The sun set, and rose again in due time, shedding light on a new day. For some, it was the signal to get out of bed and start working in the hopes that it would distract them from the uncomfortable questions they couldn’t stop asking themselves, and perk them up a little better than the night of restless slumber they’d had.
For others, it meant getting their hooves dirty and going for another cutie mark in a dwindling field of possible talents.
"Ah dunno, girls, this seems wrong," Applebloom said, eying the sunlight-dappled scene before her anxiously. The ground around the clubhouse was practically covered in sawdust and offcuts of wood from the Crusaders’ latest cutie mark crusade.
"Nah, it just looks wrong," Scootaloo said, her voice muffled. "Once we get this rope tighter, it’ll look a bit better."
"You know," Sweetie Belle puffed, the small unicorn struggling to hold her position. "I thought of something. What we need is a safeword."
"Eh?" Scootaloo asked, looking up at Sweetie.
"A safeword," Sweetie repeated. "So we don’t have any confusion about one of us being in danger, you know? A code-word for 'abort mission' or something."
"Yeah, Ah can dig that," Applebloom said, consulting the big tome she had propped up in front of her. "How about ‘Apple’?"
"That doesn’t seem like a good safe word," Scootaloo pointed out.
"What’s wrong with apples?" Applebloom challenged.
"Nothing," Scootaloo backtracked. "But, you know, it sounds a lot like your name. It is your name, actually. What if you mishear us?"
"Hmm, good point," Applebloom admitted. "Alright, what do you propose?"
"I’m thinking... ‘Rainbow’."
"Okay, and that’s a better choice how?" Sweetie grunted.
"It’s not my name?" Scootaloo retorted, yanking on her rope.
"But it’s the name of somepony you talk about all the time," Sweetie said.
There was a quiet grunt of concession from within the framework the Crusaders had spent the morning putting together, but no other objections.
"I’m thinking a universal signal," Sweetie said. "What about banana’?"
"Banana?" Applebloom asked.
"We don’t know any bananas, I guess," Scootaloo admitted.
"But Ah don’t like bananas," Applebloom complained.
"You don’t have to like it," Scootaloo said. "It just has to be distinctive." She grunted. "And there. Whew. Tight fit."
Applebloom put the Bumper Book of Siege Engineering down, and craned her neck to look at the assembly that Scootaloo was now crawling out of.
"Can I let go now?" Sweetie asked.
"Yeah, let ‘er go now," Applebloom confirmed, and there was a twang as a rope went taut.
"Huh, you’re right," Sweetie remarked, as she hopped off the top of the machine and backed up. "Looks pretty good when you got the string on it."
"Did we earn blister cutie marks yet?" Scootaloo wondered, looking at her own flank.
"It’s ‘ballista’," Applebloom corrected. "And no."
"Rats," Scootaloo said. "This thing looks pretty cool, I thought I had a knack for it."
"It was a team effort," Sweetie Belle decided. "Good work, team."
"Ah reckon we won’t get the cutie mark for it until we fire it," Applebloom said.
"Fire it with what?" Sweetie asked, walking over to the book. "Whoa! That’s a huge arrow!"
"Yeah," Applebloom said. "I dunno if we can get a bolt like that."
"Couldn’t we just use a stick?" Scootaloo asked.
"Bit big for a stick," Sweetie observed.
"Didya mean a branch?" Applebloom asked.
"Yeah, yeah," Scootaloo said. "Branch. Totally meant that."
"Well, got one here," Applebloom said, walking over to a nearby tree, and picking up a bough that was almost as thick as her body by the end, and dragging it over to the now-completed ballista.
"Hey guys," Sweetie said, rubbing the back of her mane. "I’m getting that feel again."
"What kind of feel?" Scootaloo asked, helping Applebloom move the branch by grabbing it by a stick.
"It’s a feely kind of feel," Sweetie clarified. "A feel that feels feely. You know, the one I have right before we do something monumentally dumb."
