• Published 11th May 2015
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Myths and Birthrights: Anthologiae - Tundara



Anthology containing stories set in various periods of Ioka from Myths and Birthrights.

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The Apple and the Fox: Part 2

The Apple and the Fox, Part Two
By Tundara



Apple Bloom sat in sullen silence on the old couch in the Apple homestead’s living room. While her features showed regret, inside she was bubbling over with happiness. This joy overflowed on occasion, manifesting as a wide grin followed by a long, bubbling giggle that made her eyes sparkle brighter. Quickly, Apple Bloom hid her happiness, only for it to crack through her forced dour exterior.

Beside her lay a dark blue fox-like spirit, chin resting on folded paws. Four white-tipped, puffy tails, each carrying a different mystical symbol wrapped around Apple Bloom. Sleek, with a long face and bright golden eyes, the edges of her fur seemed to shimmer and fade away, as if she were only partly present on the couch. The kitsune refused to hide her own joy. Long teeth glinted as she smiled down on two foals placed in a playpen at the center of the room.

Little Ambrosia, a toy block in her hooves, glanced up at the pair as a giggle made her honey-gold body sway. Zephyr scooted around the playpen, dragging her diaper and making an odd sputtering noise.

“They’re so cute when they’re little.” Orenda cooed at the foals and playfully batted the air in their direction.

“Yeah,” Apple Bloom agreed. “But then they start crying at two in the morning,” she added with a slight smirk.

Hopping down from the couch, Orenda approached the playpen. Her tufted ears wiggled and tails swished in a slow, hypnotic dance. She circled the pen three times one way, considered the foals for a few moments, and then circled it seven times in the other direction.

“There is something… odd, with them,” the kitsune hummed lifting an eye towards Apple Bloom. “A hex? No… something older and far more powerful. A curse… but… not a curse. I’ve seen something like this before…”

Apple Bloom bit her lip and gave an innocent whistle. She wasn’t supposed to talk about Fostering. But, if she couldn’t trust Orenda, who could she? Although less than an hour had passed, Apple Bloom could feel where she and Orenda were now tenuously tethered. The budding mystical bond linking them soul to soul still forming, still developing. Delicate strands waited to either solidify, or snap. A warm glow filled the space between her stomach and heart, thrumming in a slow pulse, matching Orenda’s steady pulse.

Catching Orenda and then giving each other their names had been but only a step on the bonding process, much like the chase itself. Magic was shared between them, linking Apple Bloom and Orenda far deeper than friendship or familial bonds. Every now and then, Apple Bloom swore she could hear Orenda’s thoughts, but chalked it up to excitement and her own active imagination.

Orenda tapped a paw to her chin, then shrugged before jumping back onto the couch.

“You have strange relatives, Apple.” Orenda concluded as she curled herself into a ball next to Apple Bloom.

“Bloom, actually.”

Lifting an ear, Orenda glanced up at her partner.

“Apple is my clan-name,” Apple Bloom continued.

“Ah.” The kitsune nodded her head before resting it back on her paws.

The foals played some more.

Sol began to slant through the windows, the day turning a bronze hue.

Apple Bloom glanced up at the clock, wondering what was taking Applejack and Soarin so long to come up with her punishment.

She jumped as Orenda said, “I thought pony names went given then clan.”

Grumbling a little—she’d faced similar comments all her life—Apple Bloom replied, “I ain’t one to guess why the Namegiver gave me the name she did,” her words containing more of a bite than intended.

“Perhaps it is because it sounds better that way.” Orenda shot a playful smirk up at her new partner. “Bloom Apple doesn’t have the same flow to it.”

“I suppose.”

Taking the opportunity, Apple Bloom glanced, for the thousandth time in the past hour, at her flank and her new mark. There, shining brightly, was a large zap apple blossom sitting above a sprig of foxglove. Seeing her mark made her so giddy Apple Bloom didn’t care what punishment Applejack would give her for the ruckus in town.

It had finally happened.

Last of her class, yes.

A little late, perhaps.

But, she’d found her special talent.

It was a little average, sure, a lot of ponies having flower related marks. The foxglove was rare, though. She’d never seen or heard of a pony with that particular flower. At least, not in Ponyville. There’d be other ponies out there with foxgloves in their marks. And of course there was the apple connection. Apple Bloom would have been knocked onto her flanks if she’d discovered her mark wasn’t in some fashion apple related.

