//------------------------------//
// Sight 
// Story: Corrigenda 
// by Jay Bear v2 
//------------------------------//

Applejack knew she ought to be paying attention. Sparky prowled down amongst the quarry’s rock walls with fog thicker than pea soup and glowing a sickly green from moss and moonlight blanketing her vision. The Adventure Book nestled in her foreleg, she was putting her life on the line to find a way into the labyrinth. One stray step might send her tumbling over a cliff’s edge or into the witch’s hideaway. Applejack’s job was to watch Sparky like a hawk and keep her out of trouble, but between the cool granite against Applejack’s belly and the hours without end they’d spent searching that night, her focus strayed.
She thought back on all the witches and familiars they’d done in over the past thirty-nine days. That was a track record worth a little pride. The stranger’s list from Acherontia put Applejack’s jury-rigged guesses to shame, getting them a general time and place for each labyrinth weeks in advance. From there, Sparky and The Adventure Book got them in, and all three of their wits put together got them out.
Tonight, though, Sparky was having a rough time finding the entrance. With her muzzle buried between the pages of her book, she got within a skinny whisker of walking off an outcropping before Applejack whistled. Sparky snapped out of The Adventure Book, saw the edge, and hopped back. She nodded at Applejack and worked her way down a ramp in the wall on hoof.
Applejack shook her head in sympathy. No pegasus should be forced to drag their hooves in the dirt like that. Watching out for her was the least Applejack could do, considering…
Considering that Sparky had gotten herself grounded on account of saving Applejack’s sorry rump from the fire at Rarity’s. Saving a pony’s life once would be enough in most anyone’s book, but then she’d come back to talk some sense into Applejack outside of Acherontia. Two weeks after that, she’d shown up at Applejack’s door with a box of fine stationery in her saddlebags.
“You gotta make things right with Fluttershy,” she’d said before Applejack could speak, “so we’re going to write something to her.” Next thing Applejack knew, pen, paper, ink, blotting pads, envelopes, and even some out-of-date stamps were sprawled across her desk. She’d figured Fluttershy would be perfectly content to never hear from her again, but Sparky insisted, so they’d spent hours fretting over what Applejack could write. When they finally threw in the towel, Sparky had gotten up to leave without touching the stationery.
“You might as well pack it all up,” Applejack had said. “Appreciate you trying, but some things just can’t be made right.”
Sparky’d shrugged. “Okay. Try to make up, then.”
Applejack found herself lying awake that night, thinking over the onus that Sparky had given her. She’d clambered over to the desk and started jotting out that she hadn’t meant to do any of what she’d done, didn’t know all the facts, and so on. Those first dozen or so drafts filled up the trash until she tried something different: she wrote, “I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am that I hurt you and Rainbow Dash at Rarity’s home.”
Her apology poured out after that. The next day she showed it to Sparky, and together they’d hauled it out to a mailbox, addressed to a dorm at Star Swirl’s. Then she’d waited for Fluttershy’s reply. After a while of nothing coming back, she decided Fluttershy wasn’t in the mood to write her. She couldn’t blame her.
Then a week later, Fluttershy’s earnest letter accepting her apology, brimming with details about living in Canterlot, and asking to be pen pals arrived. Applejack had been flabbergasted. She’d written back, of course, and the two of them had gotten into a steady back-and-forth. Somewhere along the line, Fluttershy mentioned she had a long weekend coming up for the last day of summer, and Applejack hatched a plan to have Fluttershy come down and surprise Sparky with a visit. Fluttershy had accepted, bless her, and they’d scheduled her trip so she’d arrive while Sparky was tied up at Nurse Redheart’s getting a checkup.
