//------------------------------//
// Chapter the First:  A Dreadful Dawn 
// Story: A Series of Right Rotten Events 
// by Quilled Inc 
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Dear Princess Celestia,
What has happened?



I am sure that, if you are reading this, you are familiar with the three Apple siblings, who live happily with their grandmother at Sweet Apple Acres in Ponyville.  However, though the lives of these young ponies are now happy and (for the most part) carefree, it was not always so.  As unlikely as it might seem, the early lives of these three could not have been more different in fortune.  As a result, I must warn you that this account is not a happy one; quite the opposite is true, in fact.  And so, if you have come to this story with the desire for a pleasant tale of happiness and wonder, I think that you would be better off reading some other story.  In their youth, just as they are now, Macintosh, Applejack, and Apple Bloom were the most charming fillies and colt that you could possibly hope to meet: kind-hearted, obedient, honest and steadfast.  Despite that, however, in their early lives they were incredibly unlucky, and almost everything that happened to them was rife with misery, misfortune, and sorrow.  It all began on one miserable day at the beach of Horseshoe Bay...

The Apple siblings lived with their parents in a large orchard-estate in the nearby city, one of the busiest cities in Equestria: Baltimare.  On occasion their parents would give them permission to take the short trip on the Friendship Express— the word “Friendship”, in this situation, here means “a closely confined space in which several often tired and grumbling ponies are crammed, creating a stressful and claustrophobic environment”— alone to the bay, where they would spend the day enjoying time with each other, away from the city, as long as they were back in time for evening victuals.

This specific morning was grey and overcast, which did not bother the Apple siblings in the slightest.  When the bay was bathed in Celestia’s light and heat fell upon the beach in waves like those coming in from the ocean, Horseshoe Bay could be found densely populated with tourists from all over Equestria, making it nearly impossible to find a clear place to lay one’s towel.  However, on dismal and cloudy days like this one, when the Weather Factory was working overtime to distribute the spring rains across the land, the Apples had the beach all to themselves.

Macintosh, the oldest of the three siblings, often spent calm and gloomy days such as these bucking rocks.  He would line them up in a row and, with his powerful hind legs, would kick them at just the right angle to send them whizzing across the still, unbroken surface of the water until gravity took control and they sank beneath the ripples.  As he bucked rocks, he stared out at the horizon, thinking about the apple orchard at home and what new contraptions he could devise to harvest the apples faster during harvest season.  Anypony who knew Macintosh well could tell that he was thinking hard when his ears were lying flat against his skull, framing the close-cut yellow mane that ran down his brick-red back.  A pony of few words, Macintosh was a natural problem-solver; always thinking of new ways to overcome the tasks present in his life.  Of the three siblings, Macintosh was the only one who had already earned his cutie mark: a ripe green apple sliced in half, revealing the dark seeds circling the centre within.  He had earned it on a sunny fall day six years before, when his father had taken him for a walk in the apple orchard.  While they trotted between the trees, Macintosh had seen one of the orchard workers­— an old, tired stallion— struggling to buck the apples from a young apple trees.  Rather than seeing this old pony over-exert himself, Macintosh intervened, and with one powerful kick from his haunches, knocked the entire tree-full of under ripe green apples from the boughs and into the buckets waiting below.  After doing this (and dismissing the tumult of gratitude from the older pony) his cutie mark appeared.  His father had been so impressed by his natural strength and willingness to help, that he promised to let Macintosh work in the orchard when he turned sixteen, something that Macintosh looked forward to, especially now that it was only two years away.

Applejack, the middle sibling, sat staring into the shallow, murky waters of Horseshoe Bay; looking closely for small crabs, crawdads, or fish in the tide-pools. When she saw a small crustacean creeping its way across the rocky floor beneath the water, Applejack scooped it up and flung it onto the sand with a swift swing of her hoof, where she used her hat to catch it with a victorious grin upon her face.  She was just a little older than eight years old and was never seen without her broad-rimmed “Coltson” hat upon her head, (she had won it some years earlier at a fair while visiting relatives in Ponyville).  The hat made her look an age beyond her years, complimenting her strong will and reckless personality.  When playing together, it was Applejack who would lead her brother and sister upon make-believe adventures in the large rooms and long hallways of the family estate.  A pony of resolve, Applejack always knew what course of action to take, and everything she did was done with a persistent attitude until it was completed (which made the lack of a cutie mark upon her orange-coated flank an ever-present source of frustration).