A most perfect cutie mark.

“You still haven’t completed the ritual,” Orenda said, running her tongue over her fangs. “If it isn’t completed by sunset…”

“I know, I know,” irritation tightened Apple Bloom’s jaw.

“Sharing our names was only a beginning. All creatures share names when they meet…”

“Don’t worry. We got plenty of time to finish the ritual. I just have to make sure everything is okay between me and Applejack first.”

“But, the sun is already getting rather far to the west…”

The front door thumping open put a premature end to the conversation. Apple Bloom jumped off the couch, and straightened her shoulders to withstand whatever was about to come through the door. She gulped as Applejack and Soarin entered, both covered in dust. A deep scowl was carved onto her sister’s angular face, eyes dark in the shade of her hat.

“And I thought being a stunt-flier was tough,” Soarin chuckled as he closed the door before settling down on a chair between the window and hearth while Applejack headed into the kitchen to retrieve the bottles of milk for the foals. “My hooves feel about ready to fall off. Big Mac is a juggernaut. He never stops.”

Soarin hardly had time to get comfortable before there was a knock on the door and Rainbow let herself into the farmhouse.

“Hey, Soarin, AB,” Rainbow nodded to the pair as she made a beeline for the playpen and her daughter. “Zeph didn’t give you any trouble, did she?”

Soarin shrugged his wings and pointed to Granny Smith, the ancient mare asleep in her rocking chair. “She’d be the one to ask. Bloom was supposed to be watching them, but…”

Another shrug, followed by a heavy chuckle.

Rainbow hesitated, Zephyr settled between her wings, opened her mouth to say something, thought better of it, and then shook her head. Motherhood had really mellowed Rainbow, Apple Bloom wryly thought.

“Well, thanks anyways.” Rainbow lingered, moving from side to the other as she chewed on a question. “Hey… AB… what was that all about today in the market? All the jumping from rooftops and stuff. It was kinda cool… but not like you. Scoots I could totally see doing it. And what was with that fox?”

Blinking a few times, Apple Bloom slowly turned her head to make sure Orenda was still beside her. She was, a wide smirk baring the spirit’s fangs.

“You can’t see her anymore?” Apple Bloom asked Rainbow, glancing a few more times between the two.

“Huh? What, she can go invisible?” Rainbow hopped back, wings extending a little as if for a fight, and only remembered her passenger as a long yawn broke from Zephyr, a tiny hoof reaching up to grip the end of Rainbow’s mane.

A slight ripple worked its way from the tip of one tail over the rest of Orenda’s sleek body. Orenda raised a paw to wave, but instead caught a cushion to the face.

“What is that varmint doing in the house?” Applejack snapped, reaching for another cushion with one hoof while positioning herself above Ambrosia.

“Orenda is not a ‘varmint’! She’s a kitsune and a nature spirit!” Apple Bloom jumped up, ready to march across the room at her sister. “Besides, you let Winona sleep in the same room as Ambrosia. Ain’t that right, Soarin?”

Saorin was held up his hooves in a defensive motion. He had learned long before to avoid interfering when his wife and sister-in-law began to argue.

With a heavy crash of her hoof, Applejack snapped, “We ain’t talking about Winona, and don’t go looking for somepony to be saving your tail this time.”

“All I was hoping is for somepony to have some common sense around here,” Apple Bloom shot back, instantly regretting her words.

“Common sense is what you should have been using. What in Tartarus were you thinking, Bloom?” Applejack vibrated with anger, corners of her jaw clenched tight and fires deep in her green eyes. “Speaker Tantra told me you went running straight through the construction site. You could have been hit on the head, crushed, or worse! What if something had happened to you?”

Apple Bloom scoffed, tail flicking like a whip. “Nothing was going to happen to me.”

“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you too.”

“Oh, don’t try and pin a sob-story on me.” Apple Bloom’s hackles raised along with her voice. “You always do that. ‘What would I do?’ ‘What would Mama say if she were here.’ Well, she ain’t. And it ain’t my fault she’s gone.”

