Autumn in Ponyville. While the rest of Equestria readied themselves for Nightmare Night the next month, Ponyville busied themselves with preparations for their memorial. “Commemoration” was the name it was given by the princesses years ago, as it was the only title that seemed appropriate. Although this year marked the seventh anniversary of the memorial’s creation, it was still a sore spot for most Ponyvillians. It was created in lieu of Cider Season, at the once active Sweet Apple Acres. Commemoration is a time to reflect and honor those who were lost to the great massacre. Most ponies were never truly given a satisfying reason for the senseless killings all those years ago. The princesses remained as tight-lipped as the survivors did. Eventually, between Twilight’s reassurances and the lack of new victims, fear and anxiety in Ponyville slowly ebbed. It was Twilight who initially proposed the memorial in the hopes that it would ease the pain, and bring normalcy back to Ponyville. Of course, in doing so, she and her friends had become the unofficial conductors of the memorial. They nursed their own sorrows by making each year better than the last.
It was the evening before the festivities, and magic was ringing in the halls of the Castle of Friendship. An alicorn, two unicorns, and a pegasus were scrambling to finish their decoration contributions as the sunset drew nearer.
Flying overhead of the throne room, Fluttershy was attempting to place a thick, purple drape, adorned with ribbons, onto the rafters, according to Rarity's specifications. A task that seemed easy enough, had it not been for Rarity’s refusal to settle for anything less than perfection.
“No no no, that simply will not do!” Rarity shrilly called to the pale yellow pegasus. Fluttershy sighed in frustration, lowering her hoof and holding back the urge to roll her eyes.
“What’s wrong this time?” Fluttershy called back to her friend in exasperation, wondering how Rarity could be so far away, yet still see some imagined imperfection for the placement of said drapery.
Rarity didn’t seem to catch, or mind, the pegasus’s tone.
“It’s a quarter of an inch too far to the right! Even I can see that. While I am grateful for your help, Fluttershy, you know how flawlessly decorated the castle must be for our future guests.” Rarity called out, hoping her friend would follow and agree with her logic. She looked away from the ceiling for a moment, to finish the stitch she had started on a vast tapestry draped over her hooves. The tapestry was twenty feet in length, and nearly took up the entire map-less table in the center of the room. Along with the complicated stitch work, and bright appealing colors, Bonbon’s silhouette took center stage in the piece, her name expertly sewn beneath it. When Fluttershy didn’t echo Rarity’s logic, Rarity turned to Twilight to back-up her statement.
“Wouldn’t you agree, Twilight?”
Twilight Sparkle, the princess of friendship, didn’t seem to heed the growing tension between her friends as she busied herself with a checklist; it was nearly as long as Rarity’s unfinished masterpiece. She glanced up from her scroll, tired eyes locking on the unicorn, before following her gaze to the drapery above.
“It looks great, Rarity.” Twilight muttered absently, as the quill in her magic jotted down yet another unchecked task.
“Just move it slightly to the left, Fluttershy, and you’ll be good. We don’t really have time to fuss over silly details like that.” Starlight Glimmer firmly chided, like a mother scolding her misbehaving children. Starlight’s horn was aglow, and she was busying herself with ice picks and a giant slab of ice. She’d been sculpting for the better part of an hour now, and she took great pride in the art she was able to create thus far. The sculpture showcased each of the fallen, and Starlight only hesitated for a moment when she reached the smooth surface of ice, where the fourteenth pony would be. Starlight’s heart panged and stomach clenched. She swallowed back a burp of bile, knowing that it would do no good to bring up her objections for the sixth consecutive year. This memorial had become a staple in the lives of Ponyvillians. Ponies understandably wanted that fourteenth pony remembered and honored; even if, unbeknownst to them, she was the pony who had slaughtered the rest.
Rarity bristled at Starlight’s comment dismissing her initial statement.
“And… how exactly do you suppose that the ice sculpture won’t melt by tomorrow?” Rarity asked, and though the question was genuine, her tone reflected her inner bitterness.
“I've done my research. There’s a spell that prevents ice from melting; I found it in an old book in the library.” Starlight answered tactfully and devoid of annoyance. Still, Rarity was unimpressed.
