//------------------------------//
// Chapter One: Someplace Greener 
// Story: Where the Fruit Grows Redder 
// by Pizzema Forte 
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      It was the awakening of the evening. Long, finger-like golden rays stretched across the flat horizon of the grassy fields on the outskirts of Filly Delphia. The shimmering sunbeams cast down brilliantly onto a large area of land hidden by thick rows of apple trees. Beyond the blooming forest was nothing but a large cabin and dinky barn owned by a small portion of the Apple family. The name of this remote chunk of land was named Sweet Apple Orchard, and had the responsibility of providing for all of those in the large city next to it. Nopony was going to lie, it was a hard business. Having to divide all the work between two adults and a trio of kids wasn't easy. The family always managed, though. Even with the large amounts of work each had to endure, nopony complained. The conditions were fair, and even after working nine hours of the day, the Apples always found time for each other and entertainment. In the end of the day, all the had work was worth it... 

Well, at least, nopony ever vocalized that it wasn't. The older teenagers of the household did struggle trying to keep their work, educations, and social lives all in balance. One in particular, however, found it more of a problem than others. Within his mind, he always thought of how much he hated the long hours of labor. He hated the sweltering heat in the summer, and the way he could never sleep without an aching body. He hated the little time he had to socialize with the little friends he actually had. He hated most of all, however, that he always felt like the weakest link. He'd work just as long as the others, and put in just as much effort, yet his work was hardly ever recognized. His family was always focused on his older siblings, all of which were physically stronger, and were able to get more work done with not as much effort. The youngest sibling would get recognized for was the fact he'd work late. Every evening, after he siblings went inside to rest, Braeburn would stay outside amongst the large orchard of apple trees. With the day coming slowly to a close, he was happy he only had one more wagon to fill before the days end. As he made his way through the ripe red delicious trees, the young earth pony stopped to buck only the ones that looked the most plentiful. The towering rows were always easy to navigate through. Although most trees were already stripped bare by his siblings, Braeburn always found a good tree if he ventured further outside the most inner row. The further he went, the better trees he found. He was nearly seven rows of apple trees in before he at long last found one that looked good enough to buck. As he approached it, he removed himself from his half-full wagon and went through the same repeated process he'd done numerous times that day. 





For what felt like the thousandth time that evening, Braeburn levitated his hind legs, using his front ones to keep balance. At that moment, sweat was matting his yellow and orange mane and dripping down his reddened face. His green eyes were weary from the long day of hard labor, and his mind was numb from hours without rest. As hard as his lame body could, the colt kicked his hind legs back. His yellow hooves cannoned into the rough bark of the apple tree, which caused it to tremble from impact. After the hard kick, the same thing happened that had happened every time he bucked a tree; a small cluster of ripe apples would rain from the treetops and down into his wooden wagon below. Nearly seven ripe apples fell into the near-full wagon below. A few stray ones landed to the side, but that wasn't Braeburn's biggest concern at the time. All he could concentrate on was the harsh ache in his back legs. He felt as though he'd collapse if he bucked one more tree. Thankfully for him, his day was over. 

Last one... He thought as he panted heavily. Thank Celestia that was the last one.

The young pony took in a few deep breaths, trying hard to regain feeling in his hind legs and chest. His heart burned from hulling what felt like a hundred pounds of apples from tree to tree, and his haunches were on fire. After regaining small amounts of his composure, the pony made his way back over to his wooden wagon. The vehicle was perfect for Braeburn's size. It was in the shape of a square, and around a meter in all sides. It was deep enough to hold nearly three hundred apples, but the colt decided to hold a portion of that for the sake of his back. He latched himself onto the harness and proceeded to trot deep into the orchard, heading home with another load of sweet apples. 

Alright... Braeburn thought as he trotted. Just today you got nearly ten wagons full of apples. That's two more than yesterday... That should be enough to top Cortland, right?Or at least Ginger Gold. I mean, yesterday you had an excuse because you were workin' the kitchen most the day, but today you've had a lot more time to buck apples. Plus, I didn't see Cortland and Goldy working too too hard. I mean, most the time Cortland was just lounging around doing nothing. He couldn't've gotten that much done.

Going through many rows of red delicious beauties, Braeburn took a moment to examine the scenery around him. He'd been born into a family dedicated to the art of apple farming, and to his luck, was born in a large apple orchard. It was about half the size of his family's farm outside Ponyville, but it was enough to provide for Filly Delphia if they worked their absolute hardest. 

