar cube.”

“Could be. I'll always be here to help you, and so will the rest of our friends.”

Applejack still had other concerns about becoming royalty, but she didn't want to spoil the moment. Her worries could wait.

The mood was somewhat ruined when Applejack noticed Cranky, Matilda, and a few ponies staring at her hugging and nuzzling her friend.

Her face turned red as she pulled away from Rainbow. “Well now, I'd best head on into Sugar Cube Corner to talk to Pinkie.”

“I'll go with you,” said Dash. “I've been meaning to talk to her about this princess stuff too.” She glanced at the confectionery building. “You know, we could fly over there.”

Applejack pointed. “Halfway across the street? It's easier just to walk.”

“For you, maybe.” Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Alright, I'll let you off this time, missy.” She jabbed her hoof into her friend's chest. “But there's no way you're getting out of a flying lesson today.”

Castle of Friendship

Spike and I stared at Maud's new reader in fascination, while Rarity's face showed more anxiety. She used her shining aura to raise her book over the lower half of her face, like a miniature shield.

If anything, the longevity gauge appeared more mundane than the vitameter. In fact, it bore more than a little resemblance to some of the pressure gauges I'd seen – a metal wand with a needled dial on one end. On closer inspection, however, I realized that the dial's face had aquamarines to mark the measurements, exactly like the vitameter.

“Unlike the vitameter, you don't have to use earth magic to use a longevity gauge,” stated Maud. “Anypony – or dragon – can use it. But as per usual, the earth pony professors at the Manehattan College of Earth Studies think that they should be the only ponies who know when anyone will die,” she added ominously.

“Is there no other place in Equestria where you could procure this instrument?” Rarity set the book down in her consternation.

I had to admire Rarity. Only the Element of Generosity would feel righteous indignation about stealing from ponies who believed that she didn't deserve their secret knowledge simply because she had a horn instead of earth magic. My jaw clenched at the thought.

“You can get them in shops in Manehattan if you know where to look,” replied Maud, “but most of the vitameters and longevity gauges they sell are cheap pieces of junk that die after a few uses, which is ironic because they measure life force and lifespan.”

Spike crossed his arms. “Yeah, we get it, Maud. So, you said anydragon could use it?”

“Sure. You see, the aquamarines are infused with earth magic that bonds them to life forms and detects the potential, or stored, energy in all beings. All the spellwork has already been done, so if you tried to use magic on it, you would actually damage it.”

Spike shot a questioning glance in my direction. “Can I?”

“Of course. I'm just glad you're so interested in this,” I said with a nod.

“All you have to do is touch the dial to the subject and let the magic aquamarines do their work.” Maud pressed the dial into Spike's outstretched hand. All of the crystals glowed as the needle shot over to 1910.

Spike peered down at the tiny numbers on the dial in his hand. “So it's designed for dragons? Unless you're saying earth ponies live this long, too.”

“Most of us don't live that long. We need to use our magic to stay alive once we get past a century, and earth magic is tricky to control. There are some individuals who have lived over a thousand, like Chancellor Puddinghead, but those are outliers.”

Rarity tilted her head. “Do you mean to tell me that Granny Smith could have met Chancellor Puddinghead when she was a filly?”

“Sure. How do you think Chancellor Puddinghead had time to write so many cookbooks?”

I frowned. “Maud, you said not very many ponies have access to good vitameters. Applejack and Granny Smith made it sound like farmers have more control over life infusion, but do you think any earth pony could learn to control it if they had a vitameter?”

“I believe so, with enough practice,” answered Maud. “And life infusion gives you plenty of time to practice.”

Hearing this made me angrier. I didn't understand how these earth pony professors could seclude themselves inside their university and hoard knowledge for centuries while the ponies in their community died.

“Twilight, darling? Are you alright?” asked Rarity.

I took a deep breath, holding my hoof to my chest and feeling it expand and contract. Research now, rant later.

“I'm fine. It's fine. So, I'll measure my own longevity next. Will it hurt the instrument if I grab it with my telekinesis?” I asked Maud.

“Not as long as you hold it by the wand. If your magic touches the dial, it could disrupt the spells on the aquamarines,” she explained.

With a nervous chuckle, I gripped only the wand with my aura. “It's a good thing I asked.”

I touched the dial to my foreleg. Then I frowned, pulled the dial away, and touched it again. The needle moved to 450 both times.

“Well . . . That's good.” I pursed my lips. “But I kind of thought my reading would be higher than that, since I drew life force from the Castle of Friendship.”

Spike, too, seemed disappointed. “Uh, Maud, are you sure Twilight's magic didn't mess with the reading?”

Maud nodded. “I'm sure. Twilight, you haven't been using life infusion very long, have you?”

I shook my head. “It's been less than a week.” I tapped my chin in thought. “And I did infuse my life force into other ponies yesterday.”

“Well, now you can keep track of your input and output so you can build up your reserve.”

Anxiety reared its ugly head. “Don't you have to give this back?” I swiveled the meter in my thaumic grasp. “How long until the College of Earth Studies notices their readers are missing?”

Maud shrugged. “I don't know. And frankly, I don't care. You can keep those for as long as you want. If the deans ask about them, I can tell them I took the instruments to my family's rock farm and they got crushed under a two-ton boulder.”

Rarity made a choking noise.

“Come on, Rarity,” said Spike. “I know you're the Element of Generosity, but those ponies sound like the worst.”

“So we should only be nice to ponies who are nice to us, is that it?” Rarity asked indignantly. “Is that what we learned from all those friendship lessons?”

Maud held up her hoof. “In my defense, I haven't learned very many friendship lessons.”

My ears lay against my skull. “You're right, Rarity. Of course you are. But I really want to keep these meters. There doesn't seem to be an easy way to get meters of this quality, and I need them for my life infusion project.” I turned to face Maud. “If you tell your school that you broke them and they want you to pay for them, tell me the price and I'll give you the money to give to them. How does that sound?”

“Works for me.”

The rest of us looked to Rarity, who sighed. “I think it's dishonest, but you'll have to take that up with Applejack. And I do hope you'll give the devices back eventually. But it does make me feel better that you're paying the school for them,” she finished with a nod.

I smiled. “Well, now that that's settled, would you like to measure your lifespan next?”

Rarity chewed her lip. “Oh, I don't know. I've been dreading this moment, but I suppose I should do it if I'm going to undergo this life infusion treatment.” She stood, straightening her posture. “Very well.” Rarity took the meter from my magic and held the dial to her coat. The needle crept to 103.

My friend smiled. “It must be all those rejuvenating visits to the spa! I always did say it works wonders.” She held out the meter. “Maud? What about you?”

“Sure, why not?” said Maud with a shrug.

When Maud touched the dial to her foreleg, the needle moved to 658. “That's about what I expected,” she said. “And just for kicks, I'll show you what happens when I measure Boulder.” She touched the dial to the rock, and the needle shot over to 3000 – the highest number on the meter. “This gauge wasn't made for rocks. You'd need a bigger and even more rare meter for that, and I didn't think you would need that, yet.”