Fluttershy said nothing, secured the drape in place, and flew back to the ground before Rarity could protest yet again. Rarity pursed her lips to the side in defeat, she was clearly out-numbered.
“It’ll do.” Rarity finally said with a sigh. “Next, I’ll have you hang the floral arrangements.”
Fluttershy’s ears dropped, along with her stomach. Just when she finally felt freed from Rarity’s discerning eye, she was thrust back into the thick of it again.
Starlight rolled her eyes and put the finishing touch on the final sculpture. As much as she would have loved to take a step back and reflect on the ice sculpture’s mastery, Starlight instead turned away from it. She was hoping nopony would notice its completion, so she wouldn’t have to be reminded of that final face. However, a pegasus desperate to get out of floral-hanging duty, was only too pleased to offer up a compliment.
“It’s lovely…” Fluttershy said with an encouraging smile. She trailed off a little when she too saw the fourteenth face. Seeing that confident, unbridled joy on that frozen, lifeless face, was too much for her delicate sensibilities. She could do nothing but suffer the impact of the tidal wave of grief.
“I… I miss her.”
Fluttershy’s statement hung in the air like a dead weight. Rarity, Twilight, and Starlight paused whatever they were doing to linger in that awkward silence, while they simultaneously stared at the ice. Unlike Starlight’s bitterness, or Fluttershy’s grief, Twilight was grappling with deep-seeded guilt. It may have been several years now since she had seen that pony’s face, but she could never forget their final conversation.
“Applejack, I don’t know what you’re talking about. There was no potion… you worked yourself too hard and it caused a mental break.”
Twilight could only speculate how painful those words, those lies, must have been to the former Element of Honesty. When she reflected on that day, she still wasn’t sure what compelled her to leave her former best friend in such a callous way. On better nights, she could justify her actions by remembering how important friendship is for other ponies in Equestria to embrace. Even if she, the Princess of Friendship, had failed her friend, she could still turn it into a lesson. She impressed upon others the importance of what she had learned, and hoped that would be enough to prevent something like this from ever happening again. If she was found culpable, it would create a lasting and damaging effect to the ideals she was supposed to uphold. Even so, the profound, painful grip of remorse would never truly let her forget that it was her choice to leave Applejack the way she did. So, Twilight resigned herself to an unspoken atonement, and guard over Ponyville like an immortal sentry. She took the role so seriously, in fact, that she turned down her former teacher’s request to rule all of Equestria, and allow the royal sisters to retire.
The silence in the throne room had now lingered for too long, but no pony was willing to be the first to break it. Luckily, the double doors across the way burst open and ended the silence for them. A bright pink earth pony paraded into the room. She triumphantly pushed a large dessert cart into view.
“I’m BAAAAACK!” Pinkie Pie called out joyously with a voice so powerful it could have alerted the entire castle. She hurriedly pushed the cart towards the others to show off the various cupcakes, pies, custards, pastries, and the elaborate four-tiered cake that she had prepared in the castle’s kitchens.
“Oh, my. You made… more?” Fluttershy asked nervously, her eyes beholding the trove of sugary delights with more horror than appreciation.
“I don’t know how many ponies are coming to the party, and I want EVERY pony to try as many different desserts as they’d like!” Pinkie answered swiftly, blissfully unaware of Fluttershy’s skepticism.
“There are only so many ponies in Ponyville.” Starlight said pointedly. She glowered at the ever-growing mountain of desserts.
“True, but that doesn’t count the ponies of Canterlot, Cloudsdale, the Crystal Empire, Trottingham, Hoofington, Appaloosa…”
“Wait, what?” Twilight interjected, finally resting her quill to join the conversation.
“I’m just so superly duper-rifically nervous-ited for the party, I sent scrolls EVERYWHERE! This year’s celebration will be SO BIG that all of Equestria will commen-ce-crate with us!I Rememberate? Come-member-ate? I can never remember what it’s called.” Pinkie giggled, then quickly added. “So get those taste testers, tester-ready! It’s time for the next course of creamy, dreamy cupcakes!”
There was a collective churn of stomachs in the room at the mention of trying Pinkie’s desserts. She had started baking three days ago, and hadn’t stopped. It wouldn’t have been so unbearable if she wasn’t so insistent on her friends trying and approving each new batch. Everypony was well beyond their tolerance of concentrated sugar.
