• Published 12th Oct 2014
  • 3,852 Views, 518 Comments

DayBreak - MyHobby



After an attempt is made on Celestia's life, Twilight Sparkle must assemble a team to track down the assassin and bring her to justice. Danger awaits as they delve into the origins of both the attacker and alicorns.

  • ...
12
 518
 3,852

Ponyville

A crystal radio hissed with static in the darkness. A hoof reached out to adjust the frequency, as much as was possible on the homemade device. A voice made itself heard from amidst the white noise.

Prin—una had this—at the pre—onfrence this morning,” a pony with a good radio voice and a better radio face said.

It switched to the unmistakable, bellowing voice of the younger High Princess. “It is with a heavy heart that I l—those ponies to rest. However, their sacrif—as not in vain. I am most rel—ed to report that my sister, Princess C—ia, yet lives.

The scar itched on her cheek. The mare in the dark forced herself not to scratch it, because that would only cause a great amount of pain. She knew the ways of old wounds. She knew the power of poison. She feared poison.

Poison went straight for the heart and shut it down.

Her injuries were heav—ut she heals well,” Luna continued. “Please join me in praying that her r—ery is swifter still. She bids you all a warm gr—ting, and is eager to ret—o her duties in short order.

It was the third time they’d played that clip in the same day. Heavy, yet cheerful. Optimistic. Hopeful.

Either deluded or distorted.

Celestia, the scarred mare knew, was the princess with an outward appearance of happiness and a core of unmovable rock. Luna was the princess with an outward appearance of solemnity and an inner core of certain… childlike qualities.

Luna did not do well playing the part of her older sister.

The mare fiddled with the radio, eliciting only a high-pitched whine. She switched frequencies until she found a station playing slow, soft melodies through the static. A voice like silver bells joined in. A modern opera.

It wasn’t quite the same.

The mare lifted a silver thermos and unscrewed the cap. She used it to measure out a couple millimeters of golden liquid, which she threw down her gullet with a grunt. Ambrosia burned on its way down. The healing properties of the breezie-brewed beverage were astonishing. Unbelievable. Miraculous.

Deadly.

She’d seen the effects of an overdose of ambrosia. She’d seen what happens when a pony ingests too much of a medicine that promotes rapid cellular growth. She’d seen the blood clots, the burst vessels, the fatal strokes.

She’s seen a substance meant to heal become a poison.

She checked beneath the bandages around her chest and wings. The broken bones had set. The burns had been eaten away by the regenerative properties of ambrosia.

Still that accursed scar itched.

It was much the same for Equestria. What was meant to be a healing salve had become a poison, one with the name of Princess. A poison that was respected, honored, loved.

She would fight poison with poison. She would go straight for the heart and, like any good poison, stop it cold.

She shut her eyes, lay down on a ratty cot, and listened to the song.

***

Care Carrot disembarked the train amid a cloud of steam. For a moment, she was back in Manehattan, a mare in a crowd. Awash in a sea of color. Sheltered by a curtain of noisy greetings and heartfelt goodbyes.

Then the noise ended. The crowds dispersed. She was alone. In Ponyville, the bustle only lasted as long as there was something to bustle about.

Care buttoned her red plaid coat up to her neck and picked up her luggage. It rolled along beside her, its handle secure in her orange magic glow. The train station was close by the downtown market, fittingly enough, ready to catch new arrivals’ eyes with shiny knickknacks and fresh food. An apple stand here, a basket weaver there, a bevy of gold bits and silver pieces changing hooves…

And at the end of one particular row, a familiar face. Care pushed through the fairly sparse crowd, leaves crunching under her hooves. The stall’s sign held the picture of three crisp, crunchy carrots, bright orange and lush green. It was copied off of the curly orange-maned proprietor’s cutie mark. Care put a smile on her face and laid her forelegs on the stall’s table. “Hi, Golden Harvest.”

