//------------------------------//
// 23: Rise of Harmony / Winter’s End 
// Story: Diary of the Dead 
// by AppleTank 
//------------------------------//

Thunk

Draaaag

The Apple stallion heaved the plow across the underground farm of Plan P. The Apple family was, almost fittingly, the last holdouts of the once bustling town of Appleton. 90% of the rest of the population moved out for cities that were slightly further away from the cold. The Apples decided to dig in like the stubborn foals they were, and seemed to not actually mind the creepy undead folks living in their backyard.

Now, an entire generation had passed. Foals grew up knowing the strange undead folk their entire lives, becoming more akin to family, uncles and aunts, than the dark-magic-stained unknowns of two generations past. The Eternal Winter forced the residents to work ever closer to their undead neighbors to survive the frozen farms and lost trade.

With Evens found, I put all of my focus on working with the residents of Appleton and experimenting with my Mark’s magic. I was finishing my last rounds, carting around and distributing a small mound of fertilizer, and digging up tired soil to be refreshed. 

I nodded to the stallion as I passed, scraping fertilizer into the trenches he dug. With that done, I returned the cart to the communal shed, and covered the fertilizer with a tarp. I grabbed another bag to fill in the soil, I’ll be working on that later on the week.

I went back to my corner of the lab, stacked with notebooks and loose parchment. The centerpiece was dominated by a half-drawn spell circle, the unifying catalyst incomplete. If I just pushed my magic out mindlessly, the spell almost completes on its own. But if I tried to focus on the shape, I seemed to lose my concentration, everytime. I only got so far through trying to activate different components of the spell, remembering different chunks before they slipped through my hooves.

There was very little access to knowledge of pony specific magic from where and when I was, Twilight. No one here could remotely claim to be an expert, let alone an amateur. I had to rediscover everything almost entirely on my own. The fact that there were probably several schools carrying this knowledge, but were impossible for us to access at the moment, irked me, since it was likely I would miss more things than not. 

All I had to base my foundations on were the necromantic studies from necromantic cults and basic weather manipulations from beginner griffon scrolls. 

I grumbled at the sound of gongs echoing across the building. Might as well, I doubted much progress would be made tonight. I listened to the pattern. No urgency, but it would definitely be good to investigate.

I was met with other ponies leaving through the stairs. Dimitri had no answers. “Aga-- Trestine had something she wanted to show us all. She only told me to set the announcement call, I am as much in the dark as you are.”

In half an hour, the entirety of the tiny population congregated in a field just outside the town borders. Trestine herself perched on a tree stump, grinning widely at an hourglass at her feet. She wore a steel collar on her neck, and black bands on her forearms. The mists of evaporating magic was greatly reduced, though she did seem to more a bit more sluggishly.

“Hey, Cycle!”

I turned to see Evens trotting up from behind me, Gladas close behind. They were working together more often, a project Gladas had started on and requested his assistance. “What’s happening?” he asked.

I shook my head. “I don’t think anyone knows except Trestine, something to do after the sand flowing in the timer stops.”

Everyone’s attention was diverted when Trestine started clapping her talons. “Welcome fillies, gentlecolts, and you foggy lot back there. Welcome to a once in a lifetime event! Well, for most of you, anyways. First off, a reminder to all to stop using the name Agatha, and use Trestine instead. I got a new face to use now, finally, and would like to keep this one off the bounty papers back where I came from. Considering the reputation I left behind, I wouldn’t be surprised if they kept it active for another century more.

“Now, the show! As you all can see, I have a sand timer running, timed to end at the start of the event. For most of you, this signals the end of a generational nightmare, and the beginning of recovery. For those of you who so graciously continue to welcome me into their group, I thank you for trusting me to lead us this far, despite my own inexperienced and personal foibles.” Trestine bowed towards us at the back. “This event will instead serve as a milestone to our little quest of survival.”

This started confused chatter amongst the ponies. The Honeycombers looked at each other for a moment, before a dawn of understanding passed through us. 

Gladas sighed. “A bit over dramatic of her, though considering the new excitability quirks of her, I shouldn’t be too surprised.”

“I see you got it.” Evens leaned over to me. “I’m still a bit lost.”

I huffed in slight amusement at Trestine’s theatrics. “Oh, its just something that you haven’t seen since your teens, I think.”

Evens frowned, then his eyes widened, and snapped his gaze to the last few grains falling in the hourglass.

Trestine reared up, wings spread, eagerly pointing at the clouds. A pulse of magic rippled through the clouds, fluttering coats and knocking snow to the ground. Ripples spread out from miles away. Faint rings, then gaps formed in the clouds.

The first rays of sunlight hit the ground for the first time in over half a century.





The entire town was lit with streamers and lanterns, and gripped in the fire of celebration that had lasted all the way into the night. Gladas smiled slightly as a filly came over to hug her forearm, and handed her a candied apple slice. “Off you go, Winter Apple. Have fun with your friends.”

Trestine sauntered over, passing by the trotting filly with a bucket on her head and a mug of fizzy ale in talon. “Why aren’t ya joining in the festivities?”

Gladas gestured to a flower crown on her head. “I did. I don’t exactly have that boundless energy your new body has.”

“I know, isn’t it great?” Trestine took a deep draw from the mug, moving to lean by the building next to Gladas. “Personal opinion? Living is pretty great. Arthritis super sucks, don’t get it.”

Gladas snorted. “Indeed.”

A moment of silence passed between them, as they watched the celebrations. Gladas sighed. “Well, you got us this far. I’ll still work with you, as promised. Doesn’t mean I trust you though.”

“Obviously,” Trestine said, waving her mug. “I’d be concerned if you weren’t. Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s an instrument over there calling my name.”

Gladas watched the Seer step onto the stage, pulling out cello from some storage behind the curtains to a roaring cloud. She lazily twirled a dagger between her claws, then holstered it.