The Longest Night

by Mister E

Family Secrets

The Longest Night

Thinking back on the events of last night in detail, I can barely keep my hooves from shaking long enough to write more than a few words at a time. But I have to get this all down while I can. While it’s fresh in my mind.

I need to put it down here, in my journal, and then lock it away so that no pony will ever see it until they need to. Dear Celestia, what was I thinking? I actually begged them to let me stay. I thought it was going to be an adventure. Goddess, I even bragged to Sweetie Bell and Scootaloo how I was staying this year...

I can never tell them. Not ever. But I need to tell somepony or I will lose what little sanity I have left. So I’m putting it all in here. And if by some miracle I ever have foals of my own, then as soon as they get old enough to ask about it, I’m going to show this to them. If I’m really lucky it will keep them from EVER wanting to be here when it happens.

Okay, deep breath. Normally Applejack would kill me if she knew I was drinking any of her hard cider, but after last night I don’t think it’ll be an issue. This stuff doesn’t taste much different from our regular cider, but I think that has more to do with how well she makes it than anything else. Either way, it’s doing it’s job, my hooves are shaking less. I suppose I am as ready as I will ever be, so here goes...

Every pony in Equestria knows at least a little bit of the lore about the Long Night. Up in Canterlot they have a big party, the entire castle is lit up, (with good reason as it turns out). It’s one of the few places in Equestria where ponies aren’t shut away inside their homes.

Even in big cities like Manehatten and Whinnyappleuos, for one night of the year, everything stops. And from dusk till dawn the doors are locked, the shutters are closed tight, and no pony will venture onto the streets.

Twilight once told me that even on the other side of the portal, in the ‘hooman’ world, they recognize the Long Night. It’s apparently called the winter solstice over there. Even in a land with almost none of the magic we have, they still acknowledge that night. That’s how dangerous it is.

Last year, I begged Applejack and Big Mac to let me stay with them on the farm. I heard all of the family stories you see. Granny explained to me how it was because we were on the edge of the Everfree, how it was always worse for us than it was for any pony else. She said it was because the Everfree had one of the ‘Four Pillars of Creation’ inside it. That her tribe migrated here from the Southern Pillar, and that this here was the Eastern Pillar. I asked her why they would chose to settle down anywhere that was so dangerous. She just chuckled and said that everywhere was dangerous, the only difference was that this was a danger that the Apple family understood. That we knew what we needed to do to endure the Long Night. And that the trade off was that for the rest of the year we would have good soil to grow on, and a bountiful harvest. This was true enough, but there was so much more that I DIDN’T know at the time. Far too much.

I suppose I should tell you what I was expecting back then, so that you’ll understand why I wanted to stay. I’m not trying to make any excuses for myself, but I just want you to understand why.

On the day before the long night, everything came to a stop. In town all the stores closed early, and we all got out of school early, and every body was inside, doors bolted well before dark. I was always sent to stay in town with one of my friends, or one of Applejack’s friends. I was NOT allowed to stay on the farm with the others. I asked them if it was so bad then why didn’t they stay in town as well. Granny said it was important to stay, to perform the ‘old rites’, and to show them that we weren’t afraid. I told them then why couldn’t I stay as well, I wasn’t afraid. But Granny said no, and that was final. She said I was just too young. Then she’d try to explain what went on, in an effort to scare me off.

Well, the stories she told me were, looking back on them, pretty watered down. If I’d known the truth... no, I can’t think that way. If I thought there was a way to fix what happened...

Anyway, the stories... There are lots of stories ponies tell about the Long Night. I won’t go into any pony else’s religion, or belief system. I can only speak for what the Apples know.

The longest night of the year occurs in the middle of winter. Most ponies consider it the beginning of winter. But Granny explained to me how after the Long Night, each night gets a tiny bit shorter, and each day brings us closer to planting season. She says the Long Night is the true end of the year, and the morning after is the beginning of the next. She also says that’s part of why it’s the most dangerous night of the year, especially here.

She told me something once, that at the time I didn’t believe. I actually looked it up before this year, and, as always, Granny was right. No pony was ever born on the day preceding the Long Night. On the other hoof, more ponies have died on that day than any other day of the year. She says it’s because Death is always hungry, and the longer winter goes on, the less it has to feed on. That’s why there are no births, and that’s why the weakest ponies, who are unable to fight him off, will pass on that day.

I can say, or rather write the word Death now. He’s left. For now. But he’s left his mark, oh yes. And now I’m going to tell you, whoever is reading this, one VERY important thing. If you are passing through the Long Night, NEVER call him by his name. Because his ears are wide open, and he WILL hear you calling. That’s why Granny never used that word, even if the night had passed. She called him what her momma called him... Mr. Gryfe.

Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself again. Cider is doing it’s job, but almost too well. I’ll hold off on anymore until the shakes come back. I wish I could say they won’t, but I know I’d be lying.

Well, this year the reynir, or as folks call them around here, the rowan trees, had a bumper crop of berries. This was both good and bad. Reynir berries were good because they warded off all sorts of supernatural critters from the Everfree, and they helped keep travelers from getting lost. The bad part was, a bumper crop of berries meant we were due for a long, hard winter. We had begun taking steps to prepare, even before the harvest, so as the days heralding the Long Night approached, we had already begun to hunker down.

One of the last things Big Mac did the week before was to put up a new door frame made out of reynir wood on the front door, and nail sprigs of darker reynir up over every window, and the back door. Now I’d seen the usual preparations for the Long Night, so this wasn’t new to me. But as far as I could remember no pony else ever did it, and no pony ever explained to me why WE did. When I asked Applejack about it, she just said that it was something that we did, ‘just in case’. ‘In case of what?’ I had asked her, but all she said was ‘talk to Granny, if I really wanted all the details’.

Much as I really didn’t want a long story, I did want to know what was going on, so I went and asked Granny what was with all the reynir. She said that not only was the reynir good for warding off evil, but that it was also a threshold tree. She said that a threshold is a place of both INGRESS (the way in) and EGRESS (the way out). To quote her, “Reynir is a portal, a threshold tree offering you the chance of going somewhere... and leaving somewhere."

She also said that the reynir Big Mac was using around the windows and back door was special. According to Granny, birds droppings often contained reynir seeds, and if such droppings land in a fork or hole where old leaves have accumulated on a larger tree, such as an oak or a maple, they can result in a rowan growing as an epiphyte on the larger tree. I asked her what an epiphyte was, and she said it was just a fancy way of saying a plant that grows on another plant, like mistletoe. So I asked her why that made a difference to the reynir. She said such a reynir is called a ‘flying rowan’ and was especially potent against witches, magic, and a counter-charm against sorcery.

Now a sensible earth pony should have started to become alarmed at this point. But until this morning, I was anything but a sensible earth pony. No, I was a young filly who had just found one more reason I just had to stay on the farm during the Long Night. I mean I grew up on all the stories Granny Smith used to tell. About how all the critters left the forest, and how all kinds of things roamed free on the Long Night. Well, I thought I knew what to expect.

After last night I realize just how foalish I was, and how real the world can be. I lost something last night. More than the obvious. And I know deep down that I can never get it back.

All right, enough of that. I need to tell this so I can be done with it.

So, like I said, we had done all that we could up until two days before the Long Night to get ready. For me that wasn’t all that much. This year they decided to let me stay. Or rather Granny Smith told Applejack that I was old enough, and that this was something I needed to do. Applejack wasn’t happy about that. She wasn’t mad like I expected her to be, but she got real sad about it. I tried to cheer her up as best I could, but that seemed to only make it worse. Finally Big Mac told me to just leave her be and go visit my friends while I could. Much as I didn’t want to see my sister sad, I got the message, so I went to find Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo.

Sweetie was at Rarity’s, they were packing up to go to the big party in Canterlot. All of Twilight’s friends were invited, and only Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, and Applejack were not going. Applejack would never leave the farm during the Long Night. Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy were going back to Cloudsdale. Pegasi never stayed on the ground during the Long Night. Most of them have already left. I’d hoped to see Scootaloo before her and her family left as well.

When Rarity saw that I had come to visit she ushered Sweetie out the door and told us to go play while she finished her packing for the trip. I got the impression that Sweetie Belle had been trying to help. From personal experience I understood why Rarity was glad to give her a break. Sweetie is one of my best friends, but honestly, when she tries to be ‘helpful’ it usually adds another half hour onto whatever you are trying to do. I’ll never forget the day she came to ‘help’ me with my chores so that we could have more time to play. It was after dark before I got done...

Well, the first thing we did was go find Scootaloo. She was, as expected, hanging out with Rainbow Dash. They were outside Twilight’s new castle with Fluttershy. As soon as she saw us coming down the path, she made her goodbye to Rainbow and hurried out to me us.

She told us how she had tagged along with Rainbow as she and Fluttershy were going to say their goodbyes to Twilight. Twilight had tried to convince them to go to the big party once again, and once again both pegasi were politely refusing. Scoots said that for once, Rainbow was acting as timid as Fluttershy. She kept jumping at every little noise, and seemed to be in a real hurry to leave. Fluttershy didn’t seem to be acting any different than she normally did, except that there seemed to be a sadness about her. Scoots said that she was really glad to see us because the way they were all acting was making her feel really uncomfortable.

So we all went back to the clubhouse and gossiped like old people about who was doing what, and who was going where. Cranky and Matilda were taking Steven Magnet with them to Celestia’s party. Scoots said that Discord was going to go with Fluttershy back to Cloudsdale, according to what Fluttershy was telling Twilight. Sweetie Belle said that almost half the ponies in town were packing up and leaving this year. That was way more than last year. Hearing all this, and thinking about Big Mac’s reynir, I began to wonder if every pony else knew something I didn’t.

I asked Sweetie and Scoots about it. Sweetie said that it seemed to her like the ones that were leaving were all the older ponies. Scoots got really uncomfortable. Finally she admitted that yeah, she had been feeling a little weird lately. She said she couldn’t sleep at night the last two nights. That as soon as it got dark, she would feel like there was something roaming around outside her house. She would get up and make herself look out the window. She said that was the hardest thing she ever did, because she knew, she just KNEW, that as soon as she opened the curtain, that whatever it was would be on the other side of the glass, looking back at her. But each time she managed to look, nothing was there.

She asked us if either of us had the same feeling. If either of us went looking. Neither of us had. She said that her parents were almost done packing, and she said that they would be leaving for Cloudsdale today. Sweetie said that she would be leaving today too, as soon as Rarity finished packing. Then they both looked at me. “Well I for one am staying!” I declared proudly. For me it was a big deal. It meant that I was finally old enough to be able to handle some of the ‘grown up’ stuff, that my family had always made me avoid.

Sweetie made me promise to tell her all about it when she got back. (I won’t, not EVER). Scoots looked at me, and looked really sad for a moment. Then she gave me a big hug and told me to be careful. I was kinda shocked. Scoots was always acting like her hero, Rainbow Dash. Stuff like hugs were considered uncool, and she only accepted them from us with great reluctance and even then only on special occasions. Well I hugged her back until it got awkward, then we both let go and kind of turned away from each other, which made Sweetie start giggling. That made Scoots get all red faced, and the chase was on as usual, and things seemed to go back to normal for the rest of the day.

Why is it I see things so much clearer looking back? Scoots was saying something to me without using words. And a part of me knew what she was saying, and was saying something back. I understand so much more today than I did back then...

Well anyway, we said our goodbyes that day, and I watched my two best friends leave. Then I walked through Ponyville on my way back. The sun was still high in the sky, but I couldn’t help feeling a little creeped out, seeing all the businesses that were shut down. Almost no pony was out walking the streets.

Now maybe this would seem normal on an Appleloosa Sunday, but this was Ponyville. Normally this place was busier than a beehive. And it was so quiet today as well. Even the few ponies that were still here were barely speaking above a whisper. The Long Night was still a day away, but from the way ponies were acting you’d think it was tonight. Suddenly I stopped trotting, and had this really chilling thought. ‘What if it was tonight? Did I get the days wrong?’ For some reason I was frozen in the street, my heart beating hard in my chest. My eyes were wide open and it was the middle of the day, but it suddenly seemed like all the light and color was draining away from my vision. I started to shiver, some little voice in my head was trying desperately to tell me something, but I couldn’t quite make out the words. Then, all of a sudden, somepony bumped into me from behind, and it was like a cloud had moved away from the sun, and everything was back to normal. I drew in a huge gasping breath, as I felt some pony’s hooves steady me and keep me from falling. The pony, Roseluck, apologized to me, and I stammered out something in reply that I can’t remember. I stood there a few more moments, trying to understand what they hay just happened to me, but no answers were forthcoming.

I stood there silently in the sun, letting it’s warmth reassure me. It certainly was unseasonable warm for the middle of winter. But right then all I cared about was how it seemed to banish whatever confusion I was experiencing. I looked around the mostly empty street. Everything seemed all right. It must have just been some idle thought, a self delusion.

Dismissing the occurrence from my mind as best I could, I made my way to Sugarcube Corner, so that I could sit down for a minute and maybe have a cupcake or a muffin to take the edge off.