“Welcome to the harvest,” the mare said. “I was just about to close up, but there’s always time for one more customer. What can I get you?”

“I might have to grab some carrots another time.” Care chuckled as she presented her profile to Golden Harvest. “I just wanted to say ‘hay’ to my favorite cousin.”

Golden squinted at the mark that was very much like hers, except that Care’s greens were connected. “Carrot… Care? Is that you? I haven’t seen you since the reunion!”

“The one and only,” Care said. “How’s the Ponyville branch of the Carrot clan, Goldie?”

“We’re absolutely fine!” Golden Harvest swung her hoof. “Good bunch this year. We’ve got a bundle of carrots—and various other vegetables, if you don’t mind me saying—ready to ship. Nowadays I mostly run the stall for fun.”

Silence descended between the two once Golden Harvest finished. She cleared her throat. “So, how are things for the Manhattan Carrots? Your farm was east of the city, right?”

Care pursed her lips. “East of the city is the ocean, actually. We’re a little north.”

“Oh.” Golden scratched the back of her neck. “So how are things… up north?”

“Good?” Carrot scrunched her nose. “I think. I’ve been doing a lot of guard work. Haven’t been home much.”

“Oh.” Golden Harvest’s eyes lit up as she reached for the next conversation topic. “What do you guards think about the whole Celestia assassination thing?”

Care cringed. “I was there.”

“Oh, wow,” Golden said. “What happened? Is the princess alright? I mean, everybody’s heard Princess Luna on the radio, but—”

“I’m really not allowed to talk about it much.” Care shuffled her hooves. “But Celestia’s gonna be just fine. I know she is.”

“Oh.” Golden Harvest ducked beneath her stand and pulled out a couple carrots. “Hay, here’s a little something on me. Cousin to cousin. I gotta close up shop before it gets late.”

Care leaned over the stand and watched Golden gather up her baskets. “Need any help?”

“Nah, nah. I’ve got it.” Golden smiled and waved. “Hay, it was really neat seeing you. Just goes to show that when you’re part of one of the largest earth pony families”—her eyes jumped to Care’s horn, then back down to her baskets—“one of the largest families in Equestria, you’re never really alone.”

Care gave a short sigh through her nose. She lifted the carrots into her luggage. “Yeah. Never alone. Good stuff.”

“You have a good stay in Ponyville, okay?” Golden Harvest called over her shoulder. “Maybe we can run into each other again.”

Care rolled her eyes when Golden wasn’t looking. “Yup. Sounds like a plan. Good luck with the whole ‘carrots’ thing.”

“See yah!”

Care Carrot moved on, her head hanging low. The back of her plaid coat pulled on her tight ponytail, drawing forth a low moan of frustration. She journeyed down another isle, one that led closer to Ponyville’s monolithic crystal castle. After a few paces, she let her mane fall loose.

A passing glassworker’s stand gave her opportunity to glance in a mirror. She arranged her mane so that it flowed over her shoulders. She moved it to one side. She pulled it all back and tucked it under her jacket. She sat down, scowled, and perused the other baubles on display.

“S-see something you like?” a white stallion said. He kept his hooves close together as he walked, as though he was afraid to do anything besides just inch forward. His shoulders were hunched and his head was low. He gave her an almost-smile. “Th-though I’d g-guess not.”

Care gave his shop another glance. Her eyes landed on her ruffled reflection. “Not especially. It’s probably time for a change.”

His pink eyes squinted. He shivered as a chilled wind blew through the market. “Th-that’s been g-going around. Lots of p-ponies want a ch-change, but d-don’t always think ahead of th-the change.”

Care snorted. “I was just talking about a mane cut.”

“Of c-course. Of course y-you were.” He turned to go into his little tent. He started to sort the mirrors and glasswork within. “You can k-keep l—keep looking right until I’m packed to go, j-just in case you find something w-worth keeping. I’ve got to c-catch the five-o’-five to Canterlot.”