I wonder who the first Apple was... the young stallion thought to himself as he gazed at the plentiful trees. I mean, Obviously somepony had to start this whole apple thing off. I just wonder her originally set everything up. I wonder why they chose apples of all fruits... I mean, apples have always been in pretty high demand, so I guess it's good to start a business off with. Wonder if my life would've been different if it'd been a different fruit.

Brauburn looked at the ground for a moment, thinking about the wide variety of crops he could have ended up with. Lots of things sounded reasonable, while some things sounded too odd to make too big of a profit off of. 

Maybe it'd be nice to work with a lower-needed fruit, though. I wouldn't have to work so hard. It was then, the colt chuckled. 

"Come on, now, Brae. Don't start with lazy thinkin'. Apple buckin's prob'ly the only way ya manage to stay in shape." 

Although that was true, the colt still didn't appreciate the burning in his legs and back after the long day of work. Maybe a little break from all the hard labor would have been good for him. It was a thought he seldom considered, knowing he had little options no matter what he wanted. 

Quickly, Braeburn shook the thought of breaking from his mind. He continued on down the forest trail. He was lost of thought at that point,  and more focused on simply getting home to relax. His quickened his pace, almost to a point he was at a gallop. He wasn't far from home, and just wanted to be there. More than anything, he wanted to get a good meal in his system and have a nice, long night's rest. The exciting thought of no more effort was a good one, and tempted the pony closer to home. Swiftly, the stallion picked up his pace and galloped as fast as he could with the wagon behind him. His aching body was overshadowed by the thought of relaxation. He went as fast as he could, weaving through branches at the speed of sound. His little, wood house glowed brightly in the background. As he drew closer, he could smell the faint scent of dinner cooking. His mouth started to water as he picked up hints of vegetables and apple cinnamon. He took in a deep whiff as he galloped faster. He was going so fast and had his green eyes glued on the cabin so much, he hardly even noticed it when he hit a root in his path. His front hooves hit the thick python, which caused him to suddenly fall. With a grunt, he landed on the ground face first. Unfortunately, his harness was on him tight enough to take the cart with him. The little wagon tilted upwards, causing many of the apples to fall out and roll leisurely down the slanted path. At first, the earth pony didn't notice. He was too concentrated on the pain in his jaw and chest to worry about that. 

Man, does that hurt... Braeburn moaned in pain as he lowered his hind legs, only to be shocked at the feeling of a rather light wagon being dropped with him. He opened his eyes and saw a red delicious tumbling by him. He frowned as he stood up from his positing, no longer caring about the pain. He turned around, only to see a half-empty wagon behind him. His green eyes went wide as he gasped in horror. 

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no!" The poor pony detached himself from the harness and examined the mess he'd made. Long rows of apples had been running down the hill, all gathering at the bottom in mass. His heart sunk and his ears flattened at the site. "Oh no..." 

"Once an apple's touched the ground, it's dirty." Braeburn's mother's voice range in his mind. "And we do no serve dirty apples on this farm. It's clean or nothin'!"

Frantically, the teen picked up a few of the apples around the wagon and tossed them inside. He knew his mother wouldn't have been too happy if she found out he "wasted" that much crop. His mother and father were both easily angered when it came to things affecting their business. It was always a bit annoying, considering the family had plenty in savings and could even risk a bad harvest. 

Gingerly, Braeburn placed the apples back into the wagon, making sure they looked as pristine as possible. He picked up one after another, only ignoring the ones that looked too banged up or dirty to keep. After getting only around thirteen stray apples back in the cart, he saw the front door of his home -which was only a few meters away- open. He almost instantly went into a mental panic. He knew for sure his family wouldn't be too impressed by his accident, and didn't think he'd get caught so soon. 

Out of the wooden doorframe walked a pony Braeburn recognized as his mother; Apple Blossom. She was a middle aged mare with a very light yellow coat. Her orange mane was put back in a ponytail, and her eyes were a fair mid between orange and red. Her warm colors were very contradictory to the lime green ribbon around her chest. She carried pride in her walk, but concern in her expression as she approached her son. 

"You okay, Hun?" she asked as she grew nearer. "Honeycrisp said she saw ya fall." 

Braeburn, trying to act as casual as possible, leaned against the side of apple wagon with  a forced grin. 

"'Course I am, Ma. Jus' tripped over a root is all." 

"Oh, good." The mare tossed her son a smile and approached his wagon. When she saw the thing was half full, she frowned and gazed at the teenager. "Did ya lose apples when you tripped?" 

