Traversing the valley had taken longer than Applejack had expected. Her memory of the valley from before it had bloomed was hazy at best, but she distinctly remembered approaching the foot of the fortress thinking it looked like she could stretch out a leg and touch a hoof to the towering mountains to their south. It hadn’t been that easy, of course. Distance was deceptive given that the mountains were sharp and tall in the extreme; they ate sight and demanded attention. It had taken them two full days to even reach the foothills that took them out of the valley proper.
In part, this was because of the terrain. What life the valley had lost in the past years, decades or princesses-knew how long since it had wilted, it made up for overnight. Grasses and flowers lined the ground, trees stood tighter than the Everfree in places, and the remaining space was eaten up by ferns and bushes. Calling it slow going was like saying that cider season was a little stressful. With neither compass nor sight more than twenty paces ahead, Fluttershy had to pick her way up through the leafy canopy many times per day just to make sure they hadn’t been turned around.
Which led to the second part of why it had been slow. It hadn’t taken long for the valley to flood with fauna to go with the flora, and every single varmint they met had something or other to say to Fluttershy. It wasn’t all bad, though. Thanks to the critters, their saddlebags were full of nuts, roots and other food that wouldn’t spoil when they left the forest.
And then there was the foothills, where the going was slower still. The next days had been defined by steep climbs and numerous treacherous gorges they had to circle or have Fluttershy help Applejack across. With each morning under the open sky, there was less animal life and less vegetation to be found.
Yet now the staunch earth mare found herself thinking she’d happily go back to that, if she could.
“Are you okay?” Fluttershy asked. Applejack blinked to clear her eyes as she forced herself to attend. The yellow pegasus had taken point and was looking back at her as they both slowed to a halt. The path had narrowed so much that they couldn’t really walk side by side, and in fact, whether or not they were even on anything that could be called a ‘path’ was questionable.
“If you’re tired, we can take a break,” Fluttershy suggested.
“I ain’t tired,” Applejack grumbled. “Ain’t no pegasus going to wear me out.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Fluttershy said. “It’s just, it’s a very long way down, but I didn’t—”
“I know. I was joking. Well, half joking,” Applejack said, walking up to stand by Fluttershy. The pegasus, for her part, puffed a strand of her mane out of her face and rolled her eyes as she smiled. At their backs was a near sheer cliff face, and on the other side of the lip etched in the mountain, an equally vertical drop. Applejack almost had to lean forwards to be able to look down.
“Sorry,” she added. “Ain’t meaning to be sour, was just thinking. I ain’t none too fond of heights anyways. Don’t get me wrong, ain’t like I am afraid, but it’s not my cup of tea either.”
Fluttershy nodded at that, taking a few steps back to sit down on her haunches as far away from the edge as possible.
“But you are?” Applejack asked, arching a brow.
“Afraid of heights?” Fluttershy asked, her body shaking with a quiet giggle before she continued. “Not exactly, I just don’t want to take any chances.”
“And here I was thinking that if I ever fell, you’d catch me,” Applejack grinned.
“I will! I mean, I hope so? I’d try my best? Oh goodness, please don’t even joke about that!” Fluttershy said. “The cloak goes over my wings, and—”
“Fluttershy. It’s okay. I’ll try not to fall off,” Applejack cut her off, still smiling as she nudged open her saddlebags. They were holding together remarkably well, but the same couldn’t be said for the supplies within. Even this low on the mountain there was snow in places where the sun couldn’t reach, so water wasn’t a problem, but that was only half of the story.
“Reckon’ we got about four or five more days,” Applejack murmured from the depths of her saddlebags, nosing a large root aside to reveal some mush she couldn’t quite identify. “Make that three to four,” she sighed.
“Maybe we’ll find another cave,” Fluttershy supplied, and Applejack nodded at that. There was precious little shelter to be had in the rocky mountains, so they’d rested where they could, and at one point, that had left them to discover a cliffside cave that offered some mosses and lichen. Gambling like that had never been in Applejack’s nature though. Soon, they’d have to figure something out. They had sat there for less than a minute when Fluttershy spoke up again.
“It’s really pretty, though.”
Applejack didn’t even need to ask what she referred to. In the days since they had begun their ascent, the world had dropped away. They thought they had found a mountain road, but the millennia had not been kind, and they’d had to backtrack more than once. Still, there was progress of some sort, and this high up in the mountain, they were rewarded with a staggering view.