A surprise reunion for Sparky wasn’t the only thing Applejack had in mind for it, though. She’d spent the past few weeks thinking on how to prove she meant what she’d written in that first letter to Fluttershy…and prove to herself she didn’t fear the pain anymore. Now, with a few hours left before Fluttershy would board a train to Ponyville, Applejack had made up her mind. As soon as Fluttershy arrived, Applejack would look her in the eye and repeat her apology word for word. If she could make up with Fluttershy, maybe there were a few other ponies she could make things right with at Sweet Apple Acres.
Of course, she might have some explaining to do, showing up at an apple orchard while harboring a distaste for the fruit, but she’d find a way.
Gravel behind her crunched under the weight of four pink hooves that’d seen better days. “Any yields from Rainbow’s perusal?” the stranger asked.
“Give her a minute.”
Down below, Sparky picked up the pace, making her way through the quarry at a trot, her wings flicking every few steps. Applejack couldn’t help but smile at her gumption.
“With the destruction of this witch, the ultimate objective of our alliance shall be achieved, to wit the elimination of all witches and familiars in Ponyville.”
Applejack nodded. Truth be told, she hadn’t tracked the stranger’s list of witches and familiars like Sparky had. Sparky would know this was their last hunt, though; her last chance to show off. No wonder she worked so ferociously.
“Hereat, I propose hosting a convocation for you and Rainbow Dash tonight at Acherontia.”
“It’s mighty thoughtful of you to throw us a farewell dinner.”
“My ambition is altogether distinct.” The stranger smiled then, an awkward, grimacing judder of their lips and cheeks unlike anything Applejack had ever seen on a living pony.
“I appreciate it,” Applejack said, looking away. “Sparky will, too.”
The two of them were quiet until Applejack recalled the plans she’d made with Fluttershy.
“Fluttershy’s taking the train to Ponyville today to visit with Sparky. Mind if she tags along tonight?”
“Her presence will unsettle nothing.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Sparky ground to a halt by a pool of water where a peculiar hole had opened up in the fog. She tucked the book under her wing—that must hurt with her pin feathers growing out, but tough ol’ Sparky didn’t even flinch—and knocked some pebbles in. They vanished without waves or a splash: she’d found the entrance.
A pink blur came back and caught Sparky between the eyes, snapping back her head and sending her crumpling into the fog. Applejack’s gut clenched as she sprang to her hooves and scurried down the cliff side. She’d been wrong, the pain had been biding its time for thirty-nine days, but now it’d gotten Sparky, and…
Then Sparky hoisted herself back up to her hooves, not a scratch on her. “Did you see that?” she said, indignant, as Applejack reached her side. She pointed to a pinkish splotch on the ground. “It hit me with a radish!”
Whatever hit Sparky got itself pulped beyond recognition, but it didn’t bear much of a resemblance to a radish: too big, not red enough, and frilly bits of leaf. Maybe a turnip or a fancy breed of parsnip.
Applejack let out a whale of a breath. “You gave me a real scare.”
“I didn’t think they could do that,” Sparky said. “Sorry.”
“Don’t you worry about it, sugarcube.”
The stranger arrived, their staff hovering close behind. The three of them nodded to each other, silently confirming they were ready to roll.
So this was it. After thirty-nine days, their trio would end with one last hunt, a reunion, and just maybe a new start.
Glaring light caught Applejack off guard, its angle too high to be anything new from the labyrinth. Applejack squinted into it. As her vision adjusted and she saw its red hue, she realized the sun was rising over the horizon.
That made it forty days with the pain still nowhere to be seen. Glory be.