“No, this is fine for now, although I hope to eventually get ponies and other creatures above 3000,” I said.

Maud stared unblinking at me – I detected the barest flicker of emotion, but I couldn't quite identify it. Fear, perhaps?

“Would you now,” she said, piercing me with her eyes.

“Of course! I want everypony to stay healthy for as long as possible, and never have to say goodbye to their loved ones. That's the true purpose of my life infusion project.”

“Really. And have you considered the long term consequences of making everycreature immortal?” asked Maud.

“Yes, of course I have.” I paused for a moment before admitting, “I mean, I've thought about it a little. But Princess Celestia and Luna are on board with this.”

“They are? Aren't they worried about overpopulation causing famine?”

I shook my head. “No, and Applejack doesn't think that will be a problem either. She says that ponies can make the growing seasons last as long as they need, and that crops produce more food and are more resistant to drought, disease, and pests than they used to be. And with magic, we can keep the food we do have from ever spoiling.”

“I see. But there's another problem to overcome. Have you considered how much energy it will take to keep everycreature alive in perpetuity? And do you know where this energy will come from?”

“The earth,” I replied.

“Yes, the earth has an incredible amount of energy in its core, but it is finite. The geological experts have estimated that it will last for millions of years, but eventually it will run out. And when that happens, earth ponies would have very little life force left to work with. We would age much faster. The core also generates a magnetic field around the planet, which we are just beginning to understand. One theory is that the magnetic field protects the atmosphere from solar wind, and that without it, the solar wind would tear away the upper part of the atmosphere. This would have a disastrous impact on climate control and life on Equus as we know it.”

Spike raised his hand. “And compasses wouldn't work.”

“Yes, Spike, compasses wouldn't work,” I said, struggling not to sound patronizing.

“But Maud, you said that won't happen for millions of years. Surely the intelligent creatures of the world will have plenty of time to figure out a way to prevent that from happening,” said Rarity with a frown.

“Perhaps,” said Maud. “But a sudden increase of life infusion could make the core unstable and hasten its demise.”

“You talk about the core like it's alive,” said Spike, tilting his head back.

“It is as alive as you and I – more alive, because it contains far more life force. It is made of molten iron that constantly swirls and generates energy,” said Maud.

“Further study will be required,” I told her. “I certainly don't want to destabilize the planet's core. But it's not like I'm tapping directly into it.” I lightly knocked my hoof on the floor. “I thought only Pinkie could do that.”

“Even drawing life force from the crust uses indirect life force from the core,” explained Maud. “If life force is taken from the crust, more life force from the core will rise to take its place.”

“Oh.” I realized that I should be taking notes again and picked up my notebook and quill in my magic.

“I still think there has to be a way to take enough energy from the earth to make everycreature immortal – or close enough to it – without causing irreparable harm to the earth's core,” I told Maud while scribbling a distracted paraphrasing of Maud's lecture.

“You'll magically find a way,” she deadpanned. “You can solve any problem with magic.”

Spike scratched the back of his head. “Was that sarcasm?”

“No.” She paused. “That was sarcasm. I mean, yes.”

“Well, Maud, I understand your concerns, but for now I'd just like to measure the rest of my friends' lifespans. Let's go see Fluttershy.” I pointed to the longevity gauge in her hoof. “May I?”

“Sure. It's fine. This is fine.”

Author's Note

The original draft had Apple Bloom showing how to use the life force and life expectancy meters, but then I decided it would streamline the story to have Maud arrive earlier and fill this role instead.

I may prefer reading Rarijack, but there's something about writing Appledash that just clicks with me. Maybe it's because I see potential in their relationship, but it tends to go awry whenever they share episodes, at least in the last few seasons, so I end up wanting to write my ideal version of Appledash.

The Best Party Favor Ever

Sugar Cube Corner – That same afternoon

Low murmurs greeted Applejack and Rainbow Dash when they entered the bakery, accompanied by stares directed at the new alicorn.

“Hello, you two!” Mr. Cake waved at them from behind the counter. “Congratulations on becoming an alicorn, Applejack.”

“Thank you kindly, Mr. Cake.” AJ tipped her hat.

“We were hoping to talk to Pinkie.” Rainbow flew over to the counter. “Is she around?”

“I think she's in her secret party planning cave that's not really a secret anymore,” said the baker. “I'll go check real quick.”

“It's alright, we can go check ourselves,” said Dash, “if that's okay with you.” Planting her hoof on her forehead, she added, “Pony, I think Fluttershy's rubbing off on me.”

Mr. Cake laughed. “It's considerate of you to ask, but you girls are more than welcome to go back and look for Pinkie. Just be quiet – the twins are taking a nap.”

Nodding in gratitude, the two mares walked past the counter and through the back door toward the living quarters. The smell of vanilla and cinnamon grew fainter, and notes of wood and latex became stronger as they climbed the staircase toward Pinkie's bedroom.

“There's gotta be more direct way to go from the ground floor to the basement,” commented Applejack as they reached the landing at the top of the staircase.

Rainbow shrugged, making a little humming sound. “It's Pinkie Pie,” she said simply.

Applejack knocked lightly on the door and listened for a reply. There was only silence.

“I'm sure she's in her party planning cave,” said Rainbow. “Let's go.”

She opened the door and trotted inside, Applejack following her and stopping in the center of the room. Dash continued on toward the large ice cream cone and pressed the top, causing it to collapse. AJ slid down into the trap door, and Rainbow darted over and slipped down after her, tucking all six of her limbs into her body to reduce drag and pick up speed.

Applejack landed on her feet, stumbling forward just a couple of steps, and Rainbow went down behind her, spreading her wings and lifting into the air to avoid hitting her friend.

The most fitting description of Pinkie's secret party planning cave was organized chaos. Shelves lined one wall, each section holding different party supplies. The 'chaos' part of the picture came into play with stalactites made out of cotton candy and chocolate cupcakes the size of easy chairs stacked between the shelves and the filing cabinets. Applejack started to wonder what Pinkie would even do with cupcakes that size, but that way lay madness.

Currently, Pinkie was sitting on the floor with an array of deflated balloons, rolls of streamers, bags of confetti, and other sundry party decorations spread around her. She looked up at her two friends with a dazzling grin.

“Hi Applejack! Hi Rainbow Dash! So, I'm thinking of using red, orange, yellow, and green for the the decorations. Do you think that would be too . . . What's the word? Autumnal for this time of year?” Her expression became serious as she rubbed her chin. “I could throw in some pink, or maybe a lighter shade of green.”

“I like green,” said AJ. “But we came to talk to you about somethin' else.”

“Yeah, Pinkie, what do you have against becoming an alicorn princess?” Rainbow stepped in front of Applejack. “What do I have to say to talk you into it like I did with AJ?”

“Whoa there, partner.” Applejack put her hoof on Dash's back. “I never said I was okay with becomin' a princess.”