“I have every flavor you could possibly think of! Strawberry, raspberry, boysenberry, bumbleberry, banana, orange, BLUE, and--” Pinkie stopped mid rapid-ramble, and her demeanor instantly dropped. She’d unintentionally told a lie, just then, by declaring that she had made every flavor. There was one flavor she had purposefully left out, a flavor and ingredient she would never use again. Ponies had asked her periodically why she no longer baked apple desserts, but she would simply state that apples reminded her too much of sadness, and the subject would be dropped immediately.
Once again, the silence hung in the air, but this time was cut short by the sound of a speedy pegasus zipping through the open doors and completing the circle of friends.
“Sorry I’m late! We’re planning, or decorating, or something now, right?” Rainbow Dash asked, hovering over her throne chair around the circular table. Rarity scrunched up her face in disapproval.
“The rest of us certainly have been. We’ve been here since dawn, and still have so far to go! This is only the tenth tapestry, you know. I’ll have to stay up all night to finish the rest! What could POSSIBLY have been more important than this, hmm?” Rarity snapped.
“Me and the Wonderbolts--”
“The Wonderbolts and I.” Twilight immediately corrected.
“Whatever. We were practicing the routine we’re gonna perform tomorrow, and I wanted to make sure it was just right! And then, well, Spitfire made a comment about how I was going to tire myself out, and I said that even with all the practice, I could STILL whoop her ass in a race… and it sort of turned into me racing all the wonderbolts to prove a point.” Rainbow admitted with a guilty smile.
“My animals haven’t been fed all day! We really could have used your help.” Fluttershy interjected in exasperation, and Rainbow was surprised to see her, of all ponies, aggravated at her absence. She knew it must be serious if Fluttershy was frustrated.
“I-I’m sorry! I’m here now though, and I’m still not too tired to help! Here, I’ll hang these.” Rainbow said, gathering some of the bouquets on the ground and zooming around the room. Rarity’s eyes widened in horror, she trusted Rainbow Dash the least to hang her floral arrangements just right. She tried to protest, but Twilight spoke first.
“That’ll save us some time. Since Pinkie Pie apparently invited all of Equestria, we have to get these tasks done as quickly as possible. I’ve divided our duties into separate lists.” Twilight said, horrifying the bunch by levitating long scrolls of checklisted items to each of her friends.
”If we get started now, we should finish about an hour before the celebration begins.”
“Sure wish a certain little assistant was around to help us.” Rarity grumbled bitterly while eyeing her task list. “But, I suppose one does have to leave the nest eventually and forge a path all their own.”
“Don’t worry, Rarity! EVERYPONY is invited, and we can catch up all day tomorrow!” Pinkie exclaimed happily, rolling the checklist and depositing it into her mane as if to glean the information on the scroll through osmosis.
“But, first, we’ve got work to do.” Starlight asserted. A collective sound of sighing around the room was followed by various admissions of agreement. It was going to be a long night.
~*~
The hours ticked by, and eventually, Twilight Sparkle found herself hunched over a desk in her bedroom. Her eyes were transfixed on a specific scroll laid out in front of her, while a quill, held aloft in magic, waited for its next cue. Twilight broke a moment of long, unblinking concentration, when the candle she had ignited to write by, snuffed itself out: its wax spent. She ignited a new candle and sighed, crumpling the parchment in her magic and tossing it aside with the other discarded failures. Twilight peered at the task list she had meticulously written for herself, but the nagging feeling in her stomach prevented her from moving past the little check box labeled: ‘Write the hostess speech to start the memorial’. She knew that it had to be just right. Somehow, she had to convey that it was okay to celebrate the life of their loved ones, and still feel sorrow for their absence. She needed everypony to feel safe, secure, and protected by their princess. She also needed to stress the importance of friendship, during trying times like these; and that was the part tripping her up the most.
Just as Twilight pulled a new, clean scroll from her desk drawer to start again, she heard frantic hooves pounding against the stone floor. The sound was growing increasingly louder as they approached from down the hall. Typically, Starlight Glimmer would graciously knock before interrupting her mentor, but there was no hesitation now as she burst through the bedroom doors. Twilight saw the terrified look on Starlight’s face and whirled around to face her. Aside from panic, the only thing Twilight noted out-of-place was a scroll held too-tightly in Starlight’s magic, hovering nearby.
