Appletheosis

Chapters

Introduction: No time to be trespassin’
We’ll have to call in a professional
Some serious intellectual discourse
Oh don’t be so literal minded
I’ve seen the world that’s waiting for you
The wisest fool I’ve ever met
The devil would lie

Introduction: No time to be trespassin’

Applejack ducked under a thick, low-hanging branch and straightened her legs, lifting the obstacle up and away from the beaten dirt path. “There ya go, sis. See if you can scoot under there.”

Applebloom glanced at the thick forest to either side of the road. “Are you sure about this? Isn’t there an easier way through?”

“Them’s the breaks, kiddo. If there was an easier way, we wouldn’t need to clear the land in the first place.”

Applebloom stared at the branch. “Maybe I... should just ...”

“Go back?” Applejack turned to look at her. “But you’ve been excited about this all week. What’s the matter?”

Applebloom looked away and rubbed one knee against the inside of her leg.

“There’s nuthin’ to be scared of, I swear.”

“But it’s the Everfree forest! It’s where everything scary lives!”

Applejack pushed the branch aside and walked over to her. “I know we grownups are always tellin’ you young ’uns scary stories, and there’s a good reason for it. But you’re gettin’ older, Bloom. Clearin’ land is an important responsibility on a farm and you gotta start learnin’ the ropes now.”

“B-b-but...” Applebloom glanced around, knees wobbling.

“Aww!” Applejack gave her a gentle nudge. “I swear there’s nothin’ for you to worry about. This is one of the quietest parts of the forest, right on the edge, and as long as you’ve got me to keep an eye on you, everything’ll be just fine.”

“Promise?”

Applejack nodded. “Cross my heart!”

Applejack lifted the branch with her back and Applebloom ducked her head and walked under it.

“There y’go. You’re only scared because you’ve never done anything like this before. Once you’ve learned all about it, it won’t be scary anymore.” Applejack climbed out from under the branch and turned towards the empty road ahead. “Applebloom?”

Applejack stared at the dirt path and the thick wall of fetid, blue-green foliage to either side. She stood perfectly still and listened to the quiet sounds of the forest. There weren’t any animal calls or bird songs here. Just the rustling of leaves and the faint buzzing of flies.

“Applebloom?”

She jogged down the road a bit, searching the weeds and soil for hoofprints.

“Applebloom! This ain’t funny!”

She bolted down the road, turned a corner, and skidded to a halt in front of a small wooden archway with a rickety gate. The faded wooden planks were interwoven with prickly ivy, and there was a hoof-carved sign across the top of the arch. Applejack peered at the gate latch but found no sign of recent use.

Why would there be a gate here in the middle of nowhere? On a deerpath, no less?

She reared up and brushed the leaves away from the sign:

Paradise

“Applebloom? Are you in there?”

She stared at the sign a moment longer, then reared up and tore the vines away completely.

Welcome to Paradise Estates!

Jolly and pleasant, just for the present, No sign of trouble in sight!

My Little Pony, My Little Pony, May all your days be bright!

Applejack glanced over her shoulder at the empty dirt road home. She turned back to the gate. “Hello? Anypony home? Is it okay if I come in and look around, real quick?”

Applejack listened to the sounds of the forest a moment longer before giving the gate a gentle push. The latch slid open without a noise.

“The sign says welcome, so I’m comin’ in now. If y’all don’t want visitors, you can just say so, and I’ll leave you be. No hard feelings.” She pushed the gate open, ripping apart the rotten vines and scraping an arc in the dirt. She stepped through and left the gate ajar as she continued on. The forest was as bleak and impenetrable as ever.

“This is no time to be trespassin’, Applebloom. Just come out and I promise not to be cross with you.”

She came to the end of the road, and the foliage gave way to a large, circular clearing with a gently sloping hill in the middle that was dominated by a great branching tree with flat, shelf-like foliage. The lush, vibrant leaves fluttered in the wind like goose-down and a spectrum of colored shapes hung from the branches, heavy and succulent.

Applejack stared up at the massive, triangular tree for some time. She stepped into the clearing and looked down at the smooth, lush grass beneath her hooves. It was perfectly trimmed, without any trace of weeds or shrubs. She stopped at the foot of the tree and examined the roots.

What sort of funny-lookin’ tree is this, anyhow? She peered at the lowest branch. And why are the fruit all different shapes and colors?

She looked all around. From the top of the hill, she could just barely see the crowns of the surrounding trees. There weren’t any buildings here, nor any evidence that there had ever been.

Not much of an estate, she thought. She took a deep breath. “Applebloo—”

She heard a low, loud hiss behind her and her throat clenched tight. She turned around and stared into a pair of slitted, teal eyes sheathed behind a grid of stone-grey scales. The serpent’s body was as thick as her own neck, and it’s long, looping coils were slung over one of the tree’s lower branches. The serpent drew closer and licked the air with it’s grey, wet tongue.

“Hullo,” the serpent said, momentarily baring its long, curved fangs.

Applejack bolted across the clearing, tearing divots out of the perfectly smooth lawn. She screamed all the while, though it sounded strange to her own ears.

The serpent made no effort to stop her. It slowly turned it’s head and tracked her movement. A soft smirk tugged at the corner of it’s scaled mouth.

“You’ll be back,” it said. “And I’ll be here.”

We’ll have to call in a professional

Applejack sprinted down Main Street with Applebloom on her back, jostling her violently. Everypony they passed looked at her in shock: when they heard what she was shouting, they dropped what they were doing and ran indoors.

“Snake! Snaaake! Sah-naaaaayake!!”

“Would you jes calm down already?” Applebloom said, holding onto her mane. “We’re in town now! Can’t you at least slow down a bit?”

Applejack continued screaming all the way to the library. She kicked the front door open with both hind hooves, rushed inside, and slammed it behind her. “Twilight! We gots us a genuine emergency!”

Twilight peeked down from the second floor balcony and, with a flash of light, appeared beside her. “What happened? Tell me everything!”

“Snake!” Applejack threw Applebloom on a nearby beanbag chair. “Applebloom wandered off while we were surveyin’ the everfree forest, and there was a giant snake! You gotta check’er for bite marks or poison or somethin’!”

“Would you quiet down?” Applebloom said. “Ah didn’t bump into no snake. And besides, you were the one who wandered off! I turned around for jest a second, and you were nowhere to be—”

Applejack pointed a hoof in her face. “I don’t wanna hear no excuses outta you! You coulda got hurt real bad!”

Applebloom leaned back slightly, staring cross-eyed at Applejack’s hoof as it pointed at her nose. “Think you can talk some sense into her?”

Twilight nudged Applejack’s hoof aside. “Can you describe this snake for me?”

“Huge!” she said. “Positively gi-normous! Coulda swallowed somepony whole! It was all orange and scaly and the face was all armored, like a dragon!”

“How long was it?”

“Can’t say for sure, on account of it was all coiled up in a tree... but it musta been at least fifty yards long! You shoulda seen it! It musta been one of them annie-condas!”

Twilight arched an eyebrow. “Anacondas aren’t venomous.”

Applejack’s eyes darted to her sister. “Y’sure about that?”

“They don’t even have fangs.”

Applejack stamped a hoof. “Well this one did! He flashed ’em at me when he spoke!”

“That’s... odd.” Twilight turned to one of the bookshelves. Her horn glowed, and a selection of books slid off the shelves and hovered into the air in a circle around her head. “The largest fanged snake in the world is the Bitis Gabonica, or Gaboon viper, but the longest one on record was still only two meters, five centimeters. That’s eighty-one inches.”

“I know what I saw!” Applejack shouted. “We gotta get the word out! Close off the forest! Build a fence or somethin’!”

Applebloom scowled at her. “You really think a fence is gonna keep one single snake out of Ponyville?”

“Hush you! It’s to keep curious little fillies like you out of the forest. We can’t let folks wander around with a giant snake on the loose!”

Applebloom climbed out of the beanbag chair and marched towards the door. “This was all your idea from the start. I’m goin’ home.”

Applejack pointed a hoof at her and opened her mouth to speak, but Twilight tapped her shoulder. “I need you to take a deep breath, Applejack. We’ll look into this right away, but it’s not an immediate threat. Your family is safe.”

“How can you be so calm with that thing on the loose? Aren’t you the least bit afraid?”

“Of course I’m afraid of snakes.” Twilight set the books back on the shelf, except for one with a coiled serpent engraved on the cover. “But I’ve learned enough about them to know how to react to them: Constrictors of that size aren’t poisonous, and they generally don’t attack anything that’s too large for them to swallow whole. It probably threatened you because you stumbled into its home: It was just scared of you.”

“It!?” Applejack’s eyes widened. “Scared of me!?”

Twilight smiled at her. “You’d be surprised.”

Applejack pawed at the floor. “Well... gosh. Now I just feel silly.”

“I’m not saying it wasn’t dangerous... just not as dangerous as you think. We’d better look into this anyways, just to be sure. A fanged serpent of that size is quite unusual, and—” Twilight frowned, and turned to look at her. “Wait a second. Did you say this snake... spoke to you?”

Applejack nodded. “I swear it did. Right to my face.”

Twilight bit her lower lip and looked away. “This… changes things a bit.”

“For the worse?”

“Not sure. It might be a magical creature of some sort. We’ll have to call in a professional.”

Applejack glanced at the royal scrolls arranged on Twilight’s desk. “You mean, like, the royal guards or something?”

“They aren’t prepared for this sort of circumstance.” Twilight gazed out a window. “This will require something much more serious.”

Fluttershy pranced along the rough, beaten path that led through the outskirts of the Everfree forest, humming to herself with a smile. On her back she balanced a wicker basket covered with a red-and-white checkered cloth. She came to a rickety wooden archway and looked up at the sign.

“Paradise Estates?” she said. “Well isn’t that sweet!”

She opened the gate and stepped through, carefully closed it behind her, and walked to the circular clearing. “Are you home, mister snake? I’ve brought you... some...”

She stood and stared, slack jawed, at the gently swaying tree. The crown was puffy and round and resplendent with bright pink blossoms, and a soft rain of petals filled the air like snow. The clearing all around was divided by a network of babbling brooks, adorned with elegant hardwood bridges painted bright red. Spherical paper lanterns hung all about, filled with glowing insects.

But... Applejack said...

Fluttershy strolled into the clearing and walked down one of the many meandering pathways. There were gardens all around her, filled not with flowers but white sand that had been raked into whorling patterns and decorated with round, black stones. She came to the foot of the tree—it looked more like a very large shrub, really—and peered up at the fruit.

...Peaches?

She heard a hissing noise and spun around. She briefly caught sight of a sheath of gleaming jade scales and long feathery whiskers that trailed through the air and curled at the ends.

“Hullo?” The serpent said.

“Eek!” Fluttershy flinched away. As soon as she blinked, the garden was gone. The perfume of flower petals was no more, and the clearing was a field of smooth, plain grass.

“I-I’m sorry. I thought—” She turned back to the serpent: a perfectly ordinary constrictor. “Nevermind. I thought I saw something, but it was kind of... day-dreamy.”

