"Before we begin, first of all I would like to say thank y'all to everypony, for attendin' today."
Wiping a tear from her eye, Twilight Sparkle looked around herself. On a small hill, overlooking the trees that gave Sweet Apple Acres its namesake, a small crowd of ponies had gathered for a solemn ceremony. At the top of the hill was dug a small hole. Beside it sat the urn that contained Applebloom's remains, next to a small gravestone.
Apple Family members from all over Equestria had turned up for Applebloom's funeral. Braeburn from Appleoosa, the Oranges from Manehattan, Apples from Phillydelphia, Vanhoover, Hollow Shades, and countless other towns and cities across the land. Even Babs Seed had made the trip to Ponyville, and now stood weeping silently alongside Sweetie Belle, both wearing their Cutie Mark Crusader capes. Beside them stood Rarity, Pinkie, Rainbow Dash. Fluttershy and Twilight. Black suits, mourning bands and veils were in abundance among the crowd.
Before them all stood Applejack, her hat removed and a simple black jacket on her shoulders. "I'm sure Applebloom is lookin' down from somewhere, happy that so many of her friends and family came to say goodbye, one last time.
I gotta say, this ain't somethin' I ever expected to be havin' to do... Applebloom always seemed so full of life, so energetic. I suppose the same can be said for all fillies her age... She lived a short life, sure, and she was taken from us all far too early. But as short as her life was, it was one full of love, friendship, and always plenty of adventure. She loved her hometown, she loved the outdoors, and she always loved her home, here among the apple orchards. She was loved by all of Ponyville, by her school friends, in particular her fellow Cutie Mark Crusaders. And especially, she was loved by her family. And wherever she is now, I reckon she's lookin' down on us all and smilin' that so many of her friends and family turned out to say goodbye."
Applejack paused a moment as her voice quavered slightly. Taking a deep breath, she continued. "Now, I dunno how it happened, and I dunno if we'll ever find out for sure. But as sure as I'm a member of the Apple Family, fer her sake, I know I'll do everythin' in my power to find out. If nothin' else, at least we can put this mystery to rest."
She silently nodded to Twilight, who nodded wordlessly back. Her horn lighting up, the urn was levitated into the air, hovering before the crowd.
"And so, Applebloom of the Apple Family, in accordance with what you probably would've wished for, we commit your final... mortal remains... to this hill overlooking the apple orchards... which you l-loved so... s-so much," Applejack said, no longer able to hide her sobbing. Stepping aside, she allowed Twilight to lower the urn into the hole, as Pinkie's comforting forehoof wrapped around her shaking shoulders.
Sweetie Belle and Babs stepped forward next, carrying between them Applebloom's Cutie Mark Crusader cape. But next to the patch of the Crusader's symbol, there was another patch, crudely stitched onto the cape. A simple white patch, with written upon it, the words 'Once a Cutie Mark Crusader, always a Cutie Mark Crusader'. Together they gently lowered the folded cape into the grave next to the urn, before scurrying aside to let the other ponies make their final goodbyes. Some spoke quiet words of farewell, some left a simple offering: a colourful flower, a bag of sweets, a perfectly shiny red apple.
Applejack watched each pony as they stopped by the headstone, counting in her head. Well over forty ponies, Apple Family members, schoolchildren, and residents of Ponyville, were in attendance. Even those two brats, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon had showed up, neither looking like they were particularly comfortable being here. But there was one pony missing. One pony who should have been here. She would have to deal with him afterwards.
When everypony had said their goodbyes, Twilight and Rarity raised their horns. A small pile of earth beside the headstone rose into the air and fell neatly upon the grave, forming a tiny mound of dirt. And upon the headstone were the few words:
APPLEBOOM
CRUSADER. SISTER. FRIEND
The day drew on, and Applejack found herself sitting alone on the hill, by the freshly-dug grave of her sister. As the sun began to sink, she watched as the last rays of light played across the trees, glinting off the apples' shiny skins.
