//------------------------------// // Epilogue: Onto Life's Road // Story: At the Gorge // by Jordan179 //------------------------------// it was more than six weeks since Applejack's parents had died, and since she had come all the way back from wherever her soul had been wandering. Her kin had watched with happy approval at the speed with which she had recovered from her depression. She was still sad, of course -- she would still be sad about the death of her parents until the day she herself died, they knew, when she thought on it -- but she was no longer paralyzed by grief, and that was really the best they could hope for. She was now clearly sane. Which was why, when one day she sat down at the dinner table and solemnly, seriously told her grandparents and brother that she had decided to visit her Orange kin in Manehattan, they took her quite seriously, and did not attempt to oppose her on the grounds of her age. At twelve, Applejack already had a fundamental maturity and responsibility about her that most Ponies would not have at twenty-two: this aspect of her character had strengthened considerably since her loss. In the past month and a half of her life, she had grown up rapidly. There were families that would have refused to let her leave anyway. They would have feared the corruptions that might come to a filly on the edge of marehood, out alone in the big wide world. But her grand-parents knew that Applejack had common sense and grit, and a firm moral character. She would not do anything stupid, nor bad, and in Equestria in that era, there were few Ponies who would be evil enough to physically assault a filly on the road. Greenie and Blackie, who had fought monsters when they were Applejack's present age, did not consider the perils of a trip to Manehattan to visit relatives to be all that truly terrible. They had been born in the last century, and the soft over-protectiveness that would grow in Equestria in the next century, in the Second Age of Wonders, was entirely alien to their character. They were if anything pleasantly surprised when Applejack announced her intention to make the journey by road. "This is mah idea," she told her grand-parents, "and Ah'm robbing you of help on the farm, which is the part Ah feel bad about. Ah shouldn't ask you to pay mah way by railroad as well. That'd be just takin' advantage of you." "Ah don't really mind so much," said Blackie, looking fondly at his grand-daughter. "You sure you want to walk?" "Aw," said Greenie, "it ain't no great trek to Manehattan, no more'n three hunnert twenty leagues or so. In good weather, t'aint no more'n month's walk for a healthy filly like her. Why, when Ah was a Pilgrim-Pony, Ah used to walk at least twice that far every season save winter, when we'd make a long camp." "What about food?" asked Big Mac, worried about his little sister. "Ah'll give her some vittles to start with," Greenie said, "dried cheese and hardtack, stuff that'll keep on the road, and Jackie -- ?" "Yes, Granny?" "-- Yew should be able to do chores for yore dinner at inns and farms and the like. Jest be careful -- if the Ponies look seedy, find someplace else. And make sure that other Ponies have some idea who you are and where yore goin', and that yore an Apple and have kin who'll come lookin' for you. Yew should be mostly safe." "Yes, Granny," replied Applejack. Against her protests, each member of the family chipped in some money as well, wadded in with washcloths and put down deep in her saddlebags. "Now don't go flashing that around," Blackie said, "jest take out one or two in advance when yew need to buy something, and do it where nopony can see what yore doing, best to do it at the start of yore day. Most Ponies are good, even the rough ones yew might meet on the road, but there's no sense providin' temptation to those who might be thinking about doing bad, if'n yew get mah drift." "Yes, Grampa," replied Applejack. "An' don't buy no fripperies, with that," said Greenie. "That's fer vittles." "Yes, Granny," replied Applejack, nodding. "Ah know better'n that." "Course you do," said Greenie, smiling at her. "Yore a good girl, and a smart girl." Blackie was feeling poorly that morning, so he stayed inside the farmhouse to watch little Bloomie, who was just at an age when she was toddling around energetically attempting to find ways of destroying herself. Greenie and Mackie saw her off at the gates of Sweet Apple Acres. Greenie looked proudly at her grand-daughter setting out into the wide world on her first big journey; Mackie mostly just looked sad, and a bit worried. Jackie looked back at the farm as she reached the first turn in the road. She could see Greenie and Mackie, leaning against one another for comfort. She knew she was causing them some grief by leaving like this, and she felt bad about it, but she knew she had to tell her Aunt and Uncle Orange how their kinsponies had died -- that they had been heroes -- and find out for herself what the big city was like. She sensed, somehow, that she had a bigger destiny than Sweet Apple Acres -- she'd had a dream in which somepony with a pair of glowing golden eyes had told her this -- and that she had to