The Long Year

by The Red Parade

October

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Fourth Division. A waste.

---

October.

‘Mālum. Mălum. Malum.’

“I swear, those Nightmare Night costumes get better year after year,” Daring mused, fiddling with her dress.

Cheerilee shook her head and laughed. “I told you. You could come out in your full safari gear and nobody would be any the wiser.”

“I dunno. That pith helmet is pretty hard to get right,” Daring said as she reached for the breadbasket.

The two were seated on the patio of Cheerilee’s favorite diner, enjoying the cool autumn night. It was a cozy place, with the waitstaff participating in the festivities with fun and simple Nightmare Night costumes.

It made for a nice reprieve from the recent events. Cheerilee crunched down on her salad and watched as three small ghosts charged past their table, towards Sugarcube Corner.

“I always forget how festive Ponyville gets,” Daring noted.

“It’s been less so lately, but yeah. Things have started to feel normal again. Almost, anyways.”

Daring was quiet for a second. “You still miss her?”

“I always am going to,” Cheerilee said. “But… I don’t know. It’s like I’ve finally started to heal.”

Daring beamed at that. “That’s great news. I’m glad to hear it. Here.” She raised her glass, and Cheerilee raised her own. “To the future.”

“To the future.” They clinked their glasses together and sipped.

The apple cider was rich and bubbly as it trickled down her throat. It wasn’t warm and thick like a berry, and it wasn’t as potent as Applejack’s secret stash, but for the first time in a long time, Cheerilee felt okay with that.

She nearly spilled her drink when someone bumped into their table.

“I’m sorry.”

“Ugh… It’s… quite alright,” Cheerilee said as she caught her breath, setting her glass back down on the table. Daring leveled the offender a solid glare.

“I’m sorry.”

Cheerilee blinked, trying to make out the figure’s face. They wore a hooded cloak that obscured their features, and their face seemed to be wrapped in some strange fabric. “Can we help you?” Daring asked.

The figure said nothing.

Cheerilee began to look around for their waiter.

“Malum.”

The word sent a chill down her spine. “W-What?”

“Malum,” they repeated. “Malum.”

Daring raised an eyebrow. “Who are you?” she growled.

The figure reached up and took tree apple slices from Cheerilee’s salad as Daring protested. They placed them in an unmistakable pyramid on the table. “You understand, yes? You want to know what happened to her?”

Cheerilee was still. Her mind told her to get up and run. To let Daring take care of whatever monstrosity this was beside her. To leave every memory of Applejack and the Garden behind, buried in a cave that nobody would ever go to. “Yes,” she said firmly.

“She found the Garden.” The figure spoke with the tone of claws on a chalkboard. “She seeked to know. To understand. But Malum, Malum, Malum. It spares no one.” The figure began to tremble, and Cheerilee noticed dirt slipping from their cloak’s sleeves. “She came to the Garden. She wanted to learn. To grow. But Malum. Malum, it would not let her leave with its fruits.”

Cheerilee felt a lump in her throat. “Someone in there killed her?”

The figure trembled with more intensity. “Malum, Malum, Malum.” They turned and began to trudge back towards the brush.

“Wait!” Cheerilee reached out and grabbed at their cloak. To her surprise, when she pulled it slid right off, and whatever was left beneath disintegrated into a pile of dirt. She blinked in surprise as a rich, earthy smell filled the air.

Daring and Cheerilee stared at each other, quiet and unmoving. A few minutes later, a waiter dressed as Princess Luna left a check on the edge of their table.

---

“Are you going to tell me this is a bad idea?”

Daring sighed quietly. “No, because I know you aren’t going to listen to me.”

“Then are you going to come along?”

“Again, no, because so far, you’re the only one of us who can see them. Must be your natural earth pony instincts.”

Cheerilee looked around the clearing, listening for any voices or signs of movement.

“Cheer, just… Please be careful,” Daring said, sighing and dipping her head.

“I promise, Yearly.” Cheerilee tried to muster a smile. “I promise.”

With that, the two exchanged a quick hug, and Cheerilee found herself alone in the forest. This time, there was no whisper or voice to lead her. No signs to follow. Just miles and miles of natural colors and plants to surround her.