The fortress’ valley had nearly disappeared around the side of the mountain, but they could still see a dense and lush carpet of greens, and further, the forests nestled between the lower mountains and hills that surrounded it. Fluttershy’s eyes, however, were trained to the east, in the direction they were going. If the reports from her little scouting flights were correct, they would soon be going through a pass, deep into the high mountains, but from here they could catch a first—and last—glimpse of the lands east beyond the valley. Lowlands, rivers, and—
“Is that the ocean?” Applejack asked.
“I think so. I saw it when I flew up to look around right after we arrived, but I didn’t think too much about it then,” Fluttershy said, her eyes big as they sought the distant stretch of blue that melded with the horizon. “I’ve never seen it up close.”
“Yeah,” muttered Applejack. “Well, who knows, might be we’re headin’ there. Least we know we’re on a coast, if we find a map. Assuming this is the same ocean.”
Fluttershy’s reply was a wan smile. Even as they watched, the shadows around them were lengthening, a subtle yet potent reminder of their situation. It was cold enough during the day, the air stinging in Applejack’s nose as it was, but they’d freeze without cover come night-time.
“Right,” Applejack said, pointing along the narrow path. “So you said this here leads to the pass? How much longer?”
“It should be right around the bend here, actually,” Fluttershy said, rising to stand. “We would probably have made it there yesterday if I had noticed that the first path was out. Or if I could have carried you across.”
Applejack groaned and leaned forward to headbutt Fluttershy on the rump to set her moving. “We’ve been through this. It ain’t your fault any more’n it it's my fault that I weren’t born a pegasus.”
“No, I mean, I guess not,” Fluttershy sighed. “Sorry. I just know Rainbow Dash could’ve done it.”
Applejack grumbled as she leaped a particularly ominous looking crack in the path. Though she couldn’t very see her face, she saw Fluttershy’s wings and ears both drooping. It wasn’t the first time Fluttershy made comments to that effect, but whenever Applejack tried to pin her to the topic of Dash, she went quiet, leaving Applejack with the choice of talking about something else entirely or trudging on in stoic silence.
“Wonder how they got food up here,” Applejack hummed, opting for the former of the two. The whistling wind was poor company, anyway.
“I guess the roads were better?” Fluttershy suggested.
“No, I mean, I ain’t never met a single unicorn who could tend a garden proper. Before they got food from the earth pony tribe, how in the wide world did they make do?” Applejack said.
“Oh. Um. Maybe they used to sow crops, but they weren’t very good at it? It’s that, or magic, and I don’t think Twilight knows any spell that can make food out of nothing,” Fluttershy replied with a glance back at Applejack. “If they wanted a deal with the earth ponies, there must have been a reason for it.”
“Deal, huh?” Applejack chuckled. “Except they never say what the unicorns gave back. T’aint like the sunlight shines different on one side of the river from the other, is it? The pegasi, I get that. Having a weather pony or two is practically required for any farming nowadays, but sunlight?”
“You make it sound like the unicorns weren’t very nice ponies,” Fluttershy said, a mixture of reproach and curiosity in her voice.
“Just saying that we earth ponies have always had to do thing the hard way. Ain’t complaining, but here we are, stuck travellin’ by hoof just cause we ain’t got no fancy magic and all,” Applejack muttered.
Fluttershy actually frowned over her shoulder at that, and Applejack held up a warding hoof. “I ain’t about to apologize for having neither horn nor wing, Fluttershy, and goodness knows that if you get tired, I’ll pick you up and carry you, and then you can thank me,” she said, grinning.
“Oh that would be ever so nice,” Fluttershy giggled.
“Hop on!” Applejack offered, gesturing with a flick of her head, doubling Fluttershy’s laughter.
“Oh I don’t think I ever could, really,” Fluttershy replied, her mirth slowly ebbing until all that remained was a content smile.
Content. Despite the fact that she was obviously pining for Rainbow Dash, despite that she had just as many friends back in Ponyville as Applejack, Fluttershy seemed almost happy. With a deep breath through her nose, cold air stinging her snout as she did, Applejack lifted her head. If Fluttershy could take it all in stride, then so could she.
Before long, the pair reached a rather precarious little drop from their ledge back onto what they guessed had once been the main road, and it was a simple task to jump from ledge to ledge—or glide—to land them down on the wider path that kept hugging the mountainside. The fall was less intimidating from here, but Applejack didn’t particularly fancy a tumble off the side either way. If there had ever been any railing or some such, it was long gone, and the path was barely wide enough for a cart and a half anyway.