"Oh, well..." The colt rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "K-kinda.... It really wasn't much, though." 

His mother, of course, wouldn't leave it at "It really wasn't that much". She felt the need to look around the area of the wagon for stray fruits. She only saw but a few, which made her feel a little reassured. 

"That all you dropped?" 

To that, Braeburn didn't know exactly how to respond. He didn't want his mother to know how much he really dropped, considering the fact he may get lectured. At the same time, however, he was always taught honestly is the best policy. He knew his mother would appreciate it if he told her the truth, but he also knew she'd appreciate it more if she thought her fruit was safe. After taking a short moment to weigh his options, Braeburn made his decision hastily.

"Ah, uhh.... Well, a few tumbled down the hill, too." He replied as casually as possible.  With that said, his mother turned and looked down the hillside closest to where Braeburn tripped. At the bottom of the hill, a large group of apples huddled together. There must have been at least thirty red delicious beauties, which made the mare gasp in shock. 

"A few?!" Apple Blossom's voice crescendoed in frustration at her offspring. "Is that really a few to you? Do ya jus' not care that much?" It was then. the mare took in a breath, realizing calling him careless was a bit much for the situation. Her son had shrunken back in fear from her change of tone, so she decided to start off again in a much calmer fashion. "Listen Brae..." she said with a dramatically softer tone. "I know you work hard 'n' all, but ya have to be more careful. We can't afford to lose any more crops than we already have 'cause a different accidents. Most of them you caused. You know how big of a pain it is." 

"It wasn't that much, Ma..." he argued dismissively. 

"Sure it was. You just don't understand how much it really is 'cause you're young. You really need to start ta learn the value of small things." The mare frowned and made her way to the harness of the wagon. She latched it on to herself an started walking with the light load. Braeburn took in a breath to speak up, but she quickly interrupted him. "Ah'm gonna go put these apple's wit the rest of 'em. You go inside and eat or whatever. I'll clean up the mess you made in a bit." 

"You don' have to do that!" Braeburn argued rather aggressively. "I made the mess, I'll clean it up."

"No. You just go back inside. Ya've worked hard enough for the day." 

Braeburn's face went blank in confusion at his mother's command. She always volunteered to fix others mistakes in the most aggressive manner possible. It was a tone that could make anypony feel guilty, and was definitely something Braeburn hated to hear. Not wanting to get into an argument, however, the teenager sighed started off towards home. 

"Okay, Ma." He agreed quietly. As his mother went to the shed near the back of the house, Braeburn headed inside with his head hanging low. He felt insulted by the way his mother spoke to him, and upset at himself for letting her take so much control. He wanted to go back into the orchard and pick up his mess before his mom had the chance to, but he could already see that causing problems. 

As Braeburn entered his house, he was hit by the scent of dinner cooking. It smelt like fried vegetables and apple treats baking. The sound of his siblings and father chatting away and laughing penetrated his ears. They were all at the kitchen table, which was very close to the colt the moment he walked in. The door closed behind him, which caught the attention of his sister. 

Honeycrisp -Braeburn's only sister- was one of the colt's favorite siblings. Not only was she one of the oldest, but she was also quite pretty. She had apple green eyes like her brother, and a soft yellow coat. Her mane, which was a blend of red and red-orange, was kept tightly in braids and hung down to her chest. She also wore a soft, red ribbon around her neck and a brown cowpony hat atop her head. She was by far the friendliest pony in the family. 

"Hey Braeburn!" the young filly called her brother from the kitchen table, waving him down. "Y'alright? I saw ya take quite the fall back there." 

The colt tossed his sister a friendly grin and nodded. 

"Ah'm fine. Jus' tripped over a branch or somethin'." 

"Oh. As long as you're okay." Honeycrisp paused. "We're havin' fried veggie salad for dinner in a bit." 

"Oh, that's cool..." the colt returned the grin before turning away and looking at the stares. "I have to go for a few minutes. I'll be back soon." 

Honeycrisp responded with a nod, which gave Braeburn the okay to go upstairs and lock himself away for a bit. None of his other siblings said anything. Being the youngest in the family, he often times had a difficult time socializing with the others, and they seldom made conversation with him. He was used to it.

Trying to put the day behind him, Braeburn climbed up the wooden staircase, trotted down the hall, and to his room in the very back. When he entered it, it was left the same way it'd been that morning; messy and unkept. He let out a long sigh as he gazed at the surroundings. His bed was tossed around the floor from waking up that morning. His dresser was a mess of orange mane, odd and end pieces of clothing, and pieces of trash. His floor was a mess, decorated in little parts of his day and days past. 

