//------------------------------// // Family Matters // Story: The Heart's Promise // by MyHobby //------------------------------// Adagio Dazzle watched in bemusement as two Sunset Shimmers struggled to corral their families. One, a pony who had fled her world after throwing away everything. The other, a human who had fled her world after having everything taken from her. Somehow, losing everything seemed to be the best thing to happen to either of them. Sunset Shimmer, the alicorn currently living on the far side of the mirror portal, scooped her young son onto her back. “Come on, Sunny. Sunny. Sunlight Shields, sit your butt down!” Sunset Shimmer, the other Sunset who had taken up residence in Fillydelphia, pushed her forehead against a small luggage case as they hauled their tails up a mountain path. Her daughter, Stardust, and her son, Dribble Drabble, ineffectually attempted to help by dragging the rolling suitcase in opposite directions. “Dribble, no, don’t push your sister—Stardust! We are on the edge of a cliff young lady!” The rest of the luggage was being supervised by Adagio herself, as well as Princess Sunset’s husband, the mirror-world Shining Armor, and the other Sunset’s husband, Hoops. Adagio was carrying just about as much as the two strapping stallions without breaking a sweat. She wasn’t quite sure anybody noticed. “Come on, kids! Why don’t you walk with Aunt Dagi and give your mommas a break?” On cue, all three children broke away from their mothers and clambered to Adagio’s side, scrambling beneath their fathers’ hooves briefly. Hoops rubbed his daughter’s mane as she passed, eliciting a brief complaint from the filly. The children crowded around Adagio, their eyes wide and their ears perked. “How come you’re not going with us, Aunt Dagi?” Stardust said. “’Cuz I frickin’ hate the human world, that’s why.” Adagio booped her snoot and watched as Hoops and Shining tried to haphazardly cover their young sons’ ears. “Chin up. There’s nothing really worse about it than this world. And I’m sure your mommas are gonna help all of your guys to have fun, but I have too many issues over there.” Stardust narrowed her eyes. “Issues or problems?” “Issues. Problems have solutions.” She looped a foreleg over Stardust’s shoulders and thrust her other hoof forward, never breaking stride despite the weight on her back. “Now listen, and you listen good. There is one thing I miss about it. I want you to promise me to beg your mom until she gives you one.” That piqued Sunny’s attention. He peered out from between his father’s legs and blinked his humongous eyes. “Wazzat, Aunt Doggie?” “‘Dagi,’ you lil’ knee-nibbler.” Adagio peered ahead to see the non-princess Sunset’s ears lay down flat against her scalp. “I want you to tell your moms to buy you a big, juicy, yummy cheeseburger.” Dribble Drabble smiled in his own, special, three-year-old coltish way. “Cheeburger!” Stardust, on the other hoof, seemed a bit more cautious. “What’s a cheese burger?” “Heaven on a bun.” Adagio snickered at the gormless, unknowing smile of Hoops, and the half-confused, half-trepidatious expressions on the Sunsets. “Trust me, kid. Several-thousand years of culinary progress have led to this exact moment.” The mountain path led them to a cave gaping out of the side, on the edge of an outcropping that acted as a shelf to hold a small group of guardsponies. The closest guard bowed at their approach. “Princess Sunset. Welcome back.” “Glad to be back, Sir.” Princess Sunset Shimmer bobbed her head as the guards parted to allow her family to pass. “Glad to be going home.” The other Sunset glanced back at Adagio and grinned. “From one home to another.” “You two really are a pair, you know that?” Adagio winked at the guard, who backed off exactly two hundred centimeters. Her preliminary advance spurned, she resolved to test the waters again at a later date. “Come on. Let’s get you guys home before the sun comes out. Gets hot as Hades on this mountain…” More guards were waiting inside the cave, all standing at the ready with spears in hoof. There was a lot of tension in the air any time somebody moved from one world to the other. The magic was still not fully understood. The two worlds did not fully trust each other. The concept of dual citizenship was in its infancy. Still, Sunset would not be denied. She had heritage in both worlds, and a keen desire to share that life with her family. All of her family. For Adagio, the timing could not have been better. In the innermost parts of the cave lay a pool of water. It was surrounded with crystals which only glowed in pure darkness. Any other light source would either overpower it, or cause it to extinguish; no one really knew which. The surface of the water was reflective and still. The water was warm to the touch, heated with whatever magic power caused it to function as a bridge between worlds. Those who were not already clothed spent the next few minutes getting dressed. Unlike Starswirl’s mirror, this portal did not clothe the traveler, though it did transform their bodies. It seemed the change came directly from the portal. Built into the crystals that formed the entirety of the room they found themselves in. Adagio Dazzle took a step back as the family lined up beside the pool. They went in one by one, Princess Sunset going first to help the children cross. The other Sunset, the one she had known the longest, paused before entering. She gave Adagio a hug. “I wish you were coming,” Sunset said. “I got too much baggage.” Adagio frowned, subtly pushing Sunset towards the mirror pool. “You’re better off just going together. Trust me.” “Your choice.” Sunset waved goodbye, then stepped into the portal and vanished from sight. The soft blue glow of the gemstones surrounded Adagio Dazzle as she stood alone in the room. She waited for a good, long moment to make sure they’d