The Cakes had already left, but Pinkie Pie still had the place open. Scoots told me earlier that she was leaving on the afternoon train with Twilight. Since nopony else was there, I asked her for one of my secret hidden vices, a banana nut muffin. I’ve kept this from my family for years now, but I just LOVE bananas. I could only imagine the scandal if word ever got out about it. Pinkie would slip me some on the sly, she called them her ‘special’ cinnamon apple muffins. They were special all right, not an apple to be seen and filled with banana nut goodness. Somehow Pinkie just knows things. She knew the first time she saw me that this was my favorite fruit. Part of what she calls her ‘Pinkie sense’. As she passed over my muffin, I was passing her back her payment when she said, ‘no, this one is on the house’.

At first I was really happy, until I looked up into her eyes. Celestia I wish I had not. This was the scariest thing I had seen all day, and that includes what had happened on the street. Pinkie was looking at me with sad resignation, and tears were falling down her cheeks. She was crying. In all my life I had NEVER seen Pinkie cry. I stood there like a fool, muffin in my hoof, just looking at her. “Pinkie?” I finally managed to ask.

“I’m sorry,” she said, as she came out from behind the counter, and began walking toward the door. “My Pinkie sense has never been wrong Applebloom. There’s nothing I can do.” And with that she gently ushers me out the door, and I hear her lock it from the inside.

What just happened? What in tarnation was going on? I raised my hoof to bang on the door, taking in a deep breath I was going to demand an explanation. Then from inside I hear this long wail of grief. Like the bottom just dropped out of some pony’s soul. Now THAT put me really on edge. Muffin forgotten I bolt from the store, and make a beeline for Sweet Apple Acres. I’m galloping just as hard as my legs can go, my speed seemed to only increase my fear.

As I crest the rise of the trail that leads down to my home, I see something that makes me freeze on my tracks once more. Rising out of the Everfree, I see what at first looks like a dark cloud that quickly begins to pass over my farm, heading westward. As I watch in horrified fascination, I realize that what I am seeing are birds. Birds and bats, and bugs, of every shape and size. Anything with wings that have lived in the Everfree are on the move. Like some vast winter migration, they all fly as fast as they can, AWAY from the forest.

Keeping my eyes on the endless flock, I slowly make my way down to the farm. Granny is out on the porch, watching the sky. Applejack and Big Mac are rushing around putting things into the barn, pretty much everything that isn’t nailed down, from what I can see. I trot up to Granny.

“It’s gonna be a bad ‘un this year.” She says. “Not the best time for you to experience your first Long Night,” she says sadly.

Again with the sad eyes. I feel my chest constrict. I tell her about what happened with Pinkie all in a rush. I ask her what it means. Instead, she says something that, at the time, didn’t seem all that important.

“Remember when we all were going to find out if Pinkie was related to us Apples?” Granny says, putting a hoof on my shoulder. “Well, I knew from the start that she was. It was that Pinkie sense of hers. All us Apples have a little of it here and there. I knew when I first laid eyes on her that she was one of us. Her family are rock farmers, did you know that?”

Of course I did, but Granny gets forgetful sometimes, so instead I say “really?”

“Yep. I reckon her branch splintered off from the Northern tribe. The North Pillar can be especially bad, not as bad as we’re going to have it this year, but worse than what we usually get, for longer. I can’t say as I blame any pony who wants to get out from under it. Take their family, and move away, start over. Thing is, when you leave one of the pillars, you are only taking yourself closer to another. I reckon that’s why all the rest of Pinkie’s family are so sad all of the time. It’s a good thing that the elements picked her to be ‘Laughter’. That family really needs it.”

I was about to say that was all well and good, but why was she crying, and what was with the birds, when Applejack and Big Mac came galloping up.

“Everything’s in the barn and we got it locked up tight. Mac’s got reynir up around it. I reckon it’s as good as it’s going to get.” Applejack says.

“Eeyup,” Mac agrees.

“Just in time too,” Granny says, pointing a hoof toward the Everfree.

We all look soundlessly, as a living carpet begins to make it’s way toward us. I am about to scream a warning, when something miraculous occurs. The living tide parts and flows around us. Around the perimeter of the farm. It’s almost like Twilight had one of her magic shields up. I look up at Granny, the question on my lips.

“Respect,” she says, without being asked. “We respect the land and the critters of the forest, and in turn, the land respects us... to a certain extent,” she adds enigmatically.

“And I suppose those wards scribed into the bones of the earth all around our farm when it was being cleared had nothing to do with it.” Applejack says smugly.

“Well,” Granny admits, “Respect will only get you so far. Go fetch me my jug youngin,” she says to me. “We might as well enjoy this part of the show.”

Mutely I do as she asks, and the four of us sit together on the front porch and watch the strangest parade I have ever seen. Occasionally one of us would speak up.

“Oh, look there, and albino skunk,” Granny says excitedly, “Why I haven’t seen one of those since I was a filly.”

This is so surreal. Just like with the birds, everything that skitters, crawls, trots, or lumbers, is coming out of the forest, all heading west as fast as they can go. I watch animals pass that should be hibernating. I see insects that aren’t suppose to be out until spring. I see creatures that I have never even heard of before.

“What’s that?” I ask, pointing a hoof at something that looks like a cross between a badger and a scorpion.

“Costamogen.” Granny replies. “Nasty critters. I seen a pack of ‘em take down a full grown bear one time.”

After about a half an hour I say, “Granny, is it me or are the critters getting bigger and bigger?” As the unending tide continues to swell.

“It ain’t you sugar pea,” Granny replies. “All the smaller critters tend to get the ‘fear’ first, but as we get closer to the Long Night, it creeps into the bigger animals as well.” She says knowingly.

“Why does it seem like they are all coming this way?” I ask. “Shouldn’t they be leaving in all directions?”

“Well, I reckon that’s our fault.” Granny says. “See we made a kind of safe place here on the edge of the Everfree. Right now critters are all drawn to it because of the fear that’s hounding them. We are kind of like the pin in the water balloon, everything is all funneling toward us. Once they find that they can’t get in, they just keep on going in the direction they were headed. If you stay and watch long enough, you’ll see just about everything that lives inside the forest. Except of course for the things you can’t see.”

I’m about to question that last statement when I see she is pointing a hoof to the right boundary line of our farm. There, in the soft mud of the road from a recent rain, we can all see tiny footprints appearing. More and more occur over top of the ones that just appeared as if a lot of animals were walking in a line, despite the fact that nothing was visible.

“Um, what are they?” I ask.

“Well, judging from the small size of the tracks, I’d have to say they are a Noidea.” Granny says with a cackle.

Applejack and Big Mac share a grin, a ‘Noidea’ can crop up from time to time when dealing with the Everfree. There is still so much of it no pony has ever explored, and still so many critters no pony has ever seen. So every time one of us sees a new one we call it a ‘Noidea’, until we find out what it is.

“Mac, if those tracks are still there when this is all over, get a cast of ‘em and send them to Princess Twilight.” Applejack says. “I reckon she’ll ‘squee’ herself if she had a new critter to track down and study.

“Eeyup.” Mac replies.

We watch the flow of creatures for a little longer. My fear from earlier receding. “Granny, all the critters do this every year?” I ask.

Granny looks pensive for a moment. “Well, not EVERY year youngin.’ She finally admits. “Some years it’s mild and you hardly see anything leave the borders. But every so many years it gets really bad. See there are four pillars. And ‘HE’ only comes to one a year. And it isn’t some set thing either. ‘HE’ goes where he wants to go, most often he seems to like the North Pillar. This year though... this year I’m worried that there’s a chance that ‘HE’ might be coming here.”

“HE?” I ask.

Applejack looks a question at Granny Smith. Granny nods back. So Applejack comes over and sits beside me. Usually Granny, as the matriarch is the one to pass down the stories and knowledge of our family. But I can tell that this time she’s letting Applejack do it for some reason.

“Sugarcube, I’m gonna say his name, but only one time. And afterwords I want you to PROMISE me not to say it again until the Long Night is over. Will you promise me that?” Applejack asks me, just as serious as she can be.

“S-sure,” I stammer in reply, caught off guard by her expression. “I promise I wont say whatever name your gonna tell me until you say it’s okay.”

A look of profound relief passes across her face before she begins speaking once more.

“Alright sis. I’m gonna share with you what really goes on during the Long Night.”

See all them critters are all leaving because they are worried that HE may be coming tomorrow night. HE is the reason no pony is born the day before the Long Night. HE is the reason the frail and sickly die that night. He is the whisper in the darkness. The hoof on your shoulder when no pony is there. He is the last mercy, the final mystery, the one no being can deny. He roams the world always, but on one night of the year he takes a mortal form to stalk the land. And his touch is that of oblivion. His name is DEATH.”

As soon as Applejack said that last word, all the animals within the sound of her voice froze in their tracks, and all let out a great wail. Then they all began running once more, even faster than before. Seeing this I came perilously close to peeing myself right there on the porch.

“You mean there actually is a being called...” I stop, not daring to name him aloud, and not just because of my promise.

“We call him Mr. Gryfe.” Granny says, before turning away from us once more.

“S-so Mr. Gryfe shows up on the night of the Long Night?” I say. “Just like in the almanac? Black robes, scythe, and everything?”

“Eeyup.” Brother says, not putting me at ease at all.

“Well,” My sister interjects. “He looks like that to us because we are farm ponies. What we see when we look at him is a ‘caballiomorpic personification’ of the aspect of dyin’. That there’s a fancy term I learned from Twilight. Basically it means that he’s the aspect of D- I mean, the aspect of ‘what it means to come to an end’, that has been given a ‘pony’ form. See, the Long Night represents the end of all things, and the next morning represents the beginning. So uh... Mr. Gryfe is kinda all the concentrated ‘endings’ come to life so to speak.”

My head spins a bit from trying to understand what my sister was saying. Finally it starts to sink in though. In one more night... TOMORROW night, Death would literally stalk the land. No wonder every critter was running scared.

“And w-why do we have to stay here?” I ask, becoming alarmed once more.

This time Granny turns and faces me, her muzzle grim and determined.

“Youngin, what I’m about to tell you is one of the Family Secrets. You know what that means.” She says looking me dead in the eyes.

“O-of course Granny.” I stammer at the unexpected news. “No Apple will EVER reveal an Apple Family Secret. An if ever she does, then she’s kicked out of the clan forever. No exceptions.” I state by rote.

And it was true. We had a bunch of them too, only ever known to members of the Apple family. I remember hearing about a third cousin of mine that had gotten caught trying to sell the Apple family cider recipe to some red maned ponies in Appleloosa. He was kicked out of the clan that day, and was ‘encouraged’ to keep his muzzle shut thereafter. Apples took their secrets really seriously, so to be trusted with one was a big responsibility. I gave Granny my full attention, trying to seem as serious as I could.

“Youngin, you heard about how your Granny was here back when they first founded Ponyville. How Celestia gave us Apples the land we now farm. The part we left out was, the real reason she did it.

Way back, before all the tribes came together, back when the world was young. Primal forces ran rampant across all of Equestria. Y’all seen what Discord can do right?, and all he is is a spirit of chaos. Back in them days there were worse things.

Back then the world wasn’t as orderly an peaceful as it is nowadays. The pegasi weren’t as organized, an the seasons were much harsher. Spring was full of downpours, Summers were so hot you could fry an egg on a rock. Fall would be burnin in the day, an freezing at night. And then there was Winter...

Spring is for the birthing, Summer is for the growing, Fall is for the feasting, an Winter is for... the dying. Back then when the world got cold, and the snow fell deep, then Mr. Gryfe woke up and would stalk the land.

Now what Applejack said about him is true. About him being a caballi-whatcacallit. He ain’t a real pony. He’s like a void in the shape OF a pony. Entropy, decay, he’s what everything returns to when it settles down an stops moving. He’s whatcha call a primal force. Just like his opposite, Life.

Well, back then the world was pretty wild. But the three tribes were awful strong with their magics. Pegasi were gradually bringing the weather under control. The unicorns were discovering spells that made everypony’s life easier. And we earth ponies were using our life magic to bring forth enough bounty to keep us all from starving during the harsh winters.

Now I don’t know the details of how it first happened, but the stories say that there was an earth pony that had gotten lost during a blizzard out in the forest. Now this particular pony was strongly gifted in earth magic. It was said that she could even talk with the trees and plants, that they understood her, an she them.

Well, she was out there all alone while Mr. Gryfe was stalking the land. She had taken shelter against the trunk of a reynir tree, and used her magics to grow its limbs into a tight canopy around her to protect her from the thick falling snow. But Mr. Gryfe, he caught wind of her life magics, and had begun to head her way.

The reynir warned her about him a comin, and she was powerful afraid. But the reynir said that he could send Mr. Gryfe away, back to the void, but he would need her help to do it. The pony quickly agreed, and then the reynir opened a hole in it’s canopy. The pony could see Mr. Gryfe coming for her. She was powerful afraid, but she did what the reynir said and poured her magics into it. Suddenly a green light sprung up in the opening, right as Mr. Gryfe was reaching for her. The he suddenly vanished.

The pony thanked the reynir for saving her, and asked her what happened to Mr. Gryfe. The tree told her that he had returned back to the primal void. And that he wouldn’t be able to escape it for quite awhile. But the reynir cautioned the pony, telling her that she was near one of the four pillars of creation. And that when Mr. Gryfe DID return, it would be from one of those.