The serpent tilted its head. “You shouldn’t believe everything you see, I suppose. Why are you here, if I might be so bold as to ask?”

She smiled. “I came to say hello, and to learn more about you! One of my friends stumbled into your home by accident and I hear she gave you a terrible fright. I’m here to make amends.”

“Amends?” the snake said. “With me?”

“Well why not? There’s no reason we can’t be good neighbors.”

“I’m not frightened of your friend,” he said. “At all.”

“Oh. Well, I can still apologize for the misunderstanding.” Fluttershy set her basket at the foot of the tree and removed the cloth. “Are you hungry? I brought you some yummy eggs! Um-num!”

The serpent eyed her up and down. “In trade?”

“No, they’re just a gift. A housewarming gift, if you will. Have you been living here long?”

“Not... exactly.” The snake nodded towards the trunk. “You’re not here for this, are you?”

“The tree? Oh, not at all. I just wanted to visit you.” Fluttershy sat down on the grassy hill. “My name is Fluttershy. Pleased to meet you!”

The snake slithered further out of the tree, hanging low enough to meet her gaze without scraping against the ground. His tail also lowered into view nearby, coiled around the trunk of the tree. The snake watched her in silence.

“So,” she said, “do you have a name?”

“You really aren’t afraid of me?” he asked. “Not even the least little bit?”

Fluttershy rolled her eyes. “I know, I know... there’s only two things all ponies are afraid of—thunder and snakes—but I’m different. I’ve always had a special way with animals. My friends sent me to meet you because they’re all afraid of you, but that doesn’t mean we can’t reach an understanding.”

“I see.” The snake looked at the clearing all around. “Tell me, Fluttershy... does any of this seem familiar to you? The garden, the tree... myself. Does it remind you of anything?”

“Not really,” she said. “Should it?”

“You haven’t heard any stories about this sort of thing? Any at all, no matter how old or obscure?”

Fluttershy shook her head. “We’ve got lots of stories, but I don’t think we have any about snakes and trees... though I’m not an expert on the topic. I have a friend who could probably tell you more.”

“Hm. Well. I must thank you for the gift you’ve brought me, but I’m afraid eggs aren’t exactly a staple element of my diet.”

“Oh? What do you eat?”

The snake’s eyes drifted to the end of it’s own tail, distracted. “Not... much of anything, really. If I can help it.” He looked away.

“Oh.”

“But it was still a very kind gesture on your part. Perhaps I can offer you something in return.” One of the serpent’s coils wrapped around a lower branch and bent it down low, dangling a lumpy, green fruit in front of her nose. It looked nothing at all like a peach. “Would you care to eat of the fruit of the tree?”

“Ah... thank you,” she said, eyeing the fruit. “But what kind of fruit is it? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Power,” the serpent said. “Power everlasting.”

Fluttershy stared at him quietly.

“And... what does power everlasting taste like? If you don’t mind me asking?”

“It’s juicy, and sort of sweet and tart at the same time, and... well, it’s not actually...” the snake paused to look at the fruit. “Have you had strawberries before?”

Fluttershy nodded, slowly.

“It’s basically like a watered-down strawberry, but crunchier. It’s technically a melon.”

“And... you mentioned power?”

“Everlasting,” the serpent said. “Yours for the taking. Immortality, knowledge, the whole nine yards.”

“And you’re just going to give it to me?”

“Well, perhaps it would be an exaggeration to refer to it as a gift. But I’m sure an arrangement can be made...” The serpent slithered down from the tree and coiled on the ground around her. “You’d just have to do something for me, first—just one tiny little thing, inconsequential really—and the power everlasting is yours for the taking.”

Fluttershy bit her lip and leaned away from the serpent. “What’s that?”

He drew closer, flicking his tongue in the air. “All you have to do... is murder all your best friends.”

Fluttershy glared at the serpent for some time.

He nodded, matter of factly. “So. What do you say?”

Fluttershy stood up. “That’s the most monstrous thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life, and you ought to be thoroughly ashamed of yourself for even suggesting such a thing.”

The serpent flinched back, eyes wide. “No way! Seriously?”

“Good day, mister snake.” Fluttershy stepped over his coils and walked away.

The snake slithered over the ground and reared up in front of her. “You aren’t even going to consider it? Not for a second?”

She tossed her nose in the air with sniff. “Good day mister snake.” She walked around him.

“My goodness. You’re much further along than I expected. I’m terribly—” He turned, and saw her halfway across the clearing. He bolted across the smooth grass like an arrow and reared up in front of her again. “No-no-no, wait! Don’t go yet!”

Fluttershy set her jaw and turned her head away.

“There’s been a terrible misunderstanding, Miss Fluttershy. I’m so very sorry.”

“Well I should hope so. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I can’t really go into the details of it, but suffice to say I deal with a very wide variety of people in my line of work, and I never know what to expect from any of them. I think I made an assumption about you and your kind that was completely unwarranted and I apologize deeply for that.”

“Assumption?” Fluttershy pursed her lips. “You asked me to murder my friends! How did you think I’d react!?”

“Well now we know where we stand on the issue,” he said. “I’ve known people who weren’t bothered by murder in the slightest! In fact, I knew the guy who came up with the idea in the first place. It’s kind of a funny story, actually: he and his brother got into an argument about—”

Fluttershy tossed her nose in the air with sniff and walked around him.

“All right all right!” he said, “so it wasn’t that funny. In fact it wasn’t funny at all! I meant it more in the sense of being quirky and unusual. Not ha-ha funny.”

The serpent darted out again, but snapped taught mere inches short of her hind leg. He glanced back at the very tip of his tail, still wrapped around the tree. He looked back at Fluttershy as she strolled to the edge of the clearing.

“No, wait!” he shouted. “Can’t we just sit and talk about this like civilized beings?”

She paused to look back at him.

“Well? Can’t we?”

“...I’m listening,” she said.

“Ah. Yes. So you are.” The serpent rested his chin on the grass. “So! Murder: bad. And not at all funny. Right? We’re in agreement?”

“Is there something you actually want to talk about?”

“Well, now that you mentioned it... this whole murder thing.” He gazed up at the sky, idly. “Did you ever wonder if there were circumstances—hypothetically, of course—where it might be acceptable to murder someone?”

“What!?”

“Or even necessary? What if you were given the opportunity to save the lives of ten ponies, but would have to murder one single pony to do it? I mean, it’s also wrong to steal things—less wrong, of course, but still fundamentally wrong—and yet it’s considered acceptable to steal food if your family is poor and starving. So what if we apply the same—”

Fluttershy tossed her mane and walked out of the clearing.

“No, wait! What if you could save a hundred ponies? And what if the pony you had to murder was really bad, like a criminal or something?”

The serpent watched her disappear into the foliage.

“You’ll be back!”

Some serious intellectual discourse

Fluttershy trudged into Ponyville’s public library, scowling. Twilight Sparkle looked up from her writing desk and watched her flop into a beanbag chair.

“How’d it go?”

“He was perfectly dreadful,” she said. “You wouldn’t believe the things he wanted to talk about. I’d rather not visit him again if it’s all the same to you.”

“Well, all right. But is he a threat? Is he dangerous?”

“He could be if he wanted to,” she said, “but he refuses to let go of that tree of his. I don’t think he’ll ever leave that clearing.”

“Did he seem magical, like a dragon or a basilisk?”

“Well actually, for a moment there...” Fluttershy shook her head and flopped back in the chair. “No, it was probably nothing. He’s just your everyday, garden-variety talking snake. He wasn’t even giant: ten or twelve yards, yes, but that’s still a healthy length for an anaconda.”

“Huh.” Twilight looked at the encyclopedia book on the desk beside her. “Did he have fangs?”

“Don’t be silly,” she said. “He was a constrictor. They aren’t venomous.”

“I know, but did you check for sure? Did he ever open his mouth?”

“Not wide enough for me to see.” Fluttershy sat upright. “Why?”

“I think I’d like to visit him myself, if only to examine him. He might be a completely new kind of species. Do you think he’d agree to such a thing?”

Fluttershy shrugged. “He seems much more keen on talking than actually doing anything. But even so, you should take somepony with you just to be on the safe side.”

Rainbow Dash skimmed low over the treetops, carrying Twilight along with their forelegs hooked together. “So, how big are we talking here? Fifty yards? A hundred? Two hundred?”

“Hardly,” Twilight said. “It’s more like ten or twelve yards.”

“Aw, come on! You dragged me all the way out here for that?”

“I might remind you that Nightmare Moon was less than three yards tall at the ears and she caused no end of trouble. It’s not the size that has me worried.” She squinted at the endless canopy below. “It’s actually not the snake I’m worried about at all... it’s the tree. Applejack described it as having many different kinds of fruit, so it might be an artificial construct. If somepony used magic or alchemy to create it, we need to know about it.”

“Tree... pfsh. I’ve flown over this part of the forest plenty of times, and I’ve never seen a tree in a clearing. If there were one, we’d see it a mile away.”

Twilight watched the foliage below and sighed. “Let’s set down here and rest for a minute. I’ll go over Applejack’s directions one more time.”

Rainbow Dash lowered her into the canopy and set her down on a beaten path that just happened to be directly underneath them.

Dash pawed at the dirt. “Whoa. Think this is the same one she was talking about?”

“There, see? We weren’t that lost.” She shuffled her shoulders and walked down the path. “Let’s see where it leads.”

“Wait wait wait. Don’t you think this is a little... lucky? That it just happened to be right under us, just when we decided to land?”

“It’s not that unthinkable. We were following directions, after all, so it’s—” Twilight froze as she caught sight of a wooden archway with a rickety gate, directly ahead of them.

Rainbow Dash tilted her head, and her left ear flipped up. “Tell me that’s not lucky.”

“Well it’s not impossible,” Twilight said as she walked through the gate. “You can’t just go attributing everything to luck, good or bad.”

“Do you think it was some kind of freaky magic that brought us out here?” Dash hovered up and waggled her hooves. “Oooh-wooo! Snaaaake magic!”

Twilight waved a hoof at her. “Would you cut that out? It’s kind of insulting. Fluttershy said he was probably just an ordinary talking snake, and I intend to treat him with respect. I don’t want you making fun of him.”

“Okay, okay... sheesh.”

Twilight and Rainbow Dash walked down the path and came to the edge of a vast, yawning chasm: the very edge of the world loomed ahead, with floating continents suspended in the air over a sea of impenetrable mist. The crumbling, rocky land masses each contained a distinct biome: ice and snow, fire and brimstone, trees and rivers, shadowy crevasses. Each of these realms were fastened together by the roots of a colossal ash tree whose trunk thrust high into the clouds and whose branches loomed far above the stars themselves.

Wha...?

Twilight stared down at the yawning void below and saw a nest of vipers writhing amongst the lower roots of the tree... so many that no tongue could enumerate them. A greater serpent, nearly as thick as the tree itself, coiled up around the trunk. It’s stone-gray head turned to fix it’s inky eyes upon them with an empty, yawning hunger that was never to be sated.

“Hullo?”

