//------------------------------//
// Exile 
// Story: Silverponies 
// by Scribblestick 
//------------------------------//

	Applejack had a hard time deciding what was worst, which was good. Thinking about it kept her anxiety at bay.

First, the landscape, or lack thereof. Flat as the eye could see, except the mound and the mountain. Now that her thoughts were clear, she estimated the journey from the mound to the falls took two hours. Math had never been her forte, but based on the number of trips she remembered, and estimating the time she'd slept, she figured she'd been here at least six days.

That didn't help her figure out a way home, but given how little she knew about this place, even that unhelpful tidbit was comforting.

"Focus," she muttered, resuming her mental review of the situation. The flat expanse of earth offered no shelter from the cold night or hiding places from the Silverponies and him. Nothing grew out here, nor had she located any water. Overall, it was the most dismal place imaginable to be stranded.

Second, the Silverponies, or Guardians, or whatever they were called. They would have been an easy pick for worst part about this place, except they weren't chasing her at the moment. She didn't want to believe she'd outrun them, but she could think of no reason they'd let her escape. She could still feel their alien minds in her own, giving her orders and watching her every move. How they watched her, or why they were interested in her, she couldn't say. She didn't much care to find the answers, except to figure out how to avoid their attention in the future. Doing that would go a long way toward maintaining emotional stability.

Third, him. He was nameless, and he was not her friend. He was somehow allied with the Silverponies. Though she knew almost nothing about him, the little she did know filled her with the overwhelming desire to distance herself from him as much as possible. Hence, her nighttime stroll in what she decided to call a desert.

The world was growing blacker by the minute, and Applejack began again to consider her options for shelter. The memory of her countless trips to and from the falls was hazy, but she was fairly certain nights here got pretty cold. "Why can't temperatures be one o' those things ya ban here?" she muttered. "At least that would be useful."

She stopped and removed two sealed barrels from her back. The ground here was just as hard as the path; in fact, the two were distinguishable only by the path's lighter shade of gray. She pounded the ground with her hooves, with no effect. She sighed. Just as always.

She took a few steps away and tried again. No luck. A few more steps, no change in the result. As futile as this seemed, it was her only idea for shelter. The mound appeared to be made of the same material as the ground, so she knew there had to be some way of moving it. But how?

On her seventh attempt, the ground collapsed around her, and she fell.

Applejack yelped. It was the only sound that came from the cave-in. She coughed and sputtered as dust settled around her. To her surprise, she found herself not in a dark, dank pit but what appeared to be a comfortable, thoughtfully carved cave. Crude dirt structures, including a bed, a cistern, a chair, and a table took up most of the space. On the table sat a simple meal of oats and water, and in the chair sat a bewildered-looking pegasus, her mouth open, a spoonful of oats halfway to her mouth.

"Heh," Applejack said with a sheepish smile. "Howdy."

The pegasus' head tilted sideways, and her expression turned from one of confusion to one of curiosity. "Hi," she said, putting her spoon down and crossing the room. "You okay?" 

"Ah'm all right," Applejack said, brushing the dust off coat. "Sorry about the ceiling. Ah, uh, didn't know you were down here."

A chuckle strained its way out the pegasus' throat. "Well, that is the point of a hideout."

"Uh, yeah." Applejack looked around, mostly to avoid making eye contact with the pegasus. "So, ah, what's your name?"

"Firefly."

Applejack nodded. "Ah'm—"

Applejack stopped talking when a hoof covered her mouth. "Don't tell me," Firefly said, peering intently into Applejack's eyes. Applejack stood still, her skin crawling a little as the pegasus circled her. "I know you," Firefly said at last. She shook her head. "I can't say how, but I know you. I've seen your cutie mark before." She pointed to the three red apples on Applejack's flank. "Or at least one very much like it."

Applejack looked at Firefly's flank. Her cutie mark was two blue lightning bolts. She wracked her brain, searching for a connection, but none came. "Sorry. Ah don't know you."





"Who are you?"