all gotten through safely and were not coming back. She even poked her head through the portal to make sure they had left the cave on the other side. Finding them well and truly gone, she sat at the edge of the pool and looked at her own morose expression. She was old. She looked old. She felt old. She’d been around since the First Age, when the fairies still controlled the heavens and the Draconequi mastered the changing of the seasons. When ponies were still in their infancy, unburdened by such lofty ideals as civilization and justice. Just a bunch of creatures trying to survive and get along, finding their own way through life. Before kingdoms and empires and war and poverty. She had seen so many governments rise and fall. So many great ideas become foul realities. So many children born and lives destroyed. And none of it had really mattered. “So what was she doing there?” came the question from the scowling reflection. Rather than answer, Adagio pulled a gemstone from her otherwise empty saddlebags. It was a green, multifaceted gem that fit in the center of her hoof. She had etched it herself, from the polished exterior, to the carefully-chiseled interior. A spell had been written into the jewel, activated by a particular song. She let out a low note. She had to hit it perfectly or the spell wouldn’t trigger. Her tone resonated with the gem and pushed magic through the carved pathways. The gemstone vibrated, carrying her tune long after her voice had grown silent. She held it for a minute, until it was painful to the touch. She hefted the gem and tossed it into the center of the pool. The reflective surface at once became broken by ripples, then waves. She had tested before what would happen if the pool were destroyed; she had chipped one of the many stones away. On the other side, the same stone had cracked on the opposite-hand side of the pool. The pool was in fact, as far as could be seen, two instances of the same object in two different realities, intrinsically linked in a far more concrete way than even the dual personages were. Whereas, say, the two Sunset Shimmers could live and die separately from each other, one side of the pool could not exist without the other. The vibration became a hum, deepening by the moment. She felt it in her bones, her blood, as the entire mountain began to hum along with the stone. At first it just felt like she was unsteady on her feet, but as the note bellowed, the ground shook. The light of the mirror portal flickered. She watched until she couldn’t stand the pressure, then turned and bolted for the exit. Dust fell from the ceiling, then rocks, then boulders. The floor split, and the pool drained itself into the depths of the mountain. A jolt threw her against the wall, but she pushed off and pressed forward. The ceiling collapsed, and the mirror pool went dark, drained of its power by Adagio’s powerful spell. The rest of the mountain seemed ready to follow suit. She galloped her way through the rocky tunnels. She was enveloped in darkness, only able to find her way forward by listening to the shouts of panic from the guardsponies at the entrance. Either instinct or happenstance caused her to duck beneath a crumbling stalactite. The dust of ancient stones grinding against each other threatened to choke her. There! Light! A guardspony pointed a lantern in her direction, silhouetted by the blazing sun behind him. He urged her forward with a hoof, until a chunk of the cave mouth came down on his back and knocked him to the ground. Adagio skidded to a halt at his side. The rest of the cave was ready to vanish into the mountain like the maw of a dragon snapping shut. She had only seconds. She glanced at the cave mouth and saw the other guards scrambling for purchase on the rapidly-shrinking ledge. She gritted her teeth. “Cuss my wrinkly dock.” She pressed her shoulder against the boulder pinning the guard down, straining with all her might. She imagined it had to be comical to the outside observer, a elderly mare attempting to literally move heaven and earth for one of Celestia’s hoof-picked guards. She wasn’t laughing, though. She was staring in growing hackle-rising fear at the structurally-unstable tunnel looking to devour them whole. The boulder shifted ever-so-slightly. She shut her eyes tight and punched the boulder with both forehooves. “For the love of God, move your butt!” The mountain shook just enough that her blow caused the boulder to roll aside. She sucked in a breath, hoisted the pony onto her back, and hightailed it out of there. It wasn’t a moment after she cleared the cave entrance that there was no longer a cave. A quick glance upward showed the shaking, tremoring rock slide that filled the mountain’s core completely. The quake subsided after a few minutes, allowing her to collapse in an exhausted lump atop a pile of rubble. She raised a weak hoof and beckoned the other guardsponies to her. “Yo! Get over here! He got clobbered on the way out! He needs a doctor!” The guards surrounded her, one immediately checking the unconscious pony for obvious injuries. The head of the outpost, a stern-looking pegasus, knelt in front of her, assessing her for potential trauma as well. “Are you hurt?” “I’m fine, chief. I’m good.” “Did you see what happened to the princess and her family?” “They’re safe. They were long gone before the earthquake happened.” Either the guard was extremely trusting, or he figured he had more immediate problems to take care of. “Ha’pence Dance needs to get to the infirmary, pronto. With his injuries, we’ll need as much room in the chariot as we can get. Can you hold out here until we can fly it back?” “No problem.” Adagio rose on shaky hooves and stalked towards the quake-battered, wooded trail down the mountain. “I know this forest like the back of my hoof.” The captain nodded and set about helping the others strap