“What?” Rainbow glanced over her shoulder at her. “You sure didn't say you weren't okay with it, the way you were hugging me. I kind of assumed you had embraced being a princess, too.”

“I was embracin' you bein' supportive, but you're gonna have to try a bit harder to convince me to become royalty.”

Dash dragged her hoof over her face.

“Aw, don't feel bad, Dashie!” Pinkie smiled. “It's like I told you the other day, I just don't want other ponies to feel like I'm too good for them, or that I think I'm too good for them.”

“Literally nopony will think that about you!” Rainbow thrust her foreleg at the party planner. “You're Pinkie Pie, friend to all ponies – no, to all speaking creatures! Everyone knew you when you were just an earth pony party planner, and they'll always remember that that's who you really are.” Her eyes lit up as her speech gained momentum. “Just like everyone remembers Applejack for being just an earth pony farmer, and they remember Twilight as just an egghead – I mean, a unicorn scholar!”

“That's a good point, but I want to wait until more of our friends ascend before I do. That way, becoming an alicorn will actually make me fit in! If I did it now, I'd still stand out!”

Rainbow raised her eyebrow – her eyebrow-raising skills had a long way to go before they reached Applejack's level. “When have you ever worried about standing out?”

“Lots of times!” Pinkie held up her hoof. “Our Town, all the times we went to the Crystal Empire, and . . .” She shook her head. “There are plenty of times where it's better to blend in, all right?”

“So wear a hood to cover your horn if you wanna blend in.”

Pinkie shook her head. “I guess . . . It's hard to explain, but in order to ascend, I'm pretty sure I'd have to teleport back to the Thaumic Plane, and that place is scary! And not in a fun way.” She turned to face the new alicorn. “You know what it's like, Applejack. You can't feel the earth or the air, but somehow you can still stand and breath, and there's nothing but pure magic pressing in on you!”

AJ nodded, looking from Pinkie to Rainbow. “Everythin' you said is true, but it's not as scary if you have a friend there with you.” Placing her hoof on Pinkie's shoulder, she added, “Dash is right – you shouldn't let fear hold you back, if that's the only thing.”

Pinkie drew in a deep breath. “Yeah, you two are right. Maybe I'll become an alicorn sooner than I thought. But I'm still not ready to be a princess. Let's face it, my leadership skills are the worst out of our group of friends, and that includes Spike.”

Dash pursed her lips. “Maybe in some ways, but don't sell yourself short too much. You're still the best party planner in Equestria, and that takes some organizational skills. I know you've hired freelance workers and given them instructions. Heck, you got Princess Celestia's attention when she had the Summer Sun Celebration in Ponyville!”

Applejack shook her head at her. “Uh-uh,” she murmured.

“No?” Dash scratched her head. “But I talked with Celestia when she came early to make preparations. She told me she had a special job for Pinkie, but she wouldn't tell me what it was.”

“She did?” Applejack's eyes widened.

“Yeah she did!” Pinkie beamed. “She told me to plan a 'welcome to Ponyville' party for Twilight!”

“Ohhh. Princess Celestia told you to do that?”

“Yepperooni!” Pinkie nodded, her forelock bobbing.

AJ lifted her foreleg. “Don't you already do that for everypony?”

“Well, yeah, but usually not the day they arrive! And I don't have time to throw 'welcome to Ponyville' parties individually anymore – now it's a weekly group party.”

Smiling, Applejack said, “I guess Princess Celestia has a mischievous streak.”

“The point is,” Dash said firmly, “that Princess Celestia trusted you to plan the perfect surprise party for Twilight. And you can be trusted with more responsibility as you gain more experience.” She put her hoof on Pinkie's shoulder. “You can do this, Pinkie.”

Pinkie's blue eyes shone, this time with a layer of unshed tears. “Thank you, Dashie. If you believe in me, how can I not believe in myself?” She pulled her friend into a hug, which Rainbow returned.

“Yep, I still got it,” muttered Dash.

“I'm still going to wait until after AJ's not-a-coronation party to ascend.” Pinkie withdrew and turned toward her other friend. “I wouldn't want to steal the spotlight on your special day.”

“Oh, uh, about that. Have you seen the invitations?” asked Applejack.

“Of course, silly!” replied Pinkie, bobbing her head. “I wrote them!”

“I mean, after the copies were printed and, uh, glittered?”

“Yeah, I had to see them to put them in the envelopes.” Pinkie shrugged.

Applejack leaned toward her. “Did you get a good look at 'em?”

“I guess not. What was I supposed to look for?” Pinkie tilted her head.

“The 'not' in 'not-a-coronation' got covered in glitter, and so did the 'non' in 'non-princesses,'” explained Rainbow.

“We don't know if all of 'em are like that, but the two that we saw were,” added Applejack.

“So everypony might think it is a coronation party. Oh, that is a pickle.” Pinkie tapped her chin. “But I'm an expert party planner – I can make this work without you having to get coronated before you're ready!”

“I don't think that's a word,” muttered Dash.

Pinkie ignored her. “What if I hang up a huge banner in front of the castle that says 'Not-a-coronation Party'? That way ponies will get at least a little bit of warning about what to expect from the party! I could make an announcement at the beginning, too, for those who can't read or who don't pay attention to signs.”

“I reckon that could work,” Applejack nodded. “Good idea, Pinkie.”

Rainbow beamed. “See, that's the kind of initiative I was talking about!”

Pinkie waved her foreleg. “Aw, shucks.” Then her eyes widened as she remembered something. “Oh! Did I tell you Maud is in town? She stopped by here about an hour ago.”

“Yeah, Twilight told us she's coming to help with the life infusion project,” said Rainbow. “She's bringing some meters from her school. I should go back there and help research more. Are you two coming with?”

Applejack nodded. “I was fixin' to head over there soon anyway.”

“I got a lot of party planning and baking done this morning, so I can take a little time to go with you.” Pinkie pronged over to the slide and sprang onto it. “Come on!” And she slid up the slide.

Rainbow smirked at Applejack. “Yeah, come on, AJ! You're an alicorn – you can do anything Pinkie can do!” She pointed at the slide.

“Discord's the only other creature who can do that!” Applejack said with conviction.

Dash sighed. “I hate to admit it, but even I would have trouble flying up that shaft – it's too dark and narrow. We'll just have to walk up. Help me find something sticky.”

“That shouldn't be too hard in this house.”

Castle of Friendship

I was quiet as I walked down the hallway toward the room that had been designated for sorting paperwork. The only sounds that accompanied my thoughts were hooves and claws clacking against the hard floor. It angered me that tribalism still persisted to this day. The tribes might not resent each other the way they used to, but there were still ponies who self-segregated and seemed to believe themselves superior to the other tribes.

