The train wasn’t particularly menacing, quiet the opposite in fact as it is very hard to be menacing while being brightly colored, very well lit and full of smiling ponies. None the less as Applebloom stood there, in the station, looking at the brightly colored, well lit train train full of smiling ponies, only one thought came to mind.
Menacing.
She stood on the platform, watching as it pulled to a stop. It was one of the newer stations, installed by order of Celestia a few years ago. It still had that new train station smell, which is much like new horseshoe smell only with a great deal more coal. It must at this point be said that there was nothing wholly remarkable about the train station, or for that matter its rather cheerily painted trains. But at exactly one in the afternoon something wholly remarkable was set to occur.
By the small clock in Appleblooms bag it was seven minutes past noon.
Applebloom turned to Applejack, still finding it odd that they were almost the same height now. She was exactly as tall as her sister, if you counted in the large red bow. But, since red bows do not count under any known system of measurement she would have to wait a while longer. Still, the way things were going she would probably be taller when it was all said and done.
During the time it had taken her to become this tall she had begun to notice that growing up is an altogether unpleasant thing that should be avoided at all costs, but alas time is a hard, stubborn thing, so Applebloom had no choice but to face the fact that she was no longer a filly, though she could not rightly be called a mare. She was in that odd place everypony ends up at at one point or another, inbetween places, and therefore nowhere at all.
“Have you got your lunch?” asked Applejack, biting her bottom lip.
“Yes.”
“Have you got your apples seeds?”
“Yes.”
“Have you got your water?”
“Yes.” Applebloom nodded a final time. Her sister patted her on the side, her face tense in that happy kind of way only older ponies seemed to be able to manage.
Applebloom knew she was worried and she’d probably stay worried for quite a while, but it was time. All fillies went through it, with colts tossed in for good measure. For some it was a small change, one day they walked down the street and, with little or no warning, it happened. They crossed from one side to the other, or came to realize they’d arrived at their destination quite a long time ago, and had only just realized it. They were the lucky ones, for the rest of the ponies in-between it takes a bit more. They remain nowhere, unsure of where they’re going. This can be a scary thing, everypony wants to be somewhere. Wherever ‘there’ is.
Applebloom looked at her flank, still as blank as the day she was born, and hoped that ‘there’ would be on the other side of the tracks stretching into the horizon.
The ticket in her saddlebag suddenly felt very heavy. The weight of the words ‘One Way’ threatening to send her tumbling to the ground. But, she was an Apple, and Apple’s were a strong, hearty breed. She was honest, she was brave, she was smart and looking back at her sister she knew she was also loved. Back at home she had a brother and a grandmother waiting, they would see her off, and welcome her home, no matter what happened.
Applebloom would certainly need to remember this, but doubly so in about sixty-five minutes.
The clock read ten minutes past noon.
This whole thing had been Scootaloo’s idea. Applebloom mused, her impulsive pegasus friend had told her, if she couldn’t find ‘somewhere’ here, then ‘somewhere’ must rightly be somewhere else. It only made sense.
This was of course, very solid logic, or at least in the mind of Scootaloo, to whom logic was a tenuous friend at best. Still, she’d tried everything else. Sweetie Belle hadn’t thought it was a very good idea, but Sweetie Belle had recently found her way to the other side, a microphone adorning her flank. She was currently the prime act at the local theater several times a week. Applebloom did not want to be jealous of her friend, but had to admit she did feel a slight twinge of anger at not receiving hers. She knew it was wrong to feel that way, but feelings are seldom obedient things, always doing the opposite of what we may want them to. Like a particularly haughty cat who only wants you to pet it when you’re busy doing something else.
So, driven a bit by pride, a bit by jealousy and perhaps, more than she wanted to admit, a bit by fear, she’d purchased the ticket, packed her bags, and told her family she was heading out to find that ‘somewhere’. She would return when she found it. But until then she would be away.
Applejack had done the same in her youth, so they couldn’t rightly object. Not to say this stopped them from doing so. But, being an Apple, in addition to all the other things the title carried, she was stubborn. It was her aging Grandmother who’d relented first, after that her siblings had little choice but to agree and help her pack. So, with the ticket in her bag, and a slight dread in her stomach, she’d set off.