“Starlight? What’s--”
Starlight didn’t answer, but magicked the scroll to the princess so hastily it almost collided into her face. Twilight dodged the throw, taking the scroll from Starlight’s magic into her own, before scanning the semi-crumpled urgent message. As she read, reality refused to sink in. Only a few key words and phrases stuck out in the alicorn’s mind: “escaped”, “a struggle”, and “The canterlot guards can’t recall the past few days.” She was living in a waking nightmare, and each word she read pulled her deeper into a soul-shattering terror. Twilight re-read the scroll once, then twice again in silent panic, while a distressed Starlight waited on baited breath for what to do next. When the princess didn’t pull her darting eyes away, or speak, Starlight finally interjected.
“If it’s been days,” Starlight said in a hushed, frightened tone, “She could be in Ponyville by now.”
Twilight glanced up at Starlight with pin-prick pupils. Despite the bile rising in her throat, she forced herself to remain calm, and take back control of the situation before her own fears and guilt incapacitated her completely.
“We need to get word to the girls, they’re the only ones who know that Applejack is still alive and--”
Twilight stopped abruptly when she and Starlight both heard rustling from above. The sound was muffled, but both mares' minds spiraled with all the possibilities: Was it a window opening? Was it hoofsteps? Was it something knocked over in haste? Neither of them could be sure, but both feared the worst.
“I’ll check it out.” Starlight said, vanishing before Twilight could respond.
Twilight’s heart was racing and beads of sweat formed on her brow. How could this be possible? How could Applejack escape? Perhaps Applejack’s story softened the heart of one of the guards, and he helped her escape? But even if she had escaped Canterlot’s prison, where would she go? What would she do? How would she react to seeing her friends again? How would she react to seeing Twilight again?
Twilight’s heart was so fast and loud now, that she felt as though she were trapped in the belly of a great drum. She realized she had been uselessly pacing for an unknown amount of time, just trying to grapple with the cascading horrified thoughts of what was to come. Blinking a few times, she forced her hooves into action, praying that she could devise some kind of plan to fix this egregious mistake. Twilight learned long ago never to underestimate what Applejack was capable of, and knew she would need specific supplies before she began the hunt. She raced to the far side of the bedroom, and ignited her horn. She had to ignore the hiccup lapses of magic, from sheer anxiety, to find a specific stone in the wall behind her bed. The stone pressed deeper into the wall with magic, as the bed began to rumble. Slowly, a platform under the bed gave way to a secret set of stone steps, leading to a dark room below. Twilight galloped down the steps, two at a time, as torches along the walls ignited, to shine her way forward. She stopped at the bottom, skidding on her hooves, to a horrifying sight. There, on the ground, lay the remnants of the magical lock that was used to secure her secret laboratory entrance. More terrifying still was the light pouring in from behind the door, slightly ajar.
The unmistakable clatter of glass slamming onto a wooden surface from within sent a new wave of anxiety through Twilight. It ripped through her like a bolt of lightning. She pressed forward, thrusting the door open to see the horrible reality in the flesh.
Applejack. The orange earth pony who had haunted her thoughts, and dreams, for seven long and languishing years, was standing unabashedly amongst a collection of empty potion bottles. Her fur was pale, almost cream-colored from the lack of sunlight. The wounds that once marred her coat had healed into a series of scars, some fresher-looking than others. Her standing gate was still irregular from the bones in her back hooves setting wrong, all those years ago. Deep dark circles lined sunken eyes, and an unmistakable lack of nourishment left the earth pony looking almost skeletal, with fur clasped tightly to a frail frame.
Twilight opened her mouth to speak, but words wouldn’t come. Thoughts wouldn’t solidify. Her body refused to move. How did she get in? Did she use the other passage? What happened to the lock? It was supposed to keep everypony out; to keep her work secret and safe.
“Finally caught me, huh?” Applejack said, her voice was far removed from the happy country-tinged accent that Twilight once knew. Now there was a deep grackle, and a roughness akin to somepony dying of thirst. “Gotta say, thought you’d be here sooner. Suits me just fine, though.”
“Apple…” Twilight breathed, tears welling in her eyes.