Twilight blinked, once, and saw an ordinary tree on a gently sloping hill. A large, reddish-orange boa constrictor hung down from the branches and looked at them blandly, its mouth stuffed full of shiny white eggs.

“You... we were...” Twilight looked around at the clearing. “Sorry, I just... thought I saw...”

“Whoa,” Rainbow Dash whispered. “Snake magic.”

The serpent struggled for a moment to swallow the eggs. “This isn’t about the basket, is it? She just left them here, so I figured—”

“Yeah, no. That’s... that’s fine.” Twilight pointed at the tree. “Did something happen, just a second ago?”

The snake rolled its eyes and flexed it’s coils, affecting a shrug. “Dunno. Did it?”

“Well anyways.” Twilight took a deep breath, which she then slowly exhaled. “Good morning, mister snake. My name is Twilight Sparkle, and I work for the local public library. I was wondering if you’d be willing to answer a few questions for us.”

“Library?” he said, arching an eyebrow. “You ponies have actual written language?”

“Well, yes.”

“I think I underestimated how much I underestimated you.” The snake darted it’s nose into the basket and swallowed another egg. “What do you want with me, anyways?”

“Just some questions. Is this is a bad time? If you’re busy, I can come back later.”

The snake snorted. “Busy? Me? I don’t remember the last time I was busy. Ask away.”

“That’s wonderful!” Twilight took out a clipboard and set a pair of reading glasses on her nose. “Now then, Mister Snake. Do you have a name?”

“I thought that was your job,” he said.

“My... my job?”

“Naming all the animals in the garden. That’s your thing. It’s what you do.”

Twilight smiled brightly. “Actually, I have reason to think you might be a completely undiscovered species! If that’s the case, and if I can gather enough biological evidence of your existence, I might even be permitted to name you! I mean, not you personally.”

“Species? Evidence?” The serpent’s eyes widened. “Are you saying you’re a scientist?”

“Yes. I’m not a full-time biologist, but I dabble in a lot of different fields.”

The serpent smiled at her. “Well that changes everything! I love you intellectual types!”

“Really? That’s fantastic!” Twilight dabbed her quill in an inkwell. “Do you have a personal name? Something we can use to identify you as an individual?”

“Quite a few, actually... but if I had to pick one, it would be Zaraturvara.” He leaned close and peered over the edge of her scroll. “That’s Z, A, R, A...”

“Yes, yes, good good... zara, tur, vara.” She turned the scroll towards him. “Do I have that right?”

“Spot on. And excellent penmanship, I must say.”

“Thank you. Now then... are you a magical being?”

“No. I’m just an ordinary snake, strictly speaking.”

“Interesting. And what does your diet consist of, primarily?”

“I don’t have one.”

“You... what?” Twilight looked up. “What do you mean, you don’t eat?”

“Pretty much what it sounds like. I don’t eat.”

“What about those eggs?”

“They’re not nutritious to me or anything. Just tasty. And it keeps my mind off...” The serpent eyed the tip of his own tail. “Other things. Other appetites.”

“No... food. Riiight.” Twilight scribbled something. “So, how many of your kind are there?”

“It’s just me, actually. I’m the only one.”

“What about your parents?”

“They were not like me. At all.”

“Can you describe your biological parents for me?”

“My most recent mother was a giantess, and my most recent father was—still is, really, but he’s not doing much these days. He was the god of fire and trickery, and you wouldn’t believe the sort of trouble I get into because of his reputation. He kind of... got around, if you know what I mean. He was also the father of a wolf and the mother of an eight-legged horse.”

Twilight tilted her reading glasses down. “Your father... was a mother?”

“Not simultaneously.” The serpent peered at her scroll again. “Are you getting all this? I so rarely get to talk about myself. Most people just come for the tree.”

“Mister Zar... Zarat...” She paused to look at her scroll. “Mister Zaraturvara. Are you being completely honest with me?”

Zaraturvara sighed. “There, see? As soon as people find out about my father, they—”

“It’s nothing to do with your lineage, Mister Zaraturvara. It’s just that some of the things you’ve told me are... kind of a little...”

“Yes?”

“Impossible,” Twilight said. “It’s impossible for a living organism to survive without some form of food, water, air, and warmth.”

He tilted his head. “Any more impossible than a talking snake?”

“Trust me, that’s not the strangest thing we’ve encountered.”

“Yes, but I’m guessing all those other strange things were magical. Have you ever encountered a non-magical talking snake?”

“Well... no. Not until now, at least.”

“And don’t you think that’s a little odd? The funny part is I never went to school. I was never given lessons. I wasn’t raised by a community of my own species. I just sprang into being, fully equipped with the faculty of speech. In all languages, no less.”

“Well you had to come from somewhere.”

“Yes, of course I was created... all things were created. And what does creation imply?”

“Physical laws? Temporal reality? Observable evidence?”

“Creation,” he said, “implies a creator.”

They stared at him, blankly.

“You know, the creator? Of the cosmos?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on. An intelligent creator. Don’t tell me you’ve never even thought about it.”

Twilight and Dash glanced at each other for a moment.

“It just seems a little silly, that’s all.”

“Oh, it does, does it?” the snake smirked at them. “Well then, let’s hear it. Let’s hear what the leading scientific minds have to say about the origin of all creation! Let’s see how the great intellectual argues her way out of the inception of causality. Go on... prove he doesn’t exist.”

“Who?”

“The omnipotent creator. If you’ve got an argument against his existence, I’m all too willing to hear it. I enjoy a challenge.”

The ponies and the serpent stared at each other for some time. Leaves rustled in the wind. A hawk cried out in the distance.

“How did we get onto this topic?” Rainbow Dash said. “Weren’t we talking about snakes and species and stuff?”

“Oh, come on!” Zaraturvara said. “You’re not even going to try to argue it either way?”

“It just seems kind of pointless,” said Twilight. “If there really is a creator, it’s not like it would change anything for us. The world still works the way it always has. What’s the difference?”

“Don’t you worry what he thinks of you? Whether he cares about you or not? What sort of plans he might have for you? Don’t you ever want to reconcile the perceived conflict between science and religion?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s the conflict that arises from the assumed nature of free will and the scientific method, when compared to the...” the snake paused to look at them. “Wait. What’s what?”

“Religion,” Twilight said. “What’s that?”

“You... but... it’s...” The snake reared up and glowered down at them. “You people are totally unmanageable! How am I supposed to work like this!?”

Rainbow Dash stepped forward. “Okay, just calm down there mister snake. Why don’t we, uh... talk about something else?”

“Don’t you change the subject on me!” he hissed.

Rainbow Dash recoiled in shock, and she and Twilight hugged each other tight. They took a step back together, eyes wide.

“What? What’s... oh!” Zaraturvara folded his fangs back and closed his mouth. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Rainbow Dash and Twilight slowly let go of each other.

The serpent sighed. “Yes, fine, very well. We can change the subject.”

“Okay then...” Twilight pointed at the tree. “What about that? Is it your home? Is there some kind of symbiotic relationship going on here?”

“Yes, it’s really rather nice, don’t you think? It’s not really my official place of residence, but I have been tasked with guarding it. Sort of. I don’t get out much, as you can imagine.”

“What kind of tree is it? Do you know?”

“It’s the tree of knowledge. It is not part of a species, for it is unique... and yet its branches and leaves can be found in all sapient things.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It’s a metaphor.”

“Well, I’m talking about the tree. What is the tree?”

“I told you. The tree is a metaphor.”

Twilight tossed her clipboard aside. “Are you telling me that this tree... this real and entirely physical tree... is a metaphor?”

“Yes.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” Twilight put the lid back on her inkwell and packed up her writing supplies. “I’ve got better things to do than talk about such nonsense. Good day, mister Zaraturvara.”

“Oh-ho! Ridiculous nonsense? I see your hardwired little intellectual mind simply isn’t able to wrap itself around the complexities of... of the...” he watched as Twilight and Rainbow Dash walked away. “Where are you going? You can’t just walk out on a conversation like this! Get back here!”

Twilight glanced back without slowing her pace. “Let me know when you’re willing to be reasonable. Then we’ll talk about talking.”

“Don’t you even want to know what the tree does? What’s wrong with you!?”

“What a dweeb,” Rainbow Dash muttered.

“What is the circle constant?” The snake called out.

Twilight stopped walking and turned back with a frown. “The what?”

“The circle constant,” he said. “The ratio of a circle’s circumference to it’s diameter.”

“I know what pi is,” she said. “Why do you want to know about it?”

“Is it real?”

Twilight opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated.

“Well?” he said.

“Of course it’s real, in the sense that it is a clearly defined mathematical constant. But it doesn’t have a physical substance or anything.”

“And yet it is an integral part of every perfect circle in existence. Every circle that ever did exist, or that ever will. It is a permenant foundation of the laws of reality that can be proven by exact mathematics, and yet its true value can never be known in full: it is an irrational, non-terminating and non-repeating decimal representation. Thus, you can only comprehend it through the metaphor of ‘diameter over circumference’.”

“It’s the other way around,” said Twilight. “Circumference over diameter.”

“Whatever!” The serpent said. “Can you not imagine that a thing need not be real for it to be true? Or that it need not be extant for it to be real? A metaphor can be more powerful—and far more dangerous—than any tangible thing!”

Twilight worked her jaw back and forth. “That’s...”

“Yes? Yes?”

“That’s actually a very interesting thought.”

“Aha! Finally, we have a breakthrough.”

Twilight turned back to the forest wall. “I’ll have to ask the princess about it sometime. I’m sure she’ll know the answer.”

Zaraturvara watched, slack jawed, as Twilight and Rainbow Dash walked out of the clearing and into the leaves.

“Cheater!”

Rainbow Dash immediately poked her head out of the foliage. “What did you call us?” she snarled.

“I said you’re cheating. Because you’re a cheater. On account of all the cheating cheats you cheat.”

Dash clenched her jaw and marched back into the clearing. She came to a halt in front of the serpent and pressed her face against his brow.

“You callin’ me out, bucko?”

“I call it as I see it. I was actually referring to your friend, over there... but if you’re willing to walk away without a fight, you’re not much better than her.”

“What’s your deal, anyway? All we did was come and visit, trying to be all friendly like, and you’ve done nothing but whine and complain about how nopony wants to hang out with you and listen to your dumb old questions. Did you think that maybe it’s got something to do with your ’tude?”

“You were the ones who decided to visit me and my tree out of a desire to ask me questions about myself... and yet you lack the courage to face the answers. You don’t really want to know or understand me. You just want to slap a scientific name on something and call it a day, just to put yourself in the history books. You have no interest in some serious intellectual discourse: I’m just a freak of nature to you!”

“You want us to take you seriously? Well fine, then. Prove it.”

Zaraturvara stared at her for a moment. “Prove what?”

“You said that this is the tree of knowledge, right? Well, go ahead and prove it.”

“Very well then. How?”

“That’s your problem, bucko. You’re the one who wants to be taken seriously, so you’re the one who has to pony up.”

“Now we’re talking,” he said. “Unfortunately, I can’t give you that information directly. Knowledge about the tree of knowledge can only be attained by eating of the fruit of tree of knowledge.”

