Measure Twice Brew once

Chapters

Chapter 6: Epilogue
Chapter 1: Unequal measure
Chapter 2: Size matters
Chapter 3: I’m rubber you’re glue
Chapter 4: Walk softly and carry a big flask
Chapter 5: Sisyphean efforts

Chapter 6: Epilogue

Once again Brewberry sat there with Barksmee just behind him, watching with an attentive eye as the stallion carefully measured out 3 drops of Neighagra falls water, adding them to his final mixture. The moment the fluid changed color and became bright green, Barksmee acted and tossed a load of pepper into Brewberry’s face, making the surprised stallion sneeze and instantly shrink.

"Hey!" yelled the tiny purple haired pony. Angrily looking up at his deer mentor.

“You'll have your cure and your title but first repeat to me what you learned,” he said with a measured voice, barely able to contain his amusement of teasing his student this way.

Brewberry sighed “Measure twice brew once.”

The deer nodded approvingly and tossed another hoof full of pepper at tiny Brewberry making him shoot back to normal size. The moment he was back the stallion grabbed the flask and downed it completely, going right back to tiny size. He sighed with relief knowing he was finally free of the botched potion effect and would be back to normal size forever when this potion wore off.

“Alright young pony. I think I've taught all I have to teach you.” said Barksmee, a certain sound of pride swinging in his voice. “your education is concluded. I pronounce you as an equal to us deer in always of potioncraft. You truly earned the title of an alchemist. Never have I taught a more talented and devoted student even if you were sloppy at times your devotion to the craft always made up for it.” He reached out his hoof and Brewberry’s tiny hoof met it for a respectful shake.

Brewberry smiled “thank you Barksmee. I can't express how much I owe my life to your teachings and those of wise Zecora. I know I've been given a great opportunity and I intend to use it well. I'll go out there and I'll brew all I've learned to provide the ponies outside of everfree the wonders of your peoples potions.”

With that the stallion shot back to normal size as the potion wore off. He couldn't help but hug the old deer.

Chapter 1: Unequal measure

Author's Note

for those wondering what the main character here looks like:

Chapter 1: Unequal measure

Boiling is such a mundane task, but distilling is considered advanced and even fancy. A single drop of condensed fluid clinging to a pot’s lid carries less wonder than a colorful red fluid running down a long glass tube and into a cooling spiral. There's something mesmerizing about it. Probably movement and color, but both together create a sense of elegance that is only surpassed by said drop falling into a flask or beaker to change the color of its contents in a dazzling instant switch.

Scenes like this were why Brewberry loved potion making. Obviously his cutie mark contributed to said affection, but the white stallion with purple eyes and purple mane that flowed in ways not dissimilar to a fluid when you squinted was certain that even if it wasn't his talent, he’d still adore the process.

Flights of fancy like this usually were easily spotted. Brewberry had a tendency to stare off into the middle distance when he mused about these things. His teacher knew this and tended to pull the stallion back with a soft slap to the back of the head. More gesture of friendly mocking than violence on a student.

Brewberry jolted back to reality and fixed his eye back on his teacher, a deer named Barksmee. Barksmee was quite old, but also one of the best potion makers in all of Equestria even by deer standards. This old deer with graying fur was exactly why Brewberry had travelled here into the deer capital all the way in the heart of the Everfree Forest. Initially after he had discovered his affinity for potions he had traveled to nearby Ponyville as a colt to study under the wise Zecora, living at his aunt Berry Punch’s house until he had learned all the wise zebra could teach. On his 17th birthday, he had headed deep into the forest to seek out the undeniably best teachers of the arts of alchemy. At first the deer had been suspicious but a demonstration of his skill quickly earned him the mentorship of Barksmee.

“Eyes on the prize, Brewberry,” scolded Barksmee.

“Oh yeah right, sorry,” he said with a nervous chuckle.

He knew this was a crucial step, so he refocused on the now green fluid in the flask he had just made. He had practiced this potion a lot, one of the hardest known to both pony and deer alike. Its effect was simple but its creation incredibly complex. It was a shrinking potion and Brewberry was about to finish. He knew it was pretty important to actually nail it this time since one of the core ingredients had run out and he wasn't keen on delaying this final test by having to go and fetch more.

