The bookshelf was the most impressive feature in Apple Bloom's study.
It was mounted on the wall directly to the right of the main door. Unlike the more popular wooden variety, this shelf was constructed from silvery-red dragon scales that gleamed hauntingly in the light. Carved into either side were two apple halves. If one were to look at the bottom, they would have seen a black and white photograph of two smiling Earth Ponies, one with her light mane tied into a ponytail and the other, a stallion, holding a stuffed doll that resembled a donkey in his mouth.
Apple Bloom called it her “Ego Shelf”, referring to its contents.
The Blank Flank Theory by Apple Bloom.
Cutie Mark Conundrums by Apple Bloom.
Late-Bloomers vs. Never-Bloomers by Apple Bloom (foreword by Big Macintosh).
There were many more, but Apple Bloom had forgotten their names. She never thought of titles or anything fancy when she wrote. She simply wrote, sending her thoughts to paper. Somewhere along that line, a sentence of speculation became a best-selling book about ponies who had never gotten their Cutie Marks.
“I'm not as rich as those fancy city ponies who own their own businesses,” Apple Bloom had once stated at a book-signing. “But I did something nopony has ever attempted. Ain't that worth something?”
Apparently, it was worth quite a few bits and three literature awards.

Scootaloo had never learned to knock.
Years had gone past and she had never bothered to knock on the door to Apple Bloom's office. Nor had she ever had the courtesy to send a warning message to her long-time friend before she visited. It was rude, but her comrades got used to her ill-mannered approach to visits.
Apple Bloom didn't even look up when Scootaloo kicked open the office door.
“Yo, AB,” the pegasus greeted her brightly. “Are we going out for cider tonight or are you too busy being an egghead?”
She knew the answer, but she preferred hearing it straight from her friend's mouth.
“Sorry, Scoots. Work to do.”
Scootaloo half-turned, a delighted smile on her features.
“I'll just tell Sweetie Be-- Huh?”
She must have heard incorrectly. That was the only excuse for it. It was laughable to imagine that Apple Bloom would say....
“I can't go out for cider tonight. I have....“egghead stuff” to do.”
She had been writing with the use of a specially made “bracelet” that was attached to her hoof. Fastened to the bracelet was a quill, which she carefully guided across the paper. It was her own innovation, but she didn't use it often. She normally entrusted writing to her unicorn assistant, whom she would dictate to. However, she was doing it herself when Scootaloo barged in. Wary of illegibility, she was shaping the letters with a carefulness that would have made Rarity proud.
“You're....you're not serious,” Scootaloo uttered, fabricating a laugh. “Good one, AB! But seriously, what time should we meet? Sweetie Belle doesn't get off work until....”
Apple Bloom again lifted the pencil from the page. Her face was completely serious, which was unlike her. Normally, even in times when she had to be stern, her expression was at least slightly playful. For once, there was only severity.
“Scoots, no drinks tonight. I. Have. To. Work.”
Scootaloo shook her head as if she didn't comprehend the straightforward message. In a way, she didn't.
“Work? You? Come on, AB! You work on your books whenever and you do your research whenever. Don't give me that stupid “work” excuse. Look, I promise Sweetie isn't bringing some guy this time. It'll just be the three of us.”
Apple Bloom wished she could tell Scootaloo that neither her work nor her writing happened “whenever”. It operated according to a carefully arranged schedule that balanced work with her social life. But this was neither the time nor the place to discuss the intricates of agendas with somepony likely to fall asleep at the very mention of them.
“This isn't just “work”. It's going to be my last book ever and I want it to be perfect. There's no point in finishing something if you don't say goodbye.”
She once again returned the pencil to her mouth and continued writing.
Scootaloo looked astonished, but it wasn't the explanation that shocked her. It was that little tidbit of information that Apple Bloom had related so casually. She must have misheard. Either that or Apple Bloom misspoke.
“Your...last book?” she uttered slowly. “You're....not writing anymore? You're not going to conduct anymore studies? You're...retiring from blankology?”
