The second most comforting thing to Twilight was her friends.
A quick walk around the town turned up little. Rarity was obviously out of the question. Fluttershy would never look her in the eyes again. Rainbow Dash was not the best pony to see about this kind of thing. Pinkie Pie was stuck at work. It seemed her decision was already made. She dragged herself over to Applejack’s house and collapsed into the old rocker on the front porch.
While she sat there, waiting for somepony in the house to notice her, she looked at the high rooftops of Ponyville’s expanding business district. Her memories were slippery, and immortality would only make things worse, but if she squinted hard she found she could make the brutal square buildings slip out of the light. As the sun flared against panes of pastel light and caught dark patches of shingled rooftops and riverbanks, banking against the curvature of her half-shut eyes and the lashes in between, Twilight smiled. Ponyville looked just like it did in her memories.
The screen door opened. Twilight felt eyes on her, but she kept hers almost closed. Here was her image of peace. If she could just focus for a little while longer, perhaps the image would burn into her memory like a sun spot.
Applejack shook her. Twilight jerked in the rocker. Her hoof was freezing.
“You alright?” Applejack asked without letting go.
The image was gone. Her peace vaporized in the sun. “I’m okay. Sorry for occupying your porch.”
Applejack finally let go. “You coulda knocked and let me know you were out there. I feel bad to leave you sittin’ out here,” she said with a sincere look as she pulled up a chair from the other side of the porch.
“It didn’t seem right at the moment.”
“How long have you been out here?”
Twilight looked back towards Ponyville. The sun reached towards the taller buildings as if it also wanted to obliterate them. “I need some council, Applejack. You’re the only one who’s available.”
“Shoot, aren’t I the guest of honor,” she chuckled.
Twilight turned the rocker to face her friend. “Rarity came to my house today. She’s in trouble.”
“About the bank, right?” Applejack flashed a grim smile. “She came here this morning wailing up a storm about it. Fifty thousand bits.” She shook her head. “It’s not my place to tell ponies how to track their finances.”
“She came here first?”
“According to her she already talked to Pinkie about it. I told her the same thing Pinkie probably told her. I’m strapped for time and cash myself. The farm is still rebounding. We won’t be in the black for another few years at least. I gotta think big picture here, I said. I gotta think about the future.”
Acres of trees threw shifting brushstrokes of green into the sunlight. They splashed in the background to the sound of rustling leaves. “I want to help her,” Twilight said with conviction, “but I’m afraid my status might make any effort on my part seem like nepotism. I can’t just give her money.”
Applejack nodded slowly and said, “We both have to think of the big picture.” She looked down, and Twilight noticed a hint of shame in her eyes. “I suppose I could spare my pension from the ration department. You have a princess stipend too, I’m sure. Dash gets pension too.”
“That wouldn’t be enough on it’s own.”
They both sat back in their chairs. Twilight’s rocked softly. Applejack’s stayed perfectly still. “I know. Just thinkin’ out loud.”
“How is Dash? Have you seen her lately?”
Applejack shook her head. “You know how she gets. Applebloom’s working her hard to attend this graduation party she’s cooked up. They’re gonna string lights and hire a band and everything, and Applebloom wanted her to do some tricks like she used to. Said her classmates would have a field day with her. That--” she chuckled, “that was not the right thing to say, lemme tell you what.” A lazy breeze swept between the rows of apple trees and rolled across the porch. It occurred to Twilight the wind in town didn’t really smell like anything. Out here was a different story. “I’m making progress, I think. How’re you?”
“I don’t know,” Twilight said. “Busy. Cadence and Celestia cooked up this idea of taking the Crystal Heart around Equestria on a big victory tour to boost morale. It’s visiting all the major cities, including Ponyville.”
Applejack hummed in surprise. “That idea’s almost as bad as Applebloom’s.”
“I thought so too, until I got saddled with helping to organize the whole thing.”
“Now it’s a good idea?”
“No, it’s still a bad idea. The good idea would have been letting me organize it myself.”
Applejack laughed.