RECIPE: Perfectly Preserved Ponies
This simple five-step recipe is a surefire way to keep ponies fresh forever! 

INGREDIENTS:
Grated apple (preferably something from the macintosh or winesap family)
Exactly a dash of rainbow
A secret ingredient
3 empty vessels
3 ponies, as good as dead

Step 1. Using a battery of cannons, pummel ponies until tender. Little ponies can be pretty hard to hit, so keep firing until there’s no ammo left.
Quick tip: Having trouble running out of ammo? Try improvising with whatever’s lying around! Rocks, turnips, even stale cakes will do in a pinch.
Meanwhile, cover one basement wall with knives.

Step 2. When the ponies escape the kitchen, chase them into the attic. They’ll try to counterattack, so lure them to a corner and trap them in the cage that was set up earlier.
Don’t forget! Secret Step 0: Set up a pony-trapping cage in the attic. Hang the cage from a chain attached to a slow-winding winch with lots of rusty, clanging parts. The ponies should see, hear, and feel every inch of their descent in Step 3.
Meanwhile, cover a second basement wall with knives.

Step 3. Suspend the cage over a large pool of water. Gather a congregation of alligators, affix friendship beams above their eyes, and add to the water. Set the winch to lower the cage towards the alligators as slowly as possible.
Meanwhile, cover a third basement wall with knives.

Step 4. Stay in the basement and position a lamp to cast four shadows on the wall without any knives on it. Then take one cannon—
Wait, wait, wait, am I forgetting something? Let’s see, I’ve got a home, some traps, a project, those villains coming to wreck all my stuff…
Oh, that’s what’s missing: my villains need a cool name! The editor in chief had censors, the violinfinita had critics, the ringmaster had lousy volunteers, and that big baby at the beginning had a bunch of burglars to buck out. My villains can’t just be “ponies.”
Hmm, let me think… Food critics? Bad tastes? Embodiments of that time I used baking soda when I meant to use baking powder and then everything came out of the oven super gross? Rotten milk?
Ooooh, I’ve got it! If I’m making preserves, that makes me the preserver, right? So my villains should be the opposite: spoilers! And no one beats spoilers like me. Check this out: Next chapter, Rainbow gets crazy powerful but Applejack gets to tell her story. After that, Fluttershy will live out her dreams, but she won’t be only one, so pay attention or else you won’t know what went wrong. The stranger is just pretending to be a big ol’ meanie and in the end, and I mean The End of Time, they’re totally okay with letting everyone die.
Here’s the funny thing about spoiler tags: they only work if you don’t peek. So now the question is, what am I going to do to keep you fresh, my little reader?
That’s right, this is the part where I blow a hole through your screen and drag you back into the basement with me! Do you think I covered these walls with knives for fun?

Step 5. Struggle uselessly against your handcuffs while knife-covered walls creep towards you. Stare, bug-eyed, at your last glimpse of home. Scream and cry to taste. Remember that the stranger, Applejack, and Rainbow Dash are as good as dead, so they’re not coming to save you—
They’re right behind me, aren’t they? Oh, good, and they’re firing killer rainbows at me, too. I knew those alligators with frickin’ friendship beams attached to their heads were a mistake. Go ahead and escape during the confusion; not like I can stop you. I’ll be here, getting my black heart smashed open, and wondering why I didn’t see this coming.
Wait a minute, I did see this coming. Why is this all so familiar?



“All aboard the 9:30 a.m. South Central Regional with service to Appleloosa and all points in between. All aboard!”
The time had finally arrived. Time for Fluttershy to begin her five-day break from her apprenticeship, a break she wouldn’t get again until next year at the earliest. To see the friend she missed dearly. To visit the village she called home. To indulge in the nostalgia of another harvest celebration.
Why, then, couldn’t she rise from her seat? Why could she so easily imagine the train rolling away without her?
Some of Fluttershy’s trepidation surely stemmed from a presentation Sunset had taken her to about the magic of The Adventure Book two weeks ago. Or, more precisely, from the fact she hadn’t divulged one word about it to Rainbow. At the time, absolute secrecy had seemed the best strategy against a pony who, not too long ago, had pushed her to lie to Sunset for a chance to learn anything about the book.
But that Rainbow had been replaced in Fluttershy’s life by a pony who wrote letters after each labyrinth extolling the courage of others and conceding her own weaknesses. Against this new Rainbow, Fluttershy’s defenses disintegrated, leaving only the secrets to which she guiltily clung.
Fluttershy could survive guilt. After all, she had tried to withhold Sunset’s initial invitation to study at Star Swirl’s and should have learned from it that honesty was always the best policy. She’d survive relearning that lesson.
“Doors close in five minutes for the 9:30 South Central Regional. All aboard!”
Fluttershy rose from her seat, took a step towards her train…and stopped, her hooves frozen in place by nameless anxieties. She knew she had to move. Equestrian railways were famously punctual, and delaying any longer jeopardized Applejack’s surprise. A surprise so thoughtful and friendly…and startling…and uncharacteristic…
And too good to be true.
Applejack had shocked her before, of course. Fluttershy still remembered opening Applejack’s first letter and, with total disbelief, reading, “I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am…” Her disbelief didn’t subside when she put the letter away, unsure of whether she would ever hear from, or speak to, Applejack again. Later that week, though, Fluttershy reread Rainbow’s first letters and discovered in them something she hadn’t seen before.