Her voice faltered slightly on that special field of study Apple Bloom had created. It reminded her of those good old Cutie Mark Crusaders days, back before all but one of them got their marks. Back when Apple Bloom still had that charming accent she loved to hear. Back when Sweetie Belle had no qualms about taking her sister's materials for one of their latest schemes. Every time she heard it, she would recall one of their wacky adventures.
Apple Bloom's only answer was a curt nod.

Sweetie Belle didn't burst into tears at the news.
This was a nice reminder of how she had grown over the years. She had, akin to her sister Rarity, become the most mature of her group of friends. Not necessarily the most sophisticated or the most generous, but more of an adult than either Scootaloo or Apple Bloom. She was the accepted voice of reason in their three-pony club.
“I saw it coming from a mile away,” Sweetie Belle uttered calmly. “Applejack's going to be crushed.”
Scootaloo choked on her cider, turning to gaze dumbstruck at her unicorn friend.
“Saw it coming?!” she echoed in disbelief. “When exactly did AB stand up and say “I'm giving up the thing I've dedicated my life to”? I must have been deaf and blind that day, because I sure as Tartarus never heard her say that!”
Sweetie Belle took a dainty sip of her own cider before replying. She missed the more natural taste of cider from Sweet Apple Acres. The cider they served at “The Watering Hole” was passable, but it could never compare to anything the Apples had ever brewed. It was another sacrifice she had contemplated at length before she, along with Scootaloo and Apple Bloom, had moved to Manehattan.
“She didn't have to say it,” Sweetie Belle responded rather smugly. “Her enthusiasm for her work has been lacking ever since the publication of her last book.”
“But why?” Scootaloo demanded aggressively, slamming her hoof on the table. “Why would she want to give this up? It's like if I hung up my scooter and said I didn't want to be a daredevil anymore!”
Sweetie Belle had no answer for this. She had worked out the what, but the why was beyond her intellect for the time being.
“Let's just hope that she changes her mind,” she uttered grimly.
But neither of them believed that such a thing would happen.

Meanwhile, Apple Bloom took a break from writing to reflect.
When she first went into blankology, she had been doing it for herself. She wanted to solve the mystery of her blank flank, which had somehow followed her into her adult life. But as time went on, she began to do it for the other blank flanks. As she became acquainted with the startling number of adults without Cutie Marks, her research became less for her own benefit and more for the benefit of them. For the first time in her life, she cast aside lamentations about her own blank flank. And around that time, her research began to uncover things she found legitimately interesting. Patterns that astounded her and made her view blankology in an even more curious light.
Where had that lust for research vanished to in the past year?
Apple Bloom would never confide this to anypony, including Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, but the enthusiasm that had fueled initial analysis of markless ponies was fading. She no longer saw value in her work, which had led her down many dead end streets. Her books were still only mere speculation, collections of big words, and deceptively impressive breakthroughs that did not truly explain the supposed science behind blank flanks. She was not simply being selfish in these thoughts. Her heart ached for her willing test subjects who had obviously signed up in the hopes of getting their Cutie Marks. She had failed both herself and countless mares and stallions who looked at her with hope in their eyes every day.
How do I explain all this to Big Macintosh and Applejack? Apple Bloom wondered, staring out the single window of her office. I don't want to look like I gave up.
She decided the easiest route was to mail them a copy of her final book. Then she could begin studying to become a carpenter, a career that had been proposed to her by AJ several years previous.
Blankology: Knows and Know-Nots, the germinal title of her book, had only progressed to half of the first chapter.
My brain picked a fine time to run out of words, the mare thought bitterly.
But, sighing dejectedly, she returned to her work.

Outside the massive skyscraper of a building, a mare with purple glasses stared in awe.
Apple Bloom lives there? she thought, impressed. Wow! Funny where a little fame can take you.
She of all ponies knew where “a little fame” could take somepony. She had watched her own fame, spawned from a chance meeting with Sapphire Shores, take her deep into the business of advertisements. After years of successful modeling for everything from hoof ointment to intimate lingerie, she was now at the helm of the the second most prosperous endorsement company in all of Equestria. It was a wonder that she and Apple Bloom had not met sooner, as they were both somewhat of the “elite” in their adult lives.