"Oh, come on," Applebloom said, tossing her end of the branch on the ballista. "How is this a dumb idea?"
"Yeah, we even double-checked it," Scootaloo said, nudging her end into place. "And we got a long rope so we can set this off from behind a tree or something so it doesn’t blow up in our faces."
"I dunno," Sweetie said. "I feel like we’re about to change a whole lot of stuff and hurt somepony."
"Excuse me," Applebloom said, winding the drawstring back with the crank. "Are you saying Ah didn’t think this through? It’s pointed at the Everfree forest. Nopony in front of th’ ballista for miles. Safety first."
"Trust us," Scootaloo said, leaning on the ballista. "We got this locked down. Could not be any saf-"
There was a clunk of wood, and a loud whump that startled them all, Scootaloo falling over as the thing she leaned on shifted. The string vibrated in place violently, suddenly back where it started, and the branch that had been loaded was gone, a small speck quickly vanishing beyond the treeline.
"On second thoughts," Applebloom said quickly, "We might wanna go make sure that didn’t land anywhere it shouldn’t."
* * *
Applejack whistled to herself as she bucked another tree, and a rain of apples rewarded her efforts, falling neatly into perfectly placed tubs.
She blew a blonde lock out of her sweaty face and adjusted her hat. Her gut feeling had turned out right -- applebucking was good for the soul. Or for a troubled mind, at least. It was hard to ask yourself questions like "Why would an immortal stone golem be afraid of me" when you- aw, heck.
Applejack moved onto the next tree, and prepared to kick it. She’d gone and thought of it again. Her hooves hit the bark, and the crack it made sounded not unlike the kick she’d dealt the woldwarden. This time, she couldn’t even appreciate the apple perfection that was raining out of the tree. It shouldn’t have been twisting her up like this. Whatever the reason, the woldwarden had gone away and left her friends alone. They were alive and unhurt, and that should have been enough.
Applejack clicked her tongue irritably when she spotted a stray apple next to the foot of the tree; it must have landed in the bucket next to it and bounced out. She hated it when they did that. Applejack bent over and picked up the apple, dropping it back in the bin, when she heard a thin whistling sound.
Her ears struggled to identify the sound as it grew louder. It wasn’t more timberwolves, was it? Because she was honestly sick of them by now.
Then it hit her, and Applejack found herself thrown sideways, hat flying off her head. Luckily, her journey was a swift one and came to a very abrupt end as she heard the crunching of wood, and her face slammed into a treetrunk.
When she came to, she became acutely aware of several things. One, her face hurt from slamming into the bark where she was now resting. Two, her sides really hurt, and not in the "Pinkie Pie just told a hilarious joke involving two investment bankers and a goat" kind of way.
And probably most alarming was three, which was the fact that she couldn’t feel the ground beneath her hooves. Applejack took a deep breath, trying not to freak out, and dared to look down.
"Nope," she said quickly, looking back up and trying not to believe what she’d just seen. This was all just a bad dream. There was no way a big old branch had punched straight through her and pinned her to a tree trunk. That was ridiculous. She would be dead, right?
She waited a little bit in denial, but didn’t wake up or pass out, and so dared to look down again. This time, she couldn’t help but stifle a sob as she saw just how bad it really was. The branch had just gone through the middle of her torso, below the ribs. No biggie. Not like there was any important organs in there, right?
She kicked her legs ineffectually, and felt some give in a disturbing place as she shifted along the branch slightly. She looked at the length of the branch that was on the outside of her, and winced. It only got larger, and she could see a few twigs that would in all probability be absolutely horrible to her, pointing the wrong way.
She looked the other way, and saw that between her and the trunk, there was a little bit of branch, and it was already fractured. Applejack scooted herself out from it gingerly, as far as she dared, and worked out a plan.
Right now, she had to be in that thing they talked about in first aid class. Shock. That was it. She couldn’t feel a thing because her body was trying to help her get out of this alive. So she had to work fast, before the pain came back and she died or something. Well, she was probably going to die anyway, but she wanted to do that on solid ground, and she was determined to do that, at least.