Ha’pence Dance down. The vast majority of the guards went with the temporary ambulance, while a few remained to try to dig their equipment out of the rubble. Adagio continued down the mountain, step by careful step, until she was out of earshot of the soldiers. And, just as importantly, out of sight. It was a small circle of trees, evergreen in nature, that hid her from view and surrounded her with a sweet piney scent. She sat down quietly and let out a slow breath. It was hot in her chest, fired by the bellows of terror and effort, but as it left her lips it came out as a faint, chill mist. Goosepimples rose on the skin of her legs and back. She rubbed her foreleg to return warmth to it, but even that faint friction’s heat was stolen in the next instant. All was silent around her, save for the faint crinkling of frost along the ground. The thin, spiked hexagons of ice grew like the branches of a dead tree across the ground, covering rocks and killing the smaller plants that could flourish on the mountainside. It climbed up the trees and coated the pine needles in a deathly white. The frost encircled her in a claw that threatened to bite her should she attempt to escape its grasp. Fog rolled all around, unfettered by the sunlight that was beating down on her just a second ago. She saw shapes in the fog. Faces. Ethereal pony-like creatures with glaring eyes and nickering teeth. They whispered to her in words she could almost make out. Adagio swallowed hard in an effort to hide her trembling voice. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Princeling Bean Sidhe and her Witless Warren of Windigoes. I’m touched you would come personally to make sure I’m playing nice.” A mist-like creature materialized before her. It was almost a pony, though one made from the wispy dusting of a winter storm. It did not move smoothly with muscles or sinew, instead as a cloud billowing from an unseen smokestack, attempting and failing to keep up with its own source, buffeted by bone-chilling wind. Its gaping mouth was frozen in a silent scream, from which words hissed as a mournful ballad. “Adagio Dazzle. Adagio the Siren. Adagio Gem-Carver… Adagio Weapon-Maker. You have had many names over the years. You would do well not to add ‘Adagio the Traitor’ to the list.” “Traitor?” Adagio might have been literally shivering in her horseshoes, but she still had her pride. “Who’s a traitor? I did exactly like the Master said. Both portals to the human world are destroyed. Here and in the Northern Wastes.” She stood up and moved as far away from the princeling of the windigoes as she could without becoming a popsicle. She gestured vaguely at where the cave mouth used to be. “And look! I even got rid of one of the alicorn princesses! You’re welcome!” Bean Sidhe’s voice rose to a trembling wail. “Sunset Shimmer yet lives!” “She’s long gone, far and away!” Adagio Dazzle growled the words, hoping that her frail-looking form retained at least some of the menace of a Siren. “As long as the Sirens have Starswirl the Bearded’s magic mirror, there’s no way she can ever come back to this world. Ever. So she’s out of our hair, and you didn’t even have to do anything. I’ll say it again: You! Are! Welcome!” “For one who seeks to please so dearly, you have a dearly displeasurable way of going about it.” Bean Sidhe’s black, recessed eyes sank even deeper as she drew closer. “If you seek to rule Equestria at last, you will need the Unseelie. The Master will not tolerate backtalk or half-measures.” “Half-measures?” Adagio smirked. “He’s kept you around, hasn’t he?” The windigo princeling shrieked in Adagio’s face, dusting her coat with deadly frost. “I could slay you where you stand!” Adagio brushed herself off with a trembling hoof. “Yeah. But that’s the thing; without mortal allies, you guys can’t change a dang thing in the physical world. You’ll have to trapse back to Dreamland with your tails tucked between your legs. And how would that work out for you?” Adagio bared her teeth to keep them from chattering. “So I get a little leeway. I do what the Master wants, how I want it done.” She turned away from the Fae and was dismayed to find that the circle of windigos remained, all looking to devour her at the slightest sign it was allowed. “So cheer up sweetheart, your revenge is at hand. Heck, it's inevitable at this point. Just sit tight and everybody you hate will be nothing but ash in the wind.” Bean Sidhe chuckled, a foul sound that seemed like the cracking of dying trees in the midst of winter’s night. “Not nearly everybody.” The wind whipped at Adagio’s mane as the Unseelie Fae flew away at the speed of a stampede, biting into her cheek with an errant sickle of ice. Blood ran down her face and dripped onto the ground, melting the frost that had killed a lovely flower growing in the shade of a tree. Adagio leaned over and slumped against that tree, allowing it to bear her weight in a way few other things could. Warm returned to her bit by bit as the fog parted and the sun shone on her again. She heaved a sigh and spoke to whoever cared to hear it. “If it’s gotta be this way… then it’s gotta be this way. ’Til the end of all things.” Apple Bloom wiped sweat from her forehead and surveyed her work. The wagon’s wheel spun freely at last, thanks to a hefty application of grease and even more hefty application of Apple Family grit. She tapped the spokes with a wrench and stuffed the tool into her pocketed vest. Today was the day, she had decided. She was going to tell her family she wanted to move out. Big Mac, she knew, would be fine with it. Might even welcome it, if he wasn’t too bothered about having one fewer set of hooves around the farm. Cheerilee would repeat the same thing she’d said for years; “Live your best life.” Apple Bloom wouldn’t be nearly far enough away for her niece Cinnamon to know the difference. But