Well, the pony made it back to her tribe, and told the story of what happened to her. The other ponies in her tribe were amazed, but no one doubted her story, for she was known to be one of the most powerful earth ponies alive.

An expedition was sent out, and before long they found the pillar that the tree had spoken of. A simple white column, reaching up into the sky, alone and untouched in the forest. The ponies planted reynir trees around it, and grew them quickly with their magic, and the earth pony wizards learned the trick of the portals, and kept a vigil near it.

Sure enough, the following year, on the evening of the longest night, Mr. Gryfe returned. And although there were some casualties, the earth ponies banished him again. The trees warned them however, that there were three other pillars in the four corners of Equestria, and that Mr. Gryfe could return from any of them. The also warned that he would be even hungrier since he hasn’t fed in the past years, and that he would be angry.

Well, the earth pony tribes gathered together and held a council. It was decided that they would send a tribe in search of each of the remaining pillars, and once they found them would establish a hold to keep watch, in case Mr. Gryfe tried to escape again.

Now the finding of the pillars was no easy thing. Thousands of years would pass before the second one was discovered. By then the races had begun their wars and had separated. This meant that the earth ponies had no help in discovering the location of the pillars. They grew bitter toward the other tribes, who seemed to lord themselves about with their powerful magics, while earth pony magicians became fewer with every generation. This was because although Mr. Gryfe favored the northern pillar from where he was originally sent away from, he would occasionally manifest elsewhere, and then stalk the land hungrily, especially for the ponies of the earth. If the essence of the void could be said to bear a grudge, it was against our tribes.

It was after the reunification of the three tribes that we discovered the third pillar. And with the coming of Celestia and Luna, the leaders of the earth pony tribes decided it was time to let them know what we had been doing. During a private audience with the princesses, the leaders of our tribe and others told them of our efforts in suppressing Mr. Gryfe every year. Of his escapes, and what happened when he did. They demonstrated the magic they used to send him away. A magic unique to the earth pony tribes. Try as they might, Celestia and her court magicians could not duplicate it. Although Starswirl and Clover the Clever came the closest when they created a mirror that led to another world.

Realizin the importance of what our tribes were doing, Celestia deeded the land around the three known pillars to the earth pony clans that were guardin them in perpetuity. And whenever we found the location of the fourth we were to let her know.

She decided that for the peace and harmony of the races that we should keep our vigil a secret from the rest of the world. Still, word got out in some form or another, and the traditions of hiding away, and locking your doors on the night of the Long Night began to form. Celestia, in an effort to stem the tide of fear mongering, began the tradition of hosting a huge party in Canterlot on that evening, with every pony being invited to attend. Meanwhile, the three clans held their vigils at the North, West, and Southern pillars, while members of the others searched for the fourth.

It was during my pappy’s time that a scout finally found the fourth pillar, hidden deep in the Everfree Forest. Our clan immediately went to see the princess, and tell her of the news. She granted us the deed to our land here, and the Everfree itself, though we quickly realized that we couldn’t set our watch on the pillar any closer. It was far too dangerous. Apparently her and her sister used to have another castle deep inside the forest. We always suspected that it was something that happened when they lived there, that caused the forest around it to grow up so nasty and dangerous. But we never did find out what.” Granny paused a moment, lost in thought, before continuing her story.

“Anyhow, that was how the Apple clan came to be here. My Pa was a powerful strong earth mage, and with the help of his family and cousins, we cleared all the land around this side of the forest, set in wards deep in the ground, and planted what was later to be our apple orchard. The wards serve two purposes. They protect us from everything short of Mr. Gryfe himself, and they act as a lure to draw him to us should he appear from the pillar in the Everfree.

So ever since then, this has been both our home, and our duty. We stay on this land, in this place, just in case HE ever comes here. And we send him back to the void where he came from for another year. Do you understand youngin? We stay because that is how we fight him. We stand up straight and look him right in the eye and say ‘we are not afraid’. We earth ponies are the stewards of the land. We stretch forth our hooves, and bring new life with them, over and over again. Mr. Gryfe has been our enemy since the beginning of all things. He hungers for the spark of life that all living things posses. The strong can fight him off for a span of years, the weak succumb sooner. He comes for all of us sooner or later. Sometimes he is a gentle enemy, more often than not though he is a ravager.” Granny says vehemently. “We stay because that is what life does. Despite his best efforts to wipe it all out, Life comes back over and over again. We fight the fight of the doomed, but that doesn’t mean we give up. Life is the one great light in the darkness of the void, and it’s up to ponies like us to keep that flame burning bright. That’s our job youngin, that’s our duty.”

Well, I never heard Granny talk like that before. I mean every now and then she’ll use a stern tone when she wants the chores done. But usually she is funny, and sometimes silly. The pony sitting in Granny’s chair is talking like a character from my story book. Duty and destiny and such? That don’t sound nothing like my Granny Smith. I spend a few moments looking at the dark tide of critters running past my house before I turn back to Granny. I suddenly feel I need to ask her about her first Long Night. But as I look up and begin to speak I noticed she has dozed off in her chair. Now that is more like the Granny I know.

“All right sugercube, that’s enough questions for now,” Applejack says, opening the screen door. We can all talk some more after dinner. Y’all go inside and get cleaned up while Mac and I set the table for Granny. I reckon she can take a little more rest until we are ready to eat.” She says, gently placing a hoof on her shoulder, before going inside.

The rest of the afternoon seemed pretty normal. Well, normal if you take into account the occasional glance out the window at the still flowing tide of creatures scurrying past our house. Granny and sis were gossiping about this pony, and that pony. Occasionally brother would chime in with a ‘eeyup,’ or ‘eenope’. I still had so many questions I wanted to ask, but I had a terrible feeling that if I did it would shatter this island of normalcy that we seemed to be in. Outside, every living thing was fleeing as fast as they could. Before tomorrow night began we would be left all alone, far from any pony else. And sometime before midnight, Mr. Gryfe would begin his walk. Yet right here, right now, the four of us were sitting down and enjoying dinner just like we do every day, as if nothing in the world was wrong.

Looking back, I realize that that was part of the point Granny was making. She wasn’t going to give Mr. Gryfe one inch. And brother and sis seemed to be supporting her all the way.

Well, like I said, dinner was almost normal. After we took care of the dishes, and got cleaned up for bed, sister followed me up and came and sat with me.

“Applebloom. I know this has got to be hard to deal with. I didn’t want you to stay this year. I really wanted to wait at least one more year before you had to deal with this. And I sincerely hope that this of all years, Mr. Gryfe shows up elsewhere.”

“Applejack,” I hesitantly began. “How often does he come, Mr. Gryfe? Have you seen him before?”

Now you have to remember, my sister is the Element of Honesty. That isn’t to say she CAN’T lie, but she’ll do anything she can to avoid doing so. And, being her sister, I can usually tell when she’s trying to work around something. That was what she was doing now.

“One time.” She says, finally. “It was only a year or so after you were born. I was, just a little younger than you are now. That was the night...” here she paused, for a long time.

I could tell she was struggling against something. She wanted to tell me something, but something was holding her back. Making her fight against her naturally inclinations... her honesty.

Finally she forced herself to say something. It wasn’t anything I could have expected.

“That was the night he took mom away.” She said, gazing out of my bedroom window.

I was so shocked, my mind threatened to shut down. “Mom?” I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I-I can’t talk about that part Applebloom. I keep seeing it in my mind. I’ve tried to forget it, for so many years, what happened on that night. HE came. And he stole the life right out of her. All the years she had left to spend with us. All the experiences we will never have with her. HE came, and she fought back, and he took...he took...” sister was crying now, crying so hard.

She wrapped her hooves around me, and hugged me so tight I could barely breath. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to think. All I could do was hold my big sister, just like she always held me. All the years and fears, and hurts and scares. Always my sister would be there. So wise and strong, and fearless. And she would gather me into her hooves, and stroke my mane, and she would hold me until I was better. But as I sat there, stroking her mane, and hugging her back, I knew that there was nothing I could so or say to ever make my big sis better. That all this time, she had been hurting inside, she’d had a pain in her bigger than I could imagine.

Finally after what seemed to be hours, she calmed down. She lifted herself off of my shoulders, and looked at me with eyes filled not just with sadness, but something else as well.

“You know I love you Applebloom. With all of my heart. I’ve watched you grow into a beautiful young filly. You are strong, an smart, and ain’t afraid to stand up for yourself or your friends. Me and Mac and... Granny, why we couldn’t be prouder of how you turned out.” she says, wiping the tears from her eyes.

I was suddenly seized with fear. Fear and a terrible foreboding. I grabbed her by her shoulders, and looked into her eyes.

“Don’t talk like that! Don’t talk like you’re trying to say goodbye to me! I won’t let you!” I dug my hooves into her arms, trying to drag her to me. “You can’t leave me too! Not like... not like mom!”

I shocked her. I really did. For a second she doesn’t say anything, then...

“Don’t even THINK that way Applebloom! I’m not leaving you! And I sure as hay ain’t saying goodbye! By Celestia,” she says shaking her head at me, “is it so rare to hear a complement from me that you think the world is ending or something?”

I was too relived to, offer up a come back. It was like that moment in town, I was just imagining things. Sister just told me that she wasn’t leaving, and she’s the Element of Honesty. That means she CAN’T leave, right? Right?

Suddenly she begins tickling me. Even if I had been on my guard, there was no way I could have fought her off. Her onslaught was relentless, and didn’t end until she was sure I was over my ‘foolishness’ as she called it. She tucked me and kissed me goodnight, and then blew out the candle before closing the door.

I wasn’t ready to sleep yet. Too much had happened today, and I needed to get it all sorted out before I could finally get any rest. I quietly got up from bed, and made my way to the window. I had a wonderful view of the full moon. Thick clouds had begun to gather, but strangely they all passed around the moon rather than over it. It was like all of the animals as they passed around our house. Idly I wondered if princess Luna had cast a spell on the moon so nothing would keep it from view.

I turned my gaze downwards, and by Luna’s light I could see that the tide had slowed. No longer a carpet, you could now make out patches of ground here and there. Ground that had nearly been stripped bare by the passage of thousands of feet and hooves. The creatures that were now passing by would not be something I would have wanted to see from the exposed front porch. But from the safety of the second floor of the house, I was able to watch the spectacle without too much alarm.

Bears were the smallest thing that was passing by. And also the most docile. There were Ursa Minors, manticores, and small hydras to be seen. But although normally these creatures would cause me at least a small amount of fear, it was what else was crawling around that nearly tore a scream from my muzzle.

Spiders. Now even a normal spider is enough to cause me to cringe. But these spiders were far from normal. I don’t know what dark places in the Everfree that the reside in. All I know is that I NEVER want to go there. For one thing, the smallest spider was bigger than a full grown bear. The largest was almost the size of an Ursa Minor. For another thing, they weren’t scurrying in a nice neat line, trying to get away as fast as they could. No, they moved in fits and starts. They would pause for a moment, then move at lighting speed for a bit, then stop, then dart forward again.

Some would jump, rather than run. This really alarmed me, because they could jump higher than my window. I became really worried that they would just jump over whatever wards were around this farm, then crawl up to my window, see me, and decide it was time for a snack. I took a step away from the window in spite of myself. But then forced myself to move back. If somehow they did pass the wards, I would need to tell Applejack and the rest of the family as quick as I could, so I forced myself back to my unasked for vigil.

The jumpers were the most aggressive of the spiders outside. I watched as several of them began to jump into the tops of our apple trees, and then pounce on an unsuspecting bear. I’d seen what spiders do to flies and ants before. Farmers accept that sort of thing as part of nature. I spent a horrifying few minutes watching a part of nature I had no desire to ever see again. Unlike normal spiders that feed alone, as soon as the first spider had attached itself to it’s prey, all the ones nearby jumped into the feast as well. In almost no time all that was left of the bear was a desiccated husk.

I turned away from the sight of feasting spiders to look skyward once more. I gazed at the moon and the clouds, trying to let the images of bears mummies drift away as the clouds were doing. Suddenly the light from the moon was cut off. The entire sky was covered in blackness. Just as suddenly, a piece of that blackness detached itself from the sky and rapidly descended toward the ground. Then I saw, to my returning horror, that the blackness I spoke of, snatched up one of the larger spiders, and made it’s way back up into the night sky. Again and again a piece of the night would come down, grab an enormous struggling spider, and return to its migration.

I didn’t even know what they were. They weren’t bats. They weren’t moths. They just looked like irregular patches of midnight blackness. Pieces of utter darkness that would swoop down, and snatch up it’s prey before casually flying off. How many times had I been in the Everfree? How many times did I see a patch of shade, or a shadow, that seemed to move on it’s own? I used to think it was my imagination. How many times was it one of these?

It was at this point that I closed the drapes, and made my way back to bed. Sleep or no sleep I suddenly had no desire to learn anymore, and I silently promised that I would NEVER go into the Everfree again. Not ever.

How I managed to fall asleep that night I will never know. I do know that several times I woke up to what I thought was thunder, but quickly realized that it was far too regular for that. It took a few minutes to understand that it was the thud of some enormous beast fleeing the forest, it’s footsteps shaking the foundation of the house. By that point my mind was already saturated with the strangeness of it all, and I had no desire to get up and see what it was.