Apple Bloom, the youngest at barely two years of age, had only recently become accustomed to using her four slender legs.  However, that did not prevent her from running and jumping across the sandy beach, giggling happily with youthful enthusiasm as her short red mane was blown about in the occasional gusts of wind coming in from the sea.  Apple Bloom was at an age when one mostly speaks in a series of unintelligible mutters and shrieks; however, Apple Bloom was an intelligent foal, and although she couldn’t speak properly yet, she could understand most everything that her siblings said.  Likewise, Applejack and Macintosh had also come to understand many of the noises that Apple Bloom made.  For instance, on that fateful morning, when Apple Bloom stopped prancing around to exclaim “Ehyo!” her siblings knew that she probably meant something along the lines of, “Who is that strange figure emerging from the fog?”

Sure enough,  in the distance through the early morning mist could be seen the outline of a stallion striding along the shoreline toward them.  Apple Bloom had been pointing at the figure and shrieking “Ehyo!” for some time when Applejack looked up from the crawdad caught in her hat and saw it too.  She reached over and tapped Macintosh on the shoulder, bringing him out of his thoughts.

“Look,” She said and gestured toward the figure.  Now that it was closer, the young ponies could notice a few details, such as the shape of a large top hat upon its head and the outline of a business coat and collar.  It was definitely an earth pony; that much was clear by its lack of wings or a horn.  Macintosh stepped in front of his sisters, taking an offensive stance between them and the approaching stranger.

“Who d’you think it is?”  Applejack asked; worry lacing her thick Southern drawl.  Although the siblings had been raised in Baltimare, they retained the accent that their father had brought with him from their grandmother’s farm in Ponyville.  He had moved with his wife to Baltimare to expand their grandmother’s apple business, but they never lost their proud country accents, which their children had inherited.

“Ah dunno,” Macintosh replied in his much deeper brogue, squinting at the figure, “but it seems to be comin’ right toward us.”

“We’re alone here,” Applejack said, nervously.  “Who else could it be movin’ toward?”  She felt the thick fabric of the hat in her hooves and had a sudden desire to throw the crawdad at the figure; it intimidated her so.

However, as the figure reached them, the siblings saw with relief that it was not anypony to be frightened of at all, but rather somepony that they knew very well: Mr. Wright.  Mr. Wright was a close friend of Mr. and Mrs. Apple whom the children remembered seeing at many of their parents’ dinner parties and community events that they organised in the orchard.  One of the things that the siblings liked about their parents was that they never sent their children away to their rooms when adult company was over, but instead allowed them to stay and participate in the conversations and activities as long as they helped clean up afterward.  The siblings remembered Mr. Wright because he seemed to always be suffering from a nasty cold, and would constantly be overcome by a fit of coughing and sneezing into the white-lace hoofkerchief that he kept upon his person.

Mr. Wright took off his top hat with a slow motion and stopped in front of the three young ponies.  However, just as he was about to speak, he suddenly convulsed, possessed by yet another one of his loud coughing fits: spending several moments wheezing into his hoofkerchief.  Macintosh and Applejack patiently waited for him to recover.

“Howdy do,” Big Mac muttered awkwardly, shaking the hoof that Mr. Wright was not using to cover his mouth.

“Howdy do,” Applejack repeated, dipping her head and replacing her hat, then jumping in alarm and flinching as the crawdad pinched her ear.

“Ody yu!” exclaimed Apple Bloom.

“Fine, thank you,” Mr. Wright replied in his refined, Canterlot accent— the result of many years living and studying at the esteemed University of Economics in the capital city— as he returned his hoofkerchief to his pocket.

For a few lingering moments nopony spoke, and the siblings began to wonder what Mr. Wright was doing there at Horseshoe Bay.  Since he was a banker, as well as a highly respected figure in society, the children were very surprised to see him here on the beach instead of at the bank in the city, where he worked.  It was very plain that he was not dressed in appropriate beach attire, and the siblings had a sinking feeling that this was not simply a casual meeting.

