Golden Fields and Golden Friendship
A golden field of grain stretched before you in every direction for what felt like an endless distance.
The sun shone high in the sky, but not oppressively so. The breeze ruffled your long hair, but not annoyingly so. The orange mare snuggled comfortably at your side shifted positions slightly, but not uncomfortably so. Everything was as close to perfect as it could realistically be; it was as though, in this moment, you existed within your own little slice of paradise, entirely distanced from all the many troubles of the world, even if for just a moment.
“Beautiful, ain’t it, sugarcube?” the blonde-haired earth pony remarked, turning her head somewhat such that she could lock her gaze on yours.
“Absolutely,” you nod with a smile. “Beautiful isn’t even the half of it.”
Applejack chuckled. “What? Have Ah finally found somethin’ y’ain’t got a word for?”
“Mmmmh… I don’t know about that…” you say as you sit up, surveying everything around you as you brush bits of grain off your flannel. “I’d call this… magnificent. Illustrious. Immaculate, even.”
The orange mare simply shook her head as she sat up with you, straightening her trademark Stetson before looking out at everything herself. “Ah’d be inclined to agree! Ah’ve seen it maybe a hundred-thousand times by now, but no matter how many times I lay eyes on it all… it never fails to take my breath away.”
A brief silence fills the air for a few moments. “You know, where I’m from, there was once a myth that said when you died, you’d go to a place like this.”
“Really?” Applejack asked with a curious grin. “Tell me more!”
“Well… it came from the pantheon of Rome, if I remember correctly,” you begin to explain. “Rome was a city that, in time, grew to be one of the most powerful empires my world would ever see. They had a religion there that held that if one lived a virtuous life, when they died, they would awaken in a field of grain—and would be greeted by their best friend.”
Applejack hummed as she brushed a hoof across a lone stalk of the golden wheat, looking it over in wonderment as she took in and considered your words. “That doesn’t sound like a half-bad afterlife, to me. Only thing that could make it better is if it were apple trees instead!”
You chuckle gently nudging her with one of your elbows. “Of course you’d say that!”
“Oh c’mon! Tell me Ah’m wrong!” Applejack laughed. “Sure, these fields look awful pretty, but what in tarnation are ya’ gonna eat? The wheat stalks? Unless ya’ve got a millstone, y’ain’t got nothin’ ‘cept for a bunch of ordinary, dry, tasteless grain stalks! With apple trees, ya’d have shade if ever it got too hot, and all the food you could ever want—and it’s actually good, too!”
You open your mouth to respond, but soon close it again. The more you thought about it… she had a point. Eating nothing but grain for the rest of eternity would get pretty mind-numbing pretty quickly, even if you had your best friend with you. “Well… maybe they don’t have to eat anything in the afterlife?” you offer as you scratch the back of your neck.
“Not eating anything in the afterlife? Why, Ah almost think that’d be eternal punishment!” Applejack laughed aloud as she gave you a faux-incredulous look. How many pleasant experiences have ya’ had here that’ve involved food in some fashion? Ah’d be willin’ to wager that there’ve been quite a few!”
Yeah, she had you there. Everything from the meal you had eaten with the princesses when you had first arrived, and everyone was still trying to figure out what in the world you even were, to the meals Applejack and her family regularly invited you to come and have (well… “invited” is maybe too kind a word. “Ordered” probably fit the description better), to the meals you were able to prepare on your own in your little cottage in Ponyville—all of them had been pleasant, happy, and sometimes even jovial experiences that you fondly remembered, and always looked forward to when they almost invariably came again.
“Well… maaaybe in the afterlife, they don’t need to eat anything?” You offered up. “I mean, in theory, you can’t die anymore, right? So maybe there’s no need for a lot of the processes that sustain life?”
“Sugarcube, now you’re just graspin’ at straws,” Applejack chuckled, giving you a knowing look. “Are ya’ really tellin’ me that you only eat to survive, and that ya’ never eat anythin’ whatsoever because it’s just good?”
“Fine. You win. The Romans were idiots,” you concede with a chuckle of your own.
“Goodness me, an afterlife with no food except stalks of grain; Ah’d sooner consign myself to workin’ an office job,” the orange mare said under her breath, shaking her head.
Silence then overtook the air between you two as your eyes collectively looked out at the field once more. The breeze had picked up slightly, rustling the rows upon rows of wheat in such a fashion to make it look as though great waves of gold were formulating. Far, far off in the distance, closely knit ranks of trees also swayed in the wind, almost looking to be dancing to some unheard song.
“Ah will tell you one thing Ah liked about that myth you told me about, though,” Applejack eventually turned to face you with an honest, genuine smile. “Bein’ most anywhere with your best friend can be an enjoyable experience through ‘n’ through. Even if I had to live out a fate where there was nothin’ to eat except grain stalks, if Ah could be with my best friends… it wouldn’t be so bad, Ah reckon.”
When she had finished speaking, you felt one of her forehooves lock around your nearest arm, and her head lean against your shoulder. You happily leaned your head atop hers, being careful to mind her Stetson as you loosed a happy sigh. “Not so bad at all, no…”
Before too long, you both had shifted back to positions lying upon the ground, the golden-haired earth pony’s hooves wrapped around your upper body, your arms gently holding her against your form. As the breeze whispered its inaudible song through the air, weaving throughout the grain that had not been flattened by your snuggling, both you and your friend smiled happily, enjoying each other’s presence above all else as the sun continued its steady descent.
As Applejack nestled her head into your chest, you began to rapidly arrive at the conclusion that if this is what the Romans had in mind… they were not idiots after all.
Even if they had not given a ton of thought to the whole food thing.
Author's Note
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!