Before the royal sisters took over the the cycle of the sun and moon, unicorns took great pride in this task. Unicorn mages were viewed as noble martyrs for sacrificing their magic to bring day and night to all the other creatures. Currently, it seemed like the earth pony scholars – or more accurately, earth pony mages – were making the same mistake. The difference was that unicorns lorded their martyrdom over the other tribes, and even the lower class unicorns were looked down on for 'wasting' their magic on nonessential things such as alchemy and illusory spells. But the earth pony mages were hiding their knowledge – why? Were they afraid of what other ponies would do with this information? Were they, like Maud, concerned about the far-reaching consequences of allowing every earth pony to achieve immortality?

“Twilight?” Spike spoke up. “You sure you're okay?”

“There's Fluttershy,” I said. It wasn't an answer to his question, but it was true. Our pegasus friend stepped out of the room that had been designated for paperwork, squirrels scampering before and after her. Fluttershy's eyes focused on the longevity gauge floating in front of me.

“Did Maud show you how to use the readers?” she asked.

“No, I just gave it to her to hold without telling her what to do,” deadpanned Maud.

Fluttershy's face visibly closed off, her mouth forming a tight, straight line.

“That was sarcasm, by the way,” added Maud.

“Um, I was just making conversation.”

One of the squirrels ran up to Maud with his paws spread wide and scolded her with a loud, “Quah-quah, quaaah!”

Maud stared at him. “I've always been better with minerals than tree rats. What's he saying?”

“First of all,” said Fluttershy in an uncharacteristically curt tone, “tree rats are a different species of rodent native to Hosstrailia. But I assume you're using the unflattering slang for squirrels, and I'll thank you not to say that in front of Arven.” Fluttershy pointed to Arven, whose scolding grew more insistent. “And second of all, I can't repeat what Arven is saying in front of Spike.”

“How old do you think I am?” asked Spike.

I loudly cleared my throat. “I'm sorry, but we're getting way off topic. Maud's sorry for offending Arven. Right, Maud?”

“Sure,” said Maud. She didn't exactly sound sincere, but it was always hard to tell with her.

“Anyway, Fluttershy, I'd like to measure your potential lifespan.” I held the instrument closer to her.

Fluttershy's expression relaxed, her wings settling against her flanks. “Of course. Anything for your studies.”

I touched the dial to my friend's foreleg, and the reading showed 227.

“I wish we knew what your lifespan was before the infusion,” commented Rarity.

“Yes, that would be helpful,” agreed Fluttershy. “But I'm sure it couldn't have been much more than a hundred.” She shook her head, letting her forelock fall in front of her face.

“I didn't know earth ponies could add that many years at once,” said Spike.

My quill wiggled as I jotted down each pony's reading. “Well, neither of us even knew earth ponies could magically add years to another pony's life until a few days ago,” I pointed out. “Still, that does seem high.”

“Applejack gave all of her life force to Fluttershy. I wouldn't be surprised if she more than doubled it,” said Rarity.

“That's true. She could have ended up like Granny Smith, or worse!” added Fluttershy with a wince.

“But now we have these meters,” I said, holding aloft the longevity gauge and the vitameter, “to prevent something like that from happening again!”

“I understand you and Applejack were able to infuse your life force into other ponies by using some sort of containment field, is this correct?” asked Maud, blinking at me.

“If by containment field you mean glass tank, then yes,” Spike said in a dry tone.

“Okay,” she said simply. “May I see it?”

“Of course. It's in the throne room. Follow me!” I said, trotting down the hallway.

Just outside Sugar Cube Corner

Rainbow pressed her front hooves together and pulled them apart, feeling the tacky residue left from the double-sided tape she'd used to climb up the slide. “You don't have any hoof sanitizer on you, do you?” It was a faint hope, but she had to ask just to be certain.

Applejack dug her hooves into the dirt road. “Nope. Rub some dirt on it, that's what my pa used to say when we went campin'.”

Dash smirked. “I am so telling Rarity you said that.”

“I don't care – I'll say it to her face.”

Still smirking, Rainbow felt the air currents whisper to her, gently guiding her toward the castle. She sucked in a deep breath.

“AJ,” she announced. “I think now is the perfect time for another flying lesson.”

“Oh, well now, I don't think it would be fair to Pinkie to . . .” Applejack trailed off as Pinkie slowly propelled herself past them, her hooves detached from the ground and her mane spinning like a rotor.

Dash's smirk grew even more pronounced. “You were saying?”

“This works only when it's funny,” said Pinkie with a face-splitting grin. “Lucky for me, it's hilarious right now!”

Castle of Friendship

“Excuse the clutter,” I said to Maud. “We're preparing Thauma Houses to give to the earth pony guests at the party.” Most of them were Apple family members, from what I'd gathered from Applejack.

“Some assembly required,” added Spike, waving his claws at the glass panels leaning against the walls – enough for two dozen rectangular prisms.

“Everypony else will get the treatment,” I said. “Pinkie and Applejack are calling it the best party favor ever!” I finished, not without pride.

Maud's face was as impassive as ever as she walked up to the original glass tank, but it was easy to guess that she was truly unimpressed.

“This is the structure that was used to infuse life force into another pony?” she asked, running her hoof down the smooth surface.

“It does need some etching, or perhaps some stained glass on some of the sides,” commented Rarity.

“We added a safety release on the inside,” Fluttershy spoke up, pointing her foreleg at the metal lever. “That's the important thing.”

“It's airtight,” said Maud. “Completely sterile and inorganic.”

“So when an earth pony pushes out her life force, it has nowhere to go but into the other pony in the enclosure,” I explained.

Maud gave a little nod of understanding. “Of course, both ponies would have to be clean and free of organic debris as well.”

“Exactly.” I placed my hoof on the glass. “With the Thauma House, the vitameter, and the longevity gauge, ponies will finally have total control over the flow of life force.”

“And then it's just one small step toward immortality!” Spike pumped his fist.

Since even the legendary Chancellor Puddinghead hadn't made it to her two thousandth birthday, immortality seemed like a stretch. Still, for all I knew, the gauges hadn't been invented in her time. Maybe if she had had them, she would still be with us.

“And you're planning on giving these Thauma Houses to earth ponies around the country?” asked Maud.

“That's right. At first I was just going to open up a treatment center here at the castle, but I quickly realized that it would be insufficient to meet the demand, as Fluttershy can attest.” I nodded toward my pegasus friend. “The Thauma House and the procedure are so simple that it makes more sense to distribute the tools to earth ponies across Equestria.”

“You said it's dangerous,” noted Maud.

“That's why we're testing it,” I said.

Then our ears swiveled as we heard the flapping of multiple pairs of wings.

Rarity pursed her lips and looked up. “That had better be Rainbow Dash.”

“What's up, everypony?” asked Rainbow as she soared into the throne room. “I brought the rest of the gang!”

Spike tilted his head. “Where are they?”

Dash glanced back over her shoulder and yelled, “Yo, Pinks! AJ! Hurry up!”

Pinkie buzzed into the room via her mane and landed on the floor. “Ta-da! No wings required!” She massaged her scalp. “But now I have a headache.”