If Applejack was taken aback by the vitriolic snarl she failed to show any signs. Instead her own hackles raised higher, and her voice gained an even deeper growl to it.

“Don’t you go bringing Mama into this.”

“Why not? It seems to be your go-to argument these days, and how I’d be such a great, big burden on her, just like I am on you!” Furious tears matted the fur underneath Apple Bloom’s eyes. “You probably ain’t even noticed I got my cutie mark now.”

“Good for you, but that ain’t what were discussing right now,” Applejack dismissively spat.

The words were like a dagger sliding between Apple Bloom’s ribs into her heart. A cold fury twisted her gut, and she had to rip her gaze away from her sister. Disappointment wracked her head, making the room spin for a moment.

Why couldn’t Applejack just be happy for her for once? This was supposed to be the best day of her young life. She’d at last found her special talent, the one thing that completed her on a level deeper than mere hobby or infatuation. She was a shamaness, imbued with the knowledge and skill to handle all manner of potion and poultice, bonded to a spirit and capable of actual magic like a unicorn. She was probably the first Earth pony able to use magic since Smart Cookie.

And Applejack dismissed this as if it were less than nothing.

Worse, Applejack continued to coddle and act as if she were a foal that couldn’t look after herself.

“I don’t need you to protect me,” Apple Bloom said softly, her own anger giving her voice a frosty snap. “I didn’t need you in Southstone Spires, and I don’t need you now. If an army of undead griffons and three alicorns going at each other with anger and acrimony weren’t going to get me, a simple run ain’t either.”

Applejack snorted like a bull about to charge, eyes narrowing into glimmering slits. “Simple run? That was—Where are going?!”

“I need to go. Zecora is waiting for us, and it would be rude to keep her waiting any longer.” Apple Bloom shot Applejack a scathing look, and marched out of the house.

“We ain’t finished yet!” Applejack shouted, stomping after Apple Bloom. “You get back in here right now!”

“Yes, we are,” Apple Bloom retorted, throwing on her saddlebags and old, ratty Crusader’s cloak. It was a bit small, and stained with blood on the once-white patches. Heavier than its deceptively thin appearance indicated, her cloak carried with it many good and terrible memories. “You ain’t my mother, Applejack! I’m a grown mare now. I can make my own decisions.”

These were the last words Apple Bloom said to her sister, and would come to be an anchor around her heart.

Before Applejack could counter, demand she come back again, Apple Bloom sped off towards the Everfree Forest. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Her heart slammed against her chest. The familiar rows of apple trees rippled past in a blur. If she slowed and looked back, she knew she’d have gone back.

Nothing would be solved. They would just argue until the sun set, yelling past each other, tempers continuing to rise until they couldn’t even look at each other.

It had been the same ever since they got home from Gryphonia. Applejack’s smothering overprotectiveness. It had always been there, but never to such degrees. ‘Be careful’. ‘Don’t got into the Everfree.’ And even, ‘Stay out of the barn.’

It was like Applejack expected the disc to try to swallow her if she stepped out of the house.

Why couldn’t Applejack just be happy for her for once?

Why couldn’t she understand that being in the Everfree and learning all about plants, poultices, and potions made her happy? That learning how to heal or strengthen ponies made her feel safe? Made her feel useful if… it ever happened again. How, like her friends, she never wanted to be in trouble and be useless as she’d been before.

But no, all Applejack could do was boss her around and domineer. Never giving a word of encouragement or support. Just warnings given between clenched teeth. Barking demands to stay away from the Everfree, and especially Zecora!

Apple Bloom sped through the familiar parts of the forest, hooves churning up trails she’d travelled since first meeting Zecora. Over a low hillock shrouded in thick, emerald limbs, she turned onto new paths in case Applejack thought to follow her. Long legged in the blossoming years of maidenhood, it took little time to traverse the twisting trail into the forbidden depths that nopony dared venture. Paths made by monstrous beasts, long furrows clawed through earth and root, lead her towards the base of the mountains.

Panting, Apple Bloom emerged on the narrow bank of one of the many small tributaries of the Everfree River. Her legs ached from all the long hours of running, and the potions she’d taken to catch Orenda leaving her system. Looking around she frowned a little trying to figure out where she’d ended up. From the way the mountains loomed, casting their deepening shadows over the crystal clear water bubbling past her hooves. Moss dangled in vibrant curtains from pines, a red crested woodpecker watching her from a branch before flitting off. A second passed, and the rap-tap-tap of him pecking echoed through the trees.