“Cadence wants the thing guarded by Crystallites, and Celestia wants a royal guard presence on top of that. They figure that if enough soldiers are around it won’t get stolen again. Have you ever tried to get two armies to coordinate?”
“Reckon I haven’t.”
“Well, the easiest way is to declare war.” Twilight smiled a little and tapped her hoof against the floorboard. “I just can’t stop thinking about Rarity. I’m doing fine. Spike is fine. Shiny and the parents are making the best of things in Canterlot. Luna and I had to block an attempt by some unicorn corporation from monopolizing the sale of hypoallergenic painkillers last week. These businesses are getting crazier every day. Equestria is ready to shoot tanks and planes out the wazoo--”
“But we don’t need tanks anymore.”
“Exactly.” Twilight felt the breeze again. What was the scent? “I still can’t stop thinking about Rarity.”
The wind died. Twilight shivered as her core heated up. Applejack shifted in her chair. Maybe she felt it too.
“Listen, Twilight. You know how big the Apple family is, right? We cover all four corners of the map. Every country, every service. There’s Apples. We believe in big families. For that matter, remember you’re as much an Apple as I am. Our porch is yours.”
“Thanks,” Twilight smiled.
“When a family is big enough, and there’s no threshold for this, but when a family is big enough, you’re bound to find one of everypony in it. There’s builders and welders and farmers and businessponies--you get the picture. When a family like ours is big enough, you find that there’s one of everypony in it. Somepony who agrees with you, somepony who doesn’t.” She gave Twilight a vague look. “Somepony who can help.”
Nervous air drifted up from the floorboards. “How exactly can one Apple help with a debt that big?”
Applejack rubbed her temples. “You’re not gonna like this Twilight. I know you want to help Rarity, but this could become precarious very quickly. Whatever you decide to do about Rarity’s problem, you gotta promise me you’re not gonna overreact or go crazy or turn me in. Do you understand Twilight? You can’t turn me in for this. The farm will go under without me.”
Shifting brushstrokes of green splashed in Applejack’s eyes to the sound of rustling leaves. They shook with passion.
“I have to be adamant about this. The indictment about the ration department almost killed me. I can’t survive in prison, Twilight. I belong out here. You can’t overreact.”
“I promise Applejack,” she said dumbly. “Please--what is it?”
The chair and Applejack both squeaked as they stood up. “Wait here.”
Twilight moved her head closer to the house as a few muffled voices floated through the cracks in the screen door.
“It ain’t no government pony, is it?”
“No, you’re fine, just get out here already.”
The door opened. Twilight snapped forward. The rocker squeaked and lurched. Applejack stepped onto the porch, followed by a tarnished gold earth pony Twilight vaguely recognized from a few of Applejack’s family reunions. With his tight slick back mane and muscular barrel, he would have looked just like a model for a war bond poster if it weren’t for the hideous scar running the length of his face between his upper lip and snout.
When he saw Twilight, he beamed. The scar tissue along his face wadded up at the seams. “Why didn’t you tell me it was one of the princesses?” he leveled at Applejack before dragging the chair right next to Twilight and kissing her hoof. “Your majesty.”
“Oh goodness, that’s not necessary, please,” Twilight blushed. “Pardon me--most ponies aren’t so eager when they first meet me.”
His laugh was full bodied, like fine beer. “They don’t send princesses to catch criminals, only to commute them.” His eyes darted around. “You’re not here to commute me, are you?”
His laugh smelled like beer too. Twilight gave Applejack a look and said, “I won’t comment on your hiring practices, Applejack, but what is he talking about?”
“You’re here to help that one unicorn with the bank debt, right?” Caramel interjected. “Good thing, too. The way she looked, she’s a goner without some sort of godly assistance--which, by the way, pardon my asking, but are you a goddess? I’ve always kinda wondered. Maybe that’s a rude question, but Celestia and Luna control the sky, Cadence, can control ponies, and you don’t really control all the much of anything, but you’re still an alicorn so that’s gotta count for something, right?” He turned to Applejack. “Right?”