The next morning, when I awoke it was cold. Very, very cold. The clouds that had been rolling in during the night had brought with them an abundance of snow. Normally the pegasi from the weather bureau would have regulated this sort of thing, but this was they day before the Long Night, and the bureau was shut down until tomorrow. That meant that for twenty four hours, the weather was as wild as it was in the Everfree.

I wrapped my quilt tightly around myself and made my way downstairs. There was a roaring fire in the fireplace, which quickly warmed the shivers out of me, but no pony was anywhere to be seen or heard.

I stood there in the empty room. The only sounds I heard were the crackle and pop from the logs of the fire, and the creaking of house as it settled under the ever growing weight of the hard falling snow. I was alone.

Suddenly I was revisited by that feeling I had in the street yesterday. My chest started to tighten, the warmth of the fire receded as the color once again drained from the world. The feeling was nearly too horrible to describe. Imagine if you were suddenly cut out of the world around you. You could see it, but you were no longer part of it. Was this what it was like to be a ghost? Drifting through a pale world, devoid of color and life? Dear Celestia, what if it wasn’t the others that were missing? What if it was me? Had I died? Did one of the creatures make it through last night and kill me in my sleep? Or had I been dead all along, and just been imagining my life up until now? Is this reality? Am I just a fragment of memory, haunting a house?

Suddenly the door flies open and Applejack stomps in, all but yelling over her shoulder.

“I’m telling ya Mac, it ain’t gonna work. I don’t care how strong you are, it’s just too big to move.” She says, making her way upstairs.

“We ain’t got a choice.” My brother says in reply. “We can’t let it just lie there. It’ll bring HIM right to our door.”

I watch mutely as he follows my sister upstairs. As before, the shock of their return snaps me back to reality. All the colors and sounds return, and I sit in the nearest chair, (Granny’s), to keep myself from collapsing on the floor. What in Tartarus is going on? Before yesterday I never had feelings like this. What had changed? Is it some kind of illness? I mean I felt fine afterwords. Then I remembered what Granny Smith said about Pinkie Pie, and her Pinkie sense. She said that all us Apples had a touch of that. Was that what I was feeling? Is it some kind of ‘Apple’ sense? And if so, what does it mean?

My thoughts are interrupted by the return of my siblings.

“What’s going on?” I ask, as they come downstairs carrying all of Applejack’s rodeo rope.

“There’s a problem,” Applejack says, her face grim. “One of the creatures from the Everfree got attacked last night. It isn’t dead, but it’s dying, and it’s going to be a slow death. We need to get it away from the farm. As Rarity would say, ‘this is the worst possible thing’, cause if anything would cause Mr. Gryfe to head our way, it would be this.”

“I see.” I said as I began to follow them out the door. “But... well, if it can’t be saved, wouldn’t it be best to... you know... put it out of it’s misery?” I ask uncomfortably.

It’s a sad thing, but when you live on a farm, it’s something we all have to deal with eventually. Nothing lives forever. Not pets, not chickens, not us. Every so often there’s a chicken or animal that just can’t be healed. And when a creature has nothing left but suffering, well, you do what needs doing. We don’t enjoy it, and we try to be as quick and merciful as we can, that’s part of the respect we have for nature.

“We can’t,” Applejack says bluntly. Before I can ask her why she adds, “you’ll see.”

A few moments later I did see. And I really wish I hadn’t. Because right there not fifty hooves away from the edge of our wards, being held up by the remains of two apple trees, was a fully grown hydra. Well, MOST of a fully grown hydra. A huge piece of it’s tail was missing, and two of it’s necks were broken, and it had an enormous gash across it’s belly.

Looking more closely I could see that one of the two trees wasn’t actually propping him up, he was instead, partially impaled upon it. The ground all around him had deep gashes and furrows in it. And the snow nearby was soaked with both green and red. Whatever he had been fighting must have been the victor, because we could see vast clawed footprints bigger than Big Mac’s entire body trailing off westward.

All of this was secondary in my concerns however, because what was holding most of my attention was Granny Smith. She was right beneath the hydra, and as I approached one of the two fully functioning heads was heading straight for her. I drew in a breath to scream a warning, but it was too late, quick as a flash the head was erect once more, but with something in it’s mouth. A moment later I realized what it was, as an empty barrel came falling to the ground to bury itself into the fresh snow.

Looking around I could see the imprints of two other barrels, as Granny slowly made her way back to us. I’ve never seen her look so sad in her life.

“That poor, poor, critter,” She said, lowering her head, her ears drooping in sorrow. “I did everything I could, but in the end all I could do was to make sure it doesn’t feel any pain until the end.”

It was then that the smell hit me. Whatever it was Granny had mixed up in those barrels, must have gotten sloshed all over her. I could make out a few of her ingredients from their unique scents. Essence of Poppy, Chamomile, and several others. Not for the first time did I wonder why Granny’s Cutie Mark was a pie, when she had so much skill as a herbalist. I mean I hardly ever remember her baking a pie, that’s usually Applejack’s thing, but she’s all the time mixing up herbs and poultices. None of us ever stay sick for long thanks to her.

I shook my head a bit. Granny probably just used her entire stock just to ease the suffering of a full grown hydra. Her poor, poor, critter, would probably like nothing better than to make us all it’s last meal. But that wasn’t how she saw it. To Granny ANY creature that was suffering deserved her help.

“Youngin, I know what yer up to with that rope, but it ain’t gonna do you any good.” Granny says, shaking her head sadly. “He’s wedged in there tight, and the minute you try to move him, it’s gonna cause him a barrel full of pain. Right now he’s getting drowsy, best just to leave him be. If’n you rile him up again he’s liable to bite you in half.”

“But Granny,” Applejack pleads, “we can’t just leave him like this. Come nightfall it’ll bring Mr. Gryfe straight to out door.”

“I know darlin, I know.” Granny says, as she makes her way back to the house. “It was probably meant to be. We’ll just have to deal with it as best we can when the time comes. I’m going to lay out the spread, and then lie down for a spell. I reckon I’ll need all my energy if push comes to shove tonight.”

Applejack just looked after her retreating form. I never seen her look that way before, like someone just tore out her heart. She knew something. Something she STILL hasn’t told me. I turned back to face the hydra once more. Granny was right. Poor thing. It didn’t deserve what was happening any more than we did. I watched as its heads drooped to the ground, and it closed its eyes. The rising and falling of its chest told me it was still alive. I can only hope that whatever dreams it was having were good ones.

I looked around once more. The snow was coming down harder, and it was getting colder. I realized then that there were no more animals coming out of the forest. That meant that the entirety of the Everfree was empty. We were all alone. Four ponies and a dying hydra, surrounded by a soon to be impassable sea of white and cold. I shuddered to myself. Even if I had the fool idea to try to run back to Ponyville right now, I would never make it. And even if I did it would be deserted by now. Maybe a few holdouts, but even they will have their homes locked up tight. No, we were on our own.

Sixteen hours until midnight. A little over eight hours until sunset. Seven and a half hours of darkness before midnight. That didn’t sound all that long, but I knew I would be counting every single minute. Why was everpony else so calm about all of this. Even the hydra hasn’t made them panicky. Why am I the only one wound up tight as a coiled spring? Are they THAT used to this? What in Equestria has been going on year after year? Applejack said Mr. Gryfe has only been through here once before, why are they acting so... so... resigned? That’s it. That’s what I’m seeing! It’s like they have already given up, and are just accepting the inevitable. Goddess, why does that scare me even more.

Applejack looks up at the hydra once more, and then calmly coils up her rope. Brother whispers something to her that I couldn’t hear, causing her ears to droop.

“C’mon Applebloom,” she says to me, “let’s all get ready to eat.”

I turn and follow them back inside, glancing over my shoulder for one last look at the now sleeping hydra. It was then I realized that I too, had come to accept the fact that the poor thing was soon to die, worse, not just to die, but to be taken by D-... Mr. Gryfe. I did not yet know what the difference was, but I was soon to learn.

Once back inside I made my way to the fireplace to warm up. Granny was already busily setting out the traditional food for the Long Night. Candied fruits, nuts, and especially pomegranates were always served. Traditionally you could eat all day, and elaborate spreads often had as many as forty different types of foods. I loved pomegranates, and eagerly got up to spoon myself a large bowlful before I settled in back in front of the fire.

Once everything else had been laid out, and everyone had some food, Granny came and sat in her favorite chair and began to speak to us.

“Well, here we are, once again. Now I know all of you are worried ‘bout that hydra drawin trouble to our door. But I reckon I ought to come clean about something.” She says, popping a pomegranate seed in her mouth. “See, it wouldn’t really matter if that critter was there or not. There’s a reason everything is set up the way it is. Our closeness to the forest, the wards. It’s all fer one reason. Each year Mr. Gryfe is gonna pick one of the pillars to manifest at. When he does, the first thing that will catch his attention is one of the Apple family’s homes.

I wasn’t exaggeratin before when I said we were the stewards of the land. Ever since we learned what happens on the Long Night, there has always been an Apple standing vigil ta keep Mr. Gryfe from having his way.”

She turned to face Applejack.

“You were too young to understand what I was doing the last time Mr, Gryfe showed up here. And neither you nor your brother has the ‘talent’ for it anyway. Mac, he’s got his little touch of it, knowing what needs to be where before something bad happens, but you sweetie, you’re as dense as a post when it comes to earth magics.” Granny says to my sister, as her face begins to cloud up.

“Now listen up good. All of you. Sometime between dusk and midnight, Mr. Gryfe is probably gonna pay a call on us. If he does, I’m going to go to the door, and send him away. Don’t none of ya’ll say or do ANYTHING ta draw his attention. And for the love of Celestia, DON’T be distractin me. It takes a lot out of a pony ta do what I need ta do, and I can’t afford ta make any mistakes, cause I ain’t strong enough ta do it twice. Ya’ll git me?” she asks in her ornery voice.

We all said that we understood.

Granny gives us a sad smile. “No, I don’t reckon that you do, not really. Let me explain to you about Mr. Gryfe. He’s always with us, every single day. Even while he has a body here, things are still dying all the time all over the world. But what he does in those hours when he takes a form, isn’t like something dyin on it’s own. He doesn’t just kill tonight. He steals. Let’s say he found a pony like Mac out in the woods tonight. Now a big strong pony like him, why he’s probably got over half his life left to look forward to. Now imagine if all that life was like a book. What Mr. Gryfe would do is to rip out all the pages between tonight and the end of the book. All those years, all those experiences, all the things that would happen to him before he normally would have died, he cuts them out, and eats them. They no longer exist anymore. And Mac, right before he passes away, would be the Mac at the last page of that book. He might have some vague notion of what he lost, but the experiences themselves would have all been fed into Mr. Gryfe. He steals futures, is what he does, and he can’t help it. It’s the only time he can ever feel anything, in those brief moments as he devours someone else’s life.”

I sit there, trying to understand what Granny was telling me. I can tell that Mac and sis are thinking hard about it too. Granny obviously didn’t want to tell either of them about anything to do with Mr. Gryfe, not no more than she absolutely had to. In a moment of insight, I realized that she must be expecting things to get very, very, bad for her to be telling us all this now.

“And WHY are we just now finding out about this part?” Sis asks in irritation.

“Well, I reckon I just hoped that ya’ll would be older before he came back. He almost always shows up at the North Pillar, and they have gotten used to how to deal with him up there. For all I know, maybe that’s the reason things are getting bad here. Maybe he thinks he can get out and have his way. O’ course that would imply that he’s able ta learn, an that could be a big problem. See, our little traps work because he always does the same thing every year. He shows up, follows after the nearest living things, and then we lure him into a trap. By the time he manifests, every other critter has already had the sense ta leave. Our kin are always sure ta be the nearest living things to the Pillar. That’s why I was extra sure ta have Zecora invited RSVP ta that big shindig in Canterlot. Last thing I need is for her pulling Mr. Gryfe her way.” Granny mutters this last bit to herself, but still loud enough for me to hear.

I think about this for a moment. Zecora should have been warned. Family secrets are all well and good, but not when somepony’s life could be at stake. I am about to say so to Granny, when suddenly the room darkens. I move with everyone else to the window. Outside, although the snow is lessening, the clouds overhead have darkened to almost black. It was still several hours before sunset, but looking outside you would think that twilight was fast approaching.

“This isn’t right.” Granny says in a worried tone. “HE’s messin with the weather somehow. Breaking the rules. He’s bringing an early night.”

Granny stares out the window a look of shocked dismay on her face. She clearly wasn’t expecting anything like this to happen. What this meant for us, I had no idea, but it couldn’t be anything good.

I stared out the other window, not really sure what I expected to see. Well, that’s not true, I actually expected to see Mr. Gryfe step out of the forest at any second. Part of me was terrified at the idea. But part of me, deep down, wanted to see it happen. Wanted to see something beyond the world around us, something that had no real explanation. Something scary, something primal. I suppose there is a part in all of us that want’s that. Something deep down, past the fight or flight response.

I stared out that window with searching eyes. Moments later I did see something, but it wasn’t anything I was prepared for.