Care leaned over to look at him as he worked. His cutie mark was a six-slice color wheel. “You live there or are you just visiting?”

“I t-travel.” He wrapped some bowls in paper and laid them in a box. “Sometimes I s-stay, but m-mostly I travel.”

He held a bleach-white hoof out to her. “Blankety Blank, at y-your service.”

“Nice to meet you,” Care said with a hoof bump. “Care Carrot, at yours.”

He shuffled to the four corners of his tent and pulled up stakes. He saved the mirror in front of her for last, which he eased onto the top of the pile of glasswork. “M-maybe since we’re both travelers, we’ll s-see each other ag-again. Could I c-convince you t-to buy something?”

“Not today, sorry.” Care shrugged. “I’m a little light on cash.”

“Another t-time, then.” He lifted the tent bundle onto his back and rolled his case of glass behind him. “Take c-care, Captain.”

“You too, Blank.” Care tugged at a lock of her mane. Her eyes opened wide as she spun around. “‘Captain?’ I never told him—”

He had vanished. Care took a mental snap-shot of every pony present; none of the features matched even a little. Many ponies carried tent bundles as they closed down shop. Dozens of luggage cases rolled along beside and behind ponies, including her own. Leaves swirled as the wind picked up.

“Okay, nothing odd about that conversation.” She said with a leery smile. “Nothing odd at all.”

***

“Spike!” Twilight’s voice echoed off the crystalline walls. “I need a letter sent!”

She sat on her throne, in her castle. An incredibly bright, eye-searing castle, but it was home. Her friends’ thrones stood like sentinels, joined together in an open circle of friendship. The crystal seat should have been cold in the autumn weather, but it was heated from within by what she supposed were the “fires of friendship” spoken of in the Hearth’s Warming carol.

A cloud of pens surrounded the throne, joined by a cloud of scrolls. Each pen was writing a different report under Twilight Sparkle’s guidance. Legibility was somewhere between first year grade-schoolers and hoof painting. Further practice was obviously required, in the princess’ opinion. “Spike! Hello? Can you hear me?”

The noise of claws on crystal was joined by the clomp of hooves as Spike approached the throne. He was flanked by Captain Care Carrot. He pulled a scroll out of the sack he always held at his side and pulled a feather pen from behind his ear. “Sorry I’m late. Care and I got lost somewhere around the second foyer.”

Twilight blinked. “We only have one foyer.”

“Whatever that other big room is called, then.” He tapped the pen against the paper. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Twilight smiled at Care. “Just a second, please.”

Care nodded and stood at strict attention, which was distinctly offset by her flannel jacket and her loose, turquoise mane.

“Dear Mom,” Twilight Sparkle said, “I really need your help. No, it’s not about money and it’s not boy troubles. You can stop asking me about those.”

Spike coughed into his fist.

“Shut up, Spike. Instead, I need to ask you a question of great importance. Again. Where might I find the author of the Daring Do books? This might mean the life and death of a pony, not to mention the fate of the kingdom. Your help is appreciated. Ex oh, ex oh. With love, Twilight.”

Spike rolled the letter up and burned it. It transformed into a plume of smoke that trailed out the window and towards Canterlot.

Twilight crossed her forelegs. “So, Care, I don’t suppose you have a place to stay here in town?”

Care grimaced. “No, your Highness, I do not.”

“Don’t worry about it. We’ve got a guest room ready for you.” Twilight pulled a scroll up to her face, tried to read her own penmanship, and soon grew cross-eyed. “As a matter of fact, we’ve got tons of guest rooms. Dozens. Gazillions. We’ve got more rooms than I’ll ever know what to do with.”

Care lifted her head to view the high-vaulted ceiling. “Princess Celestia managed,” she said with a grin.

Twilight laughed. “Good. So it’ll only take me a thousand years to get used to this place. Excellent.”