Applejack looked momentarily dumbfounded before speaking. “When Rarity came over here,” she started slowly, “I dragged him over. He lives in that big apartment complex on the south side of town, and every other day of the year he works in the orchards and earns his keep like the rest of us, every other day of the year, Twilight, honest. He talked to her, tried to offer his help, but Rarity wouldn’t have it.”
“She got real pale in the face--well, paler,” Caramel added, “and I guess that’s when she came crying to you, right?”
Applejack kicked him gently. “He was just about to get back to working the orchard, but maybe you two can come up with a more roundabout solution for helping Rarity.”
Twilight considered her words very carefully. When she went to speak, she still came up blank. All her politicking classes failed her. Finally, she settled on a vague, “I haven’t seen you around the farm very often.”
“It was only recently that I came to Sweet Apple Acres,” Caramel replied.
“What brought you here?”
“I needed work.”
“Where did you work before this?”
“I served in the army. Fought in the war.”
“After the war, too? Did you extend your service?”
Caramel frowned. “I’m a simple pony, Twilight. I was never able to crack the intricacies of diplomatic talk, but if I’m reading you right, and that much I know I’m pretty good at, I’d say you’re trying to diplomatically ferret out my crimes.” His face stretched, revealing his teeth. “You don’t have to think so hard on my behalf, Twilight! All you gotta do is ask.”
Twilight hesitated. “What crime did you commit?”
“Desertion,” he drawled. “I figured you weren’t here to commute me, but I didn’t think you’d be here to interrogate me!” he said with an uproar of laughter. Applejack dug her hooves into the floorboards. They squeaked terribly under the weight. He continued, “You and I are both here for the same reason, Princess.”
“Call me Twilight, please.”
The wind blew sinister across his torn up face. “You and I are both here for the same reason, Twilight.”
“We were talking about Rarity,” Applejack reminded them.
Caramel leaned back in his seat. There was that smile again, all torn up and pink and hairless. “Of course. I’m sure you are thinking that I have some underlying motive to help you and your friend. I do. It’s money. I want lots of money. I grew up poor, Twilight. I lived poor, I fought poor. I darn near died poor once, and I won’t have that. This solution I have in mind is going to net us a great sum of money, a sum that I propose we split evenly between us, to the tune of twenty thousand bits each.”
Twilight shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t even think about any of this before I know what it is exactly you’re proposing we do. It sounds like you want us to break the law.”
Caramel sighed with the breeze. It smelled, too. “Whatever you decide to do about your friend’s problem, you gotta promise me you’re not gonna turn me in. Do you understand Twilight? You can’t turn me in for this. I’ve been to prison. I can’t go back. You can’t do that to me, understand?” Turning to his cousin, he added, “Do you mind giving us a minute?”
As Applejack stepped back inside, Twilight tried to imagine all the horrible awful violent things Caramel might propose. She thought back to Ponyville and its hulking steel buildings slicing through the space between thatched roof cottages. Pink against gold.
“Now, you gotta promise you won’t have me arrested for what I’m about to tell you.”
“I can’t do that,” she started.
“Oh yes you can. It’s as simple as raising your right hoof and saying it.”
“Fine. I promise. Now please, I just want to help my friend.”
“I do too, Twilight, I do too. But in order to help her, we’re gonna need to break a few rules.” Twilight saw his eyes as he leaned closer. Brushstrokes of green splashed in his eyes. “You figured that much else by yourself, yes?” he asked, tapering his voice to barely more than a whisper.
Twilight nodded. “I can’t agree to it without knowing what it is.”