So, with that in mind, Applejack girded her loins, and as vigorously as she dared, jostled herself, bouncing up and down by swinging her legs and kicking at the air. Aside from the horrible sensation of the branch moving around inside her, she felt a little give with each bounce, the branch bending a little bit more with each bounce, splinters working free from the branch next to the trunk.
"Over here, girls!" Applebloom’s voice called out. "I think it came down over here!"
Applejack cursed silently. The crusaders. She couldn’t let them see her like this, it would... well. ‘bloom had already lost two family members. She didn’t need to see her big sister go as well. She threw herself into it harder this time, rocking up and down to break the branch quicker, and her efforts were rewarded with more distinct snapping sounds.
And as she bounced down, it finally cracked and with a thud, the branch hit the ground, tipping Applejack over for a moment before she managed to stagger the other way, and pull herself free with a sickly squelch.
The other end of the branch hit the ground, and she looked at it in alarm, realizing she’d need to take it with her.
And froze, when she saw there was no blood on it. She looked around beneath her and on the tree. Nothing.
Her heart skipped a beat, and Applejack froze up as her brain started jumping to uncomfortable conclusions. A lockup that she was shaken out of when she heard the sound of running hooves.
She could have an existential crisis somewhere else. For now, she needed to hide. She looked around, and saw the pile of apple buckets that she’d made nearby, all filled with apples. She ran over to it awkwardly, wary of the uncomfortable cold breeze she was feeling around her midsection, and slid behind the tall pile just in time, as there were gasps from the Crusaders.
"Ooooh no," Sweetie Belle said. "I told you this was a bad idea."
"It’s just stuck in a tree trunk," Scootaloo said. "Well, it must have been, anyway. See, it’s all broken-" there was a groan of disgust. "Aw, come on, tree sap? Again?"
"It’s alright," Applebloom said, voice low. "It’s just one tree, it’ll be fine, Ah reckon. But look at all these buckets." There was a rustle of grass. "Applejack must be nearby, she’s never far away from her hat."
"Maybe we can hide the evidence?" Sweetie asked.
"Yeah, you do that," Applebloom said. "Ah’ll go stall my brother or sister."
The sound of small hoofsteps moved away from the tree where Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo were quietly discussing how they would get the branch away without coating themselves in more sap, and Applejack realized something. Applebloom was going to see the holes in her sides.
Then her gaze fell on a pair of loose tubs, and she quickly reached over and pulled them towards her, before slouching down deep, and crossing her legs and forelegs casually. Just as the steps grew louder and closer, she closed her eyes, and pretended to be asleep.
And then the steps stopped, and there was a quiet noise of surprise. A few more, and Applejack’s heart beat faster as Applebloom presumably got closer. Would she notice?
And then Applejack felt something get placed on her snout and face -- her hat -- and the steps retreated cautiously, before breaking into a proper canter back over to the tree.
"Ah found AJ," Applebloom said quietly. "She’s havin’ a nap behind those apple buckets there. So if we stay real quiet, she might not even notice us."
"A nap?" Scootaloo asked, incredulous. "This early?"
"She looked a bit tired at breakfast," Applebloom said. "Maybe she ain’t feelin’ so hot."
"Let’s not look the gift horse in the mouth," Sweetie suggested. "Applebloom, grab the other end?"
"Yeah, sure-" there was a groan. "Oh, come on. Sap?"
"One," counted off Sweetie, ignoring Applebloom. "two-"
"Three!" Scootaloo said, and there was a synchronized grunt of exertion, and the sound of timber leaving the ground.
Applejack waited as the sounds of hushed coordination and bickering vanished into the distance before she dared to sit up, and adjust her hat on her head.
Crisis averted. She looked down, and flexed her hooves. And she was still feeling exceptionally good for a dead pony walking. She gingerly got up, and bent her neck around to carefully look at the hole through her side. It was wide, and puckered where flesh had been pulled inwards, but aside from that... it was surprisingly tidy. A thin trickle of translucent fluid dribbled out of it, and Applejack caught it awkwardly on a hoof, feeling the texture.