Spike burped a plume of green smoke. Twilight caught the letter that materialized. “Thank you, Spike,” she said. She slit the letter open with a spell and read aloud. “‘Dear Best Princess, let it not be said that Twilight Velvet stood in the way of the fate of Equestria. You can actually find that silly author skulking around the Everfree Forest right about now, searching out some vaguely-mystical butter knife. She’ll be in close proximity to the Palace of the Royal Pony Sisters. Give the princesses my best and smack Yearling around for me. With love, Best Mom.’”

Twilight squinted at the bottom of the page. “‘P.S. Spike, make sure Twilight behaves. Love you, too.’”

Spike polished his claws on his chest scales. “Best mom, indeed.”

Care’s brow furrowed. “So we’re headed to the Everfree?”

I’m headed to the Everfree,” Twilight Sparkle said. “You’re getting settled in. Spike will—”

Care took a step forward. “Hay, I joined up because I wanted to help—”

“You are going to help.” Twilight touched her wingtip to Care’s shoulder. “I’m not going after the assassin right now. Nopony is. I’m just going to grab some information.”

Twilight tilted her horn at Spike. “Why don’t you show her some of the landmarks around town? Help her get acclimated. I’ll be back by evening.”

Spike flexed his arms. “You really should take me with you when you go someplace dangerous. I can help now, you know.”

“I’m not saying you can’t Spike,” Twilight said. “I’m just saying that, like Care, now isn’t the time for those skills. Don’t discount your gentlepony skills.”

Spike shrugged. “I don’t. Be safe.”

“Always.” Twilight nodded at Care before flying off. She exited through a high window, which closed shut after her.

Care moaned deep in her throat. “I’m feeling a little second-rate right now.”

“Welcome to the life of a sidekick.” Spike motioned towards the door. “Shall we?”

***

As the bird flies, it was a quick trip to the Palace of the Royal Pony Sisters. The ruins were aged, decrepit, and cold. There was even less of a castle, nearly a decade later, than there was during Nightmare Moon’s return. Weather, magic, and various other phenomena had occurred, and none of it had done the stonework any favors.

But the Everfree Forest was beautiful. In autumn, it was an explosion of reds and oranges and yellows. Swirling in the wind, drifting to the ground, glowing in the light. It was almost enough to forget what an aberration the untamed land was.

Twilight landed in what was once a recognizable courtyard, and was now little more than a stone floor surrounded by rubble. Digging through that rubble were several ponies, donkeys, and at least one camel. They chanted a steady beat as they worked.

“There’s a treasure buried here
That’s not been seen for long years
We dig for knowledge and for gain
We pray for grants to pay our way

“Chalice used by ancient kings
To catch the blood of pigs with wings
Dream catcher for duchesses’ bed
Or flyswatter for the servant’s head

“There’s a goal that must be found
The one time history comes around
Dynamite blows the blockage up
And bulldozes the china cup”

A griffon, who was drawing a scale map on a spare scroll, looked up at the sound of her wings. He bowed. “Princess Twilight.”

“Hay, Martial. Is Daring around?”

“She’s further into the ruins.” He pointed a talon. “You’re in luck, she’s in a good mood today.”

Twilight let her eyes roll back. “We’ll see how long that lasts. I’m not exactly bringing happy news.”

Martial Paw clicked his beak. “Is it about the Celestia thing?”

“Yeah.” Twilight patted the waterproof saddlebags at her sides. “I’m hoping she can help out.”

Martial Paw went back to drawing his map. “More power to you.”

Twilight crawled over crumbling stone. The core building of the castle was more easily recognizable as such, though only barely. She was thankful again for the foresight to bring the Palace’s library to her own castle. Wet drips echoed in dark crevasses, and the rattle of falling rocks rumbled in the distance.

Twilight turned a corner and entered the old throne room. The walls were bare where restored tapestries had been moved to museums. Scuff marks dug into the floor where heavy furniture had been moved. At the far end of the room, between the thrones, stood a mustard-yellow pegasus mare.