We were exhausted, overwhelmed, and cornered! I thought the stranger and I were goners, but then we saw Applejack…




…Applejack was so brave, distracting them so I could gallop to the heart…




Isn’t Applejack awesome?


Yes, the Applejack in Rainbow’s letters was awesome, as well as brave and a good friend to Rainbow. Nothing like the Applejack that Fluttershy knew.
In fact, the Ponyville that Rainbow wrote about was also unlike the Ponyville she knew. No ponies were cut to pieces, no bereft mothers took their own lives, no dreams burned down in the middle of the night, and no intruders intent on torture and murder lurked around corners. To Fluttershy, reading about Ponyville and Applejack in Rainbow’s letters was more fantastical indulgence than reminiscence.
Fantasy though it may be, Rainbow believed in it and strived to make it real. Fluttershy had endeavoured to craft a token of faith in Rainbow’s world by writing a letter to Applejack accepting her apology and offering to be friends. She and that Applejack had fallen into a regular correspondence afterward, and now she was one train ride away from seeing that world, and that Applejack, brought to life.
Or exposed for a lie.
“Doors are closing for the 9:30 South Central Regional! This is the final call for 9:30 service to Appleloosa and all points in between. All aboard!”
There was no more time for indecision. She had to go, but if she changed her mind, she could exit at a station on the way and turn back. Fluttershy walked, at last, up the stairs into the nearest carriage and proceeded to the rear of the train, where she’d booked her seat. She reached the door to her carriage and slid it open.
“YOU’RE KILLING THEM!”
A foal’s squeal, followed quickly by sobs, greeted Fluttershy.
“Shoot, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” a mare said. “I didn’t mean it. Please don’t cry.”
Fluttershy continued down the aisle until she found her seat, directly across from a chubby unicorn colt, whose sobbing had crescendoed, and a frantic unicorn mare too young to be his mother. No guardians appeared to soothe the pair, but that didn’t surprise Fluttershy much. She had grown used to seeing young unicorns walking around Canterlot by themselves, rather than guarded zealously as they were in Ponyville.
For a moment, she considered leaving them alone, but Sunset had urged her to speak up more in class…and these two young ponies looked so morose.
“Is everything okay?” Fluttershy asked the mare.
She turned to Fluttershy with an aghast expression. “I’m so, so sorry, ma’am. I’ll try to get him to stop, I swear.”
“Can I help?” Fluttershy asked with a friendly smile. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard him say—”
“Oh, I’m so stupid.” The mare levitated a copy of The Adventure Book in front of Fluttershy. “Have you heard of this?”
Fluttershy brightened as she recalled the presentation from two weeks ago. “It just so happens—”
“It’s this magic book that my brother and I love. We take our copies everywhere, but last night we were packing to visit our uncle in Appleloosa, and our parents thought the books didn’t work there.”
Luckily for them, Twilight Sparkle had gone to Appleloosa earlier that summer to set up the magical network that let the books work. “Well—”
“But our uncle wrote last week saying it worked there now. So I packed my book, but mom packed my brother’s bags and she didn’t pack his book.” She indicated the weeping colt. “Now he wants to read mine, and I told him it won’t work, because it’s my book, but he kept being so bratty and…” The mare slumped, planting her forehead against the seat in front of her. “And I said something really mean.”