Momentary panic welled in her throat, and as quickly was quenched. She’d gone much deeper than intended, and now couldn’t reach the ritual site she and Zecora had prepared. Biting down a curse, Apple Bloom cast a glance up and down the small river. She needed a small glade or open area, and soon, if she was to complete the binding in time.

“This way,” Orenda called from across the river, perched up in a branch. There was a note of worry in the kitsune’s voice that sent a jolt up Apple Bloom’s spine.

Without arguing or asking where they were going, Apple Bloom jumped over the river using a few stones and hurried after the fleeting images of Orenda’s three blue tails. They went only a very short distance before they emerged into a glade of sorts sheltered by truly ancient old growth cedars. Trunks as thick as some cottages, they formed a blocky perimeter around an open, flat area in the forest. Quarried stones dotted the ground in neat lines where there had once been the walls for some building, a dirt ramp hiding beneath probably stairs of some sort. It was a ruin dating back to before the War of the Sun and Moon, if Apple Bloom had to guess.

She wasted no time exploring the site, and instead dug her hooves into the soft, mossy forest floor. Dragging her hooves she began to quickly draw the complex symbols for the binding circle. Orenda paced around the edges of the glade, bounding up on a short pile of stones, then up to a stout branch like a cat.

Sticking her tongue out of the side of her mouth as she worked, Apple Bloom could feel the weight of Sol’s impending setting on her back. Dusk began to paint the sky peaking through the canopy in swatches of light pink that began to darken to purples.

To distract herself from the lack of time, Apple Bloom asked, “If you ain’t bothered, why did you let me catch you?”

Pausing in her pacing, Orenda asked, “What makes you think I let you catch me?”

Apple Bloom gave the kitsune a flat stare, to which Orenda let out a long, chirping laugh akin to a birds.

“You got that… something,” Orenda responded happily, muzzle pulled back in a wide smile. She shook her three tails, and bounced up onto a log overlooking the ritual circle Apple Bloom was digging. “Something that I need. That I like.”

For a too-long pause Apple Bloom just continued to stare, then let out a sigh and went back to work. “Well, when you figure out what that something is, you’ll tell me, right?”

“You’ll know right away,” Orenda enigmatically promised, dropping down into the edge of the ritual circle.

A whisper of a prayer in the back of her head hoped that Celestia was running a little late setting Sol. It was almost impossible. Celestia only failed to raise or set Sol when some disaster was striking the disc. And even then, she more often than not managed to meet her obligations.

None too soon, Apple Bloom finished the circle. Lacking the time to give it a proper inspection in case she’d made some mistake, Apple Bloom fell right into the spell to complete the binding of her and Orenda.

Standing on one side of the circle with Orenda opposite, Apple Bloom closed her eyes and reached inwardly for the fraying link. It was so close to snapping, to forever being lost, and with it her chance to join with Orenda in a way few others could begin to comprehend. Sol’s edge touched the lip of the disc, and the final, thin strands started to snap just as Apple Bloom poured all her latent magic through her body, out of her hooves, and into the ritual circle towards Orenda. Throwing back her head, Orenda let out a long, keening wail almost like the howl of a wolf.

Sol plunged in the usual sudden shift of day into night. Pitch black darkness fell over the small glade.

The strands wavered, and Apple Bloom feared she’d been too late. That the brief pause in forming the circle had cost her the connection she so desperately desired with Orenda.

Slowly, so slowly, the strands began to reform, and then grow. Golden radiance burned bright to be met by a flow of sapphire luminescence coming from Orenda. They entwined, wrapping around and blending into the other until a single, striped cord formed. Thicker and thicker, colours grasped in hooked knots, until a twisting cable took shape around the formerly thin cord.

Pulses ran along the bond. A gasp parted Apple Bloom’s mouth as foreign emotions washed into her. Thoughts and memories came in stuttering flashes. Jungle glades and golden-yellow grasslands. Muddy brooks and the roaring crash of a waterfall. The weathered face of an old zebra sitting in the shade of a grass hut. The same zebra, now younger by decades, blue eyes bright with the exertion of the chase. Loss pierced her breast, and Apple Bloom tossed back her head in a keening wail as he passed away.