She pulled with all her might against rope attached to a stone slab. The massive thing refused to budge. She slumped to her rump, caught her breath, and started over.

“Need a little help?” Twilight said.

“Don’t need no help!” the pegasus snapped. “I’ve lifted rocks heavier than this thing!”

Twilight brought herself next to the stone, pressed her forelegs and chest against it, and gave it a mighty shove. It slid aside with little resistance. Behind the blockage lay a long, narrow hallway, leading down.

“Okay,” the pegasus said, brushing her grayscale mane out of her eyes. “Okay, you’ve earned your keep, whoever you are.” She lifted her face, then bowed down low. “Oh, uh, your Highness.”

“Get off the floor, you’re embarrassing yourself.” Twilight giggled. “Miss Yearling.”

Daring Do brushed her green shirt off and plopped her pith helmet on her head. “Don’t use my work name, I’m in the field.”

“Then don’t use my work name,” Twilight said. “So, I hear you’re searching for a mystical butter knife.”

“You’ve been talking with your mom.” Daring Do brushed past Twilight and headed down the uncovered hallway. “Twilight’s the best editor I’ve ever had, but darned if she isn’t a pain sometimes.”

Twilight followed close behind her, lighting her horn to cast a purple glow over the two of them. Daring Do kept her voice low. “It’s not a butter knife,” she said. “It was a blade used in sacrifice. Pony sacrifice. The princesses hid it away millennia ago to keep it out of the wrong hands.” Daring raised an eyebrow. “Like Ahuizotl’s.”

“Creepy.” Twilight ducked a cobweb. “And you think you found it?”

“Not really, just a clue about its whereabouts.” Daring Do shook some mud off her feet. “I’m hoping that if anyone’s found it, they just dropped it in a volcano like sensible folks.”

“Chances of that?”

“Pretty much zero.”

“Ahuh.”

Daring Do pushed her helmet back. “Hay, do me a favor. Keep an eye out for quicksand. Some of the foundations of this palace have basically disintegrated.”

Twilight’s hoof squelched in the mud. “Oh.”

Daring Do squinted. “Oh? What’s ‘oh’?”

“Just that the mud is up to my ankles, now.”

Daring Do tossed her mane. “That’s nothing. To get quicksand, you’ve gotta have a real deep puddle of mire. It ain’t quicksand if you can touch bedrock. Now, there was this one time in Zebrabwe—”

With her next step, Daring Do fell into a pool of muck up to her shoulders. Since she had been following close behind, Twilight fell nearly on top of her.

“Don’t struggle!” Daring said. “Just try to float on top. Almost like wading.”

A few bubbles gurbled up out of the mud. Daring sunk deeper. “Oh yeah,” she said. “Everfree dirt. Malevolent Mud.” She sighed as her mouth went under. “Son of a g—”

Twilight’s horn glowed pure white as she teleported herself out of the quagmire. She gripped the tip of Daring Do’s tail in a telekinetic spell and pulled. The pegasus flew out with a wet splurch.

The two mud-covered mares looked at each other for a long moment. Daring seethed. “I should have seen that coming.”

When Twilight didn’t say anything, Daring extended a wing. “Come on, let’s get back to camp. We’ll need a full team to get through this.” She licked the corner of her mouth and spat out dirt. “Say, why’d you come to the dig anyway?”

Twilight walked behind her as they made a much slower trip back up. “I assume you’ve heard about the attack on Celestia?”

Daring’s wings drooped, but she nodded. “Yeah. Just heard on the radio that’s she’s doing fine.”

Twilight looked away. “You know that she’s not really alright, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I was just hoping—” Daring Do sucked in a steadying breath. “What’s it got to do with me, though?”

