• Published 7th May 2012
  • 3,887 Views, 80 Comments

Draw - TheVulpineHero1



A collection of shortfics using tarot cards as prompts. Assorted characters and pairings.

  • ...
0
 80
 3,887

King Of Wands

King Of Wands

A/N: The Court cards in Tarot generally refer to characters. There are 16 of them. 3/4s of those refer to male characters. You can see the problem. So, court cards wil just be their own little plot arc, disconnected with the meaning of the cards. Sorry about that, folks.


In the depths of the night, when everypony was sleeping quietly and a sea of clouds drifted over the calm face of the mareless moon, Applejack was awoken by the deep, bass echo of something crashing in the farmyard.

Sweet Apple Acres wasn't a place where crashes happened. Few things they owned made crash-worthy noises. Apples didn't make a crash. Trees didn't make a crash. Apple carts didn't make a crash, provided Applebloom could be kept at least ten feet away from them at all times. And as her little sister was currently snoring loud enough for all Equestria, the chances of her upsetting an apple cart were slim to none.

In short, they had a thief.

A cold tingle running the length of her spine, Applejack went to rouse Big Macintosh, only to find him already awake and alert, an uncharacteristically stern expression on his face. His mane was a ridiculous web of gnarls and tangles, as was hers, most likely, but there were other things to worry about. In silence, they looked at each other and agreed: there was a thief on their farm, although not for long if they had anything to say about it.

From the house they crept, and into the cool night air. Big Mac quietly secured the door, the locks slipping soundless into place. There was no way he was letting a thief anywhere near Applebloom, or Applebloom near a thief, for that matter. Applejack followed, her lariat clenched between her teeth, ready for her to use at a moment's notice. She was surprised to find that she was trembling.

In truth, she was more angry than scared. The orchard, with its wide, rolling hills and its palette of myriad reds, greens and browns, was the sanctuary that she and her family and her family's family had helped build. To have it desecrated, invaded by some no-good apple thief, was more than she could stand. But if Big Mac was angry, it didn't show; his features were carefully blank, blunted by the night.

The night itself was a picture of blackness. No stars studded the night sky, and the moon still hid shyly beyond the clouds. The darkness was almost tangible, tar-like and sticky, coating everything in a thick veil. Each sound seemed magnified a hundredfold, mere whispers turning into hurricane hows, and the shuffling of hooves across the dusty farmyard into the roar of the ocean. Big Mac tossed his head next to her, a signal; she was to be ready with her lariat. Then, slowly, cautiously, he began to creep through the yard, inspecting every hay bale, pitchfork and bucket. His progress was agonisingly slow, but there was a certain inevitability about his motions. No matter what was there, he would walk towards it unflinchingly, and never falter a single step.

After a minute, Applejack became aware of something. The sound of Big Mac's steps didn't quite match the motion. It was very, very close, but the noise of hooves persisted just half a second after every step. Her blood froze in her veins. The thief was out there, moving, and knew they were there, too.

Her brother seemed unaware of the development, and if she raised her voice to warn him, the thief would be sure to flee. But what if the thief wasn't sneaking away? What if the thief were sneaking towards them, to eliminate the witnesses? For a moment, she wrestled with the dilemma, but in the end it was hardly a choice. It wasn't worth risking their safety to catch one little thief. She took a deep breath, ready to shout to her brother.

But before she set up the cry, she noticed something- a patch of black that was just a bit blacker than the rest, one that was moving stealthily towards the exit. Almost imperceptible, it was so close to her that it was laughable. Carefully, oh so carefully, she readied her lariat. A second to aim, and then-
With a deft flick, she set the rope soaring, the leather whistling ominously at it shot through the air. Jerking sharply as it fell, she pulled the rope taut, and felt it- glorious tension as the rope bound itself around flesh.

“...!”

Whoever or whatever it was, it began to struggle ferociously against the rope. Of all the moves to have made, this was possibly the most foolish, because the motion attracted the attention of Big Mac. Discarding his glacial speed, he set up a gallop through the blackness, hooves thundering across the dusty yard. The struggles increased as the felon grew frantic, and Applejack dug her hooves into the mud to keep from being pulled off her feet. And then, with a surreal suddeness, the struggles stopped, and a tiny pinprick of white light appeared in the gloom. Quickly it built, becoming a cone of coronal brilliance, illuminating a cloak, a mantle, drawn tightly around a ponylike form, and then there was a soft, gentle whoosh-

And Applejack's lariat closed tightly around empty space.

All but growling in frustration, she threw her hat to the ground with a jerk of her head. Wisely, she refused the urge to stomp on it.

“Dang-nabbit! Looks like our rustler was a unicorn!” she spat bitterly.

“Eyup,” Big Mac replied. “Now, AJ, don't you worry none. You done mighty fine work tonight.”

“Ah guess. I almost had 'em! Now we gots to wait for sun up and figure out what they took,” she said sadly, her head bowed. The weight of failure pressed heavily upon her.

“Eyup. Just because we got us a thief doesn't mean we need to lose out on shuteye. We're sure to have a big day tomorrow,” Big Mac said calmly, beginning to walk back to the house. For a moment, she could feel his warmth through air the colour of india ink. But the moment passed, and she followed him morosely to the house, certain that she'd never get to sleep.


“Gosh darn it! I plumb can't find what they took! What kind of rotten, no-good apple thief comes to a farm and then doesn't steal any apples?” she huffed, scanning the trees.

“Maybe, if he's a rotten, no-good apple thief, he took all the rotten, no-good apples? Ah'll go check the trees on the worst soil,” Applebloom suggested innocently, then took off. In the light of day, the farm looked no different than it normally did; there was no evidence of the events the night before.

“AJ, lookee here,” Bic Mac said, strolling over. “I think I done found what they took.”

“Really? Lessee what the damage comes out to,” she said, and gritted her teeth.

He led her (a little too leisurely, she thought) to their very best stand of trees. The soil was springy and full of life, and the air was some of the freshest for miles around. As she looked through the stand, she couldn't see anything different- the same apples with their subtle blends of greens and reds, the same trunks with their sturdy, rugged wood. And then, she saw it.

“What in tarnation...?” she asked the sky and soil, her jaw hanging open.

One of the trees on the edge of the strand had been stripped. Not just of apples, but of leaves and of branches. All that was left was a naked trunk of gnarled wood, oddly vulnerable to the elements without the flourishing greenery to protect it. It would almost certainly die, if it hadn't already. There was a great loneliness about it, a sadness she couldn't define.

“Bro? Who could've done this?” she asked. He didn't answer. Instead, he took something carefully out of his saddlebag.

“Whoever owns the other half of this,” he said, his voice muffled by the carved wooden mask he held in his teeth. It had a contorted grin, too wide and too thin. She looked at it with cold disgust.

“I don't know who did this, or what they're plannin', but somepony's gonna pay for this!” she snarled.

In a sky dyed cerulean blue, the sun shone down with neither sympathy nor pity. A chill wind blew through the trees as Applejack took the mask from her brother, and walked slowly away.