//------------------------------// // All The Bitter Remains // Story: All The Bitter Remains // by Arcelia //------------------------------// All the Bitter Remains by Arcelia The sun slowly receded beyond the red-washed crimson sky, the autumn plains stretching on for miles as the golden wheat grass waved in the afternoon wind. Nearby, hanging from an old, reliable oak tree branch, was a worn rubber tire swing. It hung there, blowing gently and silently in the wind as the rope attached to it held it even after years of weather and wear. Not too far from the swing was Sweet Apple Acres, a lonesome and desolate place; all that survived of the tired bitterness of the farm was the cherished memories of the ponies who had lived there. Only one young pony still remained, one pony who still continued to return to the farm even after the place had been cleaned out years ago. As Applebloom steadily made her way up the steep hill, she began to think about all those blissful summer afternoons she and her friends had spent up here, swinging away until the sunset. Frolicking in the wheat grass and laughing until the sun went down, while Applejack would always come and call them when it was time to go home.  The loud, acute tone of the triangle was so resounding it could be heard in the furthest corners of the farm, only to be followed by the voice of Applejack, as she called out their names. They would scurry quickly inside, knowing that without a quick pace their dinners would go cold. Unfortunately, those carefree days of adolescence were over. She was now a fully grown mare at her peak of marehood, and just about ready to settle down and possibly have kids. Yet the thought of children had not crossed her mind, her time being solely devoted to her work. A work to which she dedicated her heart and soul, embracing every second and minute. Finally, she had reached the top of the hill. The climb took a lot longer than she remembered—Then again, she didn’t have the nimble little legs that she used to, but with old age, comes the deterioration of one’s once prime muscle tone. As Applebloom looked around nostalgically, a shiny object caught her eyes. It was Scootaloo’s much loved scooter, lying in the grass next to the swing; all the places they had gone, all the adventures they had were all tied to those rusted metal arms and rigid wheels.  She then glanced over to the tree, not a single fibre of life remained in the wilted oak that slumped over on the hill, except for that of the faint, cheerful cries of children that echoed even after the long, slow decay of the farm. Applebloom made her way forward, before she sat herself in the rubber tire, dragging her rear-hooves slowly through the soft, overgrown wheat grass. The tips of the blades tickling at her hooves. She proceeded to watch as the last flickering rays of golden light disappeared beyond the horizon, the faint glow of the sun making its departure. Yet, she continued to sit there. Even as Applebloom watched the sky turn from the warm, vibrant colours of day to the soft pastels of night. Dusk descended upon her as she closed her eyes, feeling the cool night breeze flow through her fur before rolling off into the ocean. The sky continued its slow transition into night, a dark, somber blue setting the stage for the show of stars that began to light up the sky. Each orb of light glimmered and shone in synchronization, their symphony well rehearsed. As Applebloom stared up at the stars, she thought about all the summer nights she and her sister had spent slumbering under them. Oh, how they would stay up and marvel at the universe, chatting over hot cocoa, and not falling asleep until somepony sung a lullaby. Those spirited nights of laughter and stories warmed the mare’s heart as she sat there, gazing up at the stars. Somewhere off in the distance, crickets chirped their familiar calls, and serenity hung over her as she closed her eyes, allowing herself to be fully immersed in the tranquility that surrounded her.  After what felt like only a few minutes, but felt like a few hours Applebloom was abruptly interrupted by a noise from right behind her. “I thought I might find ya up here,” spoke a familiar voice. Registering the voice, Applebloom opened her eyes and turned to the pony standing behind her, an old, familiar face smiling back at her. The kindness in her eyes hadn't faded despite the wrinkles that had begun to form on her forehead, as usual, along with her mane an uncouth mess and her hooves permanently splintered and stained from years of work at the farm. “Sorry Applejack, I guess I just wanted to come visit from time to time.” She then let out a sigh. “I sure do miss the good old days, ya know?” she proceeded to ask, wondering how long she had been daydreaming for. “I mean, I really wish we hadn’t sold the farm when we did.” The older mare placed a comforting hoof on her sister’s shoulder; she knew very well the pain of being nostalgic for one’s childhood, and that visiting the place of such joyous times can be quite a challenging experience. Sweet Apple Acres wasn’t the vibrant and lively place it used to be: the barn was in a state of decay, the family home was boarded up and abandoned, and even the trees had all withered away. “I understand your pain Applebloom, and it’s okay to be sad sometimes. But it’s time ya let go of the past and move on. I mean, sure Sweet Apple Acres will never return to its former glory, but what remains is the memories that we keep close in our hearts. Besides, after I’d taken sick there was no way we were gonna be able to work the fields again, not after that storm that took Big Macintosh.” Applejack gazed at her sister beside her, noticing that her eyes were brimming with tears. “Aww, c'mere sugarcube. It’s gonna be alright,” she said in a soft tone, embracing the younger mare in a hug before scruffing up her mane. “Applejaaack!” Applebloom cried out. The two then stayed in each other’s embrace for a few minutes until  the older sister eventually let Applebloom from her grip, the pair returning their gaze to the night sky. “Do ya ever miss Big Mcintosh? I mean, I know that he’s never coming back and all but sometimes, I really miss him ya know?” “Yes sugarcube, I miss yer big brother too, but it’s about time I got ya home; why don’t we head on over to Rarity’s and enjoy one last supper before ya leave? Ah heard she made her special hazelnut soup jus fer us,” Applejack said as she began to make her way down the steep, grassy hill. But Applebloom remained focused on something far off in the distance. “Appleboom, Ya comin?” her sister asked again. There was a brief moment of silence between them before Applebloom finally responded. “Yeah, I’m coming sis. Just give me a sec,” she replied, not even looking away. “Alright then, just don’t be late to Rarity’s, ya hear? I think she’d be mighty upset if ya came late.” With those words of wisdom the older mare walked off into the night, hoping that Applebloom would at least listen to her big sister for once. Yet for a long while the yellow pony sat in the comfort of the tire swing, listening to the crickets and gazing at the stars. For an even longer time, she reflected on what had transpired in this very spot. All those hazy summer afternoons spent hanging out with her friends were now a thing of the distant past. Yet, as she got up and began to walk away, she almost felt content that she had been able to visit the place where her childhood had been born; the place where she had been raised into the mare she was today. The stars truly did twinkle on that particular summer evening, more so than any before it. It was as though Princess Luna knew she would come visit her home, and decided to put on a spectacular display. With her adolescence behind her, she was sure that she would eventually grow to appreciate the little things a whole lot more. But if Applebloom knew anything to be true, it was that she could always trust in her big sister to make everything alright.