“I'm almost afraid to ask, but . . . why do you have a headache?” I raised an eyebrow at her.

“You know how when you wear a ponytail too tight, it hurts your scalp? Well it kind of feels like that if you use capillurgy too long. Or at least when I do.”

I added that bit of information to my mental list of limitations to Pinkie Pie's powers.

Maud actually smiled at the sight of her sister, who returned the smile tenfold.

“Applejack,” yelled Rainbow, still staring at the hallway, “I told you to let go of that rope!”

“I'll crash!” Applejack's voice was muffled by something held in her mouth – a rope, based on the context of the conversation.

“No you won't! You'll use your wings to slow yourself like you did when you were cantering on the ground!”

“Sure, it's just like canterin' in three dimensions! No biggie.” Applejack came flapping ungainly into the chamber, pulling a rope that was lassoed around a pony-sized cloud. The rope was slanted downward at a shallow angle, and she looked like she should reach ground level any moment. However, Fluttershy took pity on her and flew up to meet her, taking hold of her front hooves.

“You sure you can hold me?” asked AJ.

“I'm sure the two of us together can hold you,” replied Fluttershy with a reassuring smile.

Applejack released the rope, and the two of them flapped down to the floor.

“You were only five feet above the ground,” Maud pointed out, lifting her foreleg.

“Maud's got a point.” Rainbow crossed her forelegs. “Besides, Applejack's never gonna learn unless she does it herself.”

“Yes, if there's one thing Applejack has a problem with, it's doing things herself,” Rarity said sarcastically.

“Speaking of doing things yourself, do you know how you lassoed the cloud, Applejack?” I spoke up, pointing to the rope that hung slack from the cloud.

AJ's eyes slid over to the lasso before meeting mine. “Uh, desperation?” she guessed, clearly uncertain herself.

“She was actually doing okay until we were about to land in front of the castle,” explained Rainbow. “Then she descended fast and at a steep angle and she seemed like she was losing control, and then she reaches under her hat and pulls the rope out and loops it around the cloud.” She switched tenses as she appeared to relive the moment. “The cloud slowed her descent, but it didn't stop her because her pegasus magic moved it. And here we are,” she finished, waving her forelegs.

“So, Applejack,” I said, slipping into teacher mode – lecture mode might have been a less charitable, but not inaccurate term. “You infused your lasso with your pegasus magic when you picked it up with your hooves. It took me five tries to infuse my pegasus magic into my saddlebags, but you did it intuitively.” I felt equally proud of her and disappointed in myself.

“I s'pose it's because my first instinct when I'm fallin' from someplace high is to catch myself with my lasso,” said Applejack, rubbing the back of her head. “It's different for you.”

“That's true,” I said. “Like you said, you were desperate. Desperation can make you perform magic you never knew you could.”

“I did feel somethin' go out of my hooves.” AJ raised her hoof as if she half expected to see the magic within. “But I was too terrified to pay much attention.”

“I thought pegasi used their wings for magic.” Spike scratched his head.

“Common misconception. We do use magic with our wings, but we use almost as much magic with our hooves,” said Dash, raising both forelegs. “It's how we move clouds and break them up.”

“Ohhh,” said Spike, nodding in understanding.

“So, Rares,” she said, turning to our unicorn friend, “did you find any spells we could use?”

Rarity straightened her posture. “Actually, I discovered something intriguing in the Foalish Manuscript.”

I dug my hoof in my ear in a vain attempt to clean it out. “I'm sorry, it sounded like you said the Foalish Manuscript, but that can't be right.”

“Oh, yes, you heard correctly. Of course I couldn't read the language, but the pictures gave me an idea.” She turned to stare at me. “I was hoping you could tell me what it says so I could have a better idea of what I'm working with.”

I shook my head. “I can't tell you what it says. Nopony can. It's written in a language nopony has seen anywhere else. Hundreds of scholars have tried to decode it, but nopony has ever cracked it. That's why it's called the Foalish Manuscript, because it looks like gibberish. Nopony even knows its real title!”

“Oh.” Rarity's ears drooped for a moment, but then she drew a deep breath. “Well, one of the illustrations inspired me. It showed a pony sleeping, and they had a silvery copy of themselves floating above them, connected by a thin line.”

“That sounds like astral projection,” Fluttershy spoke up. “Treehugger told me about it.”

Rarity's face fell once more. “You mean it's already been done?”

Fluttershy tapped her chin. “I'm not sure. Treehugger just said that she tried to do it, but she couldn't make her consciousness leave her body no matter how much she meditated and how many crystals she collected.”

“Crystals . . .” Rarity lowered her eyebrows in determination. “Perhaps Treehugger's crystals simply weren't powerful enough. Maud said that this castle is a giant crystal.”

“More or less,” said Maud.

“And the Cutie Map is part of the castle . . .”

“Rarity!” I snapped.

Everyone stared at me, and Rarity flinched as if I had physically struck her.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell,” I said, lowering my head. “But what has gotten into you lately, Rarity? First you want to use a time spell, and now you want to use the Map to boost your magic? Did you learn nothing from Starlight Glimmer's mistakes?”

“Who's Starlight Glimmer?” asked Maud.

“You remember the pony I wrote to you about who founded an anti-cutie mark cult and then traveled back in time and almost doomed us all several times over just so she could prevent us from becoming friends?” asked Pinkie before pausing for air.

“Oh. Yes, I remember. You didn't mention her using the Cutie Map.”

“To be fair,” said Spike, raising a claw, “she did realize how wrong she was when Twilight brought her to one of the nightmarish alternate timelines she created.”

I cleared my throat and glanced at him, as it occurred to me that it probably was not the best idea to tell Maud about doomsday scenarios when she was already envisioning one brought about by life infusion.

“What made it nightmarish?” Maud's question could have been taken two different ways.

“Everything was a barren wasteland as far as we could see,” Spike answered promptly. “We never found out what led up to it.”

Maud blinked down at him. “I have a guess.”

There was a pause. “What's your guess?” asked Pinkie.

“Oh, Maud thinks that using too much life infusion will eventually drain the planet's core and destroy life as we know it.” Rarity pawed the floor. “But even if that did happen, it wouldn't be for millions of years. Twilight and Spike went to an alternate version of the present, from what I understand.”

“Is that meant to be reassuring? Because, it isn't,” Maud said bluntly.

“We don't know what happened in that timeline. There was no sign of life, but that doesn't mean that all life on Equus was destroyed. I only saw one part of it.” I was trying to convince myself as much as Maud. “And even if all life was destroyed, we have know way of knowing if life infusion was the cause. It could have been some form of dark magic, for all we know.”

“But it could have been life infusion. Like I said, too much life infusion in a short time could disrupt the core beyond repair.”

“Maybe there's a way to read the longevity of the earth's core, just like that meter measures ponies and dragons.” Fluttershy pointed to the longevity gauge.