By then, the colt was reduced to sniffling.
Fluttershy slid the book, which the mare set down after her frenzied explanation, back towards the pair. “You and your brother can share your book and read your own stories at the same time.”
The mare stared at her. “What?”
“The pages are enchanted with a tessellated, multiplex, visual-hallucinogenic spell,” Fluttershy said, carefully repeating the unfamiliar term from the presentation. “If you’re in the middle of a long story, it continues in any copy of the book you read, even if somepony else is already reading it.”
The mare kept her eyes on Fluttershy for a moment. Then she turned to the colt and levitated the open book between them. “Hey, kiddo, can you see your bees here?”
The colt’s horn flashed without effect before he reached out and adjusted the book so its pages, which to Fluttershy appeared to be the prologue of a novel, were visible to his sister. “These two are best friends,” he said, pointing to what he must have seen as a storybook illustration, “but they got lost, so I have to help them get back to their hive.”
The mare glanced to Fluttershy. “I had no idea. Thank you so much, ma’am.” She tousled her brother’s mane with a weary smile. “I’m sorry I said they’d be lost forever. Maybe, if you tell me what’s happening, we can help them together.”
“Okay!” He smiled back at her. “And then me and Cap’n Dapper will fight that dragon with you.”
She scoffed. “And how do you know about Captain Dapper?”
Their banter continued, leaving Fluttershy to settle into her seat. As she did, she found that a hint of enthusiasm for her trip had appeared. It might be true that some of Ponyville’s danger, Applejack’s callousness, and Rainbow’s stubbornness lingered. But they had all changed, too. Rainbow wrote with touches of her own form of humility, as did Applejack with compassion, and they both described moments of glee returning to Ponyville. Fluttershy could look forward to seeing all of that with her own eyes, despite whatever challenges remained.
She began to wonder if she had changed as well.
“Is that Cap’n Dapper?” The colt abandoned his sister’s book to stick his head out the window.
“No, kiddo, Captain Dapper isn’t real,” his sister said as she looked out the window with him. “That soldier does kind of look like him, though…so does he, and him…and him…” She ears flipped back. “Gosh, that’s a lot of soldiers.” She pulled her brother away from the window and slid The Adventure Book in front of him. “Why don’t you tell me what the bees are doing now?” As he complied, she discreetly lowered the shade.
Fluttershy glanced out her window. She saw no soldiers, but noticed that the platform was unusually crowded. Strangely, it seemed ponies were leaving the carriages near the front of her train. Then she saw that the station clock read 9:45. They were already fifteen minutes late; so much for the railways’ reputation for punctuality!
Muted sounds of a commotion in the carriage ahead caught Fluttershy’s attention. She peered down the aisle, but saw no clue as what might be causing it. However, the unicorns around her seemed to intently busy themselves with reading books, examining briefcases held in their laps, and in some cases, studying the floor or their own hooves. How odd.
Their carriage door rattled open, revealing a unicorn stallion clad in golden armor. As he marched into the aisle, trailed by two identical ponies, he barked, “Everypony, immediately collect your personal belongings and vacate this train. By order of the Minister of Transportation, all civilian rail service from this station is suspended until further notice.”