He smiled. It was a crooked smile, and it set her fur on end. "It's all right, my dear," he said, stepping toward her. She stepped back. "Don't be afraid."

"Ah ain't afraid," Applejack lied.

He chuckled. "My dear,  it's all right. I'll make your fear go away."

"You stay away from me." Applejack crouched and stamped the ground with a hoof. "Ah'm warning you."

He stopped his advance and looked at her. "All right," he said, his voice soft. The sound — which also shouldn't have existed, she remembered — sunk into her racing heart, forcing it to slow. "What's your name?"

"Applejack," she answered, holding her crouched position. "You?"

"There will be time to talk about me later," he said with a wave of his hoof. Her heart slowed a bit more. "Where is your home?"

"It's..." Applejack shook her head, trying to shake away the haze that still clung to her mind. "Ah don't remember. But it's not here."

"Where else would it be?" he asked. "There is nothing else but this house."

"And the waterfall," Applejack added. Her voice sounded shrill even to her.

"Right, right." He waved his hoof again. Her heart slowed a touch. "Let's move on. How many ponies are there?"

Applejack frowned. It wasn't a question she'd pondered before — not that she'd done a lot of pondering in recent memory. "Ah — Ah don't know," she had to reply. "Ah've only ever seen you and me."

He nodded. Her shoulders relaxed. Her heart slowed. "That's right," he said. "Do you know why that is, Applejack?" She shook her head. The haze was growing thicker again, forcing her fear away. "It's because we are the only two. That's it. There is nothing in this world but you and me and the waterfall."

"A-And the Silverponies."

He frowned. Her heart sped up. "Pardon?"

"The Silverponies," she repeated. "You know. Those gangly things that follow me around."

He cocked his head to the side before bursting into laughter. "You mean the Guardians," he said. "Yes, of course. There are Guardians as well. They're what keep this land safe."

Applejack frowned. Two thoughts brushed against each other in her fog-filled mind with a sensation much like lightning. "From what?"

He frowned again, deeper this time. Her heart sped up a bit more. "What do you mean?"

"Keep us safe from what?" Applejack asked, seizing on the connection. The fog around her mind grew thin. A shard of confidence formed in her chest. "You said there ain't nothing out there but you and me and them and the waterfall. What's there to keep us safe from?"

His lips twitched ever so slightly. He sighed and smiled. "Applejack, there is nothing out there. You belong here with me. Now, why don't you put those barrels on and fetch me some water?"

Applejack couldn't be sure what exactly made her snap. It could have been his condescending attitude or smug expectation that she would just do as he said. In the scheme of things, it didn't really matter why she sent the barrels flying at his face with a quick kick and a scream of, "Like Tartarus  I will!"

The empty barrel bounced off his flank and struck the wall with a hollow thunk before clattering to the ground in pieces. The other, the one still full of water, struck him square in the face. The blow sent him back a few inches and left him sprawled on the floor, a little blood trickling from his nose. 

Applejack stared at his motionless form for a moment before tentatively drawing closer. The flash of anger had left a void that was rapidly being filled with trepidation. "Uh, hello?"

He didn't answer. She prodded him with a hoof but got no response. What he sleeping? Unconscious? Or worse? Her heart rate skyrocketed. The world darkened a bit. Outside, she saw a Silverpony drawing closer.

"Oh, Celestia, Ah've done it now."





"Applejack."

She blinked. "Huh?"

Firefly was looking at her sideways again. "That's your name. Applejack."

Applejack nodded slowly, still feeling on edge. On the one hoof, Firefly had retrieved her barrels from above and given Applejack some simple food and drink, both of which revived her senses and drove back the cloud around her brain. On the other hoof, she somehow knew her name, yet Applejack was certain she'd never met this pegasus before. Firefly's inexplicable knowledge scared her, just like him.

But on the third hoof, how much could she trust her own memory? She didn't remember seeing a pegasus before, yet somehow she knew that's what Firefly was, and that there were more ponies like her. She knew she didn't belong here, yet she had no memory of anywhere but here. She knew what colors were, yet color did not exist in this world — except, apparently, on her and Firefly's flanks, and on his coat when she saw him drink the water, and in her dreams.