As quick as they came, the memories passed, but not the connecting emotions. She could feel Orenda along the edges of perception. Hear the whispering traces of Orenda’s thoughts as if they were an extension of her own.

Apple Bloom felt so complete. So alive. A rush of fulfillment leaving her momentarily dizzy and laughing in pure bliss.

She took a step towards Orenda, and her hoof scraped across something hard just beneath the moss floor at the very heart of the circle she had formed for the ritual.

A great bell tolled inside Apple Bloom’s head, splitting her joy with sudden agony.

Staggering backwards she both heard and felt Orenda let out a pained yelp, and clutch her own head with her paws. Orenda’s surprise flashed white-hot in the base of Apple Bloom’s skull, heightened by the unfamiliar nature of their new bond.

Unprepared for the twin assaults of both physical and mental pain, Apple Bloom reeled backwards.

The disc spun for a moment.

Her stomach twisted itself up.

And then a wave of calm flowed into her from Orenda, her partner’s putting her experience to use calming and shielding Apple Bloom from the worst of the onslaught.

From the defensive posture Orenda adopted, this was not part of the binding ritual. Ears pressed back, Orenda bared her teeth and growled at the slate black darkness of the Everfree. Tails lashed at the slightest movement of the branches. New runes and spells darted into Apple Bloom’s head. Defensive magic to form shields. And offensive spells to make acids or crackling bursts of lightning. Whichever was needed.

“I don’t think we need that kind of magic,” Apple Bloom pointlessly began to say, when she was knocked down.

Something burst out of the ground where she’d been when the bell struck.

Her mouth fell open a little as she saw a tablet of greyish-green stone floating a couple pony lengths over the ritual circle. Little sparks flickered over its surface, tracing from the edges inward and down into runes carved deep into its surface. Apple Bloom recognised the script at once, even if she was unable to read it; it was of Marelantis.

A pit formed in Apple Bloom’s stomach.

“We need to get out of here,” she barked.

Of their own accord, the walls of the ruins began to reform. Moss retreated, stones digging themselves out of the soft soil before being flung one atop another. Doors rotten into mounds regrew, then slammed into restored frames. Stained glass shards whipped themselves into a deadly, multihued tornado. An altar began to retake former shape, thrusting aside centuries of decay in a few moments. Lightning crackled between the walls of the former ruins to the giant cedars, rebounding to the tablet, and down to the altar.

The tablet pulsed brighter and brighter, the glade illuminated as if Sol floated in its midst. Winds howled, flinging Apple Bloom’s mane about her and into her eyes. She staggered towards the center of the circle, a leg raised to protect her face.

“Orenda! Where are you?” Apple Bloom demanded, blinded by the light coming from the tablet.

Panic flowing from her thoughts, Orenda backed towards her newly bonded partner. “Here! Just think, and you’ll be able to find me.”

Doing her best to calm her fear, Apple Bloom found she could ‘see’ Orenda on the other side of the restored temple. Concentrating, she could even see through Orenda’s eyes. There was a brief instant of vertigo as she was looking at herself, eyes crammed shut against the blazing nimbus of light coming off the now spinning tablet.

Faster and faster the lightning pulsed. The stained glass shards flung themselves into the windows, and scenes of Celestia and Luna and Faust were renewed.

Underneath them the disc heaved, and then the ground fell away. With a shriek swallowed by the whirling tempest, Apple Bloom and Orenda plummeted into darkness. Further and further they fell, with only the dimming glow of the tablet above as a point of light, until it too vanished in a soundless clap.

For what seemed an eternity they fell through that vast abyss. A soundless, lightless void. There was neither warmth, nor its shocking lack.

If not for the heavy thump of her heart, Apple Bloom would have thought she’d perhaps died and was on her way to Lethe’s bank to be ferried to the afterlife. Her lungs began to burn, fire crawling through her chest as she gasped for air that didn’t exist in this terrible nothingness. Panic clawed at her. She swung her hooves wildly, and when she tried to clutch at her throat she found she couldn’t feel own fur.