“It’s a right fine day,” Applejack said finally, in an attempt to break the silence.  Of course, when one typically compliments the weather, very seldom do they intend to give an accurate report of the current conditions.  So when Applejack said, “it’s a right fine day,” she was not saying that this dismal, overcast afternoon was in any genuine way ‘nice’.  Apple Bloom made a gurgling noise that sounded something like an upset seagull, and Macintosh leaned down to let her crawl up onto his back.

“Yes, it is a nice day,” Mr. Wright agreed absently, staring out across the grey sands.  Looking back with solemn eyes he continued, “I am afraid that I have some, ah, that is to say, I have some bad news for you.”

The sinking feeling that Applejack and Macintosh had been experiencing developed into genuine feelings of dread as they stared at Mr. Wright.  Macintosh’s ears were flat against his head, but Applejack had connected the dots before him and dropped her hat in disbelief.  There could only be one reason that a close friend of her parents had come all the way out from the city just to find them at Horseshoe Bay.

“Your parents,” Mr. Wright said, “have perished.”

The siblings, with the exception of Apple Bloom, stared at Mr. Wright in shocked silence.

“There was a horrible fire that destroyed the house and the entire apple orchard.  They were unable to make it out in time.” Mr. Wright continued.  “I am so terribly sorry to have to tell you this, my dears.”

Macintosh took his eyes off Mr. Wright and stared out at the ocean.  Mr. Wright had never referred to the siblings as “my dears” before.  Any hope that this was some kind of terrible joke on his part was dispelled by the gravity in those words; he could feel the serenity in Mr. Wright’s speech, and sorrow began to manifesting itself within him.  He heard Applejack make a choking as tears welled up behind her green eyes.  Apple Bloom was looking at her two siblings, and at Mr. Wright, only partly understanding what was going on.  In frustration, she pounded Macintosh’s back with her tiny hooves and screamed, “pah go!” Agitated that she could not fully comprehend what was happening.

“Perished,” Mr. Wright said, his eyes still focused on the distant horizon, avoiding the three ponies eyes, “means ‘died’.”

“We know what th-the word ‘perished’ means!”  Applejack stammered crossly, blinking the tears from her eyes and glaring at Mr. Wright.  Feelings of frustration and helplessness were forcing their way through her subconscious, making her want to scream, cry aloud, and hit Mr. Wright all at once.  However, she did none of these things; instead she just continued to stare at Mr. Wright as the tears fell silently down her muzzle.

“The fire department  arrived, of course,” Mr. Wright went on, looking back at the siblings with an empathetic expression, “but they were too late.  The entire estate was engulfed in flames.  In a matter of minutes nothing was left.  I am so, so sorry.”

Macintosh’s whole body tensed at these words.  The house and the orchard were both gone, just like that.  His father’s life work and his own dream future, all up in flames.  He could feel Applejack losing control next to him.  In that moment he desperately wanted to make Mr. Wright stop talking and comfort his sister, but he found that he could not move a single muscle; all he could do was stare at Mr. Wright and listen to the horrible news, detail after heart-wrenching detail.

Mr. Wright coughed several times into his hoofkerchief before continuing.  “I was sent from the bank to retrieve you three and take you back to my home, where you can stay until we figure out where you will live from now on.  Since I am the executor of your parents’ estate, I will be handling all saved proceeds from the apple business in Baltimare as well as your parents’ fortune. When Macintosh comes of age at sixteen, the fortune will be yours, but the bank has taken charge of it until then.”

Although he said ‘executor’, as far as the siblings were concerned he might as well have said ‘executioner.’  He had simply walked down the shoreline to them and, in a matter of seconds, had changed their lives forever.  None of the siblings knew how to respond.

“Come with me,” Mr. Wright said and gestured back the way he had come.  Applejack scooped up her Coltson once again and placed it upon her head before following after Mr. Wright and her two siblings.  In that manner the three Apple siblings— now the Apple orphans— were led away from the shore and away from the only lives that they had ever known.