“That way you could stop using life infusion if you saw that you were draining too much energy from the core and making it unstable,” added Spike with a nod.

“It's not that simple. The core is so far beneath the surface that it is out of range of all instruments. Ponies and diamond dogs alike have tried to tunnel to the core, but so far no one has been able to reach it. Of course, it would kill anyone who did reach it, except for a dragon.” Maud glanced at Spike.

“What do you want us to do, Maud?” Applejack stepped toward her and removed her hat, holding it in her front hoof. “I want other creatures to have what we have – enough to risk my own life for it. But if we're really riskin' the life of the entire planet, that's not worth it.” She turned to gaze sadly at me.

I frowned. “I guess not, but there has to be a way to extend creatures' lifespans without making everypony an alicorn. I don't even know if that would work with donkeys or zebras.”

“Can't we get a second opinion?” Dash held up her foreleg. “You're smart, Maud, but you're just one pony.”

“There are plenty of smart ponies at the Manehattan College of Earth Studies,” said Maud.

I growled in frustration. “There are smart ponies at Celestia's School of Magic, too.”

“Yes, but the College of Earth Studies has seen to it that the unicorns are ignorant of how life infusion works,” replied Maud.

“They did?” Rainbow narrowed her eyes. “Why would they do that?”

“Because they're elitist jerks,” said Maud. “Don't get me started.”

“Really, don't.” Spike shook his head.

“What about Princess Celestia?” asked Applejack, pricking her ears forward. “She was okay with usin' life pulse on other creatures. Shouldn't she know if it could destroy all life?”

I sighed. “Yes, she was okay with it. But I think she knew there was at least a slim chance that Equus would be ruined. Although,” I added, tilting my head, “I think she was speaking specifically about overpopulation. But she said there are other worlds we could move to if Equus can't adapt.”

Maud was quiet for a beat, her expression as stoic as ever. “Let me see if I've got this straight. Princess Celestia wants to use up this world and move on to the next one?”

“Well, she didn't say that exactly.” Spike rubbed his crest.

Pinkie walked up to her sister, a serious expression on her face as she put her hoof on her shoulder. “It's okay, Maud. If we all put our heads together, I know we can find a way to live on this world, forever!” she finished with an encouraging smile.

“Always the optimist.” Maud put her hoof over her sister's and blinked. “Yes, magic can solve anything. I will try my best to find a way to do just what you said, Pinkie.”

Author's Note

The reveal that Celestia was the one who told Pinkie to plan a surprise party for Twilight is a reference to my fanfic Seeking Harmony. I realized that Pinkie was the only one who didn't seem to have a special assignment from Celestia in the first episode, and I didn't want her to be left out.

Arven the squirrel is a nod to Pearls of Lutra by Brian Jacques. I highly recommend his books, because they have talking animals in a classic fantasy setting – including many tree rats and other rodents.

It's Got To Be Her Destiny

Castle of Friendship – The next day

It wasn't easy being Maud. Any time she came into contact with stone, it projected images into her head that were often difficult to interpret. But Maud had been communicating with rocks for as long as she had been speaking with other ponies, and over the years, they had gradually learned to use vocabulary that they could both understand.

Most minerals had a tenuous grasp on the things organisms did and said, but the castle was an exception. It was highly attentive to the actions of the creatures not just within its structure, but far beyond its walls, outside even the borders of Equestria. When Rarity had brought up the subject of the Cutie Map, the castle had sent Maud a picture of Twilight standing next to a lilac unicorn with a cutie mark of a purple star with an aqua wave over it. The two ponies' horns sent forth intertwined magic that aggregated into a sphere, which in turn shot thauma into the six largest thrones, which then jumped into the Map.

Maud had started to ask the castle about this vision, but then Twilight had mentioned Starlight Glimmer, and then Maud had attempted to make Twilight and her companions understand how serious life infusion was, and how ponies shouldn't drain too much life force too quickly. Unfortunately, none of the others seemed to comprehend, and so Maud simply gave up trying to convince them, at least for the day. She considered bolstering her arguments by herself, with time to gather her thoughts. Perhaps she would even resort to writing to the arrogant professors at the College of Earth Studies.

Standing alone in a hallway, Maud's mind swirled with anxiety, and she remembered why she preferred the company of silicates to other ponies. She focused her attention on the gleaming crystal floor that supported her hooves.

Let's talk about what you said earlier. Did you mean that your six chairs are also a source of power? Maud inquired.

The castle showed the Map glowing and floating in mid-air. It appeared that the Map could operate independently of the thrones, and the entire castle as well, although Maud figured that its ability to detect the organisms around Equus would be severely limited while detached from the ground.

The thrones, as it turned out, merely activated the Map when it was deactivated.

Is there anything I can do to help? queried Maud.

In her mind's eye, Maud viewed herself talking with Twilight about how to fix the Map.

I will tell her what you showed me. But now I need your help. You must know by now that Twilight and my sister's friends are planning on using life infusion to make everyone live for hundreds of years.

The castle sent an image of Twilight taking Rainbow Dash's longevity reading and going inside the first Thauma House with her.

Then tell me, will it harm Equus if life infusion becomes mainstream? I need to know if we earth ponies can transfer life force to all the other creatures without harming the core.

In reply, Maud received a symbol that she understood to mean that the castle was thinking and that she should wait a moment for a response – the hourglass. Maud idly patted Boulder in her pocket, feeling his spiky crystals. Just as she was contemplating moving him to her saddlebag, the hourglass went away and castle projected a picture of the Map, with luminous landmarks rising from its surface. She watched herself walk around the Map and draw a circle with chalk, and then write runes around the edge of the circle.

I don't understand the purpose of this ritual.

The castle showed her climbing onto the Map and straddling Canterlot and Apple-oosa. Her mane and tail began to billow with excess energy.

You want me to use your life force? But you can't have more life force than the core.

As Maud watched the sequence of images, she understood. The castle was only a network that connected to all sapient life on Equus. The castle didn't want her to use much of its own life force, only enough to allow her to do what she needed to do.

What she saw next troubled her.

I don't know if I can do that. I can't make that kind of choice.

There was a bombardment of moving pictures. Twilight using life infusion. Twilight and Applejack growing to the size of Princess Celestia in mere minutes. Pinkie and her other friends becoming alicorns and reaching the same height. The sun scorching the land during the day. Plants dying, ponies becoming sick and gaunt.

Maud's mouth went dry, and a heavy weight settled in her stomach. She knew what she had to do.

Castle of Friendship – Twilight's study

Dear Princess Celestia,

You'll be happy to know that our life infusion treatments have produced consistent results. We installed safety release levers inside all of our Thauma House models, and thanks to the instruments Maud borrowed from her school, we are recording accurate readings of the amount of life force going into each pony, and the number of years added and subtracted for each transfer.

Pausing, I chewed on the end of my quill. It was a bit of a lie to say that Maud had borrowed the meters, since we had no intention of giving them back any time soon.