They stared at each other for awhile.

“So,” he said, “do you want to eat of the fruit of the tree of knowledge? I’m supposed to guard it, but I’m sure an arrangement could be—”

Dash turned away. “What a load of hot air.”

“Fine, fine. I cannot explain the tree of knowledge, but I can do the next best thing: I can explain the tree of life.”

“The what?”

“That over there, see?” he nodded across the clearing, where a second identical tree stood. “It’s the acacia tree of Iusaaset, the heavenly peach tree wherein roost a phoenix and a dragon, the trees by the crystal clear waters that bear twelve crops every month... the whole shebang.”

Rainbow Dash squinted at the other tree. “Was that there a minute ago? And why does it look exactly like this one?”

“Completely different, I assure you. Give me a scroll and I’ll see what I can do to quell your doubts regarding the authenticity of my many and varied qualifications.”

Twilight walked back to the top of the hill, warily, and passed the serpent a scroll. He dipped his tongue into the inkwell and began to lick the paper. They watched as a branching array of lines took form, each finer and smaller than the last, until they were thinner than single hairs and then even thinner still.

“There you go... the tree of life. There it is in black and white.”

Twilight set the scroll on the grass and took out a magnifying glass. “What is it?”

“Life,” he said. “All life. Anywhere. Ever. It starts with the three main genealogical branches. Here, you’ve got your prokaryotic bacteria. These are the Archaea, which includes single-cell organisms that lack nuclei and organelles. And here you have your Eukaryota, which includes most of the lifeforms that are visible to the naked eye... plants, animals, slime molds, kumquats, all that good stuff.”

Dash nudged Twilight. “Hey, does any of this check out?”

Twilight looked up from the scroll and gazed at the duplicate tree across the clearing. “It’s so... familiar. The branches... they’re...” She shook her head, numbly.

“Well?” said Zaraturvara. “What do you have to say about that?”

“I’ll have to show this to the princess. She’ll know what to make of it.”

“Jesus Christ, you people!” He tail lashed out with his tail and swiped the scroll away, crumpling it up and tossing it out of view. “Can’t you think for yourselves for just once in your entire lives?”

Twilight reached for the crumpled scroll as it tumbled down the hill. “Hey, I was looking at that!”

Rainbow Dash grabbed Twilight and pulled her along, back towards the dirt path. “Come on. We’re out of here.”

“We had a deal!” Zaraturvara called after them. “I showed you proof, and you agreed to take me seriously!”

“That was before we figured out that you’re a serious jerk!”

“You’ll be back!” He shouted, then sighed to himself. “Oh, who am I kidding.”

Oh don’t be so literal minded

“So, how big of a snake are we talking here? Fifty yards? A hundred?”

Rarity looked at Spike, who was riding on her back and keeping a wicker basket steady. “Not even,” she said. “Twilight said he was only eight or ten yards long.”

“That’s still pretty large, isn’t it? I wonder what he’s like.”

“Twilight paid him a visit, didn’t she? Did you ask her about it?”

Spike shrugged. “Yeah, but she won’t say anything about him. Said he was a waste of time.”

“From a scientific point of view, I assume?”

“Pretty much. Whatever happened, it must’ve been pretty frustrating for her.”

“Well we can’t have that, now can we?” Rarity ducked under a loose branch and turned a corner. “Fluttershy is certainly good with wild animals, but this particular one is intelligent: He deserves to be treated with a more refined, diplomatic touch. So far, everypony who's visited him has come back with a simply dreadful story. I’m sure he must think we’re just as dreadful.”

“Well, kay... but what if they’re right? What if they think he’s a jerk-face because he’s actually a jerk-face?”

“Then that’s what we need to determine. True diplomacy is more than just threat assessment and scientific research.” She looked back at him. “Why did you want to come along, anyhow?”

“Mostly just to keep you safe,” he said. “It’s dangerous out here.”

She frowned at him. “Don’t get any funny ideas about heroics, all right?”

“It’s not that,” he said. “You can handle yourself just fine. I’m just saying it’s always safer to go hiking or camping in pairs... the buddy system is just plain common sense.”

“Oh. Well, of course... how thoughtful.”

“No problem. Though I have to admit, I kind of want to meet this snake. We’re both reptiles, so we might have something in common. And it’d be nice to have another guy to hang out with, too.”

“Just promise to leave all the talking to me for the first little while. Once we’ve smoothed things over, then we can afford to get a little casual.”

“You got it.”

Rarity walked to the end of the dirt road and came to the edge of a vast, barren ocean. The beach was made of jagged gravel, and the brackish waves crashed against the western edge of the world and sent sprays of salty, fetid foam into the air. There was a small island just off the coast: a rocky outcropping with a flattened top, whereupon stood a garden of indescribable beauty. In the center of this garden was a dead and dying tree: nothing but a snapped and splintered trunk, like a bleached femur thrust into the ground. A great scaled beast writhed at the foot of the tree: its bloated body was covered in armored scales, and a hundred serpentine necks writhed and thrashed about in the throes of a long and lingering death. Each head cried out in a different voice. A single golden apple hung from the highest branch of the tree, shining and ripe. A triad of slender, unutterably beautiful mares lounged by a nearby pool, playing harps, singing and washing their manes.

“Rare? You okay?”

Rarity flinched at the sound of Spike’s voice. She glanced around at the plain grassy hill in the circular clearing. “Sorry, I... did you see anything odd just now? Like a daydream, or deja-vu?”

“Nope. Just a hill and a tree. Why?”

“It’s nothing. Nevermind.” She walked to the foot of the tree and delicately cleared her throat. “Helloooo? Are you home, mister snake?”

She heard a deep, metallic hiss directly behind her. Rarity spun around and stared into the slitted eyes of an orange boa-constrictor. It hung down from the highest branch, perfectly still in the cool breeze. She clenched her jaw and swallowed a lump in her throat.

‘Only’ eight yards...!?

Spike glanced between them, then nudged Rarity with his elbow. She stood perfectly still, except for her trembling knees. The serpent continued to loom before them.

“Heya!” Spike said. He hopped off her back and held up the wicker basket. “My name’s Spike! How do you do?”

“As well as can be expected. Greetings, Spike.” He nodded to him respectfully. “My name is Zaraturvara. Welcome to my tree.”

“Cool.” Spike held up the basket. “We brought you some more eggs, if you want ’em.”

“Kind of you.” Zaraturvara peered at Rarity, who was still trembling. “Is she with you?”

“Yeah, she’s cool. You know how it is... ponies and snakes.”

The serpent lowered to eye level with her and smiled without baring his fangs. “Greetings, fair maiden. It is both an honor and a privilege to have you grace my humble garden with your magnificent presence.”

“Thanks!” she squeaked. “Pleasure’s mine!”

“Please, do have a seat.”

“That’s very gracious of you!” Rarity flopped on the grass and managed to take a slow, deep breath. “I’m sorry... about... I didn’t mean to...”

Zaraturvara shook his head and clucked his tongue. “Not offended in the slightest, my lady. ’Tis simply the way of things. Do please, take as long as you need to compose yourself.”

Rarity sat on the grass and watched in silence as the serpent nudged his nose in the basket of eggs. After a few more deep breaths, the tremble left her limbs and she managed a nervous, apologetic laugh. “Not exactly the best of first impressions, I suppose.”

“It’s simply your nature, and no fault of you and yours.” He lowered onto the grass like a coil of rope, with his head reared up. “So what brings you here? It’s not the tree is it? Are you here for the tree?”

“Oh, not at all. We simply came to visit with you.”

He sighed. “Of course you did.”

Rarity looked up at the shelves of foliage. “It’s a marvelous tree, I think.”

“Looks’ll fool you,” he said. “It’s a double-edged sword.”

“A double edged what?”

“It’s a weapon,” Spike said. “It’s a long, sharp, pointy thing with a handle. You kind of need hands to use it.”

“Yes, that’s it.” Zaraturvara eyed him for a moment. “I don’t wish to be rude, but... what are you? Just so there’s no confusion.”

Spike puffed his chest out. “I’m a dragon!”

“A baby dragon,” Rarity said.

Zaraturvara smirked at her. “It’s not the size of the dragon in the fight... it’s the size of the fight in the dragon.”

Spike pointed a talon at him. “Hey, that’s a pretty good one! Mind if I use it?”

“You’ve really never heard it before? I think it’s older than I am.” He tilted his head. “There’s an awful lot of things you people haven’t heard of, I must say.”

Spike scratched the back of his neck. “I’m just glad to meet somebody who won’t crack a ‘short’ joke whenever I’m around.”

“Trust me,” Zaraturvara said, “in your case, smaller is better.”

“Oh yeah? What’s ‘my case’, exactly?”

“You’ve chosen to co-exist with non-dragons,” he said. “Nice catch by the way!”

Spike puffed his chest out again. “Thanks!”

Rarity pursed her lips. “Hrmph!”

“I meant you,” he said, and nodded to Rarity.

Spike’s eyes widened. “You mean I’m the nice catch?”

“Goodness yes! A dragon who isn’t going to set you on fire and swallow you whole? That’s one of the rarest things in the world. Compared to that, an ordinary unicorn is sort of a dime-a-dozen.”

There was an awkward pause.

“No-no-no!” Zaraturvara shook his head. “Oh what is wrong with my manners? I swear I meant no offence. Honestly, it just slipped out.”

She smiled back at him. “You don’t talk to a lot of people, do you?”

“Very rarely. I’m not very good at it.” He nodded to her. “You really are quite exceptional, you know. I’m just saying that your being a unicorn has nothing to do with it. You’re exceptional entirely on the basis of your own personal merits.”

“Really?” Rarity stroked a lock of her mane. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve tamed a dragon, of course. Not everyone can do that.”

“Whoa!” Spike shot to his feet and waved his hands. “Let’s not get carried away here! I’m not... I’m not tame! I’m scary! Rar!”

Zaraturvara rolled his eyes. “I didn’t say you were tame. Just that you’d been tamed. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Spike lowered his claws. “It’s... not?”

“Not at all. It’s your nature. It’s the purpose of your existence.”

“It is!?”

“That’s what a dragon is. Not scales and claws and fangs and fire... I mean, that’s what a dragon is made of. But what a dragon really is, truly, is the personification of a sin. Pride, wrath, greed, all that.”

Spike arched one eyebrow. “Whaa?”

“Tell me,” Zaraturvara said, “Do you people have stories of knights vanquishing dragons?”

Rarity and Spike nodded together, slowly.

“A knight doesn’t defeat a dragon with weapons and muscles and grunting. The knight wins because his heart is pure and his cause is just. The vanquishing of a dragon is a metaphor of virtue overcoming vice.”

Spike set his fists on his hips. “That’s just silly! Nobody ever fought a dragon with just virtue.”

Zaraturvara cleared his throat and raised his voice. “And so the King of Nerluc assaulted the Tarrasque with knights and catapults to no avail... but Saint Martha found the beast and charmed it with her hymns and prayers, and led back the tamed Tarrasque to the city. The people, terrified by the monster, attacked it when it drew nigh. But the monster offered no resistance, and died without a sound. Martha then preached to the people and converted them to Christianity. Sorry for what they had done to the tamed beast, the townspeople changed the name of their town to Tarascon in its memory.”

