My Dearest Applejack

by RealityPublishing

Chapter 1: Introduction [FIXED]

Author's Note:

I'd like to thank everyone who waited and is supportive of this new "change of scenery". Keep in mind that my other works will still be in progress and that I felt it was important to take a step out of my comfort zone to reach new genres. Thank you!

-R.P.

“Many called him a strange child, one who was a mistake from the start; I knew better. He was more than a son to me, for it was he who had his mother’s flare and tail.”

As the sun rose to start the dawn of day, I looked out to the meadows of which my wife and I had worked hard to maintain. The playful laughter, which came from my son, brought joy to my eyes and fulfilled me with everlasting happiness. I rubbed my back against the tree I sat beside and looked down at the work I had written.
“It is perfect,” I declared to myself, closing the book and fastening the latches tightly, placing it in a bag of which I had brought from home. As my child grew weary from chasing the winds, he came to me and spoke softly in my ear,

“Father, will Mother return?”

While it was the question that brought sorrows to my eyes, it was the answer of which brought dread. For my story had been long kept a secret from him; I knew not of how he would react to such matters. Despite my opposition to telling him the truth, I closed my eyes and prepared to reveal my troubles in full.

I sighed, returned the book to my lap and opening it slowly, “No, my son, she will not.”

A dark expression loomed over my child’s worried face. He spoke with haste, wanting answers faster than they could ever be revealed,

“What do you mean, Father? What is it that you mean to say? What have you been hiding from me? Do you hide the truth, Father?”

I chuckled slightly, showing my astonished expression to such curiosity. Who was I to doubt my own child, as he was, in truth; as curious as a child could be?

Raising a single finger, he held his tongue and sat beside me, eager for whatever answers I could provide. As he drew closer and closer to me, he held onto my arm as I prepared myself, flipping to the first page in my beloved diary; it was the book that held both my memories and my memoirs.

Looking deep into my child’s eyes, I asked him, “What do you remember of your mother?”

As the words ran deep, I could see his curiosity slowly fade away, being replaced with nothing but gloom.

“Nothing. I know not of my mother.”

I apologized, composing myself for the long read ahead, “Your mother was truly the finest in the herd, as she was indeed, a pony,” I began, watching as his face grew more and more interested. I smiled, continuing my introduction,

“She would risk anything to keep her family out of danger; she would rather lose everything in exchange for the life of a loved one.”

“But as dependable as she was, why did she leave?” Interrupted my inquisitive son who was no more patient than a filly on Hearth’s Warming Eve. I smiled,

“Your mother did not leave for she is here,” I answered, placing my hand on the small leather book, engraved with the mark of my love upon its cover. He cocked his head left with even more bustling curiosity; I knew it could not be helped, so I granted him the favor of telling him where I had first bought the book.

“Your mother and I picked it out,” I began, closing the book for the time being to display the three gleaming apples carefully etched in the material,

“She wanted me write down everything that had, and would, happen to us as a couple so that one day I may finish it and pass it down to you.”

Sitting on his knees, he pointed toward the cover’s crest asking, “Of what does that represent?”

I smiled, happy to share his family’s lore, “This mark is the one that represents your mother. It was the mark of which she earned as nothing more than a filly; it is the mark that I will never forget for as long as I live.”

He showed his interest but did not seem to be too impressed. I laughed and opened the book once more,

“Shall I begin my story? Or shall the both of us be caught in a cycle of unanswered questions?”

Giggling, as children do, he quickly sat down beside me and leaned against the tree as I did, waiting for the long awaited truth to unfold.