“Alright keep your hooves steady, sprinkle in the pulverized bittershroom, not too fast, not too slow.” instructed Barksmee from behind.

Brewberry could practically feel his mentor’s piercing green eyes as he sprinkled in the finely crushed mushroom powder. The grains of the purple powder seemed to fall painfully slowly. The fluid changed color again now to a bright pink. He carefully lifted the final and most essential ingredient from its container. A small flask of water from the Neighagra Falls. This was what he was most concerned about. This water was fairly potent and the supply he had brought with him had been reduced to only this vial over the 6 years with the deer. He knew this water was finicky, prone to flowing faster than you'd expect. A surefire way to mess up dosage. However, one fact gave him a sense of security: he had tracked how much he had used of this last vial. He knew 3 drops were needed and he knew there must be 3 drops left in the vial. So instead of the usual slow pipette work, he tilted the vial directly into the beaker.
As he did, things seemed to happen all at once. Firstly, he could hear Barksmee yelling

“What are you doing?!”

Secondly, as the drops fell he realized it was more than 3 drops that were falling towards his potion. And finally, there was the blast. The solution evaporated the moment the 4th drop of water hit it. The newly green liquid immediately turned into a geyser of putrid smoke. It shot out of the top of the flask and began filling the room as the reaction in the beaker expanded the liquid to millions of times its own volume in an incredibly fine smoke that filled Barksmee’s laboratory faster than both of them could hold their breath.

Chapter 2: Size matters

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Chapter 3: I’m rubber you’re glue

Brewberry looked pretty beaten up when he boarded the flying chariot, handing over the only bits he had on him as he collapsed tired in the chariot while it lifted off. Leaving and entering the Everfree Forest could be quite taxing which is why he didn't like to make the trip often. In his saddlebags, he already was short on multiple of the potions he had brought for emergencies. He had to squander a potion of strength, a potion of speed and a potion of vines on the way out of the forest to stay in one piece. Arguably him being an earth pony was the only reason he wasn't more exhausted.

The chariot lifted off and the gentle swaying and rhythmic flapping of wings lulled the stallion to sleep. Snoring softly as they passed over the Everfree Forest, vast swaths of farmland and even passed by Canterlot. A few hours later in the deep dark of night, Brewberry blinked and stretched, waking up under the light of Luna's gentle moon.

He wasn't sure where they were or if they even had passed Canterlot yet. What he did know was that the night was much too cold for his taste. His body seemed to agree as the harsh winds in his face made the stallion sneeze. To his horror, he couldn't stop himself, and as the sneeze rang out, his body immediately shrank to the size of a chicken once again. He was swept off his hooves by the sudden shift in size and footing, and a particularly unfortunate gust of wind. Thisblew the stallion out of the chariot, sending him careening towards the ground, flailing and yelling for help before his tiny body had the wind driven from its lungs as he landed on a tree branch. At his small size, the wide pine tree branches and needles cushioned his fall greatly. He cascaded down the tree from branch to branch, grunting and wheezing each time another branch met his chest or back. Once he reached the ground at a manageable but still painful velocity, he finally caught his breath.

“Damn, I owe you something if I ever meet you,” he said as he looked up at the moon, addressing princess Luna for what he presumed to be divine protection. He looked down at himself, sneezing again in the process, shooting back up to his regular size. He noticed the wet stains in his saddlebags, “Oh no luna preserve me!”

He opened the bags and was greeted by shattered glass, colorful stains and loose corks all over his bag's contents. He sighed with exasperation and emptied his bags on the moonlit forest floor to take inventory. Most of his supplies were wet but generally usable. The biggest loss was the shattered remains of 10 more potion flasks. Once all the unbroken flasks were accounted for he counted 1 rubber skin potion, 1 potion of strength and 1 potion of invisibility. Not much compared to the wide selection he had originally packed. He sighed and closed his bag. Luckily for him, his compass was still intact, so he squinted at it in the dim moonlight to find north. Whether he was past Canterlot or not, he knew that heading pretty much straight north and looking for major water streams was his best bet thanks to the falls being almost perfectly north of Ponyville and Canterlot.