Then it came to a bone jarring end. The last vestiges of breath burst from her lungs. Stars popping throughout her vision at the shocking return of light. Sol’s blistering rays prodded her face from the sun dangling far overhead. Apple Bloom greedily sucked in ragged gasps of warm, muggy air through aching teeth.

She sent silent thanks to Celestia for her deliverance as the blood pounding in her ears began to subside and her panic faded. Sore muscles protesting any movement, Apple Bloom gingerly turned her head to find Orenda, hissing as Sol stung her tender eyes.

Shielding her face with a leg, Apple Bloom looked around. She was on the sloping side of a rocky hill populated by only sparse, gnarled trees and tufts of yellowed grass. To one side waited an expansive woods, while to the other unfamiliar loomed mountains topped with glistening white.

Groaning she rolled over, calling for Orenda. The spirit answered with a pained mewl.

“Were we teleported?” Apple Bloom wondered, staring out over the woods.

“I’ve never heard of such a method if we have,” Orenda answered in a moan, shaking out her tails.

Testing out her legs, and finding that other than a bit of stiffness, she was fine, Apple Bloom asked, “Any idea where we are?”

“No place I’ve ever been before,” Orenda responded, jumping up onto Apple Bloom’s withers in a manner that would become common for the pair. “I am afraid I recognise neither this forest nor those mountains, nor that sea.” Orenda pointed to a strip of blue just barely visible at the foggy edge of the miasmic horizon that permeated the disc.

Staying on the hillside a bad idea, Apple Bloom headed down towards the woods, hoping they were just in a new part of the Everfree. Perhaps on the southern side of the mountains. But, Sol was in the wrong place for that. Unless the seasons had shifted to high-summer, when Sol liked to fly over the upper quarter of the disc.

They wander through the forest, and very quickly something became apparent; they were not in the Everfree anymore. Or even Equestria.

Well tended, the forest reminded Apple Bloom more of tales from the Books of Sol and Selene. Tall, slender oaks and broad chestnuts formed pillars for a thin, entwined canopy that allowed shafts of dancing light down to the leafy forest floor. It was enchanting, and several times Apple Bloom was certain she could make out laughter just on the edges of perception, so great was the semblance to the stories of Luna and the Oracle she’d read.

Orenda was far more at peace, her new partner draping her back legs either side of Apple Bloom’s chest, with her chin resting atop folded paws on her head.

An overgrown road, thick tufts of grass poking out between wide cobblestones weathered into ruts by many generations of trundlings wagons crossed her path. Few ponies used the road now, enough to keep one side a little trampled down, but not enough to keep the roadway clear of the encroaching growth.

Glancing left and right, Apple Bloom picked a direction at random, and continued on her way.

“You feel the magic in this place?” Orenda queried a couple hours into their walk, twitching her middlemost tail. A spasm ran up the kitsune’s back. “Old magic. Pure magic. There are few places like this left on the disc. So many have been tainted.”

Apple Bloom nodded solemnly.

She could feel the power in this forest, a healthy flow of untended magic permeating the soil and feeding the trees, drifting up into the air until it formed little patches of fog. Even the Everfree rarely boasted enough pure magic to have it manifest in such a manner. But then, the Everfree was like an ancient, battle scarred dragon, growling at anything that drew too near. While this forest elicited images of a healthy, middle-aged stallion resting in the shade, a sprig of wheat pressed in his lips.

The image abruptly shattered as they came across a patch of sickness.

A swamp swallowed the road, a deep bog of stinking peat and barely flowing water extending in either direction and straight ahead. More troublesome were the ratty, decrepit roofs and toppled walls of a once thriving town that poked out of the calm waters. There was a crunch underhoof, and glancing down, Apple Bloom saw she stood on the femur of a long dead pony.

Screaming, she jumped back as Orenda leapt off her shoulders, tails dancing and gleaming eyes searching for danger.

Heart hammering with a rush of adrenaline, Apple Bloom stared at a field of bones just poking out of the grass on the road. Dozens of bodies, all twisted up where they’d died trying to flee the town, bones weathered from centuries out in the open where the otherwise enchanting forest refused to encroach.