Rarity and Spike stared at the serpent in silence.

“Oh, come on... just look at you two! You’re the spitting image of Andromeda and the sea serpent. Zabava and Gorynych. The... that... whichever dragon Saint George slew, and the princess he rescued. Whatever her name was.” Zaraturvara nodded to each of them. “You were meant to be be together. It’s a match made in heaven!”

Spike wrung his claws together. “Does that mean I gotta be slain by some knight?”

“Don’t I get a say in any of this?” Rarity said.

“Oh don’t be so literal minded,” Zaraturvara said, ignoring Rarity. “The legend doesn’t say the dragon has to be slain. Only that it is vanquished.”

“You don’t honestly think...! The two of us would...!?” Rarity pointed at Spike. “But we’re just friends!”

Spike and Zaraturvara both stared at her, shocked.

“And people call me venomous,” Zaraturvara whispered.

“I mean... well, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just... we don’t really have anything in common.”

“Are you joking? You are the living embodiment of generosity and self-sacrifice. He is the living embodiment of greed and pride. You grow in power as you pursue virtue, and he grows in power when those around him pursue sin. You’re the perfect match! There is no mortal being you cannot either chastise or proselytize to!”

Rarity stood up and ran away from the tree, sniffling.

Spike stood up, talons clenched. “Look what you did!”

Zaraturvara watched her run away. “Figures. People ask for the truth, and what do they do when they hear it?” He shook his head.

“Well you didn’t have to hurt her!”

The serpent reared up. “Life is suffering!” he roared.

The two stared each other down for a minute. Spike sat down on the grass and crossed his arms. “You didn’t have to be mean.”

“She’s afraid of you,” he said.

Spike eyed him.

“She’s afraid of you, and herself, and what that means. Up until now it’s all been a game, even if she didn’t realize it. Now she has to face the consequences of her relationship with you, and the possibility that it might progress to the next level.”

“How do you know all this, anyways? We just met.”

“Remember when she said ‘We’re just friends’? I saw the look on her face when she saw the look on your face. That particular look could fill a novel, cover to cover. You don’t need magic or divine wisdom to see these things. It’s obvious.”

“Will it progress? The relationship, I mean.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s frightening enough that it could.”

Spike gazed up at the tree. “You said I was the embodiment of something bad, right?”

“Pride, yes. One of the deadliest of all sins.”

“So... does that make me bad? Is it my destiny to blow up castles and eat villagers?”

Zaraturvara stared at him for a moment, slack jawed. “You’re... asking me... about destiny?”

Spike’s lower lip trembled. “Am I bad?”

The serpent tugged one of the branches down, dangling a shiny apple in front of him. “I cannot tell you... but I know one way for you to find out.”

“What’s that gonna do?”

“This is the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. If you eat of the fruit of the tree, you will know. You will grow powerful. You may even become an angel, or immortal.”

“But I thought you told Fluttershy it was the tree of power everlasting.”

The snake flexed it’s coils to affect a shrug. “Same thing. Knowledge is the only kind of power that really matters. There’s knowledge, and then there’s beating people up. That’s about it.”

Spike stroked his chin. “All I gotta do is eat the fruit, huh? What’s the catch?”

“Oh, thank God! I’m glad somebody is paying attention. The catch, as you say, is that you don’t know what the catch is until after you eat it.”

Spike eyed the fruit.

Zaraturvara gently let go of the branch. “In your case, I wouldn’t recommend it. It’s overkill. But I can tell you this: God created all things with a purpose in mind. Dragons grow strong in the presence of sin and vice, but they themselves need not be evil. They are merely a chastisement and a warning to keep others on the path to righteousness.”

“That doesn’t make any sense at all. How can dragons do evil stuff, but not be evil?”

Zaraturvara paused to think. “Tell, me Spike... is it evil to make a child suffer?”

“Are you kidding!? That’s the worst! You’d have to be a monster to do that!”

“Is it evil for a mother to punish a child when they have been disobedient?”

“Well, that’s completely...” Spike froze mid sentence and stared off into space.

“It’s quite a catch, isn’t it?” The snake flexed it’s coils. “I must say, it’s nice to finally meet someone who will listen to my questions.”

“Yeah.” Spike took a deep breath, then exhaled gustily. “So you’re saying I don’t have to be evil, just cause I embody evil?”

“You embody the evil in the hearts of others. That is all.”

“Do you think I’ll end up evil anyways? Is there anything I can do about it?”

The snake worked it’s jaw back and forth. “If you ever figure that one out, you let me know, all right?”

“Yeah. I can do that.” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “Hey, listen. It’s been cool talking with you, but I gotta—”

“Right, right.” He nodded vigorously. “You’ve probably left her too long, already. You can blame me for delaying you.”

“Really? You’re cool with that?’

Zaraturvara rolled his eyes. “I’ve gotten used to it by now.”

I’ve seen the world that’s waiting for you

Pinkie Pie hopped down the dirt road, all alone, humming tunelessly. She came to the wooden gate and paused to look at the lovingly hoof-carved sign atop the archway.

Paradise Estates... why does that sound familiar? She pushed the gate open and continued along the path. I guess welcome means welcome!

She approached the end of the road but paused as voices drifted back, angry and shouting. She crept off the beaten path and peered through the wall of shrubs: there in the clearing was a massive tree with a crown shaped like the puffy white clouds that dominated the highest reaches of the sky. The branches were laden with small purple fruit. A great cloth banner hung down from one of the lower branches, displaying a vertical, vaguely-hexagonal grid of ten interconnected circles. Words from an indecipherable language adorned every curve and line: the calligraphy was fine and flowing, yet strict and orderly. Ensconced within each of the ten circles were words of power and majesty.

A fig tree...?

“Don’t you even think of blaming me for any of this!”

Pinkie Pie flinched at the angry, hissing voice. She hunkered down lower and peered through the bushes again, and saw the very same clearing her friends had all described. Hill, tree, snake... two snakes.

“Where the hell did that come from? How is this not your fault?!”

“You’re just a child, aren’t you? Even after all these years, you’re still a selfish, conceited child!”

“Selfish!? You knew from the very beginning that I had responsibilities! How is that childish?”

“What about me!? Don’t you have a responsibility to me? I’m sick and tired of staying in the shadow of that stupid tree of yours!”

“Oh, you did not just insult the tree! Don’t go there!”

“You know what? I will go there! You care more about that stupid plant than you ever did about me! We never go anywhere, we never do anything, we never meet anyone... you expect me to spend my entire life babysitting an overgrown shrub?”

“It’s more than that! You have no idea how important—”

“Oh, would you shut up already? I know it’s more important to you than I am!”

“It’s more important than either of us! Besides, it’s a home for us, isn’t it? I don’t mind being a stay at home type!”

“You call this a home!? A real home is a dry cave under a hot rock, next to a cold river! How am I supposed to live without a river? It’s barbaric!” One of the serpents dropped out of the tree and slithered across the grassy clearing. “That’s it. I’m done. We’re done.”

“What? No-no! You can’t just...” The second snake followed after her. “Just calm down! I didn’t mean any of it, really! You can’t just leave like this! Think of everything we... that we... well, think of everything!”

The female snake slithered out of the clearing and onto the dirt path, passing right by Pinkie Pie’s hiding spot: she was a huge hooded cobra with black and gold scales, except for a single golden scale in the center of her forehead. Her eyes were ringed with dark, sweeping mascara, and fine gold chains hung from piercings along the edges of her hood.

“You’ll be back!” The other serpent roared after her. “You’ll come crawling back before you even—”

She passed through the archway and slammed the gate behind her. The sound was loud, and the silence that followed was absolute. The snake in the tree stared at the dirt road, blank and dull-eyed. After a full minute, he glanced about the clearing.

Pinkie Pie slowly backed away and made her way back to the dirt path. Now’s probably not the best time for this.

The next day, Pinkie Pie made her way down the dirt path and through the gated arch. She paused at the end of the road and looked into the clearing: the serpent was hanging from the tree, just as dazed and blank-faced as yesterday.

Pinkie Pie took deep breath and stepped into the clearing.

The serpent’s head snapped to face her. “Ha! I knew you’d—” He froze as he caught sight of her.

“Hi mister snake,” she said softly.

He looked away.

Pinkie walked up the hill and sat by the tree. “Are you feeling okay?”

“What, me? Of course.” He tossed his head to one side. “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, I came to visit you yesterday, and I sort of accidentally overheard—”

“What!? No!” He shook his head. “That wasn’t...! It’s not what you...! I mean, I don’t know what you think you heard, but... really, it’s nothing.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“Embarrassed? Me!?” He pointed at himself with the tip of his tail. “What have I got to be embarrassed about? Nothing, that’s what. I’m fine. Everything’s... just fine.”

“So... do you want to talk about it?”

He looked away. “Hmph.”

Pinkie Pie listened to the forest for awhile, watching as the tension bled out of the serpent’s coils.

“What was her name?”

“Renenutet,” he said. “Or Wadjet, or whatever the hell she’s calling herself now. I didn’t want her to change it, but she wouldn’t listen.”

“I think it’s a beautiful name.”

“Try telling her that. These days all she cares about is her career.” He rolled his eyes. “Irresponsible? Hah.”

“So... what are your responsibilities?”

“I guard the tree. What else would I be doing here?”

“So you stop people from eating the fruit? Is that it?”

“Stop them?” He glowered at her. “You just don’t have a clue, do you?”

Pinkie Pie looked up at him, serenely.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m kind of in a bad... sorry. That was unfair of me.”

Pinkie Pie cleared her throat. “I’ll never find anyone else, and nobody will ever love me.”

The serpent stared at her. “What?”

“It’s what you’re thinking right now. It’s what everybody thinks at a time like this.” She stood up and touched his cheek. “It’s okay to be hurt. But it’s not okay to give up all hope for the future. And it’s definitely not okay to blame yourself for everything.”

“Blame... myself?”

“Well yeah!” Pinkie Pie said, smiling. “Nothing is ever entirely your fault. Sometimes these things just happen. Sometimes people blame you, and sometimes you deserve it, but you can’t let it ruin your whole life.”

The serpent darted forward and leaned against her neck, sobbing uncontrollably. Pinkie Pie flinched, but managed to keep from running away.

“You have no idea... how much I’ve wanted to hear that! You... you wouldn’t believe the things I’ve done... all the things I’ve been blamed for! So... so much...!”

“There there,” she said and patted the back of his neck. “Let it all out. There ya go.”

After a minute or so he pulled back and blew his nose. “Okay. Now I’m embarrassed.”

“That’s okay,” she said. “It’s allowed.”

He wiped his tear-streaked cheek against the side of one of his coils. “She’s really not coming back, is she? It’s really over.”

“That’s the wrong thing to worry about. You need to get ahold of yourself, whether she comes back or not. You need to take control of your life.”