He began wandering through the night, sneezing due to the light cold he had caught in the air. Each time his body shrunk, he cursed and used a leaf to try and tickle his nose into sneezing again. Marching north blindly was already chore, so he tried to keep the time doing it as a tiny version of himself to a minimum. He wasn't exactly keen on being caught out at night at comfortably bize size for a timberwolf or something similarly mean. He had about 5 of these incidents by the time his ears perked up, he could hear a distant rushing, definitely water. He turned to head to the direction of the noise, excited and frankly thirsty.

As he rushed to the sound of water and the dark trees became more sparse towards the riverbank, he froze. In the dark, he saw an outline. Multiple outlines. A group of animals were drinking at the river. He crept behind a tree for cover. Once one of the animals looked up, Brewberry realized it was a pack of wolves, maybe timberwolves? He couldn't tell in the dark. Either way he knew backing away and heading to the river at a different location would be the better choice. So he slowly backed up, paying careful attention to each step. When his left back hoof touched a twig, he carefully lifted it before it could snap. He wasn't careless enough to be caught up in such a simple mistake. To his chagrin, his cold didn't much care if he was in danger or not and despite him trying his best, the stifled sneeze might as well have been thunder. The stream of the water was not loud enough to cover the wet muffled sound of the stallion sneezing again and shrinking to chicken size. He panicked and began running as he saw the first wolf turning away from the water and towards him. The animals' eyes gleamed in the moonlight and brewberry did not intend to see them up close.

So he ran as fast as he could on his short tiny legs, hearing the howl of wolves behind him as they gave chase trying to find what exactly had made the noise. He could hear their paws hitting leaves and branches getting closer and closer as he blindly dashed through the underbrush. Being small had advantages, branches and bushes that would have stopped him were now merely things to flit by above his head as he dove under them. He could feel his heart pounding and his heavy breaths irritated his weakened lungs. He sneezed again, jolting back to normal size mid gallop. He moved much faster, but the wolves now had a clearly visible and audible target. He wasn't sure, but he thought he could hear them speeding up. The white stallion didn't dare to look back and just kept running until his instincts saved him from certain doom as his body came to a halt faster than he could process the small ravine. He stood at its edge, barely able to catch himself from falling over the edge. It was too wide to jump, but also too deep to escape downwards. He heard the wolves closing in, so he had to think fast. He reached into his saddleback, rummaging around till his hoof grasped the familiar flask, long with hard edges, like a gemstone with a cylinder at the top, slim and filled with what he knew to be a yellow liquid. He ripped out the cork with his teeth and downed it. He felt like his skin and fur was pulling tighter to his bones and muscles, he hated that feeling even if it only lasted a moment.

He dropped the flask as he heard a growl. He finally turned to see the 5 wolves encircling him, ready to pounce, but clearly hesitant with him standing so close to the ravine. He grinned, feeling very clever for what he was about to do. He faced the wolves and gave them a playful wave as he stepped backwards off the edge while pulling his saddlebag infront of him, clutching it as he plummeted down towards hard rock and unforgiving earth. He curled into a ball as much as possible before the ground hit his back, driving the air from his lungs. Usually a fall from this height would be disastrous to even an earth pony body, but instead of coming to any harm, Brewberrys body sprung back up as his back warped and stretched before flinging him back up to the other side of the ravine. He even managed to pull off a little flip as he landed back on solid ground, facing the snarling snapping wolves on the other side of the ravine.

He was down 1 rubber skin potion, but he felt that it was definitely worth it despite now being limited to only 1 potion of each type. He put the saddleback back on and turned, looking back at the wolves as the pounding of his heart began to slow.

“Shame no one saw that beside them. That was a sweet flip,” he mused out loud as he headed back in the river’s direction.

Chapter 4: Walk softly and carry a big flask

After a pleasant drink from the river, Brewberry moved on, following the river with the knowledge that the further upstream he went, the closer he’d get to Neighagra falls. He was certain this river originated from it and he was determined to reach it. For a moment he was of course considering just taking water from this stream, but he couldn’t be sure if some other water sources had diluted it, creating a less pure version of the water needed. So he dismissed the idea and trapsed onwards always following the river’s curves and bends. He eventually saw something that excited him in the distance: the familiar glow of a fire.