Right at the edge of the forest I could just make out a sort of flickering. At first I thought it was a trick of the falling snow. But then the flickering resolved into a shape. My heart skipped a beat in my chest. This was it, there HE was. The living void. Death. But then, more flickering occurred. Two, three, five, a dozen, and then more shapes flickered into existence. What was this? What was I seeing?

Slowly the figures began to move away from the forest. Their movements seemed erratic. At least at this distance, and they seemed to just wander aimlessly in all directions. Well, all directions except back toward the forest.

“What are they?” I asked aloud, surprising myself at the sound of my own voice.

“I don’t rightly know,” Applejack responded, unsure.

We both turned toward Granny Smith, who had made her way back to her chair by now. She looked so small sitting there. As if the advent of the darkened sky had diminished her somehow.

“This ain’t right... ain’t right. HE’s breaking the rules... He’s learning, oh Goddess... he’s learning,” Granny said, mostly to herself, her eyes darting pensively back and forth.

I looked back and forth between my brother and my sister. We were in uncharted waters, with no map or guide. Sudden fear gripped my heart. All these years earth ponies had been doing this. Over and over. Over and over, and every time it worked they got more and more confident, and less and less afraid. And now four ponies were trapped alone out in the middle of nowhere, and Death had just changed the rules. Suddenly the arrogance of ponies made me bark out a laugh, causing all three of my family members to look at me with concern. This only caused me to begin giggling, which I assume didn’t help matters at all.

I couldn’t help it, even a filly my age could see it, how foalish it was to try to make Death do what you wanted. And her I was, out on a limb my family took me to, nowhere to run, no way out. I believe I had begun to unhinge a little bit at that point. Enough so that Applejack came over to me and began to stroke my mane.

“Hush, hush sugarcube, it’s going to be okay.” She said. I looked up at her and nodded.

I desperately wanted what she said to be true. She’s the Element of Honesty, right?

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Big Mac’s eyes widen, as he looked out the window. Buffered by the comfort my sister was giving me, I dared to look outside once more. Several of the shapes had moved closer to the farm house, close enough so that we could make out what they were.

I’m going to try to put this down right, but I don’t know if it will make any sense. Some things, there just ain’t words for. This was one of them.

At first we thought they were ponies. Ponies that had somehow come through the forest, fleeing Mr. Gryfe, like everything else. But as they got closer, we saw that that wasn’t quite the case. They looked... faded. Like they had been washed, clothes and all, too many times. Their eyes, their manes and tails, everything looked all faded and washed out. And I don’t know what they were looking at, but it wasn’t us. But it was more than any of that. They didn’t look... whole. It was like each one of them was a picture of a pony. Just one instance worth. When you looked at them they seemed... incomplete.

Then something happened that I will have nightmares about for the rest of my life. One of them found the hydra. Now you’d think that a critter that large would be the first thing you saw coming out of the forest. But whatever these ponies were seeing, like I said, it wasn’t what we did. One of them just drifted closer to the hydra than the others. Once it got about twenty hooves away it just stopped dead in it’s tracks. It cocked it’s head sideways, like a deer listening for a sound, or a dog catching a scent. Then it made a bee line directly for the trapped and sleeping hydra. Not running or anything, just drifting toward it, unerringly. Once it got to the poor beast it... oh Celestia, I really don’t want to think about this part...

What it did was reach out a hoof, just like Applejack would when picking an apple, but instead it effortlessly tore off a piece of the hydra, just pulled off a chunk like Pinkie hoofing a hoofful of cake. Then it put the bloody piece to it’s face, and inhaled. Not just with it’s nose, it used it’s whole face. Nose, eyes, mouth, everything. It just drew in... I dunno what, from what it held. ‘Everything’ is the best I can describe. The color, the essence, the vibrancy of what it held, it just sucked it into it’s face.

Suddenly the pony /thing looked brighter, more well defined. More than that it was like it was seeing what was around it for the first time. It tilted it’s head back, looking up, and up and the hydra, who despite having a small piece of itself removed, was still asleep. Without a word the pony thing began to repeat what it had done, tearing out another piece, and inhaling the life from it.

What ever it was drawing out, it must have had a heady ‘scent’ to it, because as we watched, all the other pony things had begun to drift toward the hydra as well. Soon, all but a few of the furthermost away had joined in on the gruesome feast.

I turned away from the window, trying desperately to forget what I had just seen. A horrible bellow made me jump straight up, and nearly pee myself right there on the floor. The poor hydra had finally woken up, and had begun to thrash about, as best it could. I covered my ears with my hooves, and closed my eyes, trying to shut out the terrified bleats of the trapped animal. The sounds seemed to go on forever, until suddenly, all at once, they stopped.

I knew I had to turn around. But I dreaded what I might see. Finally I drew a deep breath and did so. I expected to see those... pony things, continuing their gristly feast, but it seemed that as soon as the hydra finally expired, they lost all interest in it. There were around two dozen of them, some now looking almost alive, others were in various degrees of paleness.

One of the brighter, more well defined of the creatures was looking around at the farm, as if seeing it for the first time. Then, it caught sight of me through the window. It stared right at me. I could see it’s brow furrowing in concentration... almost anger. It begin to walk straight toward me. My eyes grew wide, and a scream tried to force it’s way from my lungs, only to come out a squeaky gasp as my throat constricted in fear. Oh sweet Goddess, it sees me! It sees me! It’s coming for me! It knows I am here!

It began to pick up it’s pace, first a trot, then a gallop, it was coming for me as fast as it could. Then all at once, it seemed to strike something and fall to the ground. It must have been the wards! The ones Granny told us they scribed into the ‘bones of the earth’ as she said.

The pony thing angrily rose to it’s hooves once more. It tried to move forward again. Once again it was stopped as if it was up against an invisible wall. It glared at me with a look so filled with hate I nearly passed out. How could anything radiate so much rage? It was then I noticed that it’s antics had drawn the attention of the others, which all now began to converge on the spot where the first pony thing was standing. Thankfully, just like him / it, they could go no further.

I was startled from my observations by the sound of the front door creaking open. I whipped my head around to see Granny Smith rapidly leaving the safety of the house. Alarmed Big Mac and Applejack got up to follow, and not wanted to be left alone, so did I.

It was always surprising to see how fast Granny could still move when she wanted to. By he time I got out the door, she was already almost to the barrier. We were catching up to her just as she arrived in front of that pony/thing that was glaring at me, only now his hate filled gaze was fixed solely on Granny.

Granny on the other hoof, had paled, and shuffled right up to the creature. She looked up at it, her eyes searching, and said only one word, but it was clearly heard by all of us.

“Papa?”

For whatever reason, her voice broke some fragile peace, because all of the pony things began to frantically pound against the barrier of ancient earth pony magic. The one in front of Granny had raised back his hoof and struck the barrier so hard it made a sound. If that invisible shield of magic hadn’t been there it would have taken Granny’s head clean off.

As it was, Granny just stood her ground.

“Papa,” She repeated, “Papa Cider, it’s me! It’s your little Blossom... Papa!” Tears began forming in her eyes, all the while the creature she called Papa Cider kept pounding away at the nothing that was holding him back. If anything, Granny’s words seemed to be making it worse, as with every cry of ‘Papa’ the creature became angrier.

Applejack and Big Mac finally got over their shock, and had begun to pull Granny back away from the edge.

“Granny, that ain’t him!” Applejack yelled, “that ain’t Papa Cider! That’s just some kind of cast off, a revenant. Papa’s gone!” she said, as Granny struggled against her.

“I know he’s gone!” Granny shouted back. “Think I’m senile? Of course I know he’s gone. But look at him. It’s still a part of him! A part of Papa. He’s right there! Am I just supposed to pretend he isn’t?”

“It’s a trick!” Mac says, surprising us all. “It’s Mr. Gryfe trying to trick us. Eeyup. You saw them things eat the life out of that hydra? That’s what they want to do to us. Mebbe they are what’s left of the ponies he gets a hould of, mebbe they are just shells. But Granny, that thing trying ta bash yur head in AIN”T YOUR PAPA!” Mac finishes in a shout.

All of us were stunned silent. Maybe once in my life had I heard Mac use a stern tone, but never had I ever heard him yell at anypony before. This seems to finally reach Granny though, because she suddenly sags in their hooves.

After a moment, she draws in a deep ragged breath and speaks.“I know young’in, “She says quietly, “I know. Ya’ll can let me go know. I got my head back on straight.”

Mac and Applejack exchange a look, before releasing Granny.

“Thank ee son,” She says to Mac patting him on the arm, as she slowly makes her way back to the barrier.

I keep my thoughts to myself. More and more recently I’ll hear her calling Mac son, and me and AJ her daughters. I know when a pony gets so old, that they can become forgetful. It made me sad to think that was happening to Granny. Pokey Oaks was Granny’s papa. But she was calling out the name of her long dead husband.

To be honest, I have no memory of my own mom or my pop, other than their names. It may be different for AJ and Mac since they were old enough to remember what they was like, but I guess, to me, Granny was always the mom of the house.

I watched as she approached whatever it was, that looked like the pony she knew. This time she wasn’t all emotional. She just looked at him, like she was studying the weather or something. Then she began to slowly trot along the barrier, looking at the other pony things that were frantically pounding away. Occasional she would stop and look real hard at one. Anytime she did, the creatures would redouble their efforts, pounding against forces unseen, over and over.

“I know what they are.” Granny said as she came back to us, ignoring all the commotion behind her.

“Tell us Granny, what’s going on?” I asked, before anyone else could.

“Those are what’s left of the ponies that were taken by Mr. Gryfe.” She said, matter of factly.

“Ghosts?” Mac inquired.

“No Mac, they ain’t ghosts, not proper ones.” Granny said sadly. “More like fragments. I done told ya how when Mr. Gryfe takes some pony directly, he takes all the pages out of his book. This is what happens when all the pages are gone. Those sad things out there are just shells, tryin ta fill up the empty space where their pages used ta be. That’s why they looked more real when they ate up the life from that hydra, they tried ta fill in some of the blanks with the life they stole. I reckon they must follow around where Mr. Gryfe goes, tryin ta snatch some life away. Like carrion birds following a lion pack.”

“You called that one your Papa,” I said pointing at the pony she had gone up to.

“Aye darlin, that there is all that’s left of my dear Pa.”

“But you called him Pappa Cider, That was grandpa’s name wasn’t it Granny?” I asked, with no little embarrassment.

Granny pauses for a minute and looks all flustered. “I’m sorry youngin, I reckon it was the shock of seein him after all this time. I must have got my names mixed up. Getting old... too old. But yes darlin’ that’s all that’s left of my Pa.

Mr. Gryfe took him when I was sixteen years old. Your great great Grandma is out there too, and your great uncle whom none of you have met, but used to live near the south pillar. There are a couple of others I recognize from pictures too. We’re powerful lucky the wards are keeping them out. They were never originally designed for something like this.” Granny pauses a moment in thought. “Or mebbe they were, way back when they were first created. I dunno, that was way before my time. Could be that the founders knew more about this than we do anymore. I won’t lie to ya youngin’, there’s things we do in a certain way, that none of us know why anymore, traditions and such. Looks like there’s a good reason to. If’n we live through this, we have to pass word along to the other three clans. This is something they need to know.”

“You mean WHEN, we get through this.” Applejack says forcefully.

“Of course, sorry, my mind is wanderin all over the place, just a slip of the tongue.” Granny says hastily.

Applejack and Mac approach the pony that used to be their great grandfather. Hesitantly, I join them. His brow is furrowed in rage as over and over again he raises his hooves to pound on the air before us. He’s wearing a checkered shirt, and a beaten leather hat, which looks to be made from manticore leather.

I study his face. Were it not contorted in rage, it would be a handsome one. His piercing blue eyes stare straight at us, fully aware of us, but not as family, only as a source of food.

As I crept nearer to him, I began to feel an icy coldness in the air. A chill far deeper than that of the winter afternoon around us. Although the sky had gotten unnaturally dark from earlier, it was still light enough to see by, just as if it were truly twilight, but the closer I got to the pony lich, the darker my vision seemed to become.

Suddenly my vision flip flopped again. All the world around me became washed out and pale once more. Everything except the pony thing before me. But instead of it seeming brighter, what I saw made me recoil in terror. There was no pony before me! It was a pony shaped hole into pure blackness. It raised a hoof shaped hole and brought it down against the barrier between us. I saw the tiniest of electric blue sparks where it made contact with the still unseen ward.

I couldn’t bear to look at the thing, it was as if every fiber of my being recoiled from it’s existence.

I turned, and when I did I saw Granny looking right at me. But she didn’t look like Granny, she looked like another pony entirely. She looked about ten years older than Applejack was, very beautiful, and somehow, oddly familiar… but not ‘Granny’ familiar. It was like she was some other pony I had met once before. Her eyes had a funny green tint to them, then she reached out a hoof, and touched my shoulder, and my vision snapped back to normal.

“Well,” she says, “I reckon I figured out what Pinkie was talking about.”

“What was that Granny?” Applejack asked, as she and Mac turned to face her. Apparently they had been caught up in studying their great grandpa, and hadn’t noticed my zoning out.