“Yup. That dirty little secret you’ve been trying to hide for years. Betcha thought I would’ve faded into obscurity by now, huh?” Applejack said, her tone taunting and cruel. “‘Fraid not.”
Applejack turned away from the stunned princess to clasp another potion bottle by the neck. She didn’t hesitate, tilting her head back as she brought the rim of the bottle to her mouth. The swirling, purple liquid disappeared past her lips, and into her gullet in two deep gulps. With a satisfied exhale, the earth pony mockingly licked her lips for any excess potion that may have lingered there. Twilight didn’t know how it was possible to be even more horrified than before, but seeing that carelessness provoked a panicked outcry.
“No! What are you doing?! You don’t know what that potion does!”
“Huh. Guess I’ll figure that out, won’t I?” Applejack said, her demeanor eerily calm and devoid of concern.
“Why?!” Was all Twilight could add, her brain unable to grasp such behavior, especially from AJ.
“It’s been so long, I can’t remember what it looked like. What color, what consistency. I need it. I need to feel that again.” AJ replied, her tone growing ever darker. “And I ain’t got time to pour over your incessant drivel to find out.”
Applejack motioned to the bookshelf of journals that lined the laboratory walls. Twilight had recorded every potion, and observation of their effects, since her time as a student at Celestia’s school. It was a lifetime of work, and Applejack would have been there for hours.
AJ kept piercing eye contact with Twilight as her hoof slowly reached for yet another unlabeled, and unknown potion bottle. She was able to flick the stopper from the top, and hold it aloft in her hoof, but this time was thwarted by a blast of magic. The magic shattered the glass and caused the earth pony to recoil. Twilight had firmly planted her hooves on the cold stone ground, a renewed sense of focus apparent by her horrified and worried expression.
“You’re looking for the sleepless potion? That’s what started this mess! It’s why you’ve been locked away, why you killed all those ponies! Why, in Equestria, would you think I would keep that!?” Twilight demanded, tears staining her cheeks as her guilt roared itself to the forefront of her mind.
“You? Throw out a chance to study something? I may be out of touch, but I ain’t stupid.” Applejack snarled, casually brushing the pieces of shattered vial from her fur.
“You… you’ve consumed ALL of those?” Twilight gaped in horror, her eyes finally beholding the graveyard of discarded bottles, beakers, and vials around her laboratory. She stuttered in disbelief. “B-but… not all of my potions are for ponies! There are SEVERAL that can’t be ingested!”
“Guess you better hope these kill me then, huh? Dangerous to combine so much magic… I can only imagine the hell I’m in for if I drink the wrong ones. Not that it matters. I suppose death’s another way out of this hell you’ve saddled me with.” Applejack answered.
Twilight couldn’t help but shutter at the unemotional way Applejack shirked off her own uncertain doom. Her eyes quickly scanned the potion bottles that remained, but she couldn’t be sure if that one was among them or not.
“Does that make me the experimenter… or the experiment?” AJ asked rhetorically as she reached for yet another potion bottle. Twilight didn’t hesitate, focusing her magical blast at the next potion to stop her. This time, however, Applejack was able to move quickly to the side and avoid the stream of magic. One second she was standing a few feet from the princess, and another she was across the room, bracing herself against the wall. Twilight’s magic had landed on a bookshelf, destroying some of her journals. Singed pages fluttered about the room. Both ponies were initially stunned at Applejack’s new-found agility, but AJ’s surprise melted into an eerie delight.
“Hah! Super speed? That’s awful handy! You’ve been holdin’ out, Twi. What would Rainbow say if she knew you had something like this, all along?”
“Drop it!” Twilight screamed, her voice cracking as she ignited her horn again, her crosshairs on Applejack’s new position.
“If you say so.” Applejack answered with a shrug, taking the potion in her hoof and smashing it against the floor.
POOF
A great plume of green smoke overtook the room instantly, and Twilight reared back, inhaling the gaseous byproduct with a gasp. The immediate burning sensation in her nostrils started a wave of guttural coughing, so loud that she almost missed what Applejack said next.
“Heightened vision, too? Twilight fuckin’ Sparkle, you’ve outdone yerself.”