He headed straight for the light, abandoning the river in hopes of finding ponies that could give him directions. As the fire grew closer, he could hear voices. Gruff and gravely ones that were having a heated discussion. He got a bit more caution slowing his gallop to a trot as he approached, peeking at the fire from behind a tree. His suspicion was immediately justified as he could spy no ponies or other friendly faces there. Instead, the fire was surrounded by piles of what seemed to be random valuables, and 3 Diamond Dogs. They were debating how to split their ill-gotten gains. He could see that among the piles of shiny loot were 3 wooden clubs, clearly their weapons they used to threaten ponies, or even worse, attack pony villages. He settled in and listened closely.

“I say I get the big chunk. I'm the strongest and most intimidating. I make the ponies pay up quickly!” said the largest of the 3, a gray one with a very blocky brow and heavy set features.

“Nonsense, I'm the leader, so I get a bigger cut!” said the shortest one who had tufts of uneven fur making him look like an unkempt shrub.

“And who here voted for you?! Not me, not to mention I was the one who told you about the western road! If it wasn't for me, you'd both be clobbering at rocks to find gems, so I get the biggest cut!” said the third one who looked strangely thin for a diamond dog.

As they argued, Brewberry took note of the road. If there was a road, he could follow that instead of the river and maybe even find some signs or other ponies. However, he also was incredibly hungry, and the dogs were roasting mushrooms over their fire. He wasn't any good at foraging, or at least not at foraging edible things. The plants he had been taught to forage for potions were usually quite toxic, or at best gave you terrible stomach aches. But the smell of the mushrooms almost made him drool. He weighed his options. There was clearly no reasoning with these highwaymen, but he was unaware how long he'd be traveling with no food packed at all.

Eventually hunger won out over his concerns and he reached into his bag, pulling out a slender vial-looking flask that was much smaller than the average potion bottle. Inside was a shimmering grayish-blue liquid. He downed it before stowing the empty container in his bags. He then looked back at the Diamond Dogs who were now bickering even more bitterly, almost screaming at eachother. He grinned and stepped into the circle of the fires light. The hounds were none the wiser as the invisible pony snuck towards the fire where he ever so slowly pulled the wooden sticks out of the ground, making the spits of roasted fungus disappear in his invisible bags. The dogs continued to yell at eachother, too busy being greedy to notice their dinner disappearing.

Once Breweberry had all 3 mushroom spits secured, he began creeping backwards, extremely satisfied with his stealthiness until he realized the situation had escalated. The small one was threatening the thin one and the big one was reaching for his club as he looked up. Brewberry panicked and tried to move away more quickly without making too much noise, but he was too slow. With a terrifying crash, the large dog pounded the ground with his club, causing the other two to snarl and pull up their own clubs. Within seconds, there was angry barking and wooden clubs being swung in every direction, causing the stallion to cower even lower to the ground to try and avoid the heavy blow overhead.

He sped up his backwards crawl as one of the dogs was flung hard into the tree next to him, dropping his club dangerously close to Brewberry’s head with a heavy thunk. Once he was out of the circle of fire, the purple haired stallion got up and hurried off west towards the road the dogs had been hunting for riches. Once he was out of earshot, he ran as far as he could away from the dogs’ camp as his invisibility began to fade. He was getting tired and his hunger demanded he eat some of the stolen mushrooms, so he found a somewhat sheltered rock to rest under and eat as his body reappeared. He began chewing happily on the soft mushrooms, eating all 3 spits, surprising himself with his own hunger before he inevitably dozed off.

Chapter 5: Sisyphean efforts

The next morning, Brewberry was awoken by a ray of sunlight hitting his face directly, forcing him to wake up with a groan. He felt terrible—his back hurt, his mane was full of leaves, and he was operating on just three hours of sleep after his intense nighttime trek through the woods. He grumbled and looked up at the blazing sun.

“Could have let me sleep a few more hours, you know,” he mumbled, annoyed at Celestia's punctuality in raising the sun once more.