And on the fourth hoof, she needed a place to rest and hide from the Silverponies. With three hooves against one, it was hardly a difficult choice, but that didn't mean she had to feel good about it.

Firefly sat down and continued to eat her oats. "I know it's crazy," she said. "Sorry if it creeps you out."

Applejack shook her head. "You can't be any worse than them Silverponies."

"Silverponies?" Firefly looked at her for a moment. "Oh, you mean the Creepers." She shuddered. "They do look a little like ponies when they get mad, I guess."

"Do you think they'll find us here?"

Firefly shrugged. "They haven't so far."

For a while, they sat in silence. Applejack finished eating her oats and watched Firefly, who appeared to be more interested in thinking than eating. Her gaze was unfocused, as if she were staring at some faraway place visible only to her. For a moment, her expression triggered something in her mind, something she needed to remember but couldn't.

"What are you thinking about?" she said at last, unable to reach whatever memory was struggling free of her mind fog.

"Hmm?" Firefly looked at her, her spoon stuck in her mouth. "I was just — I mean — it's nothing."

"Doesn't sound like nothing."

Firefly scowled at her, but it wasn't an unfriendly scowl. It was more like Firefly was accepting some unspoken challenge. "I know I've seen somepony like you before," she said. "It's like — you know how you dream sometimes, and it's like you're in a completely different world? Where everything has color and sound and there's other ponies like us?"

Applejack nodded. "Ah told him about it once. He wasn't interested."

Firefly snorted. "That's putting it lightly, isn't it?"

Applejack couldn't help but chuckle. "'The world is without color. The world is without sound,'" she intoned, doing her best to mimic his voice.

"The world is without fun," Firefly added with a groan. "Seriously. He had me fetching water for who knows how long. First thing I did when I got free was fly as fast as I could — those Creepers never stood a chance." A cocky smile came to her face. It tugged at that memory, still half-buried in fog. "Sometimes you want to just tell the old goat to get the water himself, right?"

"Ah think he's a pony, actually," Applejack corrected her, surprised at how much more comfortable she felt now.

"It's a figure of speech," Firefly replied with a wave of her hoof. "Anyways, a while back I started noticing my dreams always had the same ponies in them. They looked the same, they acted the same, they even had the same names — Ember, Bow Tie, Twilight." That last name made a particularly strong tug in Applejack's mind. "There was one named Applejack. She had an orange coat and a cutie mark similar to yours."

Applejack considered her words. Now that she thought about it, she did recall seeing a few of the same ponies in her own dreams. "Ah think Ah know what you mean."

Another silence stretched between the two, though this time it was Applejack who got lost in her thoughts. She'd never met Firefly before — she was sure of it. Yet something about her was so familiar. And that name, Twilight — it got stuck in her head, like a bridge leading her into the foggy parts of her memory. "Hey, Firefly?"

She looked up at her, mouth full of oats. "Yeah?"

"How long have you been here?"

Firefly swallowed and twirled her spoon in her hoof. "Honestly, Applejack? I've stopped counting. I used to know how long  it was since I 'woke up,' but I've lost track — and without asking him, there's no way I'll ever know how long I was hauling water from that waterfall."

Applejack nodded. "That's not the kind of question he'd answer, anyway."





She had to get out of here before the Silverponies showed up. When she got down to it, that was the one thing she knew for sure.

The barrels she'd kicked were worthless now — broken in pieces and lying closer to him than she dared to venture again. Fortunately for her, he kept a stash in a back room, so replacing them wasn't the problem, nor was filling one with oats.

The problem was getting to the water.

She balanced the barrel on her back and took a deep breath. Somehow, whether by fate or bad luck, his body was slumped right against the cistern. He hadn't moved yet, but she was certain 'yet' was the key word there. She stifled her apprehension and stepped as silently as possible, not bothering to ponder why her hooves were now an exception to the no-noise rule. Slowly, carefully, she eased her way toward the cistern until she was close enough to reach it with the barrel. She submerged the container as much as she dared and pulled it back out, frustrated by the barrel's sudden disregard for the no-weight rule.