Applejack… Oooooh, Applejack. Maybe she should take her aside and speak with her alone. Spike seemed to think so. Apple Bloom shuffled her way towards the farmhouse, where Applejack was preparing the evening meal. The inviting smell of baking bread and fried vegetables gave her steps a little pep, fighting off some of the anxiety she’d been wallowing in. There was the former mayor herself, sweating over a pot of boiling potatoes. Applejack glanced up as her little sister ducked into the doorway. “Howdy, AB. Finished your chores already?” “Pretty much, yeah.” Apple Bloom loomed behind Applejack and perused the massive meal she was orchestrating. “Looks like you got us a feast a-brewin’.” Applejack’s expression didn’t much change from its air of concentration, but her voice was light. “No mistake. Mac and Cheerilee are bringin’ Grandpère for a visit. Wanted him to feel welcome.” “I’ll help yah out.” Apple Bloom removed her headband and headed to the washroom to clean up. On her way, she caught a familiar sight in the living room: A picture of the family (and the Riches) that had been sitting in the mayor’s office for quite some time. “Hey, you found it! The Zap Apple harvest!” “Darn tootin’. Those morons at City Hall near threw it out.” Apple Bloom took a moment to admire the picture, especially the smiling face of Granny Smith. She chuckled to herself; she was starting to see some of Granny’s laugh lines form on Applejack’s face, at least when Applejack was feeling particularly smug. What would Granny Smith have said about Apple Bloom moving out? A little tingle of warmth touched her heart at Granny Smith’s last words to her. “Apple Bloom, you three were what made life worth livin’. Now live yours.” With those words of encouragement bolstering her, she went to clean her coat of sweat and her hooves of mud. She came back just as Applejack began to slice the potatoes. It looked like they were having a nice, cheesy au gratin. Apple Bloom sat across from her sister and helped her slice. “So, I got somethin’ I wanted to talk with you about.” Applejack didn’t miss a beat, but still shot Apple Bloom a smile between cuts. “Shoot, Sugarcube. Anytime. What’s eatin’ yah?” Apple Bloom scooped the first potato onto Applejack’s growing pile. “Y’know how I completed my apprenticeship with Zecora?” “Right. A couple months back.” Applejack let out a little laugh. “Y’ thinkin’ of sellin’ potions at market? I’m thinkin’ we could set up some space for you at the stall.” “Not exactly…” Apple Bloom stared at a half-cut potato in front of her, her knife hesitating to make the last few cuts. “I wanna… I was thinkin’…” She pressed her lips together, her normally mile-a-minute mouth bracing for impact. “I’d like to open… my own potion shop.” “Oh!” Applejack’s movements increased in speed as her mind processed the information and turned it towards bit-making. “Well, sure, you’d be sellin’ all kinds of potions and whatnot. You’d need your own stall. We could probably help you out and getcha the stall space next door. Apple Family Apples and Apple-Related Potions. Not sayin’ you’d need to only sell apple potions, but it makes for good branding. We could pay for your table-space until the potion sellin’ takes off—” “See, that’s the thing…” Apple Bloom rubbed the back of her head. “I can’t really transport that many potions safely every day to bring them to market… and the barn ain’t exactly a full kitted-out laboratory. Ain’t even got space for my imported Giraffican cauldron.” “Yeah, true ’nough.” Applejack deftly flicked a potato slice onto the pile with the tip of her knife. “We’re overdue to build you some sorta outbuildin’ that you can customize to suit your needs and such. An’ we can always rent some storage in town to put your potions in when you ain’t at market. Once Big Mac gets back, the three of us can talk floorplan and materials.” “An’ I’d appreciate that a lot, but…” Apple Bloom couldn’t bring herself to look at her sister. “Y’see, I already got a place I’ve been lookin’ at.” Applejack didn’t seem to catch on. Or else, Apple Bloom feared, she was being purposefully obtuse. “Like a prefab buildin’? If’n that’s what you want, AB, but it’ll be cheaper and more fulfillin’ to build your own laboratory on site. Lets you decide the hows and the whatfors instead of whatever Mr. Rich can budget for.” Apple Bloom turned her eyes down. She carefully placed the knife and separated the potato from itself. “I mean there’s a place in town I’d like to buy. It’s got space for a cauldron, lab, and shop on the first floor, and a garage for workin’ on carts and such. An’ the second floor has plenty of livin’ space. Real central to town, near the market. I could just move my stuff in, build some shelves, and be good to go.” Applejack sighed. She did that a lot lately, Apple Bloom noticed. It seemed to be her go-to onomatopoeia when she had decided she wasn’t going to move out of the way of an oncoming impact. “Apple Bloom… Y’ ain’t gonna be able to work on the farm if’n you’re livin’ in town like that.” Apple Bloom’s mouth dried out, to the point where licking her lips would probably chap them. “Yeah. It’d become a full-time job to keep the shop in order.” Applejack furrowed her brow and leaned on her forelegs. She looked right at Apple Bloom, giving her full attention. Bloom saw no acceptance in those eyes of hers. No give at all. Just resolute, bullheaded, Apple-Family grit. “Apple Bloom, there ain’t no way you could work two jobs full time at once. Part time potion-makin’ and handipony work is fine, but it ain’t something you can focus on all the time. Not when the farm needs you.” “You were mayor for four years, Applejack.” Apple Bloom felt her nerves fraying. The conversation was going exactly the way she was worried it would go. Applejack was gonna take the exact route she knew she would take. And yet, Apple Bloom