“The weapons found on the scene. I think you might know what they are.” Twilight said. She opened her saddlebags’ pocket and drew forth a small blade. “Look, but don’t touch. The edge’s almost impossibly keen.”

Daring Do examined it in Twilight’s light. “Classic pegasus design. It dates to Pegasopolis. The design, not the blades, they’re brand new. I’d have to cross-reference, but these might even be in the style of those used in the Elite Squadron, Commander Hurricane’s personal attack dogs.” Daring Do scratched her chin. “It always ticks me off that they cast Pansy as a private in the plays. He was a centurion at the time. Leader of the Elites. Go figure they completely wuss him out just ’cause he was a nice guy.”

Twilight laid a hoof on Daring’s back. “Anything else you can pick up from the blades?”

“Nothing that I can get without a lab and a pile of reference books.” Daring Do scraped the gunk off of her helmet and set it on her grimy head. “But you give me either or both, and I’ll get you what you need. We’ll catch that assassin, you can bet double or nothing.”

“‘We’ll’ catch her, huh?” Twilight said with a chuckle.

“You heard me.” Daring Do’s eyes glinted in the lavender light. “Nothing hurts the princess and gets away with it. Nothing and nopony.”

Once they were out in the open, Daring Do walked up to the griffon cartographer. “Marty, you’re in charge. I’ll be back soonish. Got a personal thing to take care of. National security, you understand.”

“Yes,” Martial Paw said. He gave Twilight a longsuffering smile. “Personal matters of national security are a regular thing around here.”

Twilight giggled. “I’ll take care of her, promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Martial extended his wing in the classic pegasus salutation. “We’ll be here when you get back, I’m assuming.”

Daring Do waved a hoof. “Dunno. Might take a while. Finish up here and compile the info. I’ll get in touch once this thing’s wrapped up.” She snorted at his lowered eyebrows. “Come on, Marty, this is a cakewalk. This is what you guys were trained for. You don’t need me.”

She flicked her tail in the general direction of the castle. “By the way, there’s a new passage I just uncovered. Don’t go in without being ready for some sticky mud that actually wants to eat you. Get Humphrey to dry it out with his freaky camel powers.”

“I resent that,” the camel said.

“Well, then,” Martial said, “I guess we’ll see you when we see you, Doctor Do.”

Daring flashed him a cocky grin. She gave the same smile to Twilight. Alright, princess. Teleport us outta here.”

Twilight stretched her muddy wings. “I figured we could just fly. I know Ponyville and Canterlot like the spirals in my horn, but it still takes me a few minutes to calculate a jump between them. I don’t even wanna think about how long it’d take to bring us out of the ever-changing, always-malicious Everfree.”

Daring Do’s ears flicked back. She marched away from the princess and towards Ponyville. “Okay then. We’ll walk.”

Twilight narrowed her eyes. She rushed after Daring Do. “Hay, what about flying?”

“Th-there’s mud on our wings,” Daring Do said. “We’d have to wash them off. Nowhere to do that around here unless you think getting eaten by piranha plants sounds fun.”

Twilight’s horn sparked, flinging most the mud off of both her and Daring’s wings. “Problem solved.”

Daring scowled. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

She spread her wings and took a short leap into the air. Her neck muscles tightened as she held herself aloft with slow, steady flaps. Sweat trickled down her sides.

Twilight circled around her with easy strokes. “Are you alright?”

“Let’s just get going,” Daring snapped. “We gotta hurry if we wanna get back before nightfall.”

They flew off at sluggish pace. Twilight stayed close to Daring Do, just behind and beneath her, as the adventurer fought to stay in the air.

***

Spike gestured with a hand. “There’s the library”—he indicated a restaurant—“the local Hayburger”—he stopped before an officious building—“and City Hall. And now you’ve seen downtown. Congratulations. What do you think?”

Care lightly ground a hoof into the stone road. “It’s nice.”

“Nice.” Spike shrugged. “What? Nothing original? Nothing deeper than ‘nice’?”