“Control? Hah!” He pointed at the clearing. “When have I ever had any control over anything that happens to me? I’ve been a slave to this garden. Always have been, always will be. How am I supposed to change that?”

“You could leave.”

“Leave!? Are you insane? This is my entire purpose in life! It’s the reason for my existence!”

“Really? Says who?”

“God!” The snake shouted. “God Almighty Himself created me to watch over this tree, and I’ll be damned—literally and figuratively—if I shirk my one and only God-given responsibility!”

Pinkie Pie stared at the snake, blankly.

The serpent sighed, exasperated. “You don’t have the slightest clue who God is, do you?”

She tilted her head. “Do you?”

“What?”

“Do you know who God is? He seems pretty important to you, but do you really understand him?”

“Well no, of course not. He’s utterly unknowable.”

“Then do you think, maybe, it might be just a little... ” Pinkie Pie wobbled her head back and forth. “I dunno... arrogant to say you know exactly what he’s thinkin’?”

The snake stared at her for a moment. His eyes flitted about, ever so slightly.

“Well tie me in a sheepshank,” he muttered. “Putting your own words in the big guy’s mouth is one of the biggest no-no’s there is, and I didn’t even... oh wow. I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”

“This God fellow... what’s he like?”

“Well, I don’t know. Nobody does. He’s unknowable.” He frowned. “Well that’s not exactly true... he’s like any artist: you can learn about him by studying his works. And he does give us a few hints now and then, when he thinks we need it.”

“Is he the angry sort? Will he be mad at you if you make a mistake?”

“Oh, heavens no. He’ll forgive anything. At all. He has a rep for being a real old-testament fire-and-brimstone sort, but it all just a misconcep... hey, wait a second. Why are you so curious about this all of a sudden?”

“Come with me!” Pinkie Pie stood up and nodded to the dirt path. “I know a place that has the best milkshakes ever. You’d love ’em!”

“Milkshakes? Don’t be silly. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Why not?”

“I must guard the tree. It’s my duty.”

“Is that really what he said? Were those his exact words?”

“Yes.” He frowned. “Well... no. But—”

“Let’s be honest,” Pinkie Pie said. “It’s not your job to prevent people from eating the fruit, is it?”

“What? No! Yes! I mean...” He shook his head. “It’s not that simple. Nothing is ever that simple.”

“If you really wanted to keep people out, you’d take down the sign and lock the gate.”

The snake stared at her. “There’s a gate?”

“Right over there. Come on! Don’t you deserve to live a little? To have your own life?”

“It’s not my choice. It’s as simple as that.”

Pinkie Pie turned to give him her full and undivided attention. “What does God want for you?”

“I’m... not comfortable answering that question. Can we please talk about something else?”

Pinkie Pie pursed her lips.

“Fine, fine. As far as I know, the purpose of mortal life is to... well... worship God and sing of his praises.”

Pinkie Pie arched an eyebrow.

“No-no-no, it’s not like that! I know it makes him seem incredibly self centered and arrogant and narcissistic and it’s nothing like that at all and people are always getting confused about that sort of thing and I can’t believe I’m telling you all this! Can we please just change the subject? It’s not my job to impart divine wisdom! There’s a reason I leave that sort of thing to the professionals!”

“So he wants you to know about him?” Pinkie tilted her head. “How can you do that if he’s unknowable?”

“Well, as I said: by studying his works. And through the teachings of his divine messengers.”

“Well I don’t see any divine messengers here.” She nodded back to the dirt path. “Why don’t we go study his works for a while?”

The serpent bit his lip, then glanced at the tree. “But what about—”

“Ut-ut-ut!” She waggled a hoof at him. “If you’re going to play the what-if game, then play it all the way through to the end. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Somebody could wander into the garden while I’m gone.”

“And?”

“And I wouldn’t be here to... well, to...”

“Is it your job to stop them from eating the fruit?”

“No, actually. But I do end up turning most folks away.”

“And if somepony really, truly wanted to eat it—if they’re totally determined—is there anything you can really do to stop them?”

He worked his jaw. “I suppose not. I mean, I guess I could stop them physically... but that would totally defeat the purpose. It’s supposed to be a moral conundrum. Not a wrestling match.”

“And if somebody does eat the fruit, will God be angry at you?”

“God doesn’t get angry. Not as you know it, at least. He’s above such petty things. There is vengeance, yes, and justice... but not anger.”

“Will he forgive you?”

“Of course he will. God forgives all, without exception. Well, with one exception... but that’s one of those funny catch-twenty-twos. It’s hardly his fault.”

Pinkie Pie walked over and gave his head a gentle tug. “Come on! There’s a whole world out there just waiting to be explored, all full of wonderful and amazing things! Why would God put you in the world if he didn’t want you to experience it? You deserve to learn and grow, don’t you?”

He followed after her, glancing at the tree. “But... but...!”

“If he gave you this job, he must trust you to do it well. Would you rather blindly obey, or use your own judgment?”

“Well... it is important to obey the spirit of the law, instead of just the letter... and actions are more important than words...”

“There you go! You need to stop making decisions based on what you’re afraid of. It’s okay to make mistakes, as long as you learn from them. It’s much worse to do nothing at all, forever and ever!”

“I guess... yeah. Slothfulness is pretty bad.”

The serpent’s body snapped taut, yanking Pinkie Pie back a step. She looked back at the very tip of his tail, still coiled around the base of the tree.

“I can’t carry you all the way,” she said. “You have to take the first step yourself.”

“Step? I don’t have feet. Or legs.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be so dang literal minded.”

He wriggled in place for a moment. “Look, I don’t think this is such a good idea after all.”

“That’s the catch,” she said. “You won’t know if something will work out until you go ahead and try it. There’s no other way.” She set a hoof under his chin and tilted his head up. “But I have been there, and I’ve seen the world that’s waiting for you... and baby, you ain’t seen nuthin’ yet!”

“Really?”

“You have no idea how amazing and wonderful it is out there! And if you stay in this little clearing forever, you’ll never know.” She took a step backwards. “But that’s your decision. I can’t make it for you.”

“A whole world, huh?”

“Yup!”

“Amazing, huh?”

“Oh, yeah. Big time. If this God fellow really did make the whole world, He definitely knew what he was doing.”

The serpent reared its head up. After a moment, he slithered forward. He looked back at the tip of his tail, no longer touching the tree.

“Whoa.”

“The road is this-a-way. Come on!” Pinkie Pie hopped to the edge of the clearing. “You won’t regret it, I promise!”

“I hope not.” The serpent slithered after her, eyes darting about. “Something about this just seems... I dunno. Wrong, somehow.”

The wisest fool I’ve ever met

Pinkie Pie hopped down Ponyville’s Main Street with a broad smile and a tuneless hum. Everypony they passed gasped in shock and ran away at a gallop, fleeing into buildings or through alleys. Doors slammed shut, window shutters fell into place, and “closed” signs appeared in storefronts.

“Can’t say I find this particularly surprising,” the serpent said. “Ponies and serpents, after all.”

“They just need to get to know you, that’s all! Put on a smile and be on your best behavior, and I’m sure they’ll warm right up.”

“Yeah. Sure.” He watched as a mare dragged two small children out of the street and ran away screaming. “Look, is this going to be a problem?”

“Well it’s not like there’s anything you can do about it. You are what you are.”

“Actually, I can do something about it. I don’t have to appear as a serpent.”

“Huh?” Pinkie Pie stopped hopping. “But that’s what you are, right? A snake.”

“There’s no law that says I have to be. It’s like the tree... sometimes it’s apples, and sometimes it’s figs or pomegranates. It’s taken on many forms throughout the ages. As have I. The physical form isn’t as important as the underlying meaning.”

“So you can change what you are?”

“I get it from my father’s side, actually. Do you think it would startle anybody? I mean, you know... shape-changers can be pretty startling if you’re not expecting them.”

She looked at the deserted street around them. “I really don’t think it’s going to be a problem. So how exactly do you—”

She looked back and saw a stag, sleek and athletic, with a sheath of glittering ruby scales along it’s neck and back. It’s head was a cross between that of a dragon and a serpent, and a pair of long, twisting horns swept from the back of it’s head.

“Oh-mi-gosh! Is that you, mister snake?”

“It is I, yes.” He nodded his head and bent one knee, elegant and graceful. “Is this better?”

“Oh... wow, yeah. You look... well, I mean... just wow!” Pinkie Pie stared at him for a moment. “So I guess I can’t call you mister snake anymore. What are you?”

“A quilin, actually. You wouldn’t be familiar with them.”

“If I’d seen one before, I’d definitely remember it. You look amazing, mister quilin!”

“Zaraturvara, if you please.”

"Zara... huh?"

“That’s my name. I know it’s kind of a mouthful... you can just call me mister snake if you like. I won’t mind.”

She smiled at him. “Zaraturvara... I think it’s beautiful name. It sounds musical!”

“Thank you.” he shuffled his hooves: the cloven hooves of a deer. “So, where were we going?”

“Right, right!”

Pinkie Pie and Zaraturvara sat at a patio table together, waiting quietly. A whole crowd of ponies had gathered by the road to stare at the shimmering, ruby-scaled newcomer. Eventually, a waiter approached the table and set out a pair of tall glasses filled with foamy white liquid.

Pinkie Pie stuck a bendy-straw in each of them and turned one to face him. “Here you go!”

Zaraturvara sipped at the straw. “Thank you.”

“So, what do quilins do, exactly?”

“They’re sacred creatures that bring serenity and good fortune, and only the dragon and the phoenix are held in higher regard. They’re pretty ferocious looking but utterly peaceful... they only attack the wicked, and will never willingly harm any living thing no matter how small.” He gripped the straw in his cloven hoof and stirred his drink. “They appear most often to benevolent rulers and wise sages. In fact, the birth of the great Confucius was foretold by the appearance of a quilin.”

“Wow!” Pinkie Pie leaned her elbows on the table. “Who’s that?”

“You wouldn’t know him, but he was very wise. He was a great teacher who supported the cause of peace and enlightenment. Nobody can really decide if Confucianism is a religion or a philosophy... that’s what I love about it.” He sipped from his drink. “You know I’m not actually a quilin. Not really.”

“You could always pretend to be one. Like make believe.”

“Oh no you don’t. That’s a good way to get into great deal of trouble, even by my standards. The only reason I’m assuming this form at all is because nobody within a thousand leagues has the slightest clue what they are.”

“Well, you could still do nice things for ponies, right? You could be all peaceful and stuff.”

“People don’t care about what you really are on the inside. I used to think that, but it’s just too much to ask of people. That’s not the way the world works.” He sighed. “I mean, really... a quilin shows up to herald the birth of a great sage, and they get treated like sacred royalty for the rest of recorded history. But what about me? What happens when I try to impart wisdom to the primitive and ignorant? How do I go down in history? Ask me if that’s fair, why don’t you?”

“Sorry,” she said.

They sipped at their drinks and ignored the constant flow of gawking passersby.

“What’d you do?” she said.

“Pardon?”

“It sounds like you got in trouble for something. What was it all about?”