reach out for it. She hoped that she wouldn't have to leave the farm behind forever, but she greatly feared that this might indeed be the case. Her best friend, Landscape Carrot, wasn't there to see her off. He'd be at his own farm. They'd already said their goodbyes, in the treehouse that Blackie and Mackie had built for them years ago, the place where she and all her friends had so often met to play together. Landscape bothered her sometimes. He was still the bestest best friend she'd ever had -- somepony who always wanted to take her exploring, whether the woods and hills, or the worlds of other times and places in books; gentle and caring and courageous and funny. Yet sometimes she felt uncertain around him, as if something was changing, shifting the ground on which they stood together. She hoped they'd always be friends. She didn't want to be tied to him, but she didn't want to lose his friendship forever. At their last meeting, they had promised to write one another, and they had hugged goodbye -- a long, intensely-emotional hug that, halfway through, had started to feel a bit strange. Not bad -- it was always good to hug Landscape -- but strange. Kind of like she was on her Cycle, though she wasn't. Irritable? No, that wasn't the word for it. She had no words for it, save ones that certainly didn't apply to her, because she wasn't into mushy stuff like that. But she knew that she was glad of Landscape's friendship. He had been a great comfort to her, in the weeks after she had once again wakened to the world of Life. She was now passing the Carrot Garden, the farm of Landscape's family, and she looked toward the farm-house, hoping that she might see Landscape. But he was not there, though she could see his younger sister Golden Harvest working in one of the front fields. Golden Harvest, also known as Carrot-Top, was also one of her friends. "Hi, Carrot-Top!" Applejack called out to her. "Ah'm leaving for Manehattan!" Carrot-Top walked over slowly toward her. "Ah know that," she said. "'Scape told me. He's sad you're leaving." "Ah'm sad to be leaving too," Applejack admitted. "But also happy! Ah want to see the big city, and it's been a long time since Ah've seen mah Orange cousins. This is going to be a great adventure!" "Well, Ah hope you have a good time," said Carrot-Top. She looked a bit sad herself, ears slightly drooping. Then she smiled slightly. "Good luck!" "Good luck to you too," replied Applejack, and hugged the younger filly. Then they parted, and she was back on the road. She was round the curve of the road from the gates to the Carrot Garden, when she heard a familiar voice. "Hi, Jackie." She turned to see the familiar light-yellow face of Landscape Carrot, topped by his two-toned green mane. Gentle, dark green eyes looked into her own. "'Scape!" she cried with delight, and smiled. "Are you here to see me off too?" He shuffled and looked embarrassed. "Yes," he said. "Maybe a little bit. Um, Ah made up a little package for you, for the road. Some biscuits, a little jelly, and -- well, a little letter I wrote which you can read later on, at the bottom." He handed her a small cloth bag. "Why, Landscape, you didn't need to do all that!" "Not that hard," he said. "Oh, and Ah drew you a map. Ah did a little research on the route, the safest roads, the best towns to stay at. That's in some papers next to the map." "Why, thank you!" said Applejack, and she really meant it, too. Landscape was good at maps. His map would probably be of considerable help to her. She put the little bag into her larger one. "You're welcome," said Landscape. "Well -- Ah guess this is it. Ah won't be seeing you for months after this -- if you come back." "Oh, 'Scape!" she replied. "Ah --" She fell silent. Another filly might have told Landscape 'don't fret, of course I'm coming back,' but the truth was that Applejack wasn't exactly sure if, or when she was coming back. And Applejack hated to lie -- especially to a best friend. He opened his own mouth as if he were going to say something, raised a hoof and stretched it toward her -- and, suddenly, they were hugging, holding each other in their forelegs, clinging to each other as if they never wanted to let go. They pressed their cheeks, the sides of their necks together. They said nothing -- neither of them knew exactly what to say, at a moment like this. She felt a strong, inchoate desire, and wondered if he felt it as well. Then they released one another, still touching gently. "Ah'll be seeing you, Applejack," said Landscape. "Yore mah friend. Ah'm never going to forget you -- no matter what." "Same here, Landscape," said Applejack. "Ah'll be seein' you -- friend." And then they broke apart, and Applejack trotted off down the road, moving rapidly, because she feared that if she did not the accumulated force of her family and her best friend would pull her back, and that would be shameful failure. So the twelve-year-old Applejack left Sweet Apple Acres and Ponyville behind, and set off on the road to Manehattan, and to discover her destiny. And if a pair of glowing golden eyes watched her, from some grove of trees well-protected from the Sun, Applejack did not notice.