He stretched and got up, yawning as he started moving west for maybe two more hours. He wasn’t sure. He wasn't particularly great at telling the time by the sun’s shadow. Eventually, though, his patient march was rewarded as the dirt road came into view. He hurried onto it and checked its direction. It ran straight for miles and miles, and according to his compass, it ran perfectly north to south. He smiled as the realization overcame him. He knew this road! He had traveled down it before—many times, in fact, when he headed to and from Ponyville from Aunt Berry Punch. He was certain that if he followed it north and uphill, he’d arrive home within a day.

So he turned north and began walking, now with a bit of a spring in his step, satisfied with his navigational abilities as he headed uphill. The earth slowly sloped upwards, with the forest to his right and cliffs to his left—part of the great plateau that was home to the Neighagra Falls.

He went uphill like this for another few hours until he could see something ahead. He could hear it too—hooves and a bobbing mane barely visible over the road from where he was. He sped up, moving towards the sound and the blotch of green, heading further uphill to see more. Once he had passed over the crest, he saw him—another pony, with yellow fur and a green mane, pulling a cart full of mysterious crates.

“Hey! You there!” he called out. “I’m Brewberry!” he yelled up the road, waving at the stranger.

He got a wave back. “I’m Emerald Shine!” replied the other earth pony as both of them closed the distance to meet.

They politely shook hooves, and Brewberry gestured at the road ahead and uphill.

“That’s the way to Mareitton, right? By the falls?” he asked, just to be sure. He got a nod in response.

“Yeah, just came from there with this haul of gems from the plateau,” explained Emerald Shine.

“Oh, I’d head right back there if I were you. And only come back down with more ponies, ideally ones who can fight,” warned Brewberry.

“Huh? Why? Are there animals from the woods?”

“No, worse—diamond dogs with clubs. They’ve been robbing travelers on this road, seemingly for a while now. Don’t ask how I know—it’s complicated. But if it makes you feel better, I can accompany you back up the road.”

Emerald Shine pondered this for a moment and eventually nodded. “Explains why fewer shipments came up here last week. Alright, let’s head back,” he said as he turned the cart around to pull it back up the incline.

They moved at a comfortable pace, chatting about banalities along the way to pass the time. Brewberry enjoyed this a lot. He felt like the worst was behind him, like he could finally relax. He was tired and weak, driven only by polite conversation and the certainty of sleeping in his family home tonight before heading back to Ponyville the next day. While he was chatting and daydreaming about his mom's incredible hay-fries, he felt a low rumble go through the earth.

“Uh, did you feel that, Emerald?” he asked.

“Feel what? That low rumble? Yeah. Weird,” said the yellow-and-green stallion.

He was already shrugging off the confusion when they both flinched as a loud crash echoed through the air, followed by smaller ones. They could hear the earth undoing itself to their left. Brewberry’s purple eyes widened as he saw the entire cliffside crumbling, the rumbling growing more intense. It felt like the road was shifting, as small pebbles and then massive rocks and boulders came loose from the ancient stone cliffside, tumbling down toward the two ponies and the wooden cart.

"Oh, Celestia!" yelled Emerald Shine, cowering in fear, trying to make himself small so as not to get hit—a futile effort with the enormous boulder bearing down on them.

Driven by panic, Brewberry acted quickly. He scrounged around his saddlebags and ripped out the final flask—a large, round one. He put it to his lips, swirling the red liquid to empty it faster, letting it whirlpool down the neck of the bottle and into his mouth before tossing the flask aside. The thundering boulder was nearly upon them.

He sprinted towards it, prompting Emerald Shine to yell after him in confusion and fear. But Brewberry didn’t listen. He felt heat coursing through his body. Heading straight for the massive boulder, he threw himself into its path, planting his back hooves firmly in the dirt as he braced against its weight and momentum with his upper body. Groaning and grunting, the potion of strength coursing through him combined with his earth pony physique to fight the boulder’s inertia with every fiber of his being. The earth welled up around his hooves like the wake of a boat as the collision between the potion's power, his physical strength, and the descending boulder reached a stalemate.

The colossal rock threatened to roll over the stallion, but he stubbornly refused to let it win. Sweat poured from him as he strained against the weight until, slowly, the boulder's descent came to a halt—just in front of Emerald Shine and his cart. The yellow-and-green stallion could only stare at Brewberry, mouth agape.