All wrong.
Rainbow should have been celebrating. She, Applejack, and the stranger had just finished taking out the last witch in the area, at least according to the stranger’s list. Ponyville had a ton of cool stuff planned for the start of fall. And she’d gotten awesome news from Nurse Redheart that afternoon.
Feeling like her life was about to fall apart had to be all wrong.
She stood in front of the entrance to the second level of Acherontia trying to figure out what was behind the stranger’s mystery dinner. If she had to guess, she’d say the stranger was about to break up their kick-flank witching-hunting team because there weren’t any witches or familiars left. Every second of working with the stranger had been awesome (if a little confusing—they had warned her and Fluttershy against following Rarity, only to recruit her later). She wasn’t ready for it to be over.
But maybe she was wrong. Maybe the stranger had plans they’d show to her and Applejack at dinner tonight.
Except the stranger hadn’t invited Rainbow. She’d found out from Applejack, who assured her the stranger meant to tell her and made her promise to come at sundown. What if the stranger had had second thoughts about a pegasus on their team who couldn’t fly?
Then again, Applejack had practically pranced away from the quarry that morning. She obviously wanted to quit hunting, maybe move back in with her family. When they met up for laurys games these days, Applejack pretty much only reminisced about Sweet Apple Acres or shared some news she’d gotten from Fluttershy. She never talked about hunting anymore, not that Rainbow could blame her. Covering for a grounded pegasus must have worn her out.
A breeze rustled through Rainbow’s mane and tugged at her feathers—her fully regrown feathers.
Nurse Redheart had told her at her check-up that afternoon: way, way ahead of schedule, Rainbow’s primary and secondary flight feathers had all come back in. She’d taken some test flights afterward, and although she’d struggled to gain much altitude or speed, she didn’t do too badly for somepony who’d just spent six weeks on the ground.
And that should have been the biggest reason of all to celebrate as she climbed the stairs up. Instead, she clung to her freshly-recovered wings as the last chance for her to stop being deadweight on their witch-hunting team. If there was something else bugging the stranger and Applejack, and they still split up…she didn’t want to think about it.
Inside, things looked pretty much the same as last time—buffet-covered table to the right, empty easel at the back with two chairs in front of it, lit candles around the room—but the mood felt completely off. Applejack moped by a window to the left while the stranger paced in a circle around the easel. Neither of them reacted when she entered.
“Are you guys okay?” Rainbow asked.
“Eeyep.” Applejack didn’t act okay, but she also didn’t act like she wanted to talk about it. She rose and walked towards the buffet table. “Might as well ring the dinner bell now that we’re all here.”
“Hey, before we do that,” Rainbow said, already feeling butterflies in her stomach, “I kind of have an announcement.”
Applejack paused by the plates and waited for her, but the stranger kept pacing. Rainbow cleared her throat to try to get the stranger’s attention. No dice. She took a breath and said, a little louder than she meant to, “I can fly again.”
The stranger stopped pacing.
“Lands sakes!” Applejack grinned. “I thought you were plucked clean ‘til winter.”
“Me too, but Nurse Redheart gave me the a-okay. I’m not a hundred percent yet, so…” The window on the left caught Rainbow’s attention. “You know what? I’ll just show you guys—”
“No.”
The stranger, in heavy, deliberate steps, faced Rainbow. She hadn’t noticed it before, but swollen dark flesh ringed their left eye.
“The fact of your splendorous repair is utterly manifest.”
“Thanks,” Rainbow said, “I think.”
“Adulation was not…” The stranger hesitated. Their jaw and throat muscles flexed as if chewing and swallowing the rest of what they were going to say, and they turned to the easel. “I posit that Kyubey is owed some thanks.”
Rainbow puzzled over that. “I don’t get it. I haven’t seen him for… Since before the mansion burned down.”
“Since the day of your wish,” the stranger said.
“Oh, yeah.” Her wish, the fire, and fighting Applejack really had all happened on the same day.
The easel levitated in the stranger’s magic and folded up in a series of loud snaps.
“For how long has flying strained you, Rainbow?”