The desk clerk looked up disinterestedly as a red-maned pony strode into the lobby.
“May I help you?” she demanded pompously.
Her gaze traveled over the visitor's choice of clothing, which consisted of a pair of overalls. Her first instinct was to summon security and have this fashion-shamed mare ejected from the building.
Adjusting her purple glasses, the red-maned Earth pony responded as if she was unaware of the clerk's disapproving eyes.
“I think an old friend of mine lives here. Her name is Apple Bloom.”
For the sake of politeness, the clerk swallowed the question “Are you telling me somepony here is friends with you?” Forcing a stiff smile on her features, she answered,
“I am sorry, but I cannot give out personal......”
The mare with the purple glasses waited patiently to be recognized by the unpleasant clerk.
After a moment, it dawned on the clerk who she was speaking to. Her sentence faded into nothing as this realization came to her. She stared, her expression shifting from disbelief to embarrassment and back to pretentious in a duration of four seconds. Although she remained disapproving of the visitor's choice of clothing, she plastered a welcoming smirk on her face and forced herself to sound cheerful.
“Of course, I shall make an exception for such a beautiful, talented, intelligent......”
Two minutes of gushy sycophancy followed.
“............and famous mare. Who was it you wanted to visit?”
“Apple Bloom.”
The clerk gestured toward the elevator across the room from the main door.
“I'll tell her that you're coming up. She's in Apartment 14-D on the fifth floor.”

When her friend arrived, Apple Bloom was waiting at her desk.
She gazed in astonishment at the mare who strode into the room. She instantly recognized her from the glasses alone, paired up with that conspicuous hair color.
“Twist!” she gasped, her eyes wide. “I thought the clerk made a mistake! But...it's really you!”
She hadn't seen Twist since she was a child. Their friendship had disintegrated soon after she met Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle. The two of them never quite concluded their companionship. At some point, Apple Bloom drifted toward the two new blank flanks and stayed there for the remainder of her school days, while Twist drifted toward her own new group of comrades. Neither of them discussed the change or expressed regret over it. When they grew up, one of them moved to Canterlot and the other moved to Manehattan without a single backward glance at what had once been.
Twist looked immensely pleased that Apple Bloom remembered her. When contemplating a visit, her mind had played with the idea that, despite the purple glasses, the nerdy pony with a fluffy mane would not be recognized as the adult pony with a long red mane and a less timid look in her eye. She was still nerdy, but it didn't showcase itself on her exterior. She gave an altogether different impression than she had as a young filly.
“I missed you,” Twist admitted sincerely. “Seeing your face everywhere reminded me of the irreplaceable friend I left behind when I moved out of Ponyville.”
The two mares embraced each other warmly. For one glorious second, they were meeting for the first time as two anxious fillies beginning their first school year. When the hug concluded, they were once again adults who had spent years apart. The reality was almost saddening.
Twist took a seat on the only other chair in the room. It stood directly in front of the desk, giving the impression that she was being interviewed by a possible employer.
“How are Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo?” Twist inquired. “I know I saw at least one of their names in the paper.”
Apple Bloom grinned. Of her two best friends, only one of them was likely to have gotten her name in the paper: The orange one with the purple mane. She had seen Scootaloo's name in such a wide variety of headlines that she had made a collage out of it and given it to her pegasus comrade as a birthday present the previous year.
“Sweetie Belle's regular gig at the local night club is working out perfectly. I think she might skip going professional and just retire from singing in a few years. Scootaloo isn't getting paid nearly as much for what she does, but she's happy with her life. I'm happy for her as well, but I wish she wouldn't begin every show by pointing out all the grisly ways her latest stunt could kill her.”
Twist hadn't known Sweetie Belle or Scootaloo nearly as well as Apple Bloom, but their reputations more than made up for it. Ignoring the more vicious rumors jealous ponies spread about Sweetie Belle, she had deduced their personalities as accurately as if she was on intimate terms with them. With this knowledge, she wasn't at all surprised to hear that Scootaloo was enjoying her life as a daredevil.