“Sorry youngin’, just talking to myself,” she replies evasively. “I’m going back inside, there’s a chill in the air that ain’t good for my arthritis, and I don’t reckon we’re done by half.” She says, before turning and trotting back inside.

“I’m getting worried Mac,” Aj says, “None of this is goin like it’s supposed to. And Granny is behaving odd, even for her.”

“Eeyup,” Mac agrees, and we all turned to follow her back inside, leaving the remnants of our ancestors, as they silently continued to try and kill us.

The mood was pensive as we all gathered around the dinner table. We occasionally popped something in our muzzles, more out of habit than hunger. Granny finally broke the uneasy silence.

“Well, there’s no sense tryin ta sugarcoat it. We’re in a bad way. Mr. Gryfe fer whatever reason isn’t playing fair this year. Changin the weather, bringin them remmey-nants, this isn’t how it goes. He’s just supposed ta come, an try to get in, an then we send him somewhere else. Now there’s no telling what’s going ta happen before midnight.” Granny says, sounding lost. “But I can’t believe he’d just ignore us, and pass us by. Sooner or later he’s gonna be coming, and when he does the most important thing is that we get rid of him. Now I don’t want none of ya’ll ta interfere when he comes. I don’t want any of ya’ll ta end up like my papa. Besides, I’m the only one of us with the right kind of gift ta get rid of him anyway.”

“What are you talking about Granny?” I asked, “what gift?”

“Earth magic honey, real earth magic. Once every generation one of us Apples is always born with the gift. The gift of the green. It’s a special magic that can use the inner power of anything that grows from the earth. With it I can make sure Mr. Gryfe won’t hurt any pony this year. But only when he tries to come in after us. Till then, we gotta hold on and endure whatever he sends our way.”

“But what if we can’t?” I say, a feeling of dread lying like a stone inside me.

“Oh darlin, we HAVE to.” Granny replies. If he gets by us, then he will sweep across the land, stealin the lives of everypony he comes across. He’s a bottomless pit, no matter how much he eats he won’t ever get full, an the more he eats, the more he’ll want. No sweetie, we have to stop him here. That’s what Apples do.” She finishes resolutely.

“But why does this have to happen?” I all but wail. “What about Twilight? What about the princesses? Why don’t THEY do something?”

Granny looks at me, and for the first time her expression is one of anger.

“Sometimes ya’ll make me wonder!” She says, her voice turning bitter. “There are three tribes of ponies, not counting them alicorns. Pegasus all take care of the weather, that’s what they were put here to do. Unicorns work the grand magic, teleportation, transformation, an the like. That’s what they have them horns for. An them alicorns are all avatars of one of the great guiding powers. The Sun, the Moon, Friendship, Love. They are guided by the powers that reside inside them. They each have their own job.

An then there are us earth pony’s. Since the dawn of time we’ve had the hardest, and most important job of all. We are the stewards of the land. We foster life. We spread it, and help it grow. We represent life itself. And that’s OUR job. An you sit there an talk about shirkin our duty! How many earth ponies did you see out there? None of them tried to turn and run. The stood up an did what was right, even if it cost them something that no pony should ever have to give.

You’re scared, I get that. I’m scared, your brother an sister are scared. But sweetie, right now we ain’t got a choice. If any of us want to live to see the sunrise, then we all gotta pull together. An we need all the help we can get. Can I count on your help, will you do whatever it takes?”

I look at Granny, and I don’t know what I’m seeing. Is she a frail old pony, or is she an iron willed matriarch? Either way, there’s only one answer I can give her.

“Yes, Granny. If you need me, I won’t let you down.”

She smiles at me, causing her wrinkles to stretch. “I know darlin, I know.”

Suddenly, a howl of wind tore through the house. Sending bitter cold air through every crack and crevice causing us to shiver. As one we looked toward the window. Outside the sky had darkened further, almost as black as midnight. We made our way to the windows once more and looked out. All of the pony liches had stopped moving, and were just standing there, as if they had suddenly turned into statues.

The wind continued to howl it’s way out of the empty forest, blowing stronger and stronger. Then we saw it, deep within the boundaries of the woods. A blueish white glow was being cast. As we watched the glow grew brighter. We realized that whatever was causing it was moving through the forest, in our direction. Moments later a shape broke free from the confines of the woods. It was a pony, holding aloft a lantern. The light that we had seen was emitting from it.

“The Herald.” Granny said in a near whisper. “So Gryfe IS coming here tonight.”

“The Herald? What’s that Granny,” I asked in a whisper of my own.

“The Herald? He’s the servant of Mr. Gryfe. Legend has it that ages and ages ago, he was one of us. But instead of doing his duty to banish Mr. Gryfe, he made a deal with him. A pact. In return for sparing his family line, he pledged his eternal service to Gryfe.” Granny shakes her head. “How he was even able to speak to Gryfe, let alone bargain with him has always been a mystery. It’s like talking to a hurricane, or a tornado. Gryfe is a force of negation. It shouldn’t have been possible. But the truth is standing right there in front of us.”

I stared at the pony at the edge of the wood. His skin was black and wrinkled and hung off his bones like rags. His coat was gone, as was his mane and tail. His cutie mark was a simple pony skull, but it glowed with an ethereal light, that matched the lantern he carried. He was looking our way. By the light of his lantern we could make out the sunken orbs of his eyes. Unlike the liches at the edge of our yard, the Herald’s expression wasn’t one of hate or rage. Instead his lidless gaze was one of utter sadness and despair.

He held his lantern high, and began to approach the farmhouse. Granny went to the door, opened it and stepped out once more. Alarmed, we all followed.

“Granny, can he get in?” I asked, watching him approach.

“No child, he’s a servant of Mr. Gryfe now. To pass through the wards, he would have to give up the power that keeps him alive. And even if he wanted to do that, he wouldn’t, because that would break the pact, and all the ponies from his family line would lose their lives. As long as he’s been alive, he must have thousands of descendants by now. Every year that goes by, Gryfe’s hold over him grows stronger and stronger.” Granny says sadly.

The Herald approaches the barrier, and stops. Granny approaches from our side and stops less than a hoofspan away.

“Greetings matriarch of the Apple line. Sadly our fates intertwine once more.” The raspy voice of the Herald declaims.

“Greetings to you Herald. I morn for you, and your duty.” Granny says, and then reaching beneath her shawl, she pulls forth a bright silver flask, and tosses it to the Herald, who catches it with practiced ease.

The Herald unscrews the cap, and takes a long pull from the flask in his hooves. For the barest of moments, a smile flickers across his muzzle.

“Matriarch, your kindness brings honor to you, and lessens slightly the burdens upon my soul. I can only pray that the coming of my master will bring you less pain than before.” The Herald says, before taking another long pull.

Granny looks briefly pained, but then resolute once more.

“Herald, I know it won’t do no good, but I have to ask. Is there no way you can lead him to another pillar this year? Our youngest is with us for her first Long Night. We had no way of knowing Mr. Gryfe would chose this of all years to return.” A note of pleading is in Granny’s voice, it does not go unnoticed by any of us, the Herald included.

“Nay matriarch, in sorrow I must tell you that I cannot. But know ye that he comes here at this time for a purpose. Thy line has withered, unlike those of the north pillar, and those of the south and west. My master comes to break free from the chains the living have imposed on him since the founding of your tribe. He comes in the fullness of his strength, and I see that yours has ebbed. Truly my heart will be saddened if you line fails this night, for he has raised these others to sweep across the land with him. Beware them, for where his servants go, he is there also. Know you that every piece of life they take, will go to feed the master himself. For they are but extensions of his will.”

“I see.” Granny says, looking across toward the pony that used to be her father. “I had always thought there were rules to how this all worked. But tonight he’s changed them. Will he do anything else we are unprepared for?”

The Herald pauses a moment in thought.“No, matriarch. And yes, there are rules which govern the forces of the void, just as there are those that govern the light. What he does this night shall have... consequences. But those are not your concern. If you and your line are to survive, you must endure as you have always done. And know you that more lives hang in the balance this night, than ever before. I beg you, muster your strength and courage. You must not let my master pass.” As we looked into the withered face of the Herald, we saw the glisten of tears cast by the light of his lantern, as they fell down his cheeks.

“Herald, as we have asked before. Will you not take the solace we can offer?” Granny says, not unkindly.

“Oh matriarch, with every fiber of my being I yearn to say yes! But my line still endures, and so long as but one still lives, I cannot abandon my duty.” The Herald says sadly.

“How... how many?” The words escape my mouth, before I can halt them.

The Herald turns his aged face toward me for the first time. “Know ye young Bloom, that the blood of my line now numbers three hundred and fourteen thousand, seven hundred and fifty four. And the number grows every year. I could not bear even one falling to the unkind hoof of my master. So long as even one of my line lives, I am but a hostage to him, and forced to be most loyal.”

So many lives. I can’t even image the weight of a burden like that. Forced to spend lifetimes working for a living hunger. Watching who knows how many ponies meet their end, and never being allowed the release of death. How long could a mind bear up under such a thing before it broke? Before madness would claim him. And yet the Herald, sadden though he was, seemed to be as sane as any of us were this night. I felt so sad for this poor thin pony. Whose only crime was to want to save his family from being turned into unliving husks.

“I-is there anything, anything we can do for you?” I ask, wishing nothing more than to ease his burden.

Before I could say anything further, he cocked an ear, as if hearing a call that none of the rest of us could.

“Yes, young Bloom. I ask but one thing. That somehow, you find it in your heart to forgive me.”

And then, quick as lightning, his hoof shot out across the barrier, seizing Granny by her shawl. I watched, frozen in horror as the color began to fade from Granny’s flesh, her eyes beginning to glaze. Then Mac was there, striking downward with his hoof, to try and break the connection.

The hoof of the Herald shattered into pieces all the way up to where it had passed through the ward. I looked downward at the desiccated flesh as it rapidly turned to dust. Mac made as if to attack the Herald, but was stopped by the weakest of voices.

“W-wait, Macintosh.” Granny said from where she had fallen. “Stop. It isn’t his fault.”

Mac cast a glance back toward us. I had never seen his face so filled with rage.

“Mac.” Granny said softly, as she rose to her hooves once more, some of the color returning to her face. “Mac. It wasn’t his fault. He has no choice but to do what Mr. Gryfe tells him to do.”

I look back over at the Herald once more. His right foreleg is gone up to the knee joint. Despite whatever unearthly magics keep him alive, I can tell that his pain is terrible.

“Look at him Macintosh,” Granny says, her voice filled with sorrow. “He tried to warn us. He told us that where his servants go, he is there also. And he has paid the price for his loyalty. He broke a rule. That wound will never heal. This is how Mr. Gryfe treats his servants, nothing but tools to be used until they break. Don’t hate him Mac. Pity him. For he suffers more than any of us.”

Mac gives him another look, but the rage has left his eyes. He turns his back on him, before speaking. “I won’t hate you servant. But I won’t forgive you neither. Best you be on your way...”

“Would that I had never come here.” The Herald says bitterly. “But all my choices were taken from me long, long ago. Gird thyself matriarch. For the master, he comes.” And with that he placed the lantern on the ground before him, it’s light casting its glow upon us and the farmhouse, and without another word, the Herald simply vanished.

“Help me back to the porch Mac. Gryfe, he done tricked me good. Caught me off guard like a foal.” Granny complains, as Mac and Aj help her to the porch. “He’s goin all out this year. But he’s not as smart as he thinks he is. He used the Herald ta try an steal as many pages outta my book as he could. But the Herald is only serving him because he HAS to. He could’ve drained me dry, but he only took as little as he possibly could an still obey his master. If we’re lucky, that made all the difference.

Now ya’ll get back inside. It won’t be long now before HE shows up. An I need ta be the one he sees. The one ta draw him in. Till then I need ta focus on getting myself ready for him, so don’t none of ya’ll be distractin me, hear?”

We reluctantly agree, and move back inside, settling at the windows once more, as Granny braces herself in the doorway, and closes her eyes.

Moments later my vision flip flops once more, as the color once again fades from my view. I look outside, and all is blackness save for the blue white glow from the lantern. I glance inside, and my eyes go wide as I look at my Granny. Once again she looks so young. Once again she looks like a completely different pony. I can just make out her cutie mark, and it’s different too. Some kind of flower. She’s braced in the door frame, and a bright green aura is emitting from her. It flows into the freshly cut reynir of the door frame, causing it to glow as well.

This new version of Granny has her head down, and her eyes closed, and seems to be speaking under her breath. Whatever she is saying doesn’t sound exactly like words, even though they have structure. Whenever she speaks, the glow brightens and pulses, the emerald light reflecting off of the pale panes of window glass. This emerald glow called to me. I could feel a connection to it from deep within my soul. The more I stared at Granny the more I seemed to understand what she was doing. That green glow was life. And it was all around us everywhere. It was just so faint that no pony could see it. Granny was drawin it into herself, and then pushing it into the wood of the door frame. And the wood was soaking it up like rain.

That’s something that most pony’s that aren’t farmers wouldn’t understand. When an animal dies, it dies, and that’s it. But if you cut a plant, it only dies a little bit at a time. If you put a cutting of a tomato plant in water, it will grow into a whole new plant. Seeds brought in at the end of harvest are dried and can be used next year, or even later. Plants can come back from everything but being full out dead. And the reynir of the door frame wasn’t nowhere near fully dead.