By the way, if you happen to know where we could purchase a longevity gauge and a vitameter, it would be most helpful.

I've been speaking with Maud about the life infusion project, and she shared some concerns about the long term effects on the planet's core that I thought I should bring to your attention. She told me that if there is a sharp increase in the life force taken from the earth over a long period of time, it could destabilize the molten iron core, which could then collapse the magnetic field around the planet. This was not a subject that I had heard much about until recently, but I found a book on the internal structure of Equus, and most of the information she told me checks out. I say most because I still can't find any written information about life infusion at all, much less how it impacts the core. Should I be more cautious about proceeding with the life infusion project? Is there a way to monitor the core to see if it's being harmed in any way? Is there another source of life force that could be used as a substitute for the planet? What about the moon, or asteroids? Please advise.

I started signing the letter as “Your faithful student” before catching myself. Celestia had made it clear that I had graduated from being her student, but I remained in an awkward stage where I wasn't sure exactly where I stood with her. I bit my lip before writing,

Kind regards,

Princess Twilight Sparkle

Well, it would have to do. Anyway, I had more important things to worry about than signing off on a letter to Celestia.

“Spike?” I asked.

“Are you done?” He waddled over to me. Nodding, I rolled up the letter and held it toward him in my aura, and he blew on it with his message fire.

I must have looked uneasy, because Spike said, “Don't worry, Twilight. I'm sure Princess Celestia will know what to do. Maud's probably worried over nothing.”

I breathed deeply the way Cadence had taught me. “I'm sure you're right. Princess Celestia will know what to do. I'll just wait for her reply.”

“I'm sure she's still reading the letter.” Spike walked back to the graph he had been making, and then glanced at me over his shoulder. “Hey, do you think that if she did go to one of those other worlds she talked about, my message fire would send your letter to her?”

“I don't know,” I said, furrowing my brow. “I've never thought about it before. I guess we'll find out.” I stepped closer to Spike's bar graph. He'd written each name and meticulously drawn three bars for each individual – one for the years added to the receiver's lifespan, one for the years subtracted from the giver's lifespan, and one for the amount of energy used.

“Dad would be proud of this graph,” I told him.

Spike blushed. “Thanks. I don't know how much this will help you, but I noticed that with some ponies it takes a lot more vitas to add the same number of years to a pony's lifespan. And a lot of times when that happens, the giver loses more years than the receiver gains.”

“I'm not surprised,” I said with a nod. “There's loss with any energy conversion, and there are multiple variables involved with life infusion. We just have to figure out how to make it more efficient.” Tapping my hoof to my chin, I added, “Now, let's look at all the ponies who had the greatest energy loss.” I lifted a marker in my magic and pointed to each name. “What do they have in common?”

Spike angled himself closer to the graph. “It looks to me like they're all older ponies.”

“That's right,” I said with a smile. “Haymaker, Foggy Fleece, Inkwell . . . They're all over the age of seventy, but look at their life expectancy numbers before the infusion – they're among the lowest.” I lightly rapped my marker against the giant pad of paper.

“It makes sense that it would be better to start with younger ponies,” said Spike. “But how can we help the ponies who are older? Do you just want to eat the extra energy?”

I hummed in thought. “Well, there's still so little written about life infusion that we have to rely on trial and error. But I did notice that infusing life into other ponies seemed to go more easily after I gained life force from the castle. Then again, maybe it just gets easier with practice and drawing life force from the castle had nothing to do with it.”

“So maybe it will get more efficient the more you do it.” Spike grinned.

“I hope so.” I rubbed my jaw. “But if it doesn't get more efficient over time, I could try drawing life force from the castle right before I infuse life force into the older ponies.”

“Are these all the ponies you've used life infusion on?” Maud was suddenly right behind me, without any warning.

I jerked in surprise, my wings flaring instinctively.

Spike jumped as well. “How do you keep sneaking up on ponies?”

“It's a gift,” she deadpanned.

Drawing in a deep breath, I steadied my nerves. “To answer your question, Maud, these are all of the ponies who have received life force since yesterday.”

“We had ten yesterday afternoon, and twelve today so far!” Spike beamed. “We think we can get more in if the ponies can get clean more quickly before they go inside the Thauma House.”

“You don't waste any time,” said Maud.

“Well, Applejack used life infusion on some of the ponies,” I said. “It goes faster when one of us can recharge while the other infuses her life force.” Then my eyes widened in realization. “That's it! We just need to look up which of these ponies Applejack treated and compare the amount of energy loss to the ones I treated.” I levitated the participant charts and started skimming them.

“There is always some loss with any transfer,” said Maud. “But Applejack is an alicorn who has experience using life infusion, so that will minimize the loss.”

“That's good to hear,” I told her. “I want to help as many ponies as possible.”

“Speaking of helping,” said Maud, lifting her foreleg, “I spoke with the castle today, and it told me how to fix the Cutie Map.”

I stopped shuffling through my charts to stare at her. “The castle is self-diagnosing?”

“More or less,” said Maud. “But it needs your help to repair it.”

Castle of Friendship – Filing office

“You got yourself a real office set up here, sugar cube,” said Applejack as she helped her pegasus friend unbox the new copying device – for papers, not for clones that may or may not have been sapient individuals.

“Yes, it's starting to feel really professional,” said Fluttershy, while a squirrel climbed up her leg, not noticing the irony. “It's funny, I never would have imagined having an office job, but it's kind of nice, at least for a little while. And Arven likes it, too.” She curled her contour feathers around Arven and used her wing to hold him against her cheek. Applejack leaned toward her, curious. “How do y'all do that feather finger thing?”

“Oh, it's easy once you get the hang of it,” said Fluttershy. “Didn't Rainbow show you yet?”

“Nah, she just wants to teach me how to fly.” Applejack shook her head. “Says I gotta learn that first before I can do any other pegasus stuff.”

“Well, that's usually how it goes, but it's not true for every pegasus. Flight was the last magic I earned to do, besides the Stare,” added Fluttershy, using her wing to lower Arven to the floor.

“Alright, so how do you do it?”

“You already know how to use capillurgy. Feathers are just like more complicated hair.” Fluttershy fluffed the feathers on her wings as if to demonstrate.

AJ laughed.

“It's true!” said Fluttershy with a smile – it did sound funny when she put it that way. “Feathers and hair are both made of keratin, and they both grow out of our skin, and they both, well, shed, although molting is more regular.”

Applejack's face fell a little. “Aw, I didn't even think about moltin'.”

“It's not that bad,” insisted Fluttershy. “It's only every six moons, and not all of our flight feathers fall out at the same time, so we can still fly. You'll need to sweep and vacuum a lot more often for a few weeks, though.”

“Vacuum?” Applejack tilted her head.

Fluttershy stepped closer to her and said in a confidential tone, “Ask Pinkie if you can borrow her vacuum cleaner. Trust me.”

Applejack blinked. “Okay. That doesn't sound so bad. So, you were sayin' about feather fingers?”