Applejack, like many ponies was not very good at goodbyes, which is an irony considering the name. Applebloom, knowing this, kindly initiated with a hug. Her sister’s hooves were strong as always and felt terribly safe. For a moment she considered abandoning the whole thing and heading back home for a bit of cider and perhaps a cookie. But Apples don’t do anything halfway. If they did, they wouldn’t be Apples, and as sure as her tail was red she was an Apple.
“Good luck, little sister.” said Applejack softly.
Applebloom managed a small smile. “Thanks, I’ll see you soon.”
Applejack managed a small one in return.“You’d better.”
“All aboard!” called the porter, a rather wiry unicorn in a blue hat.
“That’s my cue.” she said, turning towards the train. “Tell Big Mac and Granny Smith I’ll send a letter when I get there.”
“I sure will.” said Applejack. “..Goodbye Applebloom.”
Applebloom was stuck for a moment. The words seemed so final. She instantly decided that the term ‘Goodbye’ was terribly named.
“Goodbye Applejack.”
So, Applebloom gave her ticket to the porter, who punched a little hole in it, and ushered her onto the train. She could just see over the heads of the ponies milling about the car as they packed up their luggage, directed foals and generally did busy things. They payed her little attention as she found her room in a car at the back of the caboose. A small window let in the sun, illuminating a very small bed and an even smaller nightstand. She couldn’t help but think the bed looked terribly uncomfortable, compared to her much larger, much softer one back home. Though the train had not yet left the station, it suddenly felt terribly far away.
The clock read half past noon.
Applebloom sat her saddlebag on the floor next to the bed. It should now be noted that this saddlebag contained several things, but most importantly her lunch, which consisted of a hay sandwich apples slices and some water, along with what was always carried by Apples, a bag of apple seeds. Applejack was quite right to make sure Applebloom did not forget these items in particular, and she would do well to keep them in mind.
The train’s whistle blared shrilly through the air signaling their departure from the station. She felt the floor shudder a bit as the conductor coaxed the engine to life. Applebloom looked out her window as they pulled forwards, and saw ponyville slowly getting smaller in the distance. There was no turning back now.
It has been stated, round about one thousand one hundred and two words ago that there was nothing remarkable about the station which Applebloom just left, nor the trains it housed, while this is technically true there was indeed something remarkable about the tracks. This remarkable thing is that they lead through the Everfree forest, which is a wholly remarkable place.
The clock read a quarter to one in the afternoon.
Applebloom layed her head down as ponyville finally vanished into the horizon. She was right, the bed was terribly uncomfortable, but it would have to do. She thought about where she was heading, and realized she couldn’t even remember the town’s name. It was on the ticket stub in her bag, she hadn’t taken much time to look at it. When she’d gotten home to pack it away she’d put it away in the deepest pocket under the water, the apples seeds and the sandwich, hidden like a secret.
She hadn’t even bothered to give it a look when she’d given it to the porter. Either because she hadn’t thought about it, or because she didn’t want to. If she studied it for too long it might change her mind. She didn’t want that.
Did she?
Applebloom felt terribly unsure. But it was far too late now, far, far too late. She needed to find somewhere to be. She was sick of being somewhere inbetween.
There was a small chiming sound as the clock in Appleblooms bag struck one in the afternoon. The causal observer might note that it sounded slightly off key, and a great deal louder than any small clock has the right to sound. But Applebloom is not the casual observer.
The cabin suddenly grew dark as the train passed beneath the dense foliage of the Everfree Forest. Small flecks of light spilled from in between the leaves, painting the cabin in spots. Applebloom was distracted from her thoughts for a moment by how pretty it looked. They raced by, changing constantly as the train moved.
Despite herself she smiled.
Suddenly Applebloom felt herself being drawn forwards, she stumbled a bit. The train was slowing. She found this odd with good reason, as the station wasn’t do for another few hours. She heard the clicking of plates from the dining car as they shifted around and the heavy thuds of luggage falling from the overhead racks.
Something was wrong.
Applebloom looked around her cabin, wondering what she ought to do.
A mare might wait in their car until the somepony came to alert them that to what was amiss, or the train started up again. But Applebloom was not a mare, not quite yet in anycase. She still had that bit of filly curiosity that led her to peek her head out of the door, and stare into the abandoned car which lay waiting outside.
She gasped. There was nopony anywhere to be seen. Where only minutes ago there had been bustling activity, now there was nothing but silence. Luggage lay in various states of disarray on the floors and chairs, covered in the spots of light from the tree line. The whole car looked like it was trying to dress up as a cheetah for nightmare night. Which is quite a bit more frightening than it sounds when one is facing it alone in the middle of a train which had been fully occupied only moments before.
