The warmth of the sun alighted on Shiloh’s face as it rose from the horizon. Somewhere, Celestia is doing that. Shiloh thought with a twinge of anger as she looked at the colorful horizon. The desert had given way to rows upon rows of apple trees and had filled the air with the scent of apples. Ever since Appleloosa had been settled, it remained virtually isolated from the rest of Equestria. Its only contact was by the train that arrived every week, and it usually carried family members and supplies to the town, not propaganda or guards. It was pure, just like Colt Cliffs.
Shiloh rubbed her eyes and leaned over the edge of the running board to see where the train was headed. Rising above the trees was the clock tower that stood in the middle of the town. Shiloh knew that it would be only minutes until the train arrived at the station as she felt it begin to slow down. I don’t want to start of on the wrong hoof. Stepping off of a train ride that you didn’t pay for is not a good way to make a first impression. Shiloh thought to herself as she prepared to bail out of the train. A lake, presumably hoof made, served as a reservoir for the water that served the community. As the train approached the shallow trestle that crossed the lake Shiloh pushed the saddlebag off of the running board and onto the sand. Seconds later she vaulted from the train and hit the water with a thunderous splash.
Shiloh resurfaced and spat the water from her mouth like a fountain. The cool lake was a welcomed relief from the dry air of the desert.
“What’s ya’ll doin’ in there?” Shouted a distinctively southern voice from the bank. “Ya’ll know that’s our drinkin’ water right?”
“My apologies.” Shiloh yelled as she quickly paddled to the edge of the bank and trotted into the sand. Instinctively Shiloh shook the water from her coat and turned to address the pony who had called her out. A young mare stood beside her with an amused expression on her face. The water Shiloh had flung from her coat had struck her in the face and left her orange mane soaking wet. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” the mare leaned close to Shiloh. “I was planning on taking a dip anyway.” She whispered into Shiloh’s ear and laughed. “Where are my manners, I’m Hayseed. Nice to meet you miss… um… what was your name again.”
“Shiloh,” she responded, “Nice to meet you Hayseed. Do you know how to get to-”
“Yup.” Hayseed interrupted, “I can getchya pretty much anywhere in this town. I’ve lived here since I was a little filly.”
“That’s great, can you take me to the Macintosh farm?” Shiloh asked.
Hayseed’s mouth dropped open at the mention of the farm. “Are you the special visitor they have been talkin’ about?”
They’ve been freely proclaiming things about me? Shiloh thought as she hesitated to answer. “I’m not really supposed to say anything to civilians.”
“Ooo…” Hayseed said in amazement. “You must be really official. All right miss Shiloh, you win, I’ll take ya to the farm, just follow me.”
Hours had past since they had first begun to tour the city. Hayseed must have decided to take the scenic route; we just circled the clock tower twice. Shiloh thought as she looked at the clock tower. “Hayseed?” Shiloh asked. “I am really enjoying this, but I would love to see the Macintosh farm.”
“Well why didn’t ya say so?” Hayseed said cheerfully as she spun around and trotted past Shiloh. “Follow me.” Shiloh rolled her eyes and trotted behind Hayseed as they made their way to the outskirts of the town. A long fence stood as a barrier between the rows of houses and rows of trees.
“Is this their farm?” Shiloh asked as she trotted past the various kinds of apple trees.
“Yup,” Hayseed said as she vaulted the fence and plucked an apple from one of the branches. “And they have such a bumper crop this year, they are literally giving their apples to the town folk.”
“Impressive,” Shiloh said as she used her magic to pull an apple from one of the trees and took a bite. “They must be pretty well off if they are giving away their crop.”
“I guess so.” Hayseed said as she took another bite from her apple. “But our apples are the best in all of Equestria. The city ponies pay a lot of money to get their hooves on them, little do they know that we eat them for free.” She said with a childlike glee in her voice. “There’s the gate up ahead.”
Shiloh looked to the large wooden sign that rose from the fence. As she neared it she could make out the chiseled letters that spelled out ‘Macintosh Fields’. Hayseed bolted ahead of her and held the gate open for Shiloh. “Thank you Hayseed.” Shiloh said as she trotted onto the dirt path that wound through the rows of trees.
“Ya’ll have a good time now!” Hayseed yelled as she closed the gate and trotted back into the city. The road cut through the perfect rows of trees and Shiloh felt as if they were pointing her toward the house. Rounding a sharp bend in the road Shiloh gasped. A massive wooden house sat atop a hill that overlooked most of the farm. They really are well off. Shiloh thought, as she stood frozen in awe of the structure.
The front door opened. “Shiloh? Is that you?” yelled a spry old mare as she trotted out onto the porch. “Come inside dear you look horrible.” The comment caught Shiloh off guard and she cocked her eyebrow in confusion.
“Excuse me?” Shiloh asked.
“I could see how that could have been taken the wrong way.” Said the mare, “I meant to say you look like a bull ran you straight over.”
Shiloh blushed as she looked at herself. Her mane was matted and caked with dirt and grime, and her coat was covered in scratches and blood. Wow, I really do look horrible. She thought, shocked by her disheveled state.