“L-Let’s try the other way,” Apple Bloom suggested, already turning around at a quick cantor that made Orenda have to run to keep up.

On her back she felt something watching her. Through the trees came a rippling, low growl. Bursting into a full gallop, she didn’t slow until they were a couple hills away.

Gazing upwards as they rounded one of many bends in the rarely used road, though now Apple Bloom knew why, she almost walked right into the first pony she found.

A middle-aged brown mare, the other pony had a set of baskets strapped on her sides filled with leafy fronds of cabbages. Several other mares and stallions, accompanied by a few older foals, worked a pair of small cabbage patches that broke open the tranquil forest on either side of the road. On the other side of the fields there rested a snug, little village.

More than even the mare, Apple Bloom was taken aback by the village itself, as it had walls.

A proper, old fashioned palisade complete with ditch and watchtower keeping lookout over the fields and narrow road. Dab grey and brown ponies worked the fields. At a glance, Apple Bloom made out cabbages, carrots, chard, and some sort of bean in squared off areas. The workers looked up as Apple Bloom approached, brows furrowed as they studied her.

“Hello, I was wondering if you could tell me where I am?” She asked in her usual, friendly manner.

The ponies looked to each other, and then spoke in a rough, foreign tongue Apple Bloom had never heard. An elderly mare approached, and Apple Bloom was certain the other ponies cautioned her to stay back. She spoke to Apple Bloom in a different language, and then tried a third when that one was also unknown. When they all proved ineffective, they switched to the tried and true method of gesturing while saying the same words louder and slower, as if that would make them any clearer.

“Here, let me help,” Orenda said, jumping onto Apple Bloom’s back. Placing her paws on Apple Bloom’s temples,

“You are a witch,” the mare said, backing up.

Through a sour frown, Apple Bloom said, “I ain’t a witch. I’m an apprentice shaman.”

“Technically, you graduated when we became bound,” Orenda chidded softly.

Ignoring Orenda for the moment, Apple Bloom gestured to the forest, village, and then the mountains peeking over the treetops. “I just want to know where I am. I don’t mean any harm.”

Again, the ponies all looked at each other with concern.

“You are in Thule, of course.”

“Of course,” Apple Bloom repeated in a sigh. Then she paused, ears perking up. “Wait, Thule? But, there ain’t been no Thule for…” She scrunched up her nose trying to remember Miss Cheerilee's history lessons. “A really long time,” Apple Bloom concluded when the number escaped her. She’d always been better at more practical skills than remember dates and numbers.

Unless it was alchemy. But, that was fun and interesting, unlike history.

Misinterpreting her, the mare said, “You must be thinking of Thulesia. Which became Thule, oh, not more than four hundred years ago. It is a surprisingly common mistake for outsiders to make.” The mare wore a placating sort of smile, as if she were talking to a slow pony.

“Though you’d think they’d know better by now,” snidely remarked on of the other ponies.

Apple Bloom fell to her rump. What the mare said was impossible. She may have had trouble remembering the precise year Thule broke apart, but she had no difficulties remembering when the fabled empire Faust had built came to its sudden end. Mostly as it was in antiquity so distant to have been ancient when Celestia and Luna had been born.

Looking to her new partner, Apple Bloom said dully, “Orenda, I think we ain’t in Equestria no more…”

Continued in Mountain of the Alabaster Throne, coming... eventually?

Author's Note:

After far too long, here is the continuation of Apple Bloom and Orenda's story.

This has been a story that I've worked off and on upon for a few years now. There are several in this category it seems. I need to stop being so flaky and finish what I start...

It was a comment by one of the readers that really helped spur a sudden twinge of much needed impetus to actually write down what had for a long time been circulating in the back of my thoughts on what came next for Apple Bloom and Orenda. I've always both loved what I had brainstormed for AB and her foxy friend, and hated it. It is a tad trite, but I also love that sort of thing at times. I mean, I grew up reading over and over Anne McCaffery's Dragonriders of Pern books, which while fun, engaging stories, are by no means examples of superb writing.

That aside, there was also always the question of there being spoilers for the main story of Myths. Though, by this point, I've rather stopped worrying about that.

While I don't want to jinx things, I'm feeling more like my old self and writing again. Fingers crossed that this is only the start of a once more productive period.