"I’ve heard of being sappy, but this is ridiculous," she said, disbelievingly.
* * *
Twilight Sparkle was building another book fort. Not on purpose, of course, that would be immature and childish, but the newest Princess of Equestria had a habit of placing referenced books next to her for quick access and cross-referencing.
The latest subject of her research: Woldwardens. Ponyville library wasn’t the biggest in the country (A title that belonged to Manehattan Central) or the richest in esoteric knowledge (Canterlot Castle, Restricted Wing) but it had a sizeable selection of books that, in the past, she would have dismissed as bound trash, the researcher’s equivalent of gossip.
After that debacle with Super Naturals, though, she had an appreciation for the books, recognizing them as amazingly detailed information on things that were credible enough to believe, but not quite credible enough to make it into a quadruple-verified research paper. The things she’d only seen vague hints of in Canterlot textbooks, which had entire chapters dedicated to them in tomes here that broke down everything that so much as rumoured to exist, from Alicorns to Zebras.
Compared to some of the other topics available, the entries for woldwardens had extensive and detailed information on them, which she was reading up on now, and seeing a lot of cross-references to timberwolves, and-
There was a crash as the library door was thrown open.
"Twilight?" Applejack’s voice called out. "Twilight, y’here?"
"Applejack!" Twilight chided, putting down her book and departing the fort to go confront her noisy friend. "This is a library! Indoor voices!"
Applejack spotted Twilight emerge from the reading room, and rushed over to her, saddlebags hanging by her sides and bouncing about, limp.
"Twi, I got a real big problem," Applejack confided quickly, and now quietly. "It is kind of a matter of life and death."
"W- of course," Twilight nodded, taken aback. Life or death for Applejack must be pretty serious. "What is it?"
Applejack nudged Twilight back into the reading room, and making sure nobody was watching, reached around and let her saddlebags drop to the floor, presenting her side to Twilight.
Twilight’s cheeks ballooned out, and she quickly summoned a bucket out of nowhere, which she promptly buried her head in and vomited. Applejack waited until Twilight was done, and had wiped her mouth with the back of a hoof.
"Applejack," Twilight gagged. "This is not- you need a doctor!"
"I’m thinking maybe I don’t," Applejack pointed out uncertainly. "This happened half an hour ago."
"Half an hour ago?" Twilight hissed. "How are you still alive? How did this even happen?"
"I think the crusaders had somethin’ to do with it," Applejack said. "I heard the word ‘ballista’, and if I get through this, I am going to give Applebloom such an earful. And if I knew how I was still alive, I wouldn’t be coming to you, now, would I?"
"Why me?" Twilight protested, gesturing at herself. "Do I look like a doctor?"
"Y’all are a princess," Applejack said, leaning in close with a pleading look on her face. "And a huge nerd, to be blunt. If I ain’t right, I can trust you to not just lock me away and throw away th’ key. I don’t wanna go to Rosewell or no Area 51."
Twilight swallowed. "Alright. I’ll see what I can do." She gingerly looked down from Applejack’s face, and at the wound. Looking at it a second time, it wasn’t so bad. The hole was relatively clean, and rather wide bore. The apparent damage was mostly down to this clearly being the exit wound, and it didn’t look as bad when Twilight realized that Applejack wasn’t bleeding.
Twilight got closer, curiosity suddenly overriding squeamishness. "Uh, Applejack," she said quietly, using her magic to pick up a glob of the fluid tricking out of Applejack’s wound. "What is this?"
"The crusaders thought it was just tree sap," Applejack said.
"Tree sap?" Twilight frowned. "Why is..." she trailed off as she looked at the wound in more detail. "Applejack, what do you know about pony anatomy?"
"I, uh," Applejack shrugged. "Important stuff in the ribcage, less important stuff under it?"
