“The night stretches on, out into eternity.
Stars pierce the thick curtain of isolation, dotting the skyscape.
The moon peeks out from behind a cloud, silvering the land
Turning it into a midnight paradise.
Strands of light flare onto the horizon.
Glistening, golden sun graces the grains of wheat in a field.
A boy lets his eyes slip open, the first rays of radiant dawn
Breathing life into his waking body.
Meanwhile, flickers of sunny flame disappear behind the earth.
The world holds its breath for the utter perfection of the in-between.
A girl allows her eyes to fall shut, the last twinkles of dwindling twilight.
Stealing away the wakefulness to make way for the night.
Happening at the same time, eyes opening and eyes closing
Giving way to the inevitable cycle that takes all through this life and the next.
Drooping away into the endless current of time.
Sinking to where the infinite night will rest for eternity.”
Nato chuckled as he recited the poem from memory. “My father wrote it for my mother after she passed. You could say it was an obituary, in a way.” Celestia looked down at the poor stallion with tears in her eyes. He smiled wistfully. “I wonder what our friends have gotten themselves into.”
The Princess sighed heavily. “If I know the spirit, they're being tested. It always had a funny way of making sure the ponies it let in were worthy.”
Nato furrowed his brow. “I wonder, is there any way that I can help them?”
“Not directly, no...”
The Elements of Harmony stood together in a room with nothing but a floor. They all looked around, but if one of them tried to speak, no words came out. After a few minutes of waiting, the voice returned. “Ah, gathered here in the waiting chamber. Such good ponies, staying calm and not trying to scatter about. But of course, you can't move when locked in stasis!” The disembodied echo laughed, a noise that chilled the room and frosted the air. “Naturally, you won't be working together on this next bit. You see, I have a very important lesson to teach you all, and you can only learn it...” 'It,' whatever it was, paused just as the ponies instantly teleported to what seemed to be miles away from each other and darkness crept in. “Alone.” The final word hissed on for what felt like hours, embedding its venom in everypony's fading mind...
Rarity hurried into her boutique, just barely escaping the approaching rainstorm. “Whew...” she sighed, “I nearly got my newest hat ruined.” The hat in mention, made in azure silk and interwoven with threads of brilliant silver, floated noiselessly onto its carefully constructed rest. As she moved toward her work room in the back, her eye caught on a letter resting on the sitting room table. Curious, she levitated it over.
Miss Rarity,
To thine own self be true.
Puzzled by the insane shortness of the note, she flipped it over to make sure that no words hid on its backside. Finding nothing, she returned to the front to try to decipher it again – only to find that the note changed.
Dearest Rarity,
As you know, I largely appreciate all of the designing work you have done for the Hoity Toity designer line. However, it has come to my attention that the designs you so graciously provide me have become absolutely retched! If I had been paying you for this work, I would fire you on the spot! Seeing as I have not, you will simply be relieved of your duties. Please refrain from sending any more of your horrid designs. As of this letter, myself and High and Mighty Clothing, Inc. no longer hold any business relations with you. I expect the Canterlot Corner will not refrain from mentioning this disastrous event in the tabloids.
With uncouth shock,
Hoity Toity
Confused, flabbergasted, and deflated, Rarity plopped down on her cushions. “Wh-What just happened...” It seems my hard work was for naught... Noting that her life would shortly be ruined by the infamy soon to come, the alabaster unicorn slid into her pink nightgown and slippers and began to prepare a nice, warm meal intended for comfort. At that moment, a loud rapping came at her door. When she opened the door, Rarity's eyes met a unicorn with raven hair shielding herself from the first hints of a rainstorm. The mare immediately started whining and threw a mildly wet hat on the threshold.
“Your horrible hat made me a laughing stock in front of my friends! I demand a refund!” The words carried a spiteful anger that nearly brought tears to Rarity.
“W-Well of course, ma'am. What is your name?”
“Candid Prose.”
Rarity hurried over to her sales charts and studied them intensely until she found the name. “Ah! I see that you paid... oh my, 30 bits for the hat. Well, here you are then, Ms. Prose.” She levitated a small sack and filled it with the coins, releasing it into the other mare's magic.
“Thank you,” Candid seethed with mild resent. As the unicorn walked away, Rarity could swear she heard the frustrated mare call her a “dirty, greedy wench” over the worsening rain. Holding back her tongue, she kept composure and quietly slammed her door shut before sinking to the ground, in tears.
“I think the only thing that could make this worse would be getting struck in the head or something of the like,” she moaned into a freshly summoned pillow. After looking up to locate her doilies, she noticed Opalescence sitting outside her window... dry, and under a clear sky? Puzzled, Rarity went outside to recover her darling cat, only for it to run away. After a fruitless chase that lasted over half an hour, the designer returned, defeated and disheartened. Her motions were gentle, so much so that the door nearly didn't open for her. As she sank into her bed, dissonant chords of sadness rang around the room, nearly resembling twisted laughter. Her mind swam with the events of the day, first with the note that changed, and the suddenly clear sky, not to mention the sudden change of opinion toward her and her work, and... “Oh, dear Opal,” she mourned, tears slowly seeping deeper into the fabric of the bed. Rarity finally drifted off, wondering lastly about that first message – “to thine own self be true.”