“It’s a nice little town you got here, pardner.” Care shrugged. “What more can I say? It is a nice, small, growing city.” She sat on the steps to Ponyville City Hall. “I’ve always preferred bigger cities, like Manehattan and Canterlot.”

Spike propped his hands on his hips. “Well, sure it’s gonna look like a little town next to city-states like those.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Care said. “I just can’t say it actually moves me or anything.”

Spike tapped his lips. “Huh. Different strokes, I guess. So what do you wanna do now? We could grab a bite at Hayburger before we get you settled at the castle.”

“Now, ain’t no friend of mine gonna eat that trash while ah’m in earshot!”

Care turned at the new voice. She stood and bowed in one swift motion when she found the owner. “Lord Mayor Applejack.”

Applejack untied her cravat as she walked out of City Halls’ front door. She tipped her hat to Spike. “Stand on yer hooves, Care, yah don’t gotta eat dirt fer me.”

Care shook Applejack’s offered hoof. “It’s been a long time, Applejack.”

“Shoot, yeah. Been what, a year?” Applejack grabbed Care’s neck in a sideways hug. “Maybe longer. Seems like forever since the new Sapience thing happened.” She grinned and looked Care right in the eyes. “Good tah hear that Celesta’s still kicking after that attack.”

“Yeah,” Care said with as straight a face as she was able. “She’s doing great.”

“Uh huh.” Applejack let a moment of silence hang in the air. She looked at Spike. “You guys got dinner plans with Twilight?”

“Nope,” Spike said. “She’s away and might not be back tonight.”

“Gotchya.” Applejack motioned for them to follow her. “Then let’s all head down to the acres an’ ah can get yah some good, old-fashioned, homemade vittles. It ain’t right fer yer first taste of Ponyville tah be”—she made a sour face—“Hayburger.”

Care shook her head. “I couldn’t impose—”

“An’ you wouldn’t.” Applejack trotted across the street. “C’mon, Spike, let’s show Care what bein’ an Apple’s all about.”

Spike bared his teeth in a glee-filled grin and skittered off.

“But…” Care hurried after the retreating pony and dragon. “But I’m a Carrot!”

“Ah won’t hold that against yah, none.” Applejack snickered. “Think of it as a’ honorary membership, like Spike here.” She patted his tail. “Not a drop of Apple in his blood, unless yah count the gallons of cider he guzzles every season.”

“Somebody has to keep up appearances when Rainbow Dash is outta town,” he muttered.

It was a quarter of an hour before they crested one last hill on the dirt road to Sweet Apple Acres. There was a red barn, freshly painted, in which a few cows were wrapping up their day’s work. The farmhouse was lit from the ground floor windows as the sun disappeared over the horizon. Apple trees stood with bare branches arching over the road. A few pumpkins had been placed here and there as artistic merit warranted.

Apple Bloom bent over a sawhorse, cutting a length of two-by-four to size. Her mane was wrapped in a tight, red bun, and her vest held a wide variety of tools. The beginnings of a wagon stood a few meters away. She turned her head to greet her sister, but froze, her eyes wide.

“Gol’ darn, AJ! Ah didn’t know yah was invitin’ company over.” She frowned to cover up her pink blush. “Ah didn’ even get a chance tah gussie up.”

Applejack smirked. “Is Big Mac cookin’ the soup?”

Apple Bloom tilted her head. “Yeah?”

“Then yah got plenty of time.” She jerked her head. “Come here, though. Gotta introduce yah.”

She laid a hoof on Care’s back. “This here’s Care of the Royal Guard. Personal guard to Princess Celestia herself, if yah can believe it. This here’s mah lil’ sister Apple Bloom.”

Care looked up at the young mare, who had seemed to inherit whatever family gene gave Big McIntosh his size, as she was nearly as tall as him. “Pleased to meet you.”