couldn’t help but go with the speech she’d already prepared. “You were working at City Hall full time. The farm did good, AJ. It did great! We even hired on other ponies.” She pressed her forehooves together, her stomach falling as Applejack’s expression remained firm. “So I figured that when your term ended, that meant you’d return to the farm and I’d be able to… to…” She looked away, to the floor, unable to maintain eye contact any longer. “To live my dream.” “The farm and the family are one and the same, Apple Bloom.” Applejack’s voice was as firm as her glare, as certain as a mountain. “I regretted every moment I spent in office, but I knew at least I was gonna be able to return to the farm and my family. I knew that there was nobody else who could take my place. And there’s nobody else who can do what you do besides you. The farm needs you just as much as it needs any Apple, Bloom.” “You did good in office, Applejack.” Apple Bloom felt very alone in the kitchen beside her sister. “You needed to take office, or you wouldn’t have been able to forgive yourself. I feel the same way about—” “We’ll work somethin’ out, Apple Bloom.” Applejack got up from her seat and tended to the rising dough. “We’ll get you that outbuildin’. You’ll be able to live your dream and be part of the family.” Apple Bloom’s eyes shot over to her sister. Her hackles rose as that darned Apple Family grit got itself stuck someplace sensitive. “I ain’t gonna leave the family just by workin’ somewhere else, Applejack!” Applejack’s frown could be seen deepening as she moved the dough from its place to the oven. “Darned right you’re not.” “Do yah even remember the day I got my Cutie Mark?” Apple Bloom said, gesturing to the image of an apple blossom and two buds on her side. “It weren’t ’cause of applebuckin’, it was ’cause of my potions! It was ’cause of my friends helpin’ me to see what I really wanted to do in life! I don’t wanna do farm work, Applejack, I wanna be a potion brewer.” “We just got this family back together,” Applejack snapped. “So I ain’t gonna let you tear it apart!” Apple Bloom stood up and tromped over to Applejack. She didn’t believe what she was hearing. It was like Applejack was in an entire different conversation. “Applejack, what is wrong with you? Did workin’ in politics all those years really make you this paranoid?” She shut her eyes and forced herself to breathe easier. It was difficult. The urge to bite back was ever rising, ever-sweetening. No, it would do no good to get mad at Applejack for thinking irrationally. She was obviously already upset about something else. Something that she was projecting onto this conversation, making connections where there were none. “I… I ain’t leavin’ the family. Town’s only twenty minutes away.” “But the farm is right here.” Applejack tapped a firm hoof on the countertop. “And we’re finally all together right here. Everything can go back to the way it’s supposed to be. Just like it always was.” Apple Bloom’s eyes went to the living room, where the picture from a years-old Zap Apple season sat. The one Applejack had recovered that day. Of course. The way it was supposed to be. “Applejack…” After a moment, she rested her hoof on her older sister’s shoulder. “It can’t all be the same as it was. We all had to move on and grow.” “If we leave behind what works, we’ll lose our way.” Apple Bloom reached out to hug her sister. “If we don’t move forward, we move backward, and never become what we might be—” Applejack pressed her hoof against Apple Bloom’s chest. She raised her head to look her younger sister in the eye. “We’ll talk about the outbuilding later.” Apple Bloom stood still with her foreleg outstretched for a moment longer. Right, they’d talk later, about what Applejack wanted. She let the moment build, her heartrate rising, until she finally stomped on the wooden floorboards. She turned away from Applejack and marched back out the door, making a bee-line to town. She had to talk to Spike. To see him. To hear him say it’d all be okay— Spike was on a mission with Twilight. He might not even be in Ponyville. Apple Bloom shut her eyes tight and let loose with a mighty shout. She kicked her hind legs out and connected with the wagon she’d been working on. The kick ripped the wheel right off of its spokes and sent it rolling into the orchard. She continued towards town regardless, because right that second, anything was better than hanging around with Applejack. Applejack wasn’t really sure what to think. She wasn’t even sure she had been thinking. She looked out towards Ponyville, which lay beyond the borders of Sweet Apple Acres. Outside of anything she could protect. Outside of anything she really understood. She knew apples. She knew family. She knew hard work and dedication. She knew honesty. She didn’t quite know what to do when Apple Bloom said she wanted to leave. So of course the Apple Family stubbornness had risen. Of course she had wanted Apple Bloom to stay. Within the farm, within her hedge of protection. So of course she had said just exactly the wrong thing and hurt Apple Bloom. The rest of the family was still at the table, eating thankfully, if a little uneasily. The absence of Apple Bloom weighed heavily on all. Especially Grandpère Pear. The old stallion chewed slowly, a smile always ready whenever his great-granddaughter Cinnamon looked his way, but otherwise, he was serious. He had immediately wanted to head into Ponyville to look for Apple Bloom. Apparently, he and Big Mac had found her at the Seeds of Friendship Public Library, but they hadn’t been able to convince her to come home. Apple Family grit, Applejack thought to herself, was a two-way street. The bunch of them worked together to clean the table, store the leftovers, and send little Cinnamon to bed. Grand Pear wanted to sleep in a chair in the living room, so blankets were