"Hope you like yer final gift, Applebloom" Applejack muttered under her breath as she got up and plopped her hat back on. Sighing, she looked down the other side of the hill at the farmhouse below. "Well, no gettin' around it now. I may as well go talk to him."
Giving the headstone one last affectionate pat, she started down the hill, through the orchard, to the gate of the farm. Past the farmhouse and the barn, she headed towards the yard out back next to the shed. And there he was.
Looking exhausted, all light gone from his bleary eyes, sat Big Macintosh. For the past two days, since Appleblooms death, he had sat there, on the spot where it all happened. In his forehoof, he still held the pink hair ribbon, now beginning to fade from exposure.
"Hello, Big Mac," Applebloom said, a frown starting to appear on her face. "I had a feeling I'd find you here."
He said nothing.
"I didn't see you at her funeral today, big brother," she continued. "I gotta say, I'm a might disappointed in you. It's pretty obvious yer still in shock over this whole ordeal, but the least you could've done was show up and pay yer final respects."
Still no response. He just stayed seated on the ground.
"Come on, Big Mac! I know how you feel! I miss her too... but we gotta keep goin'! We need you, Granny Smith and I. The farm needs you," Applejack said.
"My fault."
Applejack batted at one of her ears with a forehoof. Surely she was hearing things? It almost sounded like...
"It's my fault," Big Macintosh muttered, in a voice so quiet and hoarse it was almost inaudible.
Applejack sat down beside him. "Wha d'ya mean? What was yer fault?"
He held up the hair ribbon. "This... Applebloom... It was my fault. I should've been there. I should've been watchin' her... But I wasn't and now... now..."
"Sshh, I know," Applejack said softly. "I know. And I don't wanna hear any of that kinda talk. Nothin' was yer fault, Big Macintosh."
"But... I could've done somethin'... I could've saved her..."
"How, exactly? We don't even know what happened to her, what could you have done?" Applejack asked.
Big Macintosh shrugged. "I dunno... But I wouldn't have let her die... not like that... There must be somethin' we can do..."
"To do what? Bring her back?"
He looked up at his sister, tears finally streaming down his face after days of holding them in. "...M-maybe... I mean, y'all know the Princesses personally and..."
Applejack just shook her head and sighed. "Big brother, if there was some magic that could bring her back, don't ya think we'd have used it by now? Don't ya think we'd have found somepony to bring Ma and Pa back?"
Big Macintosh looked like he was about to respond, but he hesitated and simply nodded.
"I'm not gonna pretend to be any kinda expert on magic, Big Mac," Applejack continued. "But I'm willin' to bet there ain't no magic that can bring back the dead. Now, at the funeral, I made a promise that I'd figure out just what happened to her, and I'm not one to make promises lightly. But we've just gotta face the facts... Applebloom's gone."
Wiping the tearstains from his eyes, Big Macintosh got up and nodded. Applejack clapped him on the back with a forehoof. "Now c'mon, big brother. You've been out here for days now. The nights are gettin' colder, and I don't want ya freezin' yer tail out here. High time you came back in and had a good long rest."
He sniffed deep and, for the first time in days, actually smiled. "Thanks, sis. A good night's sleep ought to do me good."
Side by side, the two went back into the house, where Granny Smith was waiting to welcome them back home with a tender hug. The rest of the evening they spent together, dining in silence. It was a simple meal, some mashed potatoes, baked beans, corn on the cob, and a freshly-baked apple-cinnamon crumble for dessert. Comfort food of the best kind.
After dinner, the three ponies took to their rooms, dwelling in thought about their loss, until the merciful veil of sleep finally overcame them.
For a short time, at least. For as the moon reached its peak in the sky, Big Macintosh started awake.
No matter what he did, he could not stay asleep. The events of the past few days kept replaying over and over in his head. Hearing what sounded like Applejack calling his name. Following the voice and finding nothing. Hearing Scootaloo's blood-curdling scream and sprinting back to find her knelt before what was left of Applebloom...