Why was it that when something broke the rules, it made things harder for her?

It was a question for another time, she decided, as she jammed lids on both barrels and saddled up. The weight made it hard for her to step quietly, and despite her best efforts, her hooves made more noise than she liked. "Consarnit," she whispered, reaching a hoof for the door. She fought to keep her breathing slow and steady. Just a few more seconds, and she could bolt out of this miserable mound. Where she went from there was a question she hadn't gotten around to answering yet.

His eyes opened the moment her hoof touched the handle.

Applejack froze. He stared up at her, unblinking, expression blank. She felt her chest begin to heave and rattle, and she forced herself to take slower, deeper breaths. "Who are you?" she said at last.

He stared at her. She stared at him. Then, he laughed. She bolted. His laughter echoed after her as the Silverponies began to swarm.





"Applejack!"

She bolted awake, flailing her limbs like she was fighting off the Silverponies. One of her legs connected with something soft and squishy that yelped in pain. "Hey!"

"Wha?" Applejack looked up to see Firefly rubbing her jaw. "Oh. Sorry."

Firefly scowled. "It's okay," she said, "but you owe me one."

Applejack took deep breaths and willed her racing heart to slow. Firefly stepped a little closer, eyes wide. "What were you dreaming about?"

She tried to remember before the dream faded into the fog. "It was one of those dreams — the ones with color and sound and other ponies," she said. "There were these little ponies — fillies, Ah think Ah called them."

Firefly nodded. "Right. That's the name for young ponies."

"One o' them was my — sister, Ah think," Applejack continued. She wasn't completely sure what the word meant, but it was very important. "We were running from the Silverponies."

Firefly frowned. "The Creepers were in your dream?"

"Yeah."

Firefly snorted. "No wonder you were flailing around like that."

"That's not the worst part," Applejack said, holding the dream in her memory despite how much she wanted to forget it. "The worst part was, she wasn't my sister. She was a Silverpony in disguise. My real sister was... was..."

"Was what?"

Applejack growled and pressed her front hooves against her temples. "Ah'm trying to remember! We we're running, and they turned into Silverponies, and then..."

"And then nothing."

Applejack's brow furrowed as she sat up and looked up at Firefly. "You know what Ah'm talking about?"

Firefly nodded slowly. "I've had a dream like that. I'm trying to distract some Creepers so my dream friends can hide. One of them pops out of this cloud and comes right at me, and then...."

There was a pause. "Nothing," Applejack finished.

"Yeah."

The room was silent, but Applejack's head was not. Fragments of memory swirled in her mind, and she tried to put them together. Why were their dreams so similar? Why couldn't she remember anything before the waterfall? Was there really anything else out there, or was she just crazy, becoming more delusional with an equally crazy pegasus?

"Where did you wake up?"

Applejack started from her internal monologue. "Huh?

"Where did you wake up?" Firefly repeated.

Applejack looked around. "Here, on the floor."

Firefly shook her head. "I mean, what's the first thing you remember about this world? Not when you 'woke up' woke up, but the first thing you saw in this place."

Applejack thought for a moment. "The waterfall," she finally said. "Ah remember the waterfall, and the Silverponies coming for me, except they looked more like ponies than normal."

Firefly's eyes glazed over. "That's the first thing I remember, too. There were five of them. It was before him, before the buckets and the water. I remember thinking of how I could get away, and then, when they attacked, for a split second I was in a castle." 

The memory of the crystal room surfaced in her mind. "Ah know what you mean." They were silent for a moment. "Weird, huh?"

"You still think it's a coincidence?"

They stared at each other for a moment, eyes locked, communicating what neither dared to speak. "Ah don't think Ah have to ask how you first 'woke up,'" Applejack said at last.

"Nor I you," Firefly agreed. "I always did like standing under the falls. Made it easier to think, don't you agree?"

Applejack nodded and got to her hooves. "Ah think it's time we visited it again," she said. "Find something to clear our heads."