“It’s just around here,” Fluttershy suggested when it was clear they were coming up on something. Over the past few hours, the hills below had crept up on the mountainside, and as they turned a sharp corner, they were reminded of the fact that this was no single, lonely mountain. Ahead, the path widened and disappeared into the darkness of a tunnel that cut straight into another wall of grey rock. It was hard to get the measure of the mountains here. Straining her neck to peer skywards rewarded Applejack with little but masses of grey and white, any single peak always hiding two more.
“So where’s this go then,” Applejack murmured, casting a quick backwards glance. It looked as if though the main path might have once have gone straight down the hills, but some great rock slide took care of that. It put things into perspective when the mountains themselves had changed since last ponies walked this road, but then, it mattered not half as much as the darkness before them.
“Oh, I didn’t really go inside.”
“I know, I was just thinking aloud,” Applejack said. “I won’t have us splitting up for no reason. Still, would be nice to know that this actually exits somewhere,” she added, a little more quietly. “Sure is dark, and I have had just about enough of darkness.”
“Maybe there are more of the little crystals?” Fluttershy suggested. Despite her words, every step was slower than the last, and her wings were half spread as they approached the tunnel not twenty paces away now. Without a word, Applejack passed her by to take point. The path was smooth enough, a raised plateau of stone amidst uneven rock, and it led unerringly towards that crack that seemed more like a tear in the mountain wall than anything else.
“Well, there’s something in here,” Applejack muttered as she led the way past the ominous threshold, stepping over a scattering of small rocks. It seemed that once inside they traded the evening sky outside for the night sky, stars included. Applejack stood very still as she tried to understand exactly what she was looking at.
“Stars?” she asked, but she knew they weren’t. Even as she spoke, her eyes adjusted to to the darkness, and the multicolored twinkling lights above described a huge dome or a shaft. The next time she blinked, she could make out the path beneath her hooves; it was cobbled, and to either side of the cracked road, the darkness still reigned.
“Careful, please,” Fluttershy said from behind her. Applejack swallowed the little jibe she’d readied when she realized she could feel Fluttershy’s breath on her flank. She wasn’t entirely un-scared herself, truth be told. Creeping up on the edge of the road, she could see a few scattered lights down the side of the shaft. It was a sheer drop.
“Well, I don’t fancy my chances here, so you’ll pardon me if I stick to the middle of the road,” Applejack said, taking a few steps back. “D’you reckon they’re crystals, those things?” she asked, slowly advancing down the shadowed cave road.
“I would fly and look, but I’m afraid I’ll hit something and fall,” Fluttershy replied, hurrying to walk side by side, flank to flank with Applejack.
“Taking no risks sounds about right here,” Applejack agreed, squinting as she peered ahead to where some large stone construct loomed, shooting up into the air. It was the first and only feature of the massive cave other than the lights.
“I think it goes up,” Fluttershy suggested. Applejack could see her craning her neck to follow the spire at the center of the cave.
“Guess that’s what we want,” Applejack said. “Still don’t see why they couldn’t have done this in some other way. Any other way. Thousands of little colored lights and everything, this here’s too fancy by half. Guess that means we’re on the right track if we’re looking for the unicorns’ place, huh?” she chuckled.
“Not all unicorns are like that,” Fluttershy admonished. Applejack could hear her smile all the same.
“Maybe, but you know as well as I do that both Rarity and Twilight would have loved this place, just not for the same reason,” Applejack retorted. “And I sure could go for a bit of proper light right now, so I’d love to have them here.”
“Even if it’s magic?” Fluttershy asked, and Applejack automatically turned to look at her though the darkness made the gesture useless. It was hard to decide whether the demure pegasus was poking fun at her or if she was earnest.
“Yeah, even if it’s magic,” Applejack said, barely louder than the echoing clops of hooves on cobbles. “Ain’t nothing wrong with magic in and by itself.”
Carefully the two picked their way forward. Though the raised road was straight, there were cracks and rubble here and there, and small sections of the edge of the road had fallen away into the inky blackness below. The column at the road’s terminus slowly grew in size and definition, and before long, they stood before what reminded Applejack of a corkscrew, a spiral staircase in the shape of a road that stabbed up into the darkness, wide as two barns at the bottom, and narrowing with every turn.
“Don’t fancy myself pulling a cart of hay bales up that,” Applejack said. “Mighty steep.”
“I guess they used—”
“Magic,” Applejack finished for her. “Yeah, I can see a pattern here.”
“Right,” Fluttershy agreed. Applejack could hear the pegasus shifting and resettling her wings on her back. “Well, at least it should be easy to just walk up here, right?”