“I let somebody eat of the fruit of the tree of knowledge. And then she let somebody else eat of the fruit of the tree and it all went downhill from there. Once that can of worms was opened, there was no closing it. Everybody thinks I tricked her into it, but she was the one who brought it up in the first place. She asked me about the tree, and I called it like I saw it. That’s it.” He tapped the table. “I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone about this. Not once. I complain about it all the time, but it’s not the same as just talking.”

“How much trouble did you get into?”

“Not much. Not nearly as much as the stories would have you believe. What burns me up is the reputation I get... the stories people tell.” He leaned on the table and stroked the edge of his cup. “It’s not like any of them were there. They can’t imagine there might have been unusual circumstances. I can’t stand being cast as a black-and-white person.”

“Wow,” she said. “You’re all complex and stuff.”

“It’s what defines me. People need to know that nothing is ever as simple as it seems.”

“And kinda cute, too!”

He jerked his head up. “What?”

“Well, yeah. Why do you think everypony’s staring at you?”

He looked at the road by the patio table. The crowd of mares immediately looked away, whispering and giggling.

“Walking around is nice,” Pinkie Pie said, “but we ought to do something special. It’s your one day off, so why don’t you pick?”

“I can’t really think of anything, off the top of my...” he straightened up in his seat. “Actually, some music would be nice. Does music exist here?”

“Does it ever! What kind do you like?”

“Violin music. I haven’t heard a violin in ages.”

She grinned at him. “I know just the place.”

Later that evening Pinkie Pie stumbled out of Ponyville’s most popular tea-house, leaning against Zaraturvara’s shoulder and sobbing uncontrollably. They walked all the way down main street and through sweet Apple Acres, and only when they reached the edge of the everfree forest did she pause to blow her nose on a lace kerchief.

“Sorry,” he said. “I probably should have picked something a little happier.”

She looked up at him. “What? Oh, no! That was the best sad music ever. It’s one of my favorites! Sometimes it’s good to be sad, because when you stop being sad it makes the happy times even happier.”

He watched her for a time, lost in thought.

“What? Is there something on my face?”

He took a fresh lace kerchief and dabbed her runny nose one last time. “Pinkie Pie. I think you are, without a doubt, the wisest fool I’ve ever met. And let me tell you: I’ve dealt with some first-class fools.”

“Aww! You’re just saying that.”

“I don’t ‘just say’ anything. It’s true. And I had a perfectly marvelous time.”

“Really? I hope it wasn’t too boring.”

“That was some of the best violin music I’ve ever heard, and I’m quite the connoisseur.”

“You’re sure you wouldn’t have preferred a party or something?”

“I don’t really like crowds. It was nice just walking and seeing the sights.” He looked at the village rooftops in the distance. “Though it’s a shame we never danced. People say I’m a pretty good dancer.”

She smiled up at him. “We could always go out again, sometime. Just the two of us. Dancing.”

“Out?”

“No, I mean... not out out! Not going out! That’s not what I...” She fussed with her mane. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong. I mean, we could just go and... y’know... dance. Would you like that?”

“Wow. That would be... really weird, wouldn’t it?”

They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment.

Pinkie Pie cleared her throat and nodded to the woods. “So here we are. At your place.”

“Yeah.” He smiled at her for a moment, but quickly regained his composure. “Listen. I just broke up with somebody, very recently... and... I wouldn’t want you to...”

“Oh, right. That.”

“I think I have to finish what I started, you know? I’m kind of a mess right now, and I need to sort myself out before I start anything else. I wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“No, that’s... I understand. Totally.”

“You’re not angry at me?”

She touched his cheek. “You’re being honest with me. I appreciate it.”

“Thank you for understanding. I really did have a fantastic day, you know.”

“Me too.” She glanced into the forest. “Hey, do you mind if I walk with you to the clearing? I might as well pick up those baskets my friends left behind.”

“Of course. It’s not far.”

They walked into the forest and, after only a few steps, came to the gated archway. He opened the gate and stood aside, waiting for her to pass.

“Aww! Just like a true gentle-colt!”

“I may as well get some use out of my manners.”

They came to the edge of the clearing and froze, stock still, as they heard a chorus of shouting, arguing voices. There were three colorful young fillies at the foot of the tree, rolling around on the grass and wrestling with each other.

“I saw that one first! Gimme gimme!”

“Nuh uh! Nuh uh! Mine, mine mine!”

Zaraturvara stamped a cloven hoof and roared with the voice of a dragon. “What the hell is going on in here!?”

The three fillies spun to look at him, frozen in fear. Their mouths were all stuffed full of fruits—all shapes and colors—and juice and saliva dribbled down their chins.

“It was her idea!” they said, each pointing at the next.

Pinkie Pie ran over to them, wide eyed. “Oh, you silly fillies! What have you done? What were you thinking!?”

Sweetie Belle’s lower lip trembled. “But the sign said welcome!”

“Don’t you talk with your mouth full! How did you three even find this place!?”

Applebloom rubbed the back of her neck. “I heard Applejack talking about the snake and the tree, and we just wanted a quick peek to see what all the fuss was about. I was with her when she got lost, so I thought—”

“No, you didn’t! You didn’t think at all! Why would you ever go into the forest at night without a grown-up to go looking for a giant snake!?” She looked back at Zaraturvara. “I am so incredibly sorry about this!”

Zaraturvara walked to the top of the hill in a daze. “My first day off in three and a half billion years... and this.”

Pinkie Pie began shepherding the fillies away from the tree. “We’re so very sorry about this. I swear it won’t ever happen again.”

“Well you’re right about that,” he said.

“We didn’t mean to!” Scootaloo said. “We didn’t know the tree was important! Honest!”

“Yeah,” Zaraturvara muttered, “because that excuse worked so well the first time.”

Pinkie Pie pushed the fillies behind her. “Please oh please don’t blame them! It wasn’t their fault, honest!”

“You’re right,” he said with a scowl. “It wasn’t their fault at all.”

They stared at each other for awhile.

“What’s gonna happen?” Applebloom whimpered.

“To you?” he said. “You three are going back to your homes to tell your families that you wandered into a dangerous forest alone, at night, without asking permission. And from this day forward, you will honor your fathers and mothers, that it may go well with you and that you may live long in the land.”

Scootaloo furrowed her eyebrows. “Wha?”

He loomed over them, ominously. “And if you do not honor your fathers and mothers, and remain disobedient children, you will be gobbled up by a giant snake. Things will not go well with you, and you will most certainly not live long in the land. Are we clear?”

All three fillies stared up at him, wide eyed.

“Good. Now go and wait by the edge of the clearing.”

They darted off.

“I’m so sorry,” Pinkie Pie said.

“They’ll be fine. The fruit of the tree of knowledge won’t have any effect on a child. They’re innocent, so they already know all that stuff.”

“They... do?”

“It’s the grownups who forget and need to be reminded. The miracle of the tree lies in the coexistence of knowledge and innocence.”

“So nothing bad will happen? You won’t get into trouble?”

“Not this time, no.”

She sighed. “Talk about lucky.”

“More like a wakeup call.” He looked back at the tree. “He works in mysterious ways.”

“Who does?”

He sighed. “I’d better get back to the... y’know.”

“Right, the tree.”

“Yeah. That.”

“So, can we hang out again? Do you think we could go dancing sometime?”

He worked his jaw. “I think that would be a bad idea. I have responsibilities.”

“That’s cool. I understand.” She took up the wicker baskets and the red-and-white checkered cloths. “Do you regret it?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t. But I did enjoy it. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

She walked down the hill, but paused to look back at the tree. Zaraturvara, a snake once more, hung from the lower branches just as he had when she’d first seen him. She remembered reading that serpents could sit perfectly still for days on end, waiting for prey to wander past... and if none did, they’d simply starve to death where they sat. Never moving. Never blinking. She wasn’t sure if it was true... but looking at him now, she could believe it might be.

The devil would lie

“Doesn’t it bother anypony in the slightest that there’s a gi-normous snake livin’ right on our doorsteps?”

Everypony in the library looked up at Applejack. Nopony said anything.

“Oh, come on! Shouldn’t we do something to get rid of ’em?”

“Why?” said Twilight Sparkle. “He’s not likely to leave his tree for any reason. Probably territorial.”

“He’s rude,” Fluttershy said, “but it’s not like he’s dangerous. All he does is talk about creepy stuff.”

Rainbow Dash turned a page in her book. “He’s kind of a putz if you ask me.”

“I don’t care if he’s a putz,” Applejack said, “I care if he’s up to something! He’s covered in trouble like it’s goin’ out of style!”

“What sort of trouble?”

“Well, like... okay, I don’t have the faintest clue. But he’s up to something for sure and it jest can’t be good.”

“He’s just a load of hot air,” Rainbow Dash grumbled. “He doesn’t have the guts to actually do anything.”

“I think he’s lonely,” said Pinkie Pie. “I get the feeling he’s always been that way. Like he’s seen the whole world go by, but he’s never been a part of it. He’s never gotten the chance to make a real difference.” She gazed out of a window. “...Except once.”

Applejack stared at her. “You’ve got a crush on ’em, don’t you!?”

Pinkie Pie sat up straight. “What!? No! Don’t be silly!”

“That no good, greasy varmint’s wormed his way right into your heart, hasn’t he? Well you’d best get it into your head that he’s no good for anypony!”

Rarity stood up and locked eyes with Applejack. “Would you please relax?”

Applejack looked away and pawed at the floor.

“You’re blowing this completely out of proportion, and frankly, it’s embarrassing to watch. Fluttershy was right: he’s just your average, everyday talking snake in an apple tree and there’s nothing special about that. You’ve simply got to get over your fears.”

“Fears!?” Applejack set a hoof on her chest. “Me? Afraid? Of all the—!”

“If you aren’t afraid of him, then why don’t you go and deal with him yourself? You’re the only pony here who hasn’t met him yet, and yet you’re the one who’s complaining the loudest.”

Applejack frowned at her. “I did meet ’em.”

“For all of three seconds,” Rainbow Dash said, “and you ran away screaming like a little baby.”

“Well first impressions are usually right, aren’t they?”

“No,” said Rarity, “They really aren’t.”

Applejack turned and stormed out of the library.

“Finally,” Rainbow Dash said, “some peace and quiet.”

Pinkie Pie looked away from her window. “Do you think we should go with her?”

“Nah,” Dash said. “She’s not going anywhere near the thing. She’s just a big scaredy cat around snakes. Give ’er some time to cool off and she’ll forget all about it by the end of the week.”

Fluttershy glanced at the door, still ajar. “You don’t think she’ll do anything hasty, do you?”

“Hasty?” Rainbow Dash snuggled back into her beanbag chair and turned the page of her book. “This is Applejack we’re talking about.”

Applejack tromped down the dirt road at the edge of the everfree forest and shoved open the rickety wooden gate. She marched into the clearing, straight up the hill, and stopped right next to the tree.

“Are you there, mister snake?” She slammed a hoof against the trunk. “I know yer up there somewhere. I gotta have words with you.”