She fished into her bag and took out a single plump berry. With a roll of her eyes she popped it into her mouth and chewed, letting the juices slide down her throat. It was a nearly sickening sensation, but the movement was automatic by that point. With that, she set off.

After nearly half an hour, she almost collapsed onto a set of rocks in exhaustion. With her stomach grumbling, she reached over to a low-hanging branch and plucked a few ripe berries. “I wonder if these ones are safe to eat…”

“Everything here is, my dear.”

She dropped the berries with a yelp as someone chuckled behind her.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. Please, help yourself. What grows in our Garden is yours.”

Cheerilee turned around to see a small green mare with closed eyes, a placid smile on her face. A bag was draped across her side, filled with flowers and fruits.

“Who are you?” she asked for what felt like the hundredth time.

“I am the keeper of this Garden,” said the mare.

The Gardener. The mare who seemed to be both a hero and a villain. A figure whose goals were unknown. Cheerliee suddenly wished that she had asked Daring to come with her.

“Do not be afraid,” the Gardener said, removing a large apple from her bag. “Please.”

Cheerilee’s eyes widened at the fruit. “Did you… Did you see her?”

“Ah.” A smile fell upon the Gardener's lips. “Your friend. She was such a kind soul, so excited to learn about what I had to offer. She was in tune with the earth, in a way that few are. I could feel her magic pulsing through her. It gave this place a life it has not had for a long time.”

Cheerilee swallowed hard as they spoke. “What happened to her?”

“There is evil hidden here, amongst the good.” The Gardener sighed. “Things that do not believe that our gift should be shared.”

Immediately she thought of the Forest God. Was he another character at play? Did he kill Applejack? Or did the Gardener?

“Have you met dear Ingenue?”

“Y-Yes,” Cheerilee whispered.

“Such a poor thing. But it is like your friend told me. One bad apple can not spoil the bunch.” She giggled quietly. “Your friend was very wise. She spoke of you.”

Cheerilee sat up straighter.

“She was so excited to show you.” The Gardener held up the apple, and Cheerilee saw that instead of a red or green, it was a deep shade of magenta… One that perfectly matched her own coat. The Gardener placed it in Cheerilee’s hooves with a sigh. “So wise, so powerful… It is a shame. I am truly sorry that she is gone.”

“...Thank you,” Cheerilee said. “I want to know what happened to her.”

“I wish I knew. But though I am the keeper of these grounds, I am not privy to everything that happens.”

Cheerilee considered this carefully. “How do I know that you aren’t lying to me?”

“Doubt is a weapon that one can learn to wield well.” Grass began to dance around the Gardener’s hooves. “But it is one that asks for caution. Many have doubted the Garden away, to the point where there was almost nothing left. They think our gift is a curse, for they do not understand it.” They looked up to stare into Cheerilee’s eyes. “Do you seek to understand?”

“I… What is the cost?”

The Gardener was quiet. “Knowledge requires sacrifice,” she said. “But not all are prepared to give it. Your friend was more than ready to, in the name of knowing. Others here are not as eager.”

Cheerilee weighed the apple in her hoof.

“What is your decision?”

“I’m sorry.”

---

Canterlot Police Archives, Evidence #99182, Archived by Detective Hardcase

The following is a note recovered from an unidentified pony suspect as being a part of the crew which raided a local archeology dig:

Caballeron,

I’ve stuck with you for this long, but I can’t do this anymore. You have to feel it too: we all have. There is something wrong with this artifact. I’ve watched you take dozens and I’ve kept my mouth shut because the money’s been good, but this?

Something is wrong with this one.

I talked about it with the boys and we all feel it. We all hear the whispers when we go to sleep at night, that endless, ceaseless chanting. It’s like something is living inside of this stupid pot, like that dirt is actually the ash of some demon wanting to kill us all.

I can feel it calling me, drawing me to somewhere! When I sleep, I dream of a forest hidden below a lake.

I can’t do this anymore. Straight Shot, Shallow Sea and I are leaving tonight. We’ll be gone by the team you read this.

Good luck.