Thud. As her hooves slapped against the hard bark of the tree, Applejack grunted. Sighing at the cascading roll of smooth, red apples dropping into their buckets, she moved on to the next tree and bucked. More apples. I love my work deeply, she pondered, but sometimes, it just gets downright boring....
A keen smile spread on her lips as she looked upon the last fruit-laden tree. Just as she turned her hindquarters to the apple tree, a noise in the wind stopped her. “That's funny,” she muttered out loud, “I could've swore that the wind just told me to remember myself.” After shrugging it off as nothing more than just her mind playing tricks on her, the cowpony finished her round of work for the day. “Now for some nice, cold cider,” she sighed as she trotted toward the main building of Sweet Apple Acres.
The door creaked open as Applejack entered her home, and she made a mental note to grease the hinges later. She entered the cozy kitchen, gently patting the old, handcrafted dining furniture like she did after every hard day's work. Now for some cider... After downing a smooth glass of the perfectly made concoction, Applejack stepped into her makeshift office and sat on a cushion. Pulling open one of her desk drawers, she retrieved a pen and noted on her calendar the end of the harvest. Then, she tallied up the apples that Big Mac had sold today, and readied the numbers for him to work his arithmetic magic on them. Despite being decent at it herself, Applejack decided to leave the task to her far more proficient brother since they lacked one of the fancy new adding machines being made in Canterlot.
Just then, a sharp knocking came at the door. “Come in,” she called as she stowed her pen. Applejack looked up to see her brother standing in the doorway. “Oh, howdy Big Mac! I just got done gettin' your numbers ready for today's sales.”
The stoic stallion plodded in and looked at the paper. “Eeyup.” Then he moved over to Applejack and nudged her. “Visitor for you.” She nodded and followed her brother out into the den.
As she walked into the light of the den, Applejack took note of the pony seated at the window desk – a pure white stallion with a golden six-point star emblazoned on his flank. She stammered out a greeting. “Oh! Uh, Swift Justice, it's good to see you! I thought you'd be out investigatin' that horrible tragedy that happened last week. What brings you here?”
The somber pony stood, moving around to stand directly in front of Applejack. His mouth became a straight line as he pulled out a set of shackles.
“Now, eh,” Applejack chuckled, taking a step back as she eyed the cuffs carefully, “just what's going on here officer?”
With a resounding clack, Applejack found her front legs linked closely and uncomfortably together. “Miss Applejack, you are hereby taken into custody by the Ponyville branch of the Equestrian Police Force for your crime of murdering Mister Calm Fields. Do you understand that from now until your trial you have the right to withhold any and all information that might incriminate you of this or another crime, and that you will be held in accordance with Equestrian law until such a time as you are released from the custody of the state?”
Applejack frowned with great intensity. “Yes, yes, I understand all of that. But, I haven't done anything. Not a thing at all.”
“We have evidence that suggests you committed the crime.”
“Then why don't I remember it?” She shifted her stance downward, into the most defensive posture she could manage with her legs shackled.
Swift Justice sighed heavily before turning Applejack toward the door. “Ma'am, please don't resist. We'll be able to sort out any issues you may have at the precinct.” He trotted just outside the door. “Follow me, please.”
Applejack didn't budge one bit. “I. Didn't. Kill. Nopony.”
Her brother came up behind. “AJ, just because you don't know what happened doesn't mean it didn't. Now, I'm sure you can settle this later.” Big Macintosh pushed her toward the door. “Go on.”
“Fine,” she muttered before moving toward the door, albeit at a restricted pace. “But I'll be back soon. I swear that nopony came to harm by my hoof.”
Swift Justice gave a breath of relief as she tread over to him. “I trust you'll be able to make it down to the precinct without me having to extend the chain?” Applejack nodded slowly, beginning the first few steps in the start of a long process.
As the pair entered Ponyville's EPF office, the few officers on duty gave a few stomps and pats on the back to Swift Justice. “Hey now, it wasn't a difficult arrest. She came, even if a bit reluctantly. No need for celebration until this case is really solved.” He turned toward Applejack. “Although, I'm not sure you'll be able to deny the evidence for long. It's really stacked against you.” With that, the senior officer left her under care of the bailiff and paced into his office.
Once in her temporary cell, Applejack harrumphed onto the lumpy cot in the corner. “I just don’t get it. I don’t even know a ‘Calm Fields’ or whoever it was they say died.” With a grumble, she reached out and pulled over a bit of the hay haphazardly strewn next to the cot. Taking a bite of the slightly moist grass, Applejack sighed and curled up, occasionally scraping the wall with her hoof. “And I don’t mind too much being here, as long as I have a chance to prove that I’m innocent. But it’s just so darn boring! It’s like they want you to go bat crazy in here, cooped up with nopony to keep you company.”
She stopped herself, looking down at her hooves as a tear slipped onto her cheek. “Nopony at all... No friends, no family. Just me.”