“Of course, yes. You’re reasonable. I get that. Here’s what I have planned. Within the next three or so weeks, I have planned a series of--” he stopped, looked around, scooted his chair as close to Twilight’s as he could, and whispered, “I have planned a series of bank robberies that upon completion will leave us with approximately forty one thousand bits. This is a big deal, I can see it in your eyes, and I don’t begrudge you for it. This is an extreme step, but in a situation like this extreme steps are necessary. We are both in need of money, for very different reasons, yes, but we are still both in need of money all the same. I think that with your magical proficiency and my experience, we could execute several very safe and effective bank heists with little to no damage and zero negative repercussions. Think about it this way. The ENB is too big to fail. What will forty thousand bits mean to them? Nothing. It means nothing to them. You were talking earlier about corporations and their power grabs? Here is a way to take one corporation that I’m sure is at the government’s throat trying to secure more power for itself and reign it in. If the ENB is focused on internal damage, they will take a break from hounding you and the crown. They do hound you, don’t they?”
“I suppose they do,” Twilight said.
“There you have it then. Not only will you be saving your friend from losing her life’s work, you would also be gaining valuable time. You could pass business reforms while the corporation of all corporations licks its wounds. We wouldn’t be putting anypony out of a job. As little violence as possible. Certainly no killing. My pride stems from my professionalism.”
“How many do you have planned?” Twilight asked. Her words felt hot, but they turned to ice the moment they left her lips.
“At this point, a few. Look, what rulers haven’t broken their own laws for the greater good? Celestia did it when she banished Luna. The griffon king thought he was doing it when he tried grabbing more resources for his starving nation. Those were tough decisions they made for something more important than themselves. The kingdom. The people. Your friend. These are all worth breaking laws for, yes? Friendship conquers all.”
“Friendship conquers all,” Twilight echoed.
“You won’t need to worry about my motives. I’m a shameless thief, and what’s more, I know it. I’m in this for the money. I want to be rich, Twilight. Can you blame me? But in the end our objective is the same. We need cash. I’m too dumb to play the stock market, and you’re absolutely right in not pursuing the diversion of government funds into your friend’s pocket. Absolutely right. We were never given another option, Twilight, but that doesn’t mean we have to let life get the better of us.”
The floor squeaked. The breeze blew. Ponyville glared in the distance. The sky was above and the earth was below. What else was there to do? Twilight tried resettling herself in her chair and squinted off into the distance, towards her castle. Towards home. Where was it in all the progress? Where was the burnt remnants of her old library home, for that matter? What new building sat on top of it? A cottage? A school? A skyscraper?
“If you want to be an equal partner in this, meet me in the alleyway behind the Ponyville bank in three days’ time promptly at noon. If you show up, then I’ll consider the agreement ratified. If not, I’ll presume you chose a different route, with no hard feelings.” His chair squeaked as he leaned across his chair’s arm to face Twilight directly. “And if half the Ponyville police department is there waiting for me, I’ll know exactly who it was that ratted me out.”
Twilight nodded. Words didn’t feel right. They felt too malleable, like they might be twisted and hardened and stabbed into her back when she wasn’t paying attention.
Caramel was an Apple, that much was for sure. He would keep his silence. She wasn’t worried about him.
Caramel cupped his mouth and shouted, “Hey AJ! Bring out the business cider!”
As they waited for Applejack, Twilight said, “So, desertion, you said?”
“Yup,” Caramel replied.
“You know, the government formally pardoned all the draft-dodgers a few years ago. I don’t know if you went into hiding domestically or went out of the country, but whatever the case--”
“I’m no draft-dodger,” Caramel said plainly, his eyes hard and out of focus.“I deserted my post. Hippies got the pardon. Nobody’s pardoned me yet.”
Applejack emerged from the house gripping a tray of thin glass cups in her teeth. She mumbled, “This ain’t even your house,” before making another trip for a tall bottle of aged cider.
“There’ll be more time for pleasantries,” Caramel said as he grabbed a glass. “For now, let’s share a drink.”
Twilight noticed a date written in marker on the side. “Is that the date this was bottled?”
“Probably,” Applejack replied. “Truth be told, Granny does most of the bottling, and she still dates her pension checks to before the war. Gods know how old this one is.” She cracked it open and smiled as foam spilled over the lip. “Just like in the commercials.”
Twilight took a glass and swirled the ice around. Cold outside to dull the heat within. She heard the breeze against her ears. Nothing was more comforting.