Apple Bloom’s tools clinked as she curtsied. “Pleasure to make yer acquaintance, ma’am.” She booped Spike on the nose. “Finally gettin’ some real good eats, huh?”

He crossed his arms. “Hay, I can cook pretty well, if I do say so myself.”

“Yeah, ah still see yah droolin’ every time yah come by.” Apple Bloom grinned for a long moment, then cleared her throat. “Ahem. Anyhow, ah’ll get ready fer supper. See yah guys then.”

She rushed off, pausing only to pick up a dropped hammer.

They entered the farmhouse. Cheerilee smiled as they approached. She held a small baby in her forelegs as she graded a few early-year tests. “Look, Cinnamon, it’s Aunt Applejack! Say hello!”

“Bubba!” the little burgundy filly giggled.

“So that there’s mah sister-in-law, Cheerilee,” Applejack said, “an’ in the kitchen yer gonna see mah big lug of an older brother.”

Cinnamon gasped when she saw Care’s orange coat. “Owngg! Scooroo!”

Spike lifted a hand and let the baby grab at his claw. “No, that’s not Scootaloo, cutie. It’s Care. Can you say Care?”

“Car!” Cinnamon called out. “Upplejock!”

Care and Applejack stood upright. They shared a slow, mystified glance.

“Wow,” Care said, “the more things change…”

***

Cheerilee leaned against the table, her cheeks propped up by her hooves. “So when President Mangle said that all the world leaders were coming…”

“He meant all of them,” Care said. She licked a bit of cucumber off of her lips. “Turns out discovering a new sapient lifeform is a big deal.”

“An’ were they colorful or what?” Applejack shifted on her chair, her hat draped over the back. “We had breezies, zebras, donkeys. Most of them idiots, too.”

“Seabreeze wasn’t so bad.” Care slurped up some broth. “And Shardscale was actually pretty cool.”

“Points to them for not bein’ total ignoramuses,” Applejack conceded.

Apple Bloom had traded her tool vest and bun for a simple ponytail tied with a pink bow. “Who’s Shardscale?”

“The Chronicler of the World,” Spike said. “She’s a dragon. I’ve met her a couple times. She flies around from country to country and records the important events that happen.”

Apple Bloom pursed her lips. “What’s she like?”

“Um, I dunno.” Spike bit deep into a slice of bread, covered in apple butter. “She’s big. Kinda funny. I think she’d describe herself as ‘groovy,’ honestly.”

Big Mac spoke up for the first time since saying “hello” to Care. “That mean she’s flyin’ here tah record the assassination attempt?”

Care chewed on her bottom lip. “I’m not sure how it works. I don’t know if she has to be summoned, or if she’s just flying around randomly, or if she just…” She shrugged. “Knows.

Apple Bloom leaned on her elbow. “How about you, Spike? You gonna be the Chronicler of the World when Shardscale retires?”

“Maybe?” He looked at his bare back. “My wings would have to grow in, first.”

Cheerilee patted her daughter’s head as Cinnamon messily dug into her applesauce. “What brought you to Ponyville, Care?”

Care went through a mental checklist of things she could and could not share. “I’m helping Princess Twilight Sparkle track down the pony responsible for Princess Celestia’s injuries.”

Cheerilee sighed. “I hope you catch them quickly, for all out sakes. Is the princess doing well?”

“Yes.”

The lie slid out easily enough, but the look in Applejack’s eyes said that she caught it.

“Sure as heck,” Applejack said. “Been proven time an’ again that ain’t nothin’ can keep Celestia down fer long. Ain’t that right, Care?”

Care sipped her water. “Sometimes we wonder why she even has guards.”

Author's Note:

In movies, characters may often have a short musical piece that represents them, referred to as a leitmotif. Since books ain't the most musical thing, authors have to make due with recurring phrases or ideas that encapsulate a character. Part of this story for me is going to be exploring what, if anything, I can do with literary motifs.