“Just today, obviously.” Except…it hadn’t been just today. She remembered how, right after testing her lightning power, she struggled to fly back home. Then after she escaped the fire, she’d wavered in circles until she found Applejack. That had to be from exhaustion, though. She didn’t remember having trouble flying to Rarity’s mansion from Fluttershy’s cottage after the fight with Applejack.
No—she’d walked from Fluttershy’s cottage. She’d forgotten that.
The stranger made a stack out of some presentation cards and the folded-up easel, like they were ready to go. They didn’t leave, though. Instead they walked towards Rainbow, their eyes fixed on her, and asked, “Applejack, for how long have you detested apples?”
“Who told you I had a thing against apples?”
“You blamed the resurrection of your father,” the stranger said, as if oblivious to Applejack’s question. “Convinced that his miraculous return and the subsequent miasma of his traumas stripped the nuance from their flavor, you abhorred apples ever since. Do I err?”
“Let’s suppose you’re right. You got a point coming?”
“What day, in relation to your wish, did your father return?”
Applejack frowned.
“The day after,” Rainbow said for her.
“Yes,” the stranger said. “Now, Rainbow, I pose one ultimate question: would you remove your necklace?”
A shiver ran down Rainbow’s spine. Remove her necklace? The stranger might as well ask her to peel off her skin. She hadn’t taken off her necklace since she’d gotten it, even for showers and to sleep…but why? The only times she hadn’t worn her necklace were when it’d been stolen in a labyrinth, and that’d made her almost powerless.
“That sounds like something a witch would want,” Rainbow hissed.
“That’s enough!” Applejack hollered. She pointed to the stranger. “You’ve had your fun, now you leave Sparky—”
The stranger’s magic swarmed around Applejack and her necklace. The necklace snapped off, and she began to slide back.
“Let her go!” Rainbow shouted. “Quit picking on her!”
“Watch.” The stranger spoke in a whisper. Their eyes glistened. “Please.”
“I said quit it!” Rainbow headbutted the stranger, to no effect.
Two warnings was enough. She swung a right hook at the stranger that their staff knocked aside, but the uppercut she followed with connected hard on their chin. Applejack’s necklace clattered to the ground, and Rainbow scooped it up.
“Sparky?” The word came from across the room in a strained, distorted voice. Rainbow looked up, but where Applejack had been standing seconds ago, a plain white statue of an earth pony without any mane or tail teetered off-balance.
“Spar—rk—” the statue said before it toppled onto the buffet table. Oats and squashed fruit poured over its rigid surface.
Rainbow couldn’t move as slow hoofsteps echoed across the room. The stranger walked to the statue and levitated Applejack’s necklace away from Rainbow.
“Their ingenuity is incredible, all things considered,” the stranger said. “Kyubey’s masters, I mean. They recognized the woeful inadequacy of ponies against the vicissitude of witch and familiar labyrinths, but nothing they could do would strengthen you sufficiently or endow you with recuperation of acceptable speed. Instead they found it simpler to remove your weaknesses: bones, muscles…viscera. His masters had no use for these frailties except as the raw material for this.”
They tapped on the lifeless statue’s head.
“Kyubey’s master cannot control hunters directly, so they’ve repurposed your memories, mind, and soul, and built a sturdy vessel to keep them safe.” As the stranger spoke, Applejack’s necklace floated back to the statue. When it came within a pace, the statue shimmered, and Applejack’s amber hide and blonde mane appeared. Tenderly, the necklace wrapped around Applejack. She sputtered to life.
“Magic must have addled them,” the stranger continued, “or perhaps they found it unnecessary. Whatever the reason, the result is that a hunter possesses only the most elemental ability intrinsic to her race. Strength, flight, or levitation. Whatever had been unique to her—the magic of her cutie mark—is lost forever.” The stranger left Applejack coughing on the floor. “Do you understand?”
Rainbow understood perfectly. She was not the pony she thought she was. She wasn’t a pony at all. Her wish had killed Rainbow Dash, ripped apart her body, and used it to build the machine now listening to the stranger. She and Applejack were nothing more than alien weapons tricked into thinking.
Mannequins showing off their own caged souls.
Enchanted, lifeless statues.
As good as dead.