He shook his head, beads of sweat and tears flying to and fro. He could see where Applejack was coming from, but she just did not understand. How could she? How could she know what it could be like to leave the child you were meant to be watching over for a matter of seconds, only to return to find them dead at your hooves?!
His sister's words still rang in his ears. "There ain't no magic that can bring back the dead." But what if there was? He had seen wonders of magic before that he still could not understand. Heck, he saw it every morning as the sun rose! Before the Princesses were around, the sun was raised up by scores of unicorns working together.
But the rising sun is a completely natural process, a voice in his head said. That is something that is supposed to happen. Raising the dead ain't natural.
But why not? Why couldn't death be reversed? Nopony, not even the Princesses in all their wisdom, know what lies beyond the veil. Maybe there is some way to bring ponies back, bring life back to their bodies.
"One thing's fer sure," he whispered to himself. "I sure as hay won't find it here."
Tossing the bedspread aside, he silently snuck over to the dresser on the other side of his room. Grabbing a sheet of paper and a pencil in mouth, he scribbled a quick note that he would leave in his absence. Once he was done, he slipped it into a small envelope and left it on his bed.
He took a small saddlebag from under his bed and began packing. He would need to be well underway as soon as possible.
While Ponyville was still reeling from its losses, life went on in Canterlot city the next morning. Shops opened, cafes served fancy teas and tiny cakes for extortionate prices, and, as always, the Palace was open for the Royal Court.
Hundreds of ponies lined up through the main hall of the palace, leading to the throne room where Celestia sat and listened to everypony who came to request an audience with the Princess. Some had requests that the Princesses would take into account, some had disputes they wanted solved, and some simply wished to greet the Princess and offer their praise to her for everything she did for them.
And right in the middle of the queue stood four figures with rather different motives.
"This is ridiculous," Gilda muttered. "I thought you were supposed to be some super-powerful wizard or something, why are we just waiting in line?"
The Fallen King, his face still concealed by his tattered hood, replied, "Gilda, just because our intents are... shall we say, revolutionary, doesn't mean we have to behave like thugs. We are here to seek a diplomatic solution and request that the Princesses stand down as rulers of this land."
"And if they refuse, we try a more direct approach?" asked Chrysalis, now disguised as a middle-aged pegasus.
"Indeed. And kindly leave the talking to me," he continued.
"If you're doing all the talking, then why are we here?" Blueblood asked.
"For my protection," the Fallen King replied. "Should matters turn sour. And it is likely they will. However, that said, the Princesses have a right to know who stands against them."
"But won't they end up coming after you after they find out?" Chrysalis asked as the line moved forward a few paces.
"Perhaps. But by the time they find me, it will be far too late. They will be too preoccupied with keeping their own kingdom under control to have time to worry about me," he said with a grin.
As the day wore on, the line slowly inched forwards, bit by bit, pony by pony. Around mid-afternoon, the quartet of conspirators finally found themselves at the front, before the doors of the throne room.
"You four are together then?" a burly guardspony by the doorway asked. The four of them nodded. "Alright then, the Princess will see you now."
The four entered the throne room and stood behind the velvet rope where all appeals were made from. The Fallen King glanced about and took note of every guard that was in the room. Fourteen of them in total: two by the doorway, two outside, three along each side of the throne room, and two on either side of the throne. And elevated above them one her golden throne, sat Princess Celestia herself. The slight look of boredom on the Princess's face was slightly alleviated as she noticed her nephew among the four of her subjects entering.
"Blueblood? This is unexpected," Celestia said, sitting up in her throne. "Where have you been these past few days?"
"Good afternoon, auntie Celestia," the prince replied. "I've been with some new friends of mine. And one of them here, has something he would like to say to you."