“Come on now, the family wants to meet ya!”
“Family?” Shiloh asked as she uneasily shifted her weight to the other legs.
“Yes a family.” The mare said as she scampered down the steps and made a beeline to Shiloh. “Let me get your bag for ya, it’s the least I can do since you are trying to save Equestria and all.”
The two strode up to the solid wooden door. An ornate carving of a letter ‘M’ decorated its face. “When was this house built, miss…” Shiloh’s voice trailed off as she realized she didn’t know the name of the mare next to her.
“It’s miss Macintosh.” She said as she opened the door and yelled. “She’s Here!” a thunder of hoofsteps emanated from the house as everypony gathered around the opened door.
“How was tha trip?” asked a stallion
“What happened to you?” Asked another, a mare punched him in the shoulder and scolded him.
“That’s none of your business Bucky.”
“Shiloh?” Asked a small, high-pitched voice from the floor. Shiloh looked down to see a light orange filly at her hooves. “Do you have any stories?” The sight of the innocent filly brought tears to her eyes.
“I have several.” She said as she knelt down and patted the filly’s head. “But I need to get cleaned up first.”
“Ok, ok, part the waters!” shouted miss Macintosh as she pushed her way through the ponies. “Shiloh needs to go get tidied up for supper, so ya’ll need to make way.” Shiloh followed miss Macintosh through the crowd and up the wooden stairs to the bedrooms. “You will be staying in here.” Miss Macintosh said as she pushed open a rickety door to reveal a spacious room.
Shiloh gasped.
“Is something wrong?” asked miss Macintosh.
Shiloh turned to her. “Nothing’s wrong, you just don’t know what its like to see a bed after what I have been through. The most comfortable thing I have had to sleep on was stone.”
Miss Macintosh smiled. “Well make yourself at home.” She said as she gently set Shiloh’s saddlebag on the ground and trotted to the door. “Dinner will be ready in an hour, and I’d wager they family would love to hear about your adventure.”
Shiloh laughed. “I think I’ve got that taken care of.” As miss Macintosh closed the door, Shiloh turned to mirror that hung on the wall. It’s finally over. She thought to herself as she looked in the mirror. She barely recognized the pony that stared back at her. Walking to the saddlebag her saddlebag that lay on the floor, Shiloh withdrew the few things she had to remember of her home. The picture was faded, cracked, and soaked, but somehow the image of the smiling mare still gazed back at her. Reverently, Shiloh set it on the wooden nightstand beside her bed and withdrew the letter from Mach, placing it beside the picture.
Shiloh threw herself onto the bed and shuddered in its comforting embrace. It felt like it had been years since she had felt a bed beneath her. I’m filthy. I should probably get washed up before I try and rest. It took several seconds for Shiloh to work up the willpower to leave the embrace of the sheets. Tearing herself from the bed, Shiloh trotted to the bucket of water in the corner and washed herself of the filth that had built up during her travels. The water stung her cuts, but it was a good kind of pain, a cleansing pain. She dried herself off and looked back at the mirror. She ran her hoof along her face. The sight of the long scar on the side of her cheek brought back the vivid memory of that fateful night at sea, the night that had changed her life.
After she had finished cleaning, Shiloh trotted to the window and looked out over the orchard that surrounded the house. Rows of trees stretched as far as the eye could see in every direction. Small trails wound their way through the organized forest, and Shiloh felt a desire to tread through them, as if the forest was calling her back into its midst like an old friend.
“Shiloh!” shouted miss Macintosh from the bottom of the stairs. “Supper’s on the table!”
Shiloh checked herself in the mirror one more time before quickly hurrying down the rickety stairs and into the dining room. A large table fashioned out of a single tree lay in the middle of the large room, and the family was eagerly waiting to eat, and hear of Shiloh’s adventures. Shiloh started to trot to the foot of the table, but a gruff voice ordered her to stop.
“And just where do you think you are goin?” asked a burly old stallion on the other end of the table. “I cannot in my right mind let a guest sit at the foot of the table, take my seat.” The stallion stood and ushered Shiloh to take the stool at the head of the table.
“That isn’t necessary.” Shiloh said as she hesitated.
“Oh, but it is. Please, accept my seat as a gift.”
“Well, since you put it that way, thank you.” Shiloh said as she took the chair at the head of the table.
Miss Macintosh leaned over to Shiloh and whispered, “They have been itchin’ to hear your story for the longest time.” The family began to eat their fill as they waited for Shiloh to begin.
Shiloh held up her hoof, instantly quieting the table. Standing, she placed her hooves on the table and took on her most authoritative tone. “I’ve heard you have been itching for a good story, well I’ve got one for you that you will never believe.” The family sat in awe at her dramatic intro.
“We want to hear this much!” said the little filly as she strained to stretch her forelegs as far apart as possible. “Please.”
Shiloh smiled and paused for a moment as she quickly organized her memories. The eyes of each and every pony were trained on Shiloh as she began to tell her journey. “My story starts in Manehattan, during the annual marching of the troops. Or rather, underneath their hooves in the dark and cold storm drains that run beneath the city…”