“Yup, and like I said, at least we’re on the right track!” Applejack agreed, nodding. “Let’s go.”
Twenty minutes later, their walk had slowed to a crawl. The tips of Fluttershy’s wings were dragging along the ground, and every time Applejack had to raise a leg, she silently cursed whomever had come up with the design for this ridiculous place.
“Easy,” Applejack growled, stopping to wipe sweat from her brow. “I don’t understand why you don’t just fly. Must be easier than this.”
It took a few seconds before Fluttershy replied, the pegasus still breathing heavily. “There’s a wind,” she said amidst gasps for breath. “Can’t you feel it? I don’t want take off when I can barely see.”
“I suppose that means there’s an exit up ahead at least,” Applejack murmured, and she’d barely taken ten more steps before she halted again. “And there it is,” she added, pointing up ahead. Muted light poured in from an opening not too far above, half hidden by a stone bridge that led off the spiral.
“I did think we were getting closer to the, um, ceiling, I guess,” Fluttershy agreed, but Applejack barely heard her. Finally getting her second wind, the farmpony galloped up the sharp incline, round and round until she finally reached a plateau. Above, the cave ceiling was almost close enough to touch, and the spiral column tapered off until it was barely wider than a hoof’s breadth where it met the rock above.
“Well don’t that beat all,” Applejack said, staring up at the glittering spectacle overhead as Fluttershy finally caught up, the pegasus practically dripping with sweat. “They’re gems after all. Rubies, emeralds and all the other fancy types only Rarity knows. Ain’t like they’re worth a lot, but I wonder what makes them sparkle.”
“Maybe they reflect the light from outside?” Fluttershy suggested.
“Might be, not that there’s much light at the moment though. The sun must be setting,” Applejack replied, pointing down the short bridge that led out of the cave. A soft orange glow was all the opening offered. Applejack made to go towards it, but Fluttershy didn’t follow. The pegasus slowly sank back to sit on her haunches.
“No, just go on, um,” she said, blinking heavily. “If you want to look. I just need a minute, sorry.”
Applejack turned and retraced her steps, sitting down next to her friend. Wrapping her forelegs around her neck, she drew her into a tight hug. “The world’ll keep, sugarcube. Let’s take a rest, okay? We’ll head out in the morning.”
The nuts and berries had helped. A good night’s sleep curled up together in a place that kept the chill wind out, even if it wasn’t exactly warm, that was something to be thankful for, too. It was good that Fluttershy had things to be thankful for, but for every pleasant memory of their morning breakfast in that frightening yet wonderful cave, she had two complaints about the present. Of course, she’d never voice those complaints, and they were all about snow, but there it was. Snow in her mane, snow underhoof and over her legs chilling her to the bone, snow in her ears—
“At least we got us a road to walk,” Applejack called from somewhere in front. Fluttershy had to squint to make out the snow-laced blond tail she’d followed for the past hours.
“I guess,” Fluttershy replied, and it was the truth. They walked what truly was a proper road, something that seemed almost absurd and magical in itself so high in the mountains, and not once had it split or failed. Snow fell in droves and covered everything; the road itself was covered in a layer so thick, it nearly reached their bellies. But it was there.
“What’s that?” Applejack called.
“I said, ‘I guess’,” Fluttershy repeated, a little louder. No sooner had the words left her than did she glance up the closest mountainside fearing an avalanche. Here, they walked in mountains crowded by mountains. Where the road hugged the stony edifice of a particular mountain one moment, it would find a way to cross over to another before the ponies could even blink.
Perhaps it was all just one mountain, really. The snow made it hard to tell, and now the path led them between two particularly tall peaks that disappeared into the permanent cloud layer, rock and snow rising to cover them on either side. At the very least, it brought a reprieve from the biting wind; Fluttershy’s ears hurt, and her wings were stiff as it was.
“So, how’re you holding up?” Applejack asked. If not for her words, Fluttershy would have walked straight into her on sheer automatics instead of merely bumping her snout into her tail. The farmpony was turning on the spot as she shook the snow out of her mane.
“Oh, um, I think we better find shelter soon, but I don’t think this is a good resting place,” Fluttershy offered. Part of her knew or suspected it wasn’t at all what Applejack had meant and that she was being rude. Their last conversation back in the valley had threatened to resurface every now and then, but if she told herself that it was too cold to think about anything else, that made it a little better. It was a good excuse. Applejack narrowed her eyes and let the silence hang there for a second longer before she nodded.