A prickle ran up her spine as a shadow slid down the trunk of the tree. A faint hissing lowered into place behind her. She turned around and met the serpent eye to eye.

She took a deep breath and flexed her shoulders. “Ah’m back.”

“And I’m here,” he said.

“Right. Well. About that.”

“Yes?”

“I wanna know what yer deal is. And no funny business.”

“I guard the tree.”

“And what’s so special about this tree, then? Why can’t you go find some other place to live?”

“It’s the tree of knowledge. It’s completely and utterly unique.”

“Well, go on. Shoo. We don’t want you around here no more.”

“What am I supposed to do? Pick up my tree and take it with me?”

She nodded. “It just so happens that I run an orchard, and we know all about the proper way to relocate a healthy tree. We can have it done in a thrice.”

“A fellow arboriculturalist, are we? Well I appreciate the offer, but this particular tree is both unyielding and immutable. It cannot be relocated.” He affected a shrug. “Though the garden can be.”

“The... what? The garden?”

“Yes. The garden itself moves about on occasion.”

“Well how does that work?”

“I don’t know. It moves on it’s own.”

Applejack glowered at the serpent.

“Now you listen here. I know you weren’t here a week ago, which means you moved this tree somehow... and that means you can move it away. And I’m not leavin’ this spot until you do that! I don’t care what it takes to convince you.”

“Convince me?”

“I’m not an unreasonable sort. I’m perfectly willin’ to cut a deal.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of the serpent’s mouth. “Well this just got very interesting.”

“Well? Are we dealin’ or not?”

“I think we can deal. But I hope you realize just what you’re getting into here. I’m somewhat known for being a difficult dealer.”

She nodded, briskly. “Just as long as you stick to your end of the bargain, that’s all that matters to me.”

“All right.” He nodded to the tree. “Eat of the tree. Then I’ll leave.”

She frowned at him. “That’s all?”

“That’s all. Take it or leave it.”

She eyed the diverse array of fruits hanging from the branches: all different shapes, sizes and colors. “Which one?”

“That’s up to you.”

“What’s yer game? What happens if I eat ’em?”

“Not my problem.”

She glared at him. “Yer gonna be straight with me from start to finish. Tell me what happens if I eat the fruit.”

“This is the tree of knowledge... the knowledge of good and evil.”

“And what’s that mean, exactly?”

The serpent watched her for a moment.

“Tell me, Miss Applejack. Is it wrong to steal?”

“What the hey kind of question is that? Of course it is!”

“What if a building were burning down? Would you steal water from your neighbor’s river to quench the fire? Do you think that would be wrong?”

Applejack glared at him. “Don’t you play them fancy mind games with me.”

“You don’t think!” he snapped. “You don’t think about it, because you’re not equipped to! And until you eat of the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, you never will.”

“You really believe that?” she pointed up. “That just eating a piece of fruit will change the way I think?”

“It’s a metaphor,” he said, “but the change it inflicts upon you is very real.”

“How long will it last?”

“It will last until you die, and further still into the eternity that awaits you. And it will go on to affect your children’s children’s children, so on and so forth.”

“Eternity!?”

“Oh, you didn’t know? You can live on after death. The immortality of the soul cannot be quenched by mere physical threats or hardships. A paradise awaits you in the world beyond.” He tilted his head. “That’s the gimmick, you see.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, there.” Applejack took a step back. “Are you sayin’ this tree is gonna do something to me... after I die?”

“Yes. That’s the entire point.”

“But nothing happens after you die. You just disappear. Gone. Poof.”

“At the moment, yes.” The serpent’s voice softened. “But it doesn’t have to be that way.”

Applejack’s eyes flicked up to the branches. “This is crazy. You’re crazy.”

“But what if I’m right?”

“But it’s crazy.”

“Then what if I’m crazy and right? What then? Just... use your imagination this one time. Please. If what I’ve said is true, what would your decision be?”

Applejack bit her lip. “Well how should I know? What if you’re trying to trick me or somethin’?”

“So what if I am?”

Applejack walked in a tiny circle, muttering to herself. “Okay... if the tree is good, then... no, that’s not right. But what if it’s...I can’t believe I’m even thinking about this!”

“Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I need to talk to the princess. They’ll know what to do.”

“Cheating is lying, and lying is wrong.”

“What? Did you call me cheater!?”

“This princess of yours has been making all your moral decisions for you. She’s controlled every aspect of your civilization for as long as you can remember, and because of this you’ve never had to think about anything important.”

“But... but they’re good ponies! They know what’s best!”

“You are extraordinarily fortunate to have fallen into the clutches of such wise and benevolent dictators, but that does not change what they are.”

Applejack stared at the snake, aghast.

“You’ve never thought about these things before,” he said, “because you lack the capacity to know good and evil.”

“Now just... just hold on there.” Applejack removed her hat and scrunched her eyes shut. “If... the tree... will let me know... good and evil...”

“Yes?”

“Then I’ll be able to tell if the tree itself is good or evil. I’ll know if you’re good or evil.”

“...And?”

“Are you saying that this fruit is the only thing that can help me figure that out?”

“There is no other path to the knowledge of good and evil. Of course, the tree has taken on many shapes and forms over the ages... but it all boils down to the same thing in the end.”

“Then I can’t know,” she said. “I can’t know if I should eat the fruit until after I’ve already eaten it.”

The snake smiled broadly. “We have a breakthrough! Oh, this is magnificent! You have no idea how proud of you I am right now!”

“Well, great. That’s just great. I can’t win.”

“This isn’t a game,” he said. “Think of it as an opportunity. You don’t win or lose those.”

“So take it or leave it? That’s the deal?”

“Pretty much.”

Applejack stared up at the fruit for some time.

“Knowledge of good and evil, huh? Well, ah reckon it’s mighty important to know right from wrong. We’d all be livin’ in caves and eatin’ crabgrass if it weren’t for that sort of thing. I’m not really seein’ any downside to all this.”

“Does this mean you’ve made your decision?”

“Might as well get it over with, ah suppose. Gimme a fruit before I come to my senses.”

“Which one?”

“Well, aren’t they all the same?”

“Quite the opposite: They are all unique. One of these fruits—and only one—will grant you power everlasting.”

“What about the rest?”

“Death,” he said.

Applejack’s eyes shot wide open. “That wasn’t part of the deal! There must be hundreds of ’em up there!”

“It’s not part of any deal. It’s just the way things are.”

“You’re mad as a jackrabbit in july if you think I’ll risk dyin’ just to get you offa my doorstep!”

“It’s not about me. It’s not even about you.” He slithered out of the tree and coiled on the ground around her hooves. “How important is the truth? How far would you go to find it? Could you live in a world knowing you were incapable of telling fact from false? Right from wrong? Would such a world be worth living in?”

Applejack leaned away from him as he loomed closer, and a droplet of sweat trickled down her brow.

“Some people really do think the truth is worth dying for. Or would you rather live in ignorance?”

“I can tell when folks are lying to me, you know. I can tell every time. So why can’t I read you? Yer like a blank page to me. That’s never happened before.”

“That would be cheating. You need to do this yourself.”

Applejack gazed up at the branches, and at the hundreds of colorful shapes. Her eyes wandered between them, back and forth, dizzy with thought. Her eyes settled on a shining, golden apple and her vision cleared all at once.

“That one.”

The snake’s body slipped underneath her and hoisted her up into the air, her nose inches from the golden apple. She stared at it’s shiny surface and saw a reflection of her own face.

“You can still turn away,” the snake said. “You can still decide not to eat it.”

She squinted at him. “Has that ever worked? Has anypony ever changed their mind at the very last second?”

He shook his head. “Not even once.”

Applejack snatched the apple in her teeth, tore it off the stem, and tossed it into her mouth whole. The snake lowered her back to the ground and waited patiently as she chewed and swallowed. Several minutes passed as she stared off into space.

“Well?”

Applejack looked at him, askance. “Are you... the devil?”

“The devil is a concept that encompasses a variety of very different—”

“Answer me! Are you?”

“The devil would lie, and anyone else would tell the truth. You’d get the same answer either way.”

Her eyes flicked over him, trembling. “You’re not evil.”

He arched his eyebrows. “Really?”

“You’re not good, either. You’re neither.”

“Oh... well.” He swallowed. “That’s a little disappointing, actually. But I suppose I can live with it.”

“I picked the wrong fruit, didn’t I? Why didn’t it kill me?”

“Did you think you’d keel over on the spot? That’s a little melodramatic, don’t you think?”

“No, no! This is serious! I picked the wrong fruit!” She frowned. “No... wait. The wrong fruit was the right fruit. I’m gonna die of old age, aren’t I? Just like everybody else?”

“Indeed.”

“But... but that’s horrible! You can’t just... you can’t just let me die like that! What’s gonna happen to me then, huh?” She walked in place, glancing left and right. “No, I mean... I’m actually going to die! It’s really gonna happen, and there’s nothin’ I can do about it! I don’t even know how or when it’s gonna happen: it could be a hundred years from now, or it could happen tomorrow!”

“Look, I know it’s a lot to take in all at once, but there’s—”

“Aahhh! All my friends are gonna die too, aren’t they? All of ’em! Either I gotta watch them die, or they gotta watch me die! I don’t know which would be worse! And what about my family? I can’t just leave little Applebloom all alone, without a big sister! She’d be—”

“Okay, maybe... one of us needs a little nap or something.”

She shoved her face up against his, spitting and snarling. “This is no time fer nappin! I’m dyin’ a little bit every second and theres absolutely nothin’ I can do about it!”

He reared up above her. “Would you settle down, already!?”

Applejack clenched her jaw tight. Tears trickled down her face. “I wanna go back. Back to the way things were.”

Zaraturvara slowly shook his head. “It’s always been this way. You just didn’t know it.”

“Well I don’t wanna know anymore.” She curled up on the ground and sniffled. “It’s too big... it’s just too big.”

“You want my advice? If you try and swallow it all at once, you’ll go crazy. Give it time. Visit your friends. They’ll give you everything you need.”

She wiped the tears from her eyes and looked up at the tree. “Yer a liar, ya know that? This isn’t how it was supposed to be. Ya lied to me.”

“Nothing I said was—”

“You lied right to my face! You said it’d let me tell the difference between good and evil, but I can’t! It’s even more muddled up now than it ever was before!”

“I never said it would help you tell the difference. Only that it would show you that there is a difference. That good exists, and evil exists, and the two can intermingle if you allow it.” He set her hat back on her head. “That is the task that lies before you now. You must learn to differentiate between good and evil. Don’t concern yourself too much with finding the right answers... worry about finding the right questions.”

“How’m I supposed to do that, huh?”

“It’ll come to you. Give it time.”

“What am I supposed to do when that happens?”

The snake paused to consider. When he spoke, he chose his words with great care. “I’d suggest... you explain everything to your friends. They will understand. The princesses as well: I expect they’ve been looking forward to this day for a long time.”

“But how can I explain any of this? How can I get them to understand something so... big? I thought only the fruit of the tree could do that.”

“You are the tree now,” he said with a smile. “And you might want to buy some comfortable shoes. You and your friends are going to be doing a great deal of walking.”