brought out for him. Mac and Cheerilee wished them goodnight and headed for their little farmhouse on the edge of the orchard. Applejack stood alone in the kitchen, leaning against the open window. It was a warm night, the type where you invited the breeze to freely come and go in and out. The stars sparkled overhead through the slightly-wild cloud cover of the Everfree Forest. The moon glowed bright, casting its silver shine across Sweet Apple Acres. Applejack’s ear twitched at the sound of unsteady hooves. “You need somethin’, Grandpère?” The old stallion sighed as he joined Applejack by the window. The two of them looked across the fields, to the faint glow of Ponyville beyond. “You know Apple Bloom’s already made up her mind,” he said at last. Applejack rested her head on the windowsill. “Yeah, I guess. I don’t know what to do. Never thought… I don’t understand why she’d wanna leave.” She tossed her hat across the kitchen, where it spiraled neatly onto the back of a chair. Her eyes spotted the picture of the family hung on the wall, the very one she’d recovered the previous day. She looked down at the aged stallion by her side, who looked toward Ponyville with a palpable yearning. She figured if anybody could sort out her thoughts, it’d be him. “Grandpère… Ever since Granny died, I knew I was the new matriarch of the family. That means I got a responsibility to them. To see them happy. To see them safe. See them well-fed. See them comfortable. I can’t do my job if’n she’s not part of all that. I can’t live up to Granny Smith if Bloom ain’t here.” Grand Pear furrowed his brow, chosing his words carefully. “You can still help her. Just because she left the farm doesn’t mean she left the family.” “But it’s like…” Applejack rolled her eyes and sat down. She cast a glance at her Cutie Mark of three apples. “After Ma and Pa died, I thought I needed to leave, too. As soon as I got out into the world, I felt more lost than ever. It took a literal miracle to bring me back home. I don’t want Apple Bloom to go through that same kinda pain.” “But she might have to experience that pain. We all live different lives, Applejack.” Grandpère had to force his next words through a constricting throat. “Or… Or she’ll be like your Ma, and find out she belonged out there all along.” Applejack turned away from her grandfather, towards the orchard. “It ain’t the same thing at all.” “Applejack,” Grandpère Pear said, “listen to me. You say it’s Apple Family grit, and that may be true enough, but there’s something else in you and Bloom. Something worse. It ain’t grit. It ain’t gonna help you get through tough times, just create them.” “What’re you talkin’ about, Grandpère?” When Grand Pear spoke again, it was with tears in his eyes, and a wheeze in his chest. “The last time I saw your mother, it was when I disowned her for taking a new path in life. Don’t be like me. Don’t let the Pear in your blood poison your heart.” “Don’t think like that!” Applejack hugged him tight without a second thought. “Everythin’ good about Ma came from you, you know.” “Please, just accept her.” His voice was quiet, but firm. Nearly desperate. “Tell her you accept her decision, even if you have to pretend.” Applejack pressed her lips tight together. “I can’t lie to her, Grandpère.” “Would you rather lie, or lose your sister, Applejack?” Applejack shook her head softly. She let a breath out through her nose. “Guess… guess I need an attitude adjustment.” Grand Pear pulled back just enough to look up at her. “Please talk to her.” “I will. Promise.” Applejack released him and returned to the window. The anger she had felt remained, but muted. She felt ashamed. Ashamed that her first reaction was to shut Apple Bloom down. No, not shut down. To redirect her. To coddle her? Nah, that’s not quite right. To protect her. Was she really so wrong? She listened to Grandpère Pear return to his seat to spend the rest of the night in a restless slumber. He had wisdom, gained through years of experience and no small amount of mistakes. She would do well to heed his advice. She needed to heed it. She would speak with Apple Bloom first thing tomorrow. She would retract her statements and allow Apple Bloom to make her own mistakes in life. “Decisions,” she hissed to herself. “Don’t call it a mistake.” Just like when she was a politician, she would have to censor her real feelings in order to avoid upsetting somebody she considered in the wrong. She slapped her forehead. That thought was harsh. Borderline unreasonable. Apple Bloom wasn’t wrong. She just wanted to stretch her legs in a way she couldn’t on the farm. That was all. That was a worthwhile thing. Admirable, even. Why was she even angry? Because Apple Bloom refused to see things her way! Applejack dunked her head in a trough of cold water. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t her. These weren’t the thoughts of a caring older sister who wanted to see their younger sibling succeed in life. These were the thoughts of a grumpy old mare who’d lost faith in family and trust. And that was most certainly not Applejack, no sir! What would Granny Smith have said to Apple Bloom? The thought came as unbidden to her mind as the negative tirade. Unlike the anger, this seemed to speak much clearer, much more persuasively. This came from Applejack’s heart, the innermost portion of her being. She thought back to when she’d left the farm, before she’d even chosen a Cutie Mark. It was so soon after Ma and Pa died. She hadn’t even had time to mourn, to let it sink in. She just wanted to leave, to go as far away from the memory of her parents as possible. To try to outrun the pain before it set in and consumed her. Weighty thoughts for a young mare, too weighty for her to really understand what she had been going through. She felt numb and wanted to feel nothing. Had Granny Smith stood in her