“What about you?” Apple Bloom asked. “How is life at the top?”
“I don't think an ad company can be considered “the top”. I don't get invited to fancy parties or asked out by rich, pompous old stallions very often. I do have a very special somepony, but he's not wealthy.”
“A very special somepony? Who? Do I know him?”
But Twist refused to elaborate on the subject. She merely smiled and shrugged, a large grin on her features. Then she quickly swung the subject around to something else.
“How is your research going?” she asked, surveying the office. “I find blankology fascinating. I've read all of your books and I'm thinking of becoming a blankologist myself sometime in the near future. Is there any special training I need or is knowledge of Cutie Marks the only requirement?”
All at once, the initial joy at her reunion with Twist faded from Apple Bloom's face.
“Blankology is nothing,” she uttered coldly. “You write up math equations and speak to ponies and take notes as if it's something, but it's nothing.”
Twist was startled at this abrupt change of mood. What had happened to the vision she'd had of Apple Bloom, the vision of her as a confident mare enthusiastic about her work? The mare she was facing bared no resemblance to the one she had pictured in her mind's eye all through the train ride.
“But it isn't “nothing”,” she protested quietly. “Your work has helped a lot of ponies feel more comfortable in their own fur. Last year alone, you uncovered ten useful things about Cutie Marks that nopony even realized. That's not nothing.”
Apple Bloom shook her head, disappointed with herself. Why had she expected Twist to understand when her closest friends didn't?
“Nothing or something,” she replied dismissively. “I'm still giving it up. If I wasn't having so much trouble writing my last book, I would have ditched it months ago.”
To her astonishment, Twist's eyes flashed in anger at this announcement. She had never seen the red-maned pony truly enraged. In most cases, she had taken up refuge in Twist's optimism when her worry about getting her Cutie Mark began to eat away at her.
“Oh, I get it,” Twist uttered scathingly. “Getting your Cutie Mark is more important than anything else in your life!”
Apple Bloom's mouth dropped open in silent shock. She looked as if Twist had bucked her in the stomach.
“Its always been like this,” the other mare continued. “Always about your precious Cutie Mark! Twist gets her Cutie Mark before me? Better dump her for two fillies I barely know! Sky-diving didn't work out on the first try? Better move on to something else! Is this just a little game for you? Trying something for a while, discarding it as if it's nothing, and then trying something else? If it's not a game, you're doing a very good job of pretending that it is!”
At this, Apple Bloom's initial shock shifted to rage.
“You're wrong!” she cried. “I'm not giving up because I haven't gotten my Cutie Mark! I'm giving up because nothing matters anymore! I've just been feeding false hope to gullible ponies and pretending I'm some big genius! Who cares about blankology? Who cares about Cutie Marks? Who really gives a flying feather about less than two hundred ponies in the world who don't have them?”
“I'll tell you who gives a flying feather! You do!”
“No I don't! Haven't you been listening to me?”
“Oh yeah? If you don't care, why are you having so much trouble writing your farewell book?”
The two ponies, by then face to face, had been screaming back and forth. Now, as that specific question rolled off Twist's tongue, Apple Bloom found herself without an answer. She stared at the other Earth pony, opening and closing her mouth as she searched her brain for a retort. The only thing that surfaced was the undeniable truth in the statement that she could barely face: She was having trouble writing her farewell book and she didn't have an explanation for it. She had written many longer works with ease, therefore why was she struggling with this one?
Satisfied, Twist retreated with a smile on her face.
“Do you need something to drink?”

In actuality, Apple Bloom owned two apartments.
Apartment 14-D and the apartment next door to it. The former she used as her office, while the latter was her actual living quarters. She had, with the permission of the building's owner, constructed a door to connect the two apartments. The second apartment consisted of a bed, an oven/stove combination, a table, a refrigerator, a couch, two armchairs, a bookcase, and a cupboard. It wasn't extravagant or expensive, but it was home to her.