He stepped aside, and Celestia at last got a good look at the cloaked figure who stood behind them all. As he came into view, she had a sudden feeling of unease. For one thing, this cloaked pony had a rather unnerving look about him. A tattered cloak, stained and dusty, with some sort of iron barding visible underneath. A band of silver around his head, set with a large jewel of obsidian carved in the shape of a scorpion. And most disturbing of all, a horn that curved wickedly up from his forehead. Still, Celestia liked to think she was not one to judge somepony purely on appearances.
Just her luck then, that this stranger gave her whole new reasons to find him disturbing. For she felt it again, that strangely familiar, nauseating magical aura she had sensed recently. There was no mistaking it, this pony was the source of that aura. But why was it so familiar?
"And what would this request be, sir?" she asked, maintaining a professional demeanour.
The Fallen King stepped up to the rope. "Well, Princess, that is simple. You can surrender your position as ruler."
A chilly silence descended on the throne room as his words echoed off the walls. Celestia blinked. "Um... Excuse me?"
"You heard me," he responded, his voice unnervingly cheery. "You can step down from that throne of yours, give up your rule over Equestria, and hand it back to its rightful owner."
The guards surrounding them tensed up, but did not advance, as Celestia stood up from her throne. "And... who would this rightful owner be, exactly?"
The Fallen King smiled. "You know full well who, Celestia. You just don't want to think about it. The pony who you and your sister overthrew all those millennia ago, taking his land and his kingdom as your own."
"I... I don't know what you're talking about," the Princess said, becoming very worried now. The guards around her throne now held their spears firmly, ready to spring into action at the word of their ruler.
"Oh, but you do, Celestia," he continued, ignoring the spears that were now pointed at him and his entourage. "Deep down, you remember how it all happened. How you brought down your own king, proclaiming him to be a tyrant merely for having ambition. How you fought him on the battlefield and destroyed his kingdom. Well, that king stands before you now, and he is not impressed. Indeed, I am quite ashamed of you. My dear student."
Celestia's eyes widened as she heard those words. Surely not... How could it be?! "What did you call me?!"
"Oh cut the charade, 'Tia. You know very well who I am. You thought you were done with me, didn't you?"
"It... it can't be... You can't be...!" the Princess could only sputter. Her guards looked up to her in confusion. They rarely saw her so unnerved.
The Fallen King chuckled, a low, wheezy chuckle. "Oh yes, my not-so-faithful student. Your dear old teacher is back in town."
He lifted his silver crown off of his head and tossed back his hood. What was hidden beneath that hood made the blood of everypony who saw it, run cold.
He was a unicorn stallion with pale yellow fur, clashing with his electric-blue eyes. His face was heavily lined with age, and patches of his skin seemed scaly and pockmarked, decayed like a corpse. From his eyes emanated wisps of a strange purple energy, like fire and smoke combined, casting strange shadows on his face. Under his cloak, his torso was encased in dull metal armour, and his hooves were concealed in iron boots made in a similar design. And around his shoulders and chest fell a long mane and beard of silvery grey hair, reaching almost past his chest.
His horn glowed a sickly yellow colour, hissing and bubbling with black and purple flashes, and a large wide-brimmed pointed hat appeared above him. It landed firmly atop his head, the bells that were stitched around the brim and to the point of the hat jingling. As he places the silver crown around the base of his hat, he grinned an evil grin up at the Princess. "Well, 'Tia, recognise me now, hahah!!"
Celestia reeled back, stumbling a few steps before sitting back down hard upon her throne. Her eyes were wide with disbelief and terror, and her mouth felt dry. "...I...Impossible...It is you...!"
"Indeed," The Fallen King replied. With a swirl of his cape and a jangling of his hat, he turned to face the dozens of observing guards, court-officials, his entourage and whatever ponies outside could see through the doorway. "I am King Starswirl the Bearded, Sorcerer Supreme and King of the Unicorn Kingdom."
He turned again, pointing an accusing hoof at Celestia, who could only watch in slack-jawed shock.
"And I have returned to take back that which is rightfully mine!"