I watched in amazement as new shoots began to form around the door. It was earth magic. Real earth magic. And as I stood there looking at Granny, I could feel how she was doing it. It seemed so simple. Why haven’t we been doing this all along? There must be a reason. I focused as hard as I could as Granny continued to mutter to herself. I realized that the words were just her way of focusing herself, they didn’t mean anything to anypony but her. I watched as the green of life was drawn into her from the world around her, I watched as it came out of her hooves into the wood.

Then I saw it. It wasn’t just the life force of the world around her that was flowing outward. Her own was mixed into it as well. Parts of Granny’s own life were inextricably interwoven with the flow coming from inside her. This was why she didn’t use this power until now. She was draining her own life away into the wood of the door frame.

Sweet Celestia! THIS was what somepony did every year? Every year somepony was out there giving up a part of his life to stave off Death? This was crazy! A gasp from Granny brought my focus back upon her. There was a dark patch on her chest that I hadn’t noticed before. It was where the Herald had struck her. It sat there like a black lump. I looked at the mark and realized that the emerald glow that was present everywhere else on Granny wasn’t there. Or rather it seemed to be at the edges of the mark, and then seemed to get sucked into the blackness.

Goddess! That was what the Herald had really done to Granny. He hadn’t been trying to steal her years at all. The reason he attacked was to put that mark on Granny! That mark was draining off some of the life energy that Granny needed to send into the door. But Granny told us... wait, she told us that so we wouldn’t worry! Granny was trying to reassure us that it was going to be all right. But that means that she doesn’t really believe that at all. She didn’t tell us for a reason....

Suddenly I could see it all in my mind. She was going to stand there, glowing like a beacon, drawing in Mr. Gryfe. Then at the last second, she was going to dump ALL of her life energy into the doorway, sending Gryfe away for another year, keeping the rest of us safe... at the cost of her own life!

No, no, no! I can’t lose Granny! Not like mom. Not to HIM.

Suddenly, the sound of a hunting horn cut through the air like a knife. Then everything fell silent. I turned my head slowly toward the window once more. Dread approaching horror, took hold of me as I reluctantly gazed outside. There, at the edge of the woods, framed in the light of the moon from a now empty sky, there, there he was. DEATH.

I didn’t know what I thought I would see, but the reality was more terrifying than anything I imagined. He stood there, unmoving, the cowl of his hood empty, except for two tiny pinpricks of blue white light. One foreleg was slack at his side, the other was outstretched, and in his hoof was a great black scythe. He stood there for a timeless moment. All the fears and terror of my entire life were a joke compared to what stood silently at the edge of the forest. This was the living void. There was no mercy under that hood. There was no pity. There was only hunger. Ravenous, insatiable hunger. My living self recoiled instinctively from the sight of him. Before us was a being that wanted to destroy us completely, no more, no less.

My new eyes were no better than my old ones as I looked at him. All I could see was a blackness. A pony shaped absence that was darker than the night around it. Then, without preamble, the creature began to move. One step at a time, first a trot, then a canter, now it was galloping. Galloping straight toward us!

Goddess what were we doing! We can’t stop THAT! It was a universal force, and it was running right at us. I wanted to run, but I knew it would be useless. Even Rainbow Dash couldn’t out run what was heading toward us. I glanced away from it, back into the living room. Applejack and Mac were frozen in place. The force falling upon us was more than the will of good ponies could face. We were going to die. We were all going to die!

I looked back to Granny, still standing there, still pouring life into the door frame. Then, I noticed the barest of flickers from inside the open doorway. I blinked, but as I looked I saw it once more. The gateway to the void was trying to form. I whipped my head around to see how much time we had. To my horror I saw that Mr. Gryfe was nearly to the outer ward! He would be at the door in less than a minute!

Granny was struggling as hard as she could, to make the portal open, but as I gazed at her, I could tell that she had peaked. He strength was beginning to falter. She wasn’t going to make it in time!

Without thinking, I lept from my chair, and scrambled to Granny as fast as I could. I planted myself in front of her. My diminutive form slipping easily under her outstretched hooves. I glanced up and saw that Mr. Gryfe was nearly to the porch! I slammed my hooves outward into the door frame and screamed as loud as I could. “OPEN!” Pouring all the life I could muster into the wood, just as Granny had been doing. The portal began to flicker open, right in front of my face, then a bony hoof thrust it’s way through, brushing my forehead as it tried to reach Granny. The shock of that contact caused a convulsion of life force to escape me into the wood, throwing the portal wide open. The hoof that had been reaching past me had vanished. As had Gryfe himself, then the portal winked out of existence, and all we saw outside was the snow laden ground sparkling under a full moon...

It was over. We did it... We had won!

I felt two hooves gently wrap themselves around me.

“Oh you foolish, foolish filly.” Granny said softly in my ear. “What have you done girl? What have you done?”

I turned around, one hoof still holding onto the door frame for support, before raising myself upright. I looked for Granny, and for a moment I didn’t see her. Then I looked down. She was now shorter than I was. Wait, no, she was still the same size as Applejack... I was... taller? I looked down at myself. By Celestia! I was big! I looked at my hooves, they were bigger, older looking. They looked almost like Granny’s did, but with less wrinkles. Aj and Mac were staring at me in shock.

I didn’t like that look at all.

“Would somepony please bring me a mirror?” I asked, in a voice that wasn’t my own. That wasn’t an exaggeration. The voice that spoke had none of my accent. It was a prim and proper voice. Worst of all, it sounded old.

Applejack had returned with a mirror that we shared when we brushed our manes. I held it up and got a good look at my face... It was all I could do not to drop the mirror.

I was full grown. Full grown, and by the look of it, passing my prime. My eyes had the beginnings of wrinkles in them, and right from the center of my forehead there was a streak of hair running thru my mane that was pure white. I turned to check my tail, and got another shock. I had my cutie mark.

There on my flank was a branch holding two apple blooms upon it, just opening. I reeled for a moment, before falling into a chair.

This is what happened when Mr. Gryfe brushed me with his hoof. He stole my life. Or as Granny said, the pages out of my book. As I sat there trying to understand, I could feel the ghosts of memories whispering in my mind. Events of the last who knows how many years. Events that never happened. Never WOULD happen. It was like suddenly a ‘me’ from the future had been dumped in my place, with almost no memory of her life before she got here. Even my inner voice was different! I was thinking with a larger vocabulary, and more ‘seriously’ for lack of a better word. Was this what Gryfe had done to my mother? I turned to ask Granny, and suddenly all sorts of things fell into place in my new, expanded, mind. I stared at her wide eyed, unable to speak, my mouth hanging open.

“What is it child?” She asked, her voiced filled with concern. Motherly concern...

“M-Mom?” I stammered the question.

Her eyes widened briefly. Then after a moment of indecision, a smile played across her muzzle.

“Yes sweetie. It’s me. It’s mom.” My ex-Granny, now mother, replied warmly.

“Oh... oh momma!” I cried, leaping up and crushing her to me in a hug.

“Calm, down, calm down youngin’,” she said soothingly, as she stroked my mane. “It’ isn’t like you just met me for the first time.”

I continued to hold her, the tears falling down my cheeks. This was why she looked different when my eyesight changed, and when she called Mac ‘son’, and her Pa ‘Cider, it wasn’t a mistake... Wait...

I opened my eyes and looked at my two siblings, even though I was now old enough to be their mother.

“You two... knew?” I asked.

“Eeyup,” Mac replied, sounding stoic as ever, despite the tears in his eyes.

“After mom saved us that night,” Applejack began, “she ended up lookin like she does now, minus about a decade or so. Well, aside from Celestia an Luna, no pony outside the Apple clans knows what really goes on during the Long Night. So mom thought up a story about how she had to leave, and how she sent back our Granny to take care of things around here. Almost no pony, never thought no more about it, ‘cept that they were sad that our momma had to leave. You were too young to trust not to say anything about it, barely a toddler, so we let you believe the same thing every pony else did.”

“Wait. You lied to me? The Element of Honesty lied to me?” I said incredulously.

“No, Applebloom I never did.” Applejack says, with a sly sort of smirk. “Everything I ever told you about your mom was true. An everything I ever said about Granny was true. And since she herself was callin herself ‘Granny Smith’, then me callin her that was true as well.

“That’s just about the most warped version of honesty I ever her of.” I retort.

“But it’s still, strictly speaking, the truth.” Applejack responds.

“Hrmf. But wait, what about her cutie mark?” I say, pulling back from Granny and looking toward her flank.

“Well, at first we had to dye it,” my mother responds. “Later on Celestia gave me an illusion spell I could turn on and off. Heh, truth is I can’t remember the last time I didn’t have it on.”

She waves her hoof over her flank, and the pie that was covering her real cutie mark vanishes. Instead there is a single, perfect, apple blossom looking proud and full. I stared at it for almost a minute.

“Pretty ain’t it?” my mom says with pride. “I would say I wish you could have seen Appleblossom in her prime, but lookin at you now, you could be the spittin image of myself. Well... maybe you’re a little older.” She says with a wink.

I couldn’t help it. I laughed. It was so absurd. My Granny was really my mom. I, the youngest, was old enough to be Applejack’s mother, and Applejack was now the youngest. The rest of my family looked at me worriedly, until I explained this to them, then they too joined in my laughter.

After it all died down, Granny... I mean mom, put on her serious face.

“Aye sweetie, we are one very messed up family. But there’s something we need to discuss before everypony starts coming back tomorrow.” Mom says, looking worried. “We can’t let no pony know what went on here last night. And that means, that you can’t be here when they all come back. You’re going to have to leave Ponyville. I’ll arrange for you to stay with Breaburn in Appleloosa. You can send letters back to your friends. We’ll have to come up with a story for why you had to leave on such short notice. Maybe ta help one of the nieces with her foals...”

Mom kept talking, working out a tale that would sound believable. As for me I had stopped listening. Leave Ponyville? Leave the only home I ever knew? Leave my friends, leave my family? I just now got my mother back, and now I was supposed to leave her? No! No! Absolutely not!

“I’m not going!” I say, interrupting mom’s dialog.

Mom stops speaking and looks at me sadly. “Honey, I know. I know what I’m asking. I’m asking you to give up your life, but we have no choice. The Apple family have kept to the duty since the founding of our clan. And part of that duty is to keep it a secret. I know that I’m asking far more than any pony should ever ask of a filly of your age, but sweetie, there isn’t any choice.”

Suddenly, Mac of all ponies speaks up. “What if there was?” We all look at him in confusion. “A choice that is?”

“Mac, son... if you have an idea, I’d really like to hear it.” Mom says, trying to draw out the words from the least chatty pony in Ponyville.

“Well,” Mac begins slowly, but picks up steam as he goes. “You done said it yourself. Mom, she already looks like Granny. That’s who she is to everypony else. Well why can’t Applebloom be Appleblossom from now on? I mean, we tell everypony that our mom has done come back. Applebloom doesn’t look hardly anything like she used to what with the faded hair, an white streak, an them wrinkles...”

“Thanks so much ‘SON’” I reply with sarcasm. “I DON’T look old! Just... old-ish...”

“Point is,” Mac continues, Just have Applebloom write them letters to her friends like she was gonna, and send ‘em to Braeburn. Then have Braeburn take ‘em outta that envelope and mail ‘em back to Ponyville. No one’ll be the wiser. Hardest part will be figuring out what to tell everypony ‘bout how our ma showed up right as Applebloom left.”

I ran this all through my mind. I hated the idea of deceiving all of my friends. But I hated the idea of leaving them all behind even worse. Mac’s idea could work. I wouldn’t even need to disguise my cutie mark that much. Yes, I could see this all working. But there was one thing I needed to do, otherwise we’d have to drop the whole thing.

I went up to my sister and gave her a hug as well.

“Sis, if I start calling myself Appleblossom... will you be okay with that?” I ask.

Applejack mulls it over in her head for a few moments. “I can handle that much,” she admits finally. “If that’s how you wanna be called, then that’s who you are. But there’s no way, in all honesty, that I can call you ‘mom’.” She says, reaching up and ruffling my mane.

“Aww c’mon sis, you KNOW how I hate that!” I yelp, pulling back. Then I reach across and snatch the hat off of her head, a feat I could never do yesterday.

“Hey, give that back consarnit!” She snaps at me.

I hold it up, just out of her reach, then I toss it over her head to Big Mac, who deftly snatches out of the air. As Applejack turns and makes a grab for it, he tosses it back to me.

“That’ll teach my girl to get uppity with her ma!” I say, holding the hat well out of reach. “You youngin’s need to learn respect.”

The next thing I realize the hat has been torn out of my grasp. I turn and see mom, standing on a chair behind me, grinning from ear to ear. It was then that I realized that we were all acting like foals. But given what we had just survived, it was probably just what we needed. We’d work out all the details tomorrow. For now, I was just glad that we were still together.

All of us.