Settling a rather dazed Apple Bloom on the couch, Twist began an exploration of the refrigerator. She eventually discovered an unopened bottle of apple cider. She looked through the cupboard and found two glasses, which she placed on the table. She hummed cheerfully as she poured the cider into the glasses, as if all of this was an everyday occurrence.
“Sorry I had to get you riled up,” she apologized. “But you always seemed to admit things more easily if you were angry. Some things never change.”
She handed over one of the glasses to Apple Bloom.
It took several sips of the cider for the olive-colored mare to return to her usual self.
“I'm an idiot,” she uttered unhappily.
“You're not an idiot, Apple Bloom. You lost the passion for your work and started believing things that aren't true. I bet even Princess Celestia has had days like that. It's a normal part of life.”
But Apple Bloom hadn't gained back all of that passion. She still felt as if she'd squeezed everything from the subject of blankology and there was nothing left for her. She would love to continue her research and she certainly had more than enough funds to do so, but aiming in the dark wasn't desirable. If she could only see where she was going, she could draw herself a map.
Luckily, Twist answered the questions that were piling up in Apple Bloom's mind.
“A vacation,” she proposed swiftly. “Take Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo with you if you can. Get away from all this for a while. Forget blankology. Forget everything except your own need for relaxation. Go somewhere you've never been before and enjoy yourself.”
Apple Bloom hadn't had a true vacation in years. Her leisure time was spent in the now-familiar world of Manehattan that she had practically memorized. The closest thing she had had to a vacation was returning to Ponyville to celebrate Granny Smith's birthday. Even then she had spent most of her time there discussing her work with her siblings. She had left directly after the festivities came to an end, bidding a hasty goodbye and her saddlebag filled with fresh-baked apple turnovers.
Now that Twist brought up the subject, the idea of a vacation, especially with Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, sounded perfect.
Everything else can wait, she thought.
For the next two weeks, Apple Bloom had other things to concern herself with.

“So, are you still gonna ditch blankology?”
Three mares were lying on beach towels surrounded by sand. Overhead stood the bright illumination that was Celestia's light, beaming down on the many occupants of the crowded beach. Several feet away stood a large expanse of ocean gently stroking the shore.
Scootaloo, the asker, lay sprawled across her towel as if she'd been thrown there. The second she had arrived at the hotel, she had been swarmed by fillies and colts who wanted her autograph. Although she boasted about her exploits and usually enjoyed attention, it was rather irritating to discover that she couldn't escape her relentless fanbase all the way in Maretonia. She had been secretly hoping that no one there had ever heard of her. A hope that was immediately shattered the moment she stepped hoof in the prestigious hotel. After hours of signing autographs and posing for pictures, she was exhausted.
Apple Bloom, who had been reading a magazine article about a new apple-based fashion line, discarded her reading material at the question. Having noticed both of her friends keeping quiet about the subject, she had been prepared for this inevitable moment.
“No,” she responded calmly.
“Aw, AB, you.....what?”
Enjoying Scootaloo's expression of shock, Apple Bloom repeated her answer.
“No, I'm not going to ditch blankology.”
Sweetie Belle was similarly astonished by the abrupt, matter-of-fact answer. They had only been at the resort for three days, after all. She had expected it to take the full two weeks for Apple Bloom to come to a decision.
“What changed your mind?” Scootaloo asked, curious.
Apple Bloom spiraled through her memories for an answer. What had changed her mind? The wisdom of an old friend? The faith of the unicorn and the pegasus on either side of her? Her own lack of desire to go through with it? The unfinished manuscript in the drawer of her desk back in Manehattan?
“Blankology isn't “nothing”,” she uttered slowly. “It's something a lot of ponies care about and I'm one of them.”
As she spoke these words, she felt a strange burning sensation on her flank. Fearing that it might be a sunburn or something of that nature, she sat up. Craning her head to look, she was surprised to see something appearing on her flank. Confused, she wondered if it was a bruise of some sort. Had an animal bitten her while she wasn't paying attention?
It was a small symbol. A white shield with a large “C” in the middle and two quills crossed over it.
Apple Bloom stared at it for a moment, a slow smile spreading across her face.
She turned to the ocean with new hope in her eyes.