way? Had she blocked her path and refused her help in the most horseapple-encrusted time of her life? No. Granny had let her go. Even set up a home in Manehattan with her Aunt and Uncle Orange. Even packed her lunch and hugged her goodbye. And just before she had left, Granny took her aside and whispered “Y’all are always welcome on the farm, Applejack. No matter where you call home.” Now, as Applejack sat at the trough with a dripping face, she wondered how she’d ever developed the need to keep Apple Bloom cloistered. It ran counter to everything her family had drilled into her since day one. In order for it to exist, love requires the ability to either chose it or reject it. Without choice, it’s nothing more than possession. Applejack loved Apple Bloom. So she had to set her free. She took stock of where she’d ended up. The war in her mine had taken her in a wandering bee-like path around the yard beside the farmhouse. She had strayed to the barn, where Apple Bloom’s instruments of potion-making were stored. She rested a hoof on the red-painted wood. “I’m sorry.” A rustle of wings caught her ear. She stiffened at first, but then relaxed when she realized the noisy pony wasn’t exactly sneaking around. They wanted to be noticed. Even so, it was a surprise to have a visitor at this hour, let alone the one who stepped into the moonlight before Applejack. Applejack tilted her head back to look up, up, up at the alicorn who had shown up unannounced to her farm. “Princess Celestia? What brings you to the Acres?” Princess Celestia, High Princess of Equestria, was cloaked from head-to-toe in a dark gray robe. Applejack could just see the scar on her chest whenever the wind blew the fabric a certain way. When she looked at Celestia’s mane, she could see that the once-vibrant living color had faded to a pale pink across most of it, with only small stripes of rainbow showing through. Celestia had changed, since their adventure in Beefland some five-ish years before. Celestia’s response was to frown. She lowered her head to Applejack’s level, glancing around as though she feared discovery. “Please don’t tell anybody I was here.” “Sure.” Applejack brushed her own blonde mane back and walked towards the farmhouse. “Uh, want somethin’ to drink? I got some fruit punch in the ice box.” “No, thank you.” Celestia’s long legs brought her in front of Applejack. She spread a wing in a polite halting gesture. “Could we… perhaps… walk together in the orchard?” “Whatever you say.” Applejack knew the Acres like she knew her own hooves, and she spotted Celestia’s guardsponies immediately, hiding in the branches of a nearby apple tree. Sturm and Drang, some of the princess’ most stalwart companions, nodded in acknowledgement. She decided to steer her walk with Celestia in an arc around their makeshift headquarters. “So, what brings you to Sweet Apple Acres at… somethin’ like three at night?” “In truthfulness, I need a friend.” Celestia’s face was hidden by both the cloak and the different heights the two mares had. “I have… run out of people to talk to. At least, how I need to talk right now.” She glanced down at the farmer and lowered her voice. “Would you be that for me, just for a moment? A friend?” Applejack wrinkled her forehead. “Why me, though? You’ve known Twilight longer, and you got more in common. Your sister’s probably reachable through a magic mirror. You got more than your fair share of opinionated mayors to choose from.” “You’re right about all of that.” Celestia closed her eyes and breathed a long sigh. “But I can’t tell any of them what’s really dragging me down. I need someone closer to earth. Someone with less of an agenda than Twilight or Luna… and especially the mayors. Do you understand?” “Not really.” Applejack rubbed the top of her head and wished she had brought her hat outside. “It’s been a long time since we returned the Elements of Harmony to the tree. And I’d never touch politics again if’n my life depended on it. So I’m not sure exactly how talkin’ with me is gonna help somebody with the world on their shoulders like you.” A small laugh, barely a chuckle, came from the princess. “You are more than you give yourself credit for. It is not your ability to wield limitless power, but your honesty that I appreciate. It is not your political acumen, but your steadfast heart I seek the council of. Will you just walk a spell and listen?” Applejack nodded. Seemed like a pretty Celestia thing to say, all things considered. She knew Celestia valued such things, even if she wouldn’t always heed their words. “So what’s on your mind?” “Too many things to list in one night, I’m afraid.” The two of them came to a pond in the midst of the orchard. The soft-blowing breeze sent ripples across the surface of the water and left the swing gently creaking back and forth. “Unfortunately, we are at war with Saddle Arabia.” “War?” Applejack choked on the word in her surprise. “But why? Last I knew, Amira and her buddy were on friendly terms with us. She seemed nice when I met her, at least.” “The sands are not the only thing that shift in the Dry Ocean.” Celestia touched her hoof to her chest. “After it was revealed that I had lost my power over the sun, my political rivals swarmed out of the woodwork. Even across the sea. That’s why the Saddle Arabian-Felaccian border has been in conflict. In Equestria, we have the sirens; in Felaccia, Andean fears a coup; and in Saddle Arabia, Amira has been deposed. Her replacement is an Arabian Horse by the name of Alazṓn the Half-Djinn.” “Half-Djinn.” Applejack skewed her muzzle to one side. “Didn’t think djinni could interbreed with mortals.” “They cannot, according to my knowledge of them. They are like draconequui, creatures of thought with only a tenuous connection to this world.” Celestia let her wings droop until the feathers could be seen peeking out of the bottom