“Right,” she grunted. “I just—”
Applejack froze, eyes wide as she peered over Fluttershy’s shoulders. Fluttershy herself felt a very real chill down her spine as she saw her expression, a cold not borne of snow and wind.
“Sugar, be very quiet, and come over to me,” Applejack whispered. “Quickly now.”
Fluttershy swallowed and nodded, forcing her legs to move one by one as she took a few steps forward, taking up position by Applejack. When she saw what she had seen, she took an involuntary step back, and Applejack protectively slipped in front.
Resting on a small shelf not far behind them, a half-translucent shape lay. It didn’t look entirely unlike a pony, except it was larger, had a narrow head, and its body trailed off into the snowdrift behind it. If not for its eyes, it wouldn’t have been a very remarkable creature, but those clear blue orbs seemed to see straight through her. Fluttershy shivered and took another step away.
“I—I think it sees us,” Fluttershy stammered, but the creature made no move. It lay very still, and she thought she could see its chest moving with breath, but it did not so much as acknowledge their presence.
“I think you’re right,” Applejack muttered. “Why isn’t it doing anything? Tell me I ain’t crazy; that’s a windigo, right?”
“It certainly looks like one,” Fluttershy answered, but the fear was leaving her as quickly as it had come. Now that the shock was gone, it slid right off her. The windigo’s gaze was still unsettling, but it seemed more a wounded beast than anything. “It doesn’t look dangerous,” she added.
Applejack opened her mouth, no doubt to protest, but evidently she thought better of it. The orange mare stared at the supine windigo and gave a great snort. “Don’t know about that, but it doesn’t seem the type of beast to eat ponies.”
“It doesn’t look like a carnivore, no,” Fluttershy agreed. “We know from the stories that they don’t actually eat any creatures.”
“Right,” Applejack said. “Maybe it doesn't care 'cause we ain’t fighting? Wonder if two ponies having a little argument would rile it up, or if it takes a bunch of ponies,” she mused.
“Let’s, um, not find out?” Fluttershy licked her lips. Rationally she knew it wasn’t a normal animal. She couldn’t and shouldn’t help it, and even if she wanted to, she didn’t know how. It was a sorry sight all the same. “Do you think it’s hurt? It’s probably just resting,” she hurried to answer her own question.
“Well, that, or—oh hold on,” Applejack groaned. “You’re actually feelin’ sorry for thing, ain’t you? You’re thinking to go help it?”
“No! I mean, um, well, yes and no?” Fluttershy tried, flushing. “I won’t, but I’d like to?”
“Anypony ever tell you you’re too kind by half, sugar?” Applejack asked, leaning over to touch her snout to hers. As she did, Fluttershy could see over her shoulder that the windigo shifted, looking away.
“I think it’s a bit of an, um, paradox anyway,” Fluttershy muttered, slowly setting them moving down the path, seeking to get through the pass and away from the creature.
“Impossible? How so?” Applejack asked, trotting up to her side and brushing the worst of the snow from her cloak with her snout.
“Well, if they feed on anger and unhappiness, and if being nice hurts them,” Fluttershy suggested. She let her voice trail off, not caring to think too much more about it.
“Then trying to help them in any usual sense of the word might just end up killin’ it, huh?”
Fluttershy winced and nodded as Applejack completed her thought.
The next few days were no kinder, and the snow continued unabated. Every day was harder than the last, every day the air got thinner and breathing was harder. Every morning, they awoke more tired. They saw another pair of similarly dormant windigoes, and more than one discussion passed on whether or not the windigoes caused the snow, or if the windigoes were here because of the snow. It wasn’t a particularly pleasant topic, but it beat out the alternatives. Applejack had finally stopped trying to talk more about Rainbow Dash.
Each and every time they found some meager shelter, a cave or a less-than-frozen scrap of cover from the wind, Applejack looked as if though she wanted to say something. Every time, Fluttershy was reminded.
They were trying to get home. It was hard to reconcile this frozen landscape with Ponyville, and that distance was almost precious to Fluttershy. In her fitful sleep, in what hours of rest she could grab before she had to move lest she froze, she let herself play in the warm summer skies with Rainbow Dash. Now that she’d dared admit to herself how she felt, she had that, at least—she had her dreams, but she feared when they got back to Ponyville, she wouldn’t have even that.
If they got home. If Rainbow Dash and the others were safe. For every moment she tried to take solace in her dreams, she betrayed them by thinking of her own selfish desires first. Fluttershy buried her snout under her cloak, in between Applejack and herself, and closed her eyes to try to grab another nap before it was time to press on again. This time, for the first time, she hoped she wouldn’t dream at all.