They must have gone to their rooms, she thought. Yes, that’s got to be it, there’s simply no other explanation.
She nodded to herself, this made quite a lot more sense than what a small panicky voice in the back of her head was saying. Being not quite a filly, she decided to hush this voice, and listen to the sensible option.
She grabbed her saddlebag and walked through the passenger car until she came to a door, she raised a hoof and knocked twice.
“Hello?” she asked, her voice echoing oddly throughout the train. “Is anypony in there? It seems there’s somethin’ wrong.”
She waited, but there was no answer. The silence seemed incredibly loud.
She knocked again. “Hello?”
Still no answer.
She tried the door, to find that it was open, sliding it back she found that the inside was just as empty as out.
“Okay...” she said to herself, as worried ponies are prone to do. “Must just be an unbooked cabin’ yeah..that’s it.”
She walked, then trotted, then galloped around the train, knocking on various doors, only to find the other rooms as empty as the first.
Applebloom was starting to very much doubt that her previous answer was infact ‘it’.
The conductor, she thought. He had to still be here...otherwise who would have stopped the train?
She galloped, quite a bit faster than is classically polite, to the conductors booth. It was behind a large green door, which looked quite a bit less cheerily painted in the light from the forest. Applebloom was quite thoroughly sick of knocking, and ripped the door open as quickly as she could.
Thick moss and foliage spilled out into the car, she fell back onto her rump, pushed back by the sheer mass of it. Flowers sprouted everywhere in ever color, making the train look downright drab by comparison. Applebloom let out a yelp, scooting back quickly.
The inside of of the booth was dark, she couldn’t see past the door, a deep voice, like the sound of pennies dropping on a hollow floor echoed outwards.
“Yes?” it asked politely.
Applebloom opened and closed her mouth a few times.
“Well? What are you bothering me about?”
“I-I....what....how...where are we?”
“Somewhere.” said the voice simply. “That’s where you wanted to go isn’t it? This is your stop.”
“N-no! This isn’t my stop! I’m going...” she realized she had forgotten. “Um...one moment.” she remembered the ticket stubs. Applebloom bucked off her saddlebag, and fished through it until she found the small piece of paper. “Here” she grabbed it in her mouth. “This is where I’m going.”
She resisted the urge to pull back as a large vine curled forward and wrapped around the ticket. It held it up to the darkness for a moment.
“Yep, there it is.” The vine hovered in front of her nose. “Somewhere.”
Sure enough, now embossed in bright gold letters, were the words ‘Somewhere’ printed in fancy type.
“B-but that wasn’t on there when I bought it!”
Applebloom got the strangest impression the collection of vines was shrugging. “Not my problem.”
“Well I reckon it is your problem....whatever you are! Where is everypony anyway? There were other passengers besides’ me. They certainly weren’t headin’ for ‘Somewhere’!”
“Well of course not.” said the darkness. “This is your stop. They’ve all got their own stops. Now, please disembark, be sure to give us a good review, and avoid the Unsure.”
Applebloom was confused. “B-but what happened to them!? Where am I supposed to go!? And what the heck are you!?”
“I’m your conductor,” the darkness said simply. “Have a safe journey.”
The door shut with a decisive click.
“Wait!” Applebloom tried to open the door again, only to find it stuck fast. “You come back here right now! I’m not gettin’ off here I tell you! This isn’t my stop!”
There was no answer.
“Fine!” Applebloom yelled. “I’ll just sit here till you start the train up again. See how you like that!” Applebloom sat down stubbornly.
There was the sound of rattling leaves, or perhaps a sigh from behind the door. Suddenly the floorboard lifted upwards at almost exactly seventy degrees. Applebloom went tumbling end over end as the side of the train opened like it was made of liquid. She was roughly deposited on the mossy ground of the forest.
“Hey!” she yelled.
She was drowned out by the sound of the engines starting again. The train began to move forwards.
Applebloom was on her hooves and chasing it before she even realized.
“Wait! This ain’t my stop! You let me back on right now! You hear!?”
The train did not hear. It sped up, and though she chased it valiantly it soon outpaced her, and she was left staring at the cabose as it pulled off in the darkness of the Forrest.
Soon she was left staring down the tracks. All alone.
“Remember beware the Unsure!” echoed back after a few minutes.