of her cloak. “He is clearly puffing himself up in the eyes of his subjects. Something I’m fairly familiar with.” She glanced at Applejack, then focused her gaze on the moon’s reflection. “He claims that in assisting Felaccia in the defense of their border, we are seeking to build an empire like the changelings of old. But Applejack, I have spent the last five-hundred years attempting to keep the borders exactly where they are. Stopping wars before they turned to bloodshed.” She stomped a hoof, but there was no strength behind it. Only weariness. “This will be the first openly-declared war in all the world since Queen Chrysalis was slain.” Applejack stared into the middle-distance, unsure of how to answer. This was exactly why she’d told Celestia she wasn’t interested in politics. She had no great wisdom, no knowledge of how to maneuver the landscape of policies and proclivities of the dozens of nations Equestria had a relationship with. Before she could voice her thoughts, she heard a faint whisper from Celestia. “And I won’t live to see any of it.” Applejack blinked. She shook her head. She stuck a hoof to her ear and wiggled, hoping against hope that she’d misheard. “Come again?” Celestia sat down at the water’s edge. She dangled a hoof in the water. “You know of my dreams, do you not? You know that there are times when I receive premonitions. Pictures. Messages. Little glimpses of what is to come.” “I mean, I didn’t think they were usually helpful, but… okay.” Applejack let her ears droop. “Are you sayin’… you saw somethin’?” Celestia nodded. “I see myself. I see blood. I feel fear and anger. A monster rises out of shadow and flame. A spear strikes my chest. I am thrown through a window onto the side of Canter Mountain. I lay there, until my vision fades to nothingness. I am to die very soon, Applejack. Violently and alone.” “No!” Applejack jumped up and laid her hooves on Celestia’s shoulder. “This is why you gotta talk with Twilight! She could do somethin’ about it! We can’t just wait around and watch you die!” “Applejack, listen!” Celestia threw aside her cloak, bearing her heavily-scarred and burned body for the world to see. “Look at me!” Applejack did. The once strong body of the princess, endlessly graceful and beautiful, had turned thin and sickly. Her muscles had deteriorated. Her coat, once white with the lightest hint of rose, was now gray and patched. Her wings had lost many feathers, leading Applejack to wonder if she could even fly. The scar in her chest drew the eye like a bonfire on a hill. Celestia spoke softly, calmly, now that she had her friend’s attention. “I have lived for over a thousand years. I have been the Princess of Equestria for centuries, seeing pony after pony fade and pass away. I have fought bloody battle after bloody battle, but it only led to more pain. Now, after having my own mother attempt to kill me, after having my great power diminished, I see that I have lived too long. My body no longer has the strength to continue. I long for peace.” Applejack felt tears well up in her eyes. Faintly, her thoughts turned to Granny Smith on her death bed, looking haggard and worn. Unlike Celestia, Granny’s life had been fulfilling. Celestia just wanted to leave. “But… we need you, don’t we?” She regretted the words the instant they left her mouth. She was being selfish, asking Celestia to continue on it agony until the end of time. If only she could restore the princess, give her back her strength and sense of well-being. “My friend,” the princess sighed. She touched Applejack’s cheek and guided her to sit down at the edge of the water. “These thoughts weigh heavily on my mind. I just want you to listen. You needn’t burden yourself with finding a solution. I don’t believe there is one. All things come to an end. I am comforted with the knowledge you want me to stay. Not everybody feels the same; some say I should have passed long ago.” Applejack rubbed her nose. She felt small, insignificant in the face something she couldn’t hope to affect, let alone control. There had been a lot of death in her life. Enough so that she had been forced to consider it an inevitability, rather than something that caused any real amount of surprise. If she didn’t accept it, she might become as angry and despondent as she was when her Ma and Pa had died. “I tell this to you and only you, Applejack,” Celestia said, “because as much as I welcome it, I am terrified. I am so, so scared. Of what awaits me beyond the veil. Of what will happen to my little ponies once I am gone. Of the dangers you and your friends will have to face.” “I’m… I’m scared, too.” Applejack shook her head for lack of anything else she could do. “There’s no stoppin’ what’s comin’?” “It is out of our hooves now.” Celestia wrapped the cloak back around her shoulders. “If it ever was otherwise.” Applejack rested a hoof on Celestia’s foreleg, feeling dim and tired. “Is there anythin’ you want me to do?” The princess thought for a moment. “Watch over my little ponies, the same way you always have. Keep being yourself, Applejack, for you are a wonderful person who I greatly respect. Your wisdom outshines mine, on occasion. Don’t forget that.” Applejack shut her eyes in the dark orchard. Just a few hours before, she had nearly chained her little sister down out of a twisted sense of family togetherness. She had spent the last four years chained to a desk herself, attempting to fix a town that didn’t want to be fixed. She had been constantly mocked and ridiculed for trying to instill her sense of responsibility in others. Which part of that was wisdom? But this wasn’t about her, this was about comforting Celestia in her time of need. “Sure, princess. You know I will.” She wondered why it was easier to lie to Celestia than to Apple Bloom when between the two of them, Apple Bloom’s desire was far easier to accept.