Twilight gritted her teeth, and tried suppressing the burning in her throat, to find the earth pony through the haze. She ignited her horn, but the light was useless against the thick green fog that lingered. To the left, Twilight heard the sound of glass sliding into AJ’s hoof. Despite the limited visibility, it seemed that AJ was STILL going to down as much potion as she could find. Twilight knew she had to take action, and that it was better to stop Applejack than try to salvage her work. So, deeply chagrined, Twilight blasted magic in that direction, wincing at the sound of her precious equipment exploding on impact.
Applejack laughed in response, clearly unharmed. Her voice was now coming from the right side of the room. Twilight whirled around again, desperate to stop her. It became very apparent that AJ was enjoying her new speed, and sight, as her voice bounced from one side of the room to the other.
“What’s wrong? Having trouble aiming? Now why’d you go and shoot over there… Are you blind AND dumb?” Applejack continued on, unscathed and unceasing.
Twilight was on auto-pilot now, striking every direction she could with a singular stream of magic. The lab became a magical frenzy as potions, books, machinery, and equipment exploded in disarray. Still, the princess knew she couldn’t react; she couldn’t afford to lose her concentration. However, the longer Twilight struggled, the more confident Applejack became. AJ delighted in adding to the chaos by smashing more potions on the unforgiving stone floor. They each created new plumes of colorful smoke, that consumed the room to keep her concealed.
“Stop!” Twilight screamed out in a fit of coughing, collapsing to the floor for the hope of some shred of fresh air that lingered there. Her magic was only making things worse, and the swirling colors of the room were so thick, it looked as though she could grasp the very air in her hooves.
Twilight shakily and slowly pulled herself up again. She’d given up the hope of finding a clean breath, and did the only thing her brain could think of: chase Applejack on hoof. In her clumsy, desperate pursuit, she ran into just about every piece of furniture that still remained in the laboratory. Unseen objects nicked her fur, her mane and tail would occasionally catch on some kind of hanging debris, and little shards of broken potion bottles bit into her hooves. No matter where she turned, AJ seemed one step ahead, taunting and laughing at her frenzied flails.
“You couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn! Gotta be quicker than that, Twi. Gonna let me get away? Awww yer not even tryin’. Ya gotta WANT it! That secret of yours is comin’ out tonight! What’ll Ponyville think?”
Eventually, Twilight heard Applejack’s hoofsteps rapidly ascending the stone stairs towards the bedroom. Applejack was escaping again, and Twilight was no closer to finding her, than she was the door leading out. Panicked, she raced forward, her hooves colliding into a wooden table that had previously avoided the carnage. The splintered pieces raked across the flesh of her torso and forelegs as she fell. The impact of the fall disoriented Twilight, and the smoke inhalation was causing an unparalleled dizziness. Her ears were ringing loudly, but through its shrill scream, she still heard another beaker burst. Liquid splashed on her front hooves, but the sensation turned from wet and cold, to sharp and scorching in mere seconds.Twilight cried out in pain when she heard the sizzle, and felt the burn of acid eating into her flesh.
Still, she couldn’t stop now. Nothing else mattered but getting to, and stopping, Applejack. Not only were ponies in danger, but her secret shame would be laid bare for all the world to see. What horrible consequences would follow? How many more ponies had to die before Twilight would succumb to the reality that Applejack was beyond saving, in any capacity?
As Twilight struggled to find her bearings again, a scream from above pierced through the mist. It was a horrifying scream of terror that snapped Twilight out of flight response, and into fight response. With renewed focus, she teleported herself from the mess below, her horn still hiccuping with unstable magic. She tried to trace the origin of the sound, and appeared just outside of Starlight Glimmer’s room.
“Starlight! It’s Applejack! She’s in the castle!” Twilight screamed out, pulling the handle on the door, only to find it wouldn’t budge.
Another scream, this time in defiance, came from within. Twilight slammed her body against the door, hoping it would give way, but it remained firm.
“Starlight! Let me in!” Twilight shouted, pleading with the mare who she could clearly hear tussling with somepony else from within. When more slams to the door didn’t give way, she backed off and blasted it with magic. However, her spell instantly deflected, as if it met an invisible, magical shield. It ricocheted and whizzed over Twilight’s head, colliding into one of the castle pillars behind her. Twilight jumped aside when the pillar collapsed into a pile of gemstone-textured debris.
“Replace me, do ya?!”