Author's Note:

I was born on a farm up in Amish country. Ephrata Pennsylvania to be exact. Not Amish ourselves, we were still exposed to the folklore and traditions of both the Amish, and the Amish Mennonites. Add to that my own family's culture, that being Pennsylvania Dutch (which isn't at all 'Dutch' like Holland Dutch. It's Dutch as in 'Deutsch', meaning German), and you had a pretty good mix of superstitions and beliefs.
Reynir is the Old Norse name for Rowan. The information concerning the folklore about it in the story is, as far as I know, accurate. And yes if you have a bumper crop of rowan berries, you can expect a harsh winter.
Most Christmas traditions date back to the pagan Scandanavian and Germanic holiday of Yule. A twelve day winter solstice festival. Many modern Christmas traditions, such as the Christmas tree, the Christmas wreath, the Yule log, and others, are direct descendents of Yule customs. Scandinavians still call Yule "Jul". In English, the word "Yule" is often used in combination with the season "yuletide" a usage first recorded in 900. It is believed that the celebration of this day was a worship of these peculiar days, interpreted as the reawakening of nature. The Yule (Jul) particular God was Jólner, which is one of Odin's many names. The concept of Yule (Jul) occurs in a tribute poem to Harold Hårfager from about AD 900, where someone said "drinking Jul". Julblot is the most solemn sacrifice feast. At the "julblotet", sacrifices were given to the gods to earn blessing on the forthcoming germinating crops.

The Service of the Longest Night, sometimes also known as a Blue Christmas Service or Service of Light, held on or around the eve of the winter solstice (around December 21) in the northern hemisphere, is a modern Christian religious service designed to temper the struggle with darkness and grief faced by those living with loss.

The Dōngzhì Festival or Winter Solstice Festival (Chinese: 冬至; pinyin: Dōngzhì; literally: "the extreme of Winter") is one of the most important festivals celebrated by the Chinese and other East Asians during the Dongzhi solar term (winter solstice) on or around December 22 (according to East Asia time). The origins of this festival can be traced back to the yin and yang philosophy of balance and harmony in the cosmos.After this celebration, there will be days with longer daylight hours and therefore an increase in positive energy flowing in. The philosophical significance of this is symbolized by the I Ching hexagram fù (復, "Returning").

Shab-e Yaldā ("Yalda night" Persian: شب یلدا‎) is an Iranian festival celebrated on the "longest and darkest night of the year," that is, in the night of the Northern Hemisphere's winter solstice. Calendarically, this corresponds to the night of December 20/21 (±1) in the Gregorian calendar, and to the night between the last day of the ninth month (Azar) and the first day of the tenth month (Dae) of the Iranian civil calendar. In pre-Islamic Zoroastrian tradition the longest and darkest night of the year was a particularly inauspicious day, and the practices of what is now known as "Shab-e Chelleh/Yalda" were originally customs intended to protect people from evil during that long night.People were advised to stay awake most of the night, lest misfortune should befall them, and people would then gather in the safety of groups of friends and relatives, share the last remaining fruits from the summer, and find ways to pass the long night together in good company. Food plays a central role in the present-day form of the celebrations. In most parts of Iran the extended family come together and enjoy a fine dinner. A wide variety of fruits and sweetmeats specifically prepared or kept for this night are served. Foods common to the celebration include watermelon, pomegranate, nuts, and dried fruit. These items and more are commonly placed on a korsi, which people sit around. In some areas it is custom that forty varieties of edibles should be served during the ceremony of the night.

Comments

[Butterwings]

Pegasus never stayed on the ground during the Long Night.

Oh, so only one pegasus never stayed on the ground.
Pegasi, maybe?

[DJ-Mad-3]

Wha..? Like.

[Mister E]

6202963 Thanks for catching that. Looked over the story again, noticed it twice more. Fixed.

[Saint Henry The Pig]

6203646
Absolutely, positively, insanely, Amazing Story....I forever will love your story and call it one of the best on this site...I bow to you, a Sevant of Insanity

[Utopianking]

Wow. This had a good ending, but man did it scare me. You painted a great picture of those events. I may have found a story to read on Halloween and on the solstice.
On a side note I thought that you had included pomegranate due to its connection to the Greek Underworld.

[Mister E]

6203804 Thank you very much!
After my little experiment with a Hellsing Abridged inspired story, (which bombed badly, despite me personally thinking it was hilarious), I was hesitant of attempting another story that was outside of what people were used to from me. Seeing the positive response I have gotten so far, I may just have to write a few more like this. There are still quite a few dark places I could shine a candle into...

[Mister E]

6203856 Ironically, I had just sent a pm to Naturalbornderpy, wondering if the story was scary enough.
I had actually forgotten the story of Persephone until you mentioned it. I was so focused on solstice lore, that it had slipped my notice. Odd, considering I used to be a Greek pantheon buff, and I happen to love pomegranates.

[moonchosen]

I really liked this story a lot, it conveyed just the right amount of suspense and terror, with the perfect amount of build-up to it. There is one plot-hole I'd like to point out though. Alicorns are meant to respresent the power of all three pony races, including earth ponies. That means, in theory, they should be able to use earth pony magic too. In which case, Celestia, Luna, Twilight, and Cadence really could have made a difference after all.

[CommisarSilver]

Well written. I'm not so sure about how the alicorns don't or are not able to combat death given that are a combination of all three races.
That said iit wouldn't have been as tense if they could.

I'd love to see what kind of complications/reprisals will happen to death for its bending of the rules. I don't know how one punishes a primal force but there are rules that even death usually follows then there must be one heck of a rule enforcer.

[Mister E]

6207535
6207450 (Thank you for the fav, btw!)
It is true that alicorns do have the ability to use Earth Pony magic. And although alicorns are very powerful from the combination of the three tribes magic, that wouldn't necessarily mean that they were as powerful as each tribes best magician in their own element. Much like Rainbow Dash can perform a sonic rainboom, and Celestia can't, the same could be said for certain rare unicorn, and earth pony abilities.

[moonchosen]

6209612 Hmmm, that makes sense actually. It's also like how Starlight Glimmer knew a spell for removing cutie marks, a spell that not even Twilight Sparkle herself was aware of. A spell that could even affect alicorns. I'm curious what kind of effect Death's touch would have on an alicorn. If the theory that alicorns live forever is true, then that would mean they have a limitless "number of pages in their book", correct? So would Death's touch have any effect on them in that case? Same question for Discord, since he also seems to possess immortality.

[CommisarSilver]

6209612 Ooh Fair point! It's kinda like a the various cutie mark talents.

[Mister E]

6210338 I was thinking the same thing at work today. How many pages would it take before Death became more than just a living hunger? And if he considers an earth pony wizard a blue plate special, then an alicorn would be an all you can eat buffet. I had already wrote down a few ideas for 'The Herald's Tale', this is worth considering as well.

[Retiredwriter]

>>moonchosen That theory would likely, but this story really describe what allows alicorns or Discord to live as long as they have. And it never really says if Death steals a person's life force or their youth.
>>Quixotic Enigma
Which is something I'd like to know about, Death's draining abilities that is.

[Evilpresident]

Good story and an interesting twist at the end. Didn't expect that to happen

[Mister E]

6213599 Good to hear from you again RW. I'm putting some notes together for a possible sequel called 'The Herald's Tale'. In it I was planning on shedding some light on my version of 'Death', and also who The Herald was. Here's a hint, he has a very famous sibling. I should mention that Longest Night, and The Herald are not set in the same universe as DFR and Dots. Right now Sin Whinny may be set in the DFR universe, I'm not sure yet.

[Mister E]

Here's some trivia for those people, like myself, that read the comments.
The name Mr. Gryfe comes from the lyric's of a George Harrison song Crackerbox Palace.
"Sometimes are good, sometimes are bad, that's all a part of life, and standing in between them all... I met a Mr. Grief, and he said 'I welcome you to Crackerbox Palace... was not expecting YOU'..."
And the image of him in the video would certain scare a young filly.

Further trivia. That song was inspired by a meeting with the Real Mr. Greif,(pronounced Gryfe), at a music festival where he remarked that he resembled the late comedian Lord Buckley (Harrison had admired Buckley for many years). As chance would have it, Greif was Buckley's former manager, and he invited Harrison to come see Buckley's old Los Angeles home, which he called "Crackerbox Palace". Thinking that the phrase had the makings of a song, Harrison jotted the words "Crackerbox Palace" down on a cigarette pack, and later wrote the song. The song includes references to Greif ("I met a Mr. Greif") and to Lord Buckley ("know that the Lord is well and inside of you").
Video below.

[Noctus Umbra]

6205446 No worries, this was so well written I got chilled by the first few lines. As the story progressed the world became more and more real to me until I could feel the winter's chill at the climax. If I were to be inspired to write a story based off something like this, would I have your permission to have a few similar rituals and use Gryfe's name?

[Mister E]

6432207 Sure, be my guest.
On a similar note, I wouldn't turn down an "Inspired by' line in the credits if you felt like it.

[lordofmyth]

Interesting story, but it has a rather large flaw at the end.

Why nto tell anyone when they now have personal connections to Celestia, one who has the power to save them from all this?

[Mister E]

6585792 Celestia did know. That was why there Apple Family was there. There were earth ponies living near all the pillars, just so they could banish Mr. Gryfe for another year, if he showed up there.

[Murder Knight]

Holy -. I can't remember the last time I genuinely felt afraid from a story. Usually, I would give my criticism at the end of the story, but I just can't get over how tense I still feel.

[Mister E]

7426607 Thanks! Equestria Daily said they would feature it after I fixed a few things they didn't like. I plan to get around to doing that, hopefully before Halloween, but I have no plans on changing the story itself. If anything, it would be fleshing out a few details. Glad you like it so far. And thx for the fav as well.

[Neece]

Excellent story. A lot on that have been said already, so I'll not beat the dead pony.

On the world building, superb work. The pride in carrying the burden "alone" is rather touching in how human it is. And rather cruel, too. They actually forbid others from trying to fight. I severely doubt there are NO other means to fight Death. Specially a world where unity is power and friendship is magic. Of course, that doesn't mean it would be easy to find such way. Much death would come before they found a way, and quite some despair when all ponies found out about it. But it would most likely work. Eventually.

The apples did something quite wrong, though. They let only four ponies to fight off death. And they do, apparently, Jack shit to create more life mages. Relying on mere luck for them to be born and "awake" in time for them to act. Extremely irresponsible, in the name of tradition, it target, pride. In a way granny herself calls upon that, when she mentions how she didn't know the wards could stop others. They let the knowledge be lost, and paid the price for that.

Again, that's an extremely humane behavior, enriching the story that much more

6210338 although the Celestia/RD example is good, the starlight glimmer one is not, I believe. An unicorn whose cutie mark itself is magic and that ascended as the Alicorn of magic (for friendship is magic) not being the mightiest unicorn caster is just plain wrong. More relevant, the show has shown that spells are knowledge. Power is not everything off you don't know how to properly use it. Twilight's power could be yen times greater that starlight, if the unicorn knew more efficient/powerful spells she could go toe to toe with the Alicorn. Such as knowing a cutie mark removal spell.

Of course, that does raise the question, are any of the two sisters ascended from an earth pony, if not born as amalgamations? If not, that could explain why they couldn't help. They didn't have that oomph needed for life magic (like twilight has for unicorn, being born an extremely powerful one herself).

[Mister E]

7692814 Your correct about the Apple's pride. There are other branches at the other pillars that could send the Apple family some support if they would ask for it. I don't think Granny would actually risk Death escaping for the sake of her pride if she had thought that they couldn't handle it, but as Applejack has proven in 'Applebuck Season', it can be very difficult for them to see beyond themselves sometimes.

[Composer99]

There was a spelling error in there somewhere, but I've forgotten where it is. Oh, well.

Anyway, actual comment:

Great story. Reminds me of the way Terry Pratchett characterises certain holidays in the Discworld as having far more ancient (and cruel) "stones and bones" (as it were) than one might think.

It's an invocation of a more primal age, when the dark of winter was no mere result of orbital position and axial tilt, but was fraught with peril, mystery, and terror.

6216807 The Mr Greif character in the video is not a quarter as terrifying as the statuary of the baby-eating monk.

[Mister E]

7693887 Sir Terry was one of my all time favorite authors. He will be missed for a long time. I think they got 'Death' just right in the live action version of 'Hogfather'. (That's Terry Pratchett at the end as the store clerk).

[Vibrant lies]

Love the story, but what exactly happens at the other pillars when HE doesn't appear there? Also spelling:

The stood
is is
and albino
me us.

They
Only one
An
Met

[wlam]

This one was really hard to take seriously. It's so overwrought, it veers into the funny. When Granny went "oh my god, he's learning" I really just wanted to go "Clever girl..." and start giggling. Apparently, Pony Death is actually Galactus and he even has his own Pony Surfer. For some reason. It's a better idea than execution, doesn't help that all the characters will start getting randomly eloquent and intensely verbose just in time do dump another bit of exposition. "Granny Smith" randomly puts her accent on and off like it was an old sweater. ...huh, that idiom really doesn't work in English.

Anyway, better idea than execution, but if ignore the parts where the individual character voices basically disappear and it descends a bit into purple prose, the writing is pretty solid and technically proficient, so there's that.

[Mister E]

7771049 Technically proficient?
First time I've ever been accused of that.
Thx.