“Right, well, the point is that since feathers are so similar to hair, they respond to your magic the same way. All you have to do is channel your magic through your feathers instead of your mane and tail.”

Stretching out one wing, Applejack felt for her magic. It was stored in her hooves, and she tried to send it up through her wings, but it wouldn't go past her shoulders. She frowned. This wasn't right. AJ didn't use “sticky hair” as often as Pinkie did, but she frequently used it to fasten her hat to her hair to keep it from falling off her head.

It was best to start over with what she knew. She swished her mane without moving her head. Fluttershy stared patiently as Applejack directed her magic from her mane out to her feathers. Applejack's eyes widened as the sensation of her wings reached her brain. She sensed every shaft, vein, and barbule in each feather. Surely they would respond to her command. Slowly, she bent down her first flight feather.

“You're doing it!” said Fluttershy with a grin.

Smiling, Applejack curved her primary feathers one by one, until she formed a loose fist with her wing.

“Try grabbing this paper.” Fluttershy picked up a sheet of paper in her wing and held it toward AJ. The new alicorn uncurled her feathers and bent them around the page, but it slipped through her feathers.

Fluttershy kept smiling as her eyebrows angled upward in an expression that was half amused and half sympathetic. “We'll work on that. It takes a lot of practice, but you'll get there eventually.”

“Fluttershy,” said Rarity as she poked her head into the room. “I've been wanting to speak with you about astral projection. Do you have a moment?”

Fluttershy glanced at Applejack, who gave her a slight nod.

“Go ahead, I'll just keep practicin'.” She lowered her wingtip the floor and tried in vain to pinch the sheet of paper between her feathers. Fluttershy realized that flat paper wasn't the best object to practice grabbing.

Thinking quickly, she crumpled a blank sheet of paper in her hooves and tossed it toward Applejack, who reflexively raised her wing to block it. “Here, practice with that.”

Rarity softly cleared her throat. “Fluttershy, since you're the expert on astral projection, I want to show you my idea to make it work.” Using her powder-blue aura, she held up a sketchpad.

Fluttershy faltered. “Oh, um, well, you see, I didn't mean to give the impression that I'm an expert. Everything I know I learned from Treehugger, and neither of us has ever done it before.”

“Have you ever tried?” asked Rarity, undeterred.

“Only once,” answered Fluttershy. “Treehugger showed me how to meditate with incense and crystals around our necks. We tried to become one with the cosmos.” Sitting back on her haunches, Fluttershy adopted the closest equine approximation of a lotus position. “She said that once the cosmos filled our bodies, we are free of our earthly bonds.”

“Can y'all see spirits?” Applejack asked suddenly.

Fluttershy stared at her in surprise for a second. Her friend had stopped trying to grab the paper ball and had settled for balancing it on her wing.

“When your spirit leaves your body, I mean,” clarified Applejack.

“I don't know.” Fluttershy shook her head and twisted out of her cross-legged posture with the grace of a professional dancer. “Nopony has ever had an out of body experience on purpose, as far as Treehugger knows. There are stories of near death experiences, but you can't really have those safely. The idea of astral projection is to give you control over your spirit and send it anywhere in the world – and return to your body.”

“Oh.” AJ let the paper wad drop and watched it land on the floor. “I just thought that if we are gonna live forever, maybe there was a way to see our family that's already gone.” Her ears drooped. “But I guess you can't have everythin' you want.”

“Ah,” said Rarity with a frown. “I'm sorry, darling. I'm not going to give you false hope. But I don't want you to despair, either,” she added, walking over to Applejack and resting her hoof on her friend's back. “Someday we may find a way for you to see your parents again.”

“There's one sure way, but I could never do that,” said Applejack quietly, not meeting Rarity's gaze.

“I certainly hope not!” Rarity wrapped her foreleg around Applejack. “We need you!”

“Aw, shucks, sugar cube, I ain't goin' nowhere.” She returned the half hug. “Don't you worry about me. Now, how about you show us your idea.”

Rarity drew back and positioned herself so that she could easily view both Applejack and Fluttershy. “Well, I've been doing some soul searching, and I believe I've found a way to perform new magic that will fulfill my destiny that began when I was a child!”

Both of her friends raised their eyebrows, and even the squirrels stopped what they were doing and eyed the unicorn.

“You see, when Twilight became an alicorn, it was a culmination of her experience from the moment she earned her cutie mark and entered Celestia's School of Magic. She studied hard and learned to control her magic, and she learned to rely on us for support. And she completed an unfinished spell that was written by her idol. So I think that I need to forge ahead by combining my own talents and life experience.” Rarity's eyes shone as she built her case. “I earned my cutie mark by finding a gem-encrusted rock and incorporating those gems in my costumes. Many of my current designs feature gems as well. And what are gems but a type of crystal?”

“I don't know, you'd have to ask Maud,” said AJ.

“That was a rhetorical question, darling. Anyway, I thought that perhaps my destiny is to make a suit of crystals that would enhance the wearer's magic.” Using her telekinesis, she flipped a page in her sketchpad and turned it to face her friends. “Voila!”

The pegasus and alicorn leaned closer to get a better view of the drawing. It showed a unicorn wearing a body suit spangled with crystals, each about the size of a bit. There was a separate sketch that featured a crystal mask covering even the ears and horn.

“It's beautiful,” said Fluttershy.

“Yes, thank you, darling,” Rarity said dismissively, “but do you think it will work?”

Fluttershy pursed her lips. “I think it would depend on the kind of crystals you use. Treehugger uses moonstone and . . . benitoite?” She squinted as she tried to recall. “It's a smoky blue one.”

“How do you spell benitoite?” asked Rarity, levitating a quill.

“I'm not sure.” Fluttershy flapped up to the top of a file cabinet and grabbed a book. “I have a dictionary right here.”

Applejack lifted her foreleg. “Rarity, I think you might be overthinkin' your path to destiny. When I got my wings and horn, it had nothin' to do with the way I got my cutie mark. I just wanted to help Twilight.”

Rarity stared at the ceiling in thought. “When you got your mark, you felt a sense of fulfillment being on your farm, did you not?”

“Yeah,” said AJ, wondering where her friend was going with this.

“And you learned how to use life infusion on your farm, didn't you?”

Applejack nodded.

“Well, there you are, then!” Rarity smiled in triumph. “When you returned to Sweet Apple Acres, it set you on the path toward infusing your life force into Fluttershy!”

“Seems like a bit of a stretch to me,” said Applejack, creasing her brow.

“You're right – it was a stretch. But you can't ascend to alicornhood without pushing your limits.”

“I'm not sure I follow you, sugar cube.” Applejack shook her head.

Rarity's grin broadened as she took the dictionary from Fluttershy's hooves. “You'll see where I'm going soon enough.”

Author's Note

I'm not satisfied with the way Twilight's scene just stops, but I felt like if it had gone on much longer it would have gotten repetitive as Maud told Twilight what the castle had shown her.