"There should be a lot of ‘less important’ stuff here," Twilight remarked. "And yet, your lower torso appears to be... well, mostly pure muscle?"
"I do work out?" Applejack guessed. "Wait, where’s my less important stuff?"
Twilight looked Applejack in the eye and shrugged. "By all rights, you should be trailing several feet worth of intestine right now. And dead. But, well," Twilight indicated the hole lamely. "This is literally a flesh wound because you don’t seem to have any actual intestines that I can see from here. Just muscle, which kind of looks like..."
"Like?"
Twilight frowned. "Wood. Really flexible wood. When was the last time you had an X-ray?"
"Never needed one," Applejack said proudly. "Never broke a hoof, leg, bone..." Applejack’s pride waned a little. "Uh, actually, now that I think about it, I think the worst I ever got was a sprained fetlock?"
Twilight sat on her haunches. "This all sounds familiar... but where did I..." Twilight froze and slowly turned to look at the book she’d put down to greet Applejack.
"What is it?" Applejack asked, before letting out a nervous laugh. "Don’t tell me I’m like, a timberwolf in pony skin? That might maybe explain the timberwolves the other day."
Twilight shook her head as she flicked backwards through the book. "No, no, I was reading an article on woldwardens. That big stone thing."
"Hard to forget," Applejack said.
"Turns out, they are incredibly durable, and very rare," Twilight continued. "They’re only seen in areas in or around places weather can’t be controlled by pegasi. Like the Everfree."
"How is that relevant?"
"Because they are the servants of things that live in untamable forests," Twilight said. "Most timberwolves, too." Twilight stopped on the page she was looking for, and held it out to Applejack.
"Dry-ads," Applejack read aloud, eyes narrowing as she squinted at the page. "Magic plant ponies?"
"There’s almost nothing on dryads," Twilight said, turning the book back around and scanning the single page. "Just rumors. They’re supposed to be very in touch with nature. Strong and as tough as an oak."
Applejack caught Twilight’s pointed look. "Hey, why are you looking at me like that for?"
"Does that sound like anypony in this room?" Twilight asked. "Somepony who has a hole through her torso and isn’t dead? Also made of flexible fleshy wood?"
Applejack blinked. "H-hold on, now," she stammered. "This all just has to be a coincidence. Lookit the bit about dryad descriptions. Bark skin?" Applejack pointed at herself. "I’ve got rough skin, and all, but not that rough. Besides," Applejack said. "I’m a pony, got two pony siblings, remember? And they’ve both definitely broken bones and had x-rays. They’re ponies, through and through. How can I be a dryad if my kin are all ponies?"
Twilight put the book down. "Applejack, I can see how this might be hard to believe, but... well, your siblings might not be dryads, but I can’t see any other reason you have a hole through you, appear to be made of wood and not dying."
"This can’t be real," Applejack said, sitting down numbly. "I’m dreamin’. It’s one of them lucy dreams."
"Lucid dreams," Twilight corrected. "And I’m sorry, but you just read a book. You can’t read in dreams."
Applejack looked up at Twilight, dread on her face. "I- I just can’t... how?"
Twilight walked over to Applejack, and gingerly avoiding the hole in Applejack’s side, leaned in for a comforting hug. "There, there," Twilight said awkwardly. "Look, you’ve got me. And the rest of our friends. Whatever’s going on, we’re gonna help you through it."
Applejack sniffed. "Thanks, Twi."
"I mean it," Twilight said. "Princesshood means I have access to a lot of stuff. Records, historians, experts... state secrets. I’m sure one of them will explain what’s going on here."
Applejack perked up a little. "Maybe we won’t need any of them."
"Why?"
Applejack gave a weak smile. "I just figured it out. Granny Smith. She oughta know something. No, everything."
"Could be," Twilight said. "You okay to teleport?"
"As okay as I ever am," Applejack said.
Twilight inclined her head, and sparing the visibly anxious Applejack a quick glance, applied her magic to the fabric of space and pulled hard, leaving nothing behind but a flash of light and some displaced air.