Twilight heard Applejack’s voice behind the door and she grew more desperate. The crumbling pillar beside her gave her a frantic, but potentially helpful idea. She shifted her focus from the door, to the wall beside it. Twilight’s horn steadily grew with light and magic, as she gathered all the strength she had for this singular spell. When she released it, the magical collision roared through the hallway as stone crumbled, and dust billowed. The hole it created in the wall was barely large enough to fit her frame, but Twilight pressed forward. She sucked in a deep breath and squeezed, contorted, and pushed herself through the wall. The dust hadn’t settled, so Twilight had to squint through yet another haze to find both Applejack and Starlight Glimmer. It was then that Twilight’s eyes fell on a gruesome sight.
“STARLIGHT!”
The unicorn mare was laying on the opposite side of the room, near the ruins of what were once her belongings. As the dust from the explosion slowly settled, some of the destruction in the room came into view. The bed was in pieces, feathers from the pillows still adrift in the air, mixing with the dust from the explosion. The armoire was nearly unrecognizable, all that remained were sharp splinters of wood and strewn about clothing. The mirror that once stood atop a vanity table was smashed into tens of thousands of pieces that were scattered about the room in disarray. Clothing, tapestries, childhood memorabilia: eviscerated. Then there was Starlight herself, who was in a similar state of upheaval. Her skin was marred with fresh injuries, the red soaked through her fur so thoroughly that wounds were indistinguishable from one to another. A bone in her back hoof was jutting backwards, disconnected from its place. But, most notably horrific of all, was a cascade of blood oozing through hooves that clung desperately to a severed jugular.
“Wh-why?” Starlight asked, her breath caught in her throat. She was looking up at something that had been hidden in the haze. Twilight blinked a few times, to bring her eyes fully into focus in the dim light, and found Applejack looming over Starlight. There was a strange, unnatural and unnerving smile on the earth pony’s face, looking pleased with herself for ridding the world of her so-called replacement.
It was this moment that Applejack was no longer a pony, in Twilight’s eyes, but a demon that needed to be destroyed. Clearly magic was no threat to this evil beast, so Twilight changed tactics, gripping a sharpened shard of mirror in her magic and leaping towards Applejack with a frenzied cry. Surely the weapon would instill some fear, and at the very least, draw AJ away from Starlight.
Much to Twilight’s surprise, her plan worked. Applejack’s face contorted to that of surprise, maybe even shock, and she didn’t stick around long enough to see if the alicorn could bring herself to murder a pony in cold blood. She whizzed past Twilight so quickly, it seemed as though she was flying. In less time than it took for a pony to blink, Applejack leapt out of the hole the princess had just made in the wall, and disappeared without a trace. Twilight could do nothing but stare after her, her magic finally failing as the shard of glass clattered to the ground. She knew the severe consequences that would soon follow if she didn’t pursue her, but Twilight’s mind wouldn’t detach itself from the need to save her friend.
Starlight. Starlight. Starlight.
Her heart beats were drumming loudly again, echoing Starlight’s name over and over as she allowed insanity to creep into her reality.
“T-twi-i…light?” Starlight stammered, each syllable uttered only strengthening the waterfall of life drenching the mare’s fur, and pooling beneath her.
Twilight cried out unintelligibly, collapsing on the floor beside her friend. She wanted to hold her, to ease the pain, to promise she’d be okay, to make it stop… but it would only delay the inevitable. Starlight’s gasping and gagging was fading, and Twilight could do nothing but watch as Starlight clung to her last shred of life.
“Please, please don’t go. Please don’t leave me!” Twilight managed through garbled cries. She watched Starlight’s face change from fear, to confusion, and finally to sorrow. Twilight knew she should have said something, offer up some kind of solace or peace, but words wouldn’t come. Instead, she helplessly kept her gaze locked on Starlight’s as seconds slowly passed them by. The princess’s stunned silent grief was the last thing Starlight Glimmer witnessed in this world before slipping away to darkness.
Twilight let out a scream that would echo through every hallway in the castle. She pulled Starlight into her embrace, cradling her body against her chest like a mother coddling a child. Twilight was consumed in grief, letting no other emotion take precedence despite the severity of the situation around her. She didn’t have long to dwell in it, however, when she felt a large, heavy object slam into the back of her head, and the alicorn collapsed onto the floor.