Taking in a breath, the young colt made his way to his bed. He frowned as he plopped backwards onto the soft surface. The instant he made contact with firm mattress, his entire body ached severely. The teenager let out a moan and repositioned his legs, trying to get comfortable in the odd spot. More than anything at that point, he just wanted to get comfortable to take a nap. His mind, however, was too active, thinking about every detail of the recent events. 

I don't know... It just seems like it isn't worth it anymore. I mean, Ma seldom thanks me for pitching in overtime... Heck, Pa even says I should be doing it 'cause I'm weaker than the rest of my siblings.... Like, I'm not that bad! I get just as much work done, I just don't have the strength to do it as quickly... Braeburn frowned and gazed down at his burning legs. They were so much skinnier and weaker than the rest of his family's. He wished they'd strengthen up one of those days. It seemed like no matter how hard he pushed himself, they just stayed flimsy and weak. Maybe when I finally hit puberty I'll be stronger... I mean, most fifteen year-old colts already developed and everything... Why do I have to be so darn late...? Ma always tells me it's in our genes and whatnot, but it still sucks... Maybe since everypony's such a late bloomer, they should at least give me some slack... Honeycrisp's the only one that understands, but she's a girl! Fillies aren't held to the same expectations as us... They wouldn't understand...  Braeburn turned on his side. His eyes met with his brother's bed and dresser, along with a large wall containing a clock, several family photos, along with many individual pictures of family members. Most, Braeburn hardly ever knew. He gazed at it for a moment, before taking in a breath and sighing. I don't know... I love my family... I just don't all the responsibilities it takes to be an Apple. 

It was then, Braeburn's ear twitched at the sound of a door opening  behind him. He hesitantly turned back around onto his opposite side, only to meet eyes with his oldest brother, Cortland. He was the pride of the family, and was one of the toughest Apples in that orchard. He was given the hardest tasks, and had a very athletic build. His coat was a soft orange, while his mane was a deep shade of red. His eyes, like most of his family's, were green. On his head, he wore a cowpony hat. 

"Dinner's done," he announced with a smile. "Better get down 'ere before there's nothin' left." 

"Ah will..." Braeburn forced a smile towards his brother. "I'm just kinda worn out at the moment..."

"I understand." Cortland smiled as he kicked his hoof back in a bucking motion. "Been buckin' all day. Got sixteen full wagons a' apples in." he chuckled, while Braeburn internally frowned at the rather large amount. "Don't worry 'bout it. You'll get there someday..." he reassured his younger sibling. 

"Yeah..." Braeburn chuckled. "Hey, umm... Can Ah ask ya somethin'?" 

"Go for it." 

"Do ya think.... Do you... Did you, when you were my age, did ya ever think it was too much work?" 

To that, Cortland simply cocked his head and gave Braeburn a confused stare.

"What do ya mean?" 

"Well, Ah mean... Like, do you ever feel too overworked or somethin'? Like, you're too tired to even walk, but ya still got tons to do?" 

Cortland thought for a moment. He hadn't actually thought he'd been overworked, and even putting himself into Braeburn's hooves, didn't quite get where he was coming from. 

"Braeburn, Ah... Ah don't really know what to say. I don't honestly think it's too much work, and I mean, my body's always been able ta handle it... I think you jus' need to toughen out a bit... I mean, we all have to work, and with you bringing in the least amount of crop, it jus' seems like..." The colt cut himself off. "I don't know... Just wash up and get ready to eat... We'll be waitin'." 

Before Braeburn could even think of a response. his brother trotted out from the doorframe and into the hall, leaving his brother with nothing but thoughts.

I don't know... I mean, I like apples, they're a great fruit and all, but... I just don't know if it's worth it... Do I really wanna be bucking apples until I die..? What if there's something I'm happier doing in life... Something that doesn't involve working in harsh conditions for hours on end? With a frown, the stallion looked down at his legs again. This time, he payed special attention to his cutie marks; a single apple, red and ripe with a stem coming out. He thought for a moment, before taking in a breath. Maybe I just wasn't made to be a farmer... Maybe there's something else I can do involving apples. Maybe, somewhere out there, there's an orchard that doesn't require you to work so hard. Or one that takes good length breaks between cooking and harvesting and chores and all. Maybe there's someplace out there for me, that's just a bit greener than where I am now...