Their Very Own Suns

by Blank Page

Chapter 15 - Hollow Victories

The Warriors of Sunlight paused on a hill past the outskirts of Manehattan, all eager for rest. One by one, they found themselves next to the tree Applejack parked her trailer next to, joining the Mare in the Moon as she looked down upon the Manehattan skyline.

Gertrude offered to take the first watch, long before anyone else thought it necessary. She stationed herself further ahead and slightly down the hill, far enough away that she was certain the others wouldn’t see her nervously fidget. Her eyes scanned the sky, hoping to find Gilda or Galahad or both. With a joyless snort, Gertrude told herself she would even take Grady.

But the sky was empty, save for Nightmare’s airship. It circled over the bones of the abandoned district like a vulture, hauntingly quiet.

Of all the griffons who came to Equestria, she found it a bitter irony that she was the only one to escape Manehattan. She wasn’t big or strong like Grady; in fact, she might have been the smallest of the griffons that were left. She didn’t have the fiery motivation of Gilda, and she wasn’t cool under pressure like Galahad. Compared to the others, she felt so… ordinary, and now it seemed this extraordinary quest was thrust on her shoulders alone.

The stare of the Mare in the Moon took on a new weight. Gertrude could feel her scrutinizing gaze fall upon her, measuring her for her worth. She felt herself shrink beneath it as her body trembled. Her eyes tore away from Manehattan to look at the others, and she wondered if any of them had ever felt this feeling.

Solaire was sitting with his back against the tree, his eyes closed as he tried to simply enjoy the coolness of the night air. The heat of the dragon’s breath was still fresh on his mind, and his skin could still remember it all too well. Before they had stopped on the hill, he had shed his chainmail shirt and, for the sake of modesty, replaced it with his tunic. His arms welcomed the chance to breathe, and with the weight off his body, Solaire found himself capable of truly resting for the first time in a truly awful moon.

Twilight sighed and fell in a defeated heap next to him. She and Applejack had found it fruitless to convince him to stay inside the trailer until they were further from Manehattan, but Twilight couldn’t blame him. This moon was long with far more excitement than it had any right to bare. She would admit that feeling the grass beneath her hooves again did have a relaxing effect on her.

“I’m sure Solaire knows what he needs best,” she reasoned tiredly to Applejack.

The salesmare watched as the two nearly slumped against each other on the tree she had stopped by. Getting Solaire alone to return to the trailer was a daunting task in and of itself, but he seemed to have dragged Twilight down to his level, and Applejack knew better now than to attempt separating them.

A slight breeze tugged at her tattered dress, and a heavy blush burned beneath her cheeks. Twilight had already noticed, and Applejack caught another stray glance from the unicorn again. Applejack silently cursed the thestral that had exposed her. She was hesitant to return inside her trailer to change; the Warriors had already disappeared once behind her back to run off on an adventure. She reasoned that brief history wouldn’t repeat itself, though. After all, this time she had a lookout to watch over them.

Her eyes flicked briefly to the griffon and saw that she was staring back at them. Applejack’s thoughts drifted to Gilda, a stranger she had never met until this moon. She had hoped the griffon would have returned by now. The fact that she hadn’t… Applejack could feel a pain in her heart. Gilda had briefly spoken of friends, and the mare worried this newcomer was waiting for Gilda’s return as well.

They both tore their gazes from each other, and Applejack made her way to the door of the trailer. As it swung open, Twilight called out to her, and against her own better judgment, Applejack lingered, knowing already what the unicorn was about to say.

“About earlier…” Twilight started carefully.

Applejack shook her head and closed her eyes. At least from this angle, Twilight couldn’t see it. “I won’t hear of it,” the salesmare said grimly, but her message was misunderstood.

“I didn’t mean to stare,” Twilight confessed, hoping her friend knew she was sincere. “With everything that happened tonight, I just thought—”

“I know,” Applejack cut in tersely. She hesitated in the doorway as she considered apologizing, but Twilight took it as an invitation to continue.

“If… If it helps, I kind of understand,” she offered sheepishly. “I was the last in my class to get mine.”

Applejack sighed. She couldn’t fault Twilight for pressing; it was Applejack’s fault for keeping such a secret under lock and key. But this wasn’t a good time. Everypony was exhausted, and she couldn’t find it within her to dredge up the past.

“That’s all well and good, dear Twilight,” she said tiredly. “But as you were the last to get your cutie mark, I still am.”

Twilight pulled her attention to the grass before her as Applejack disappeared into the trailer, watching the blades bend as her hoof traced a circle in the ground. Her lips pressed into a firm line as the door closed, and she shook her head to nopony in particular. What was she thinking, pushing like that?

“Forgive me, I do hate eavesdropping,” Solaire apologized softly next to her.

Twilight nearly jumped with a start, having forgotten she wasn’t alone. She craned her head back and found Solaire watching her curiously. His eyes flicked once to the carriage before returning to her.

“Is everything well with Applejack?” he asked.

She almost didn’t know how to answer. After a hesitant second passed, Twilight nodded her head. “She’s… fine,” she tried to assure him. “I think I accidentally found a sore nerve, though. She…” Was it right for her to tell him? Something twisted in her throat; it felt like gossip. “She doesn’t have her cutie mark yet,” she explained quietly.

Solaire hummed and nodded, but his patient stare wasn’t satisfied. Twilight had come to know this as Solaire’s reaction every time she tried to explain something he couldn’t quite grasp. With a weak chuckle and an apologetic smile, she scratched the back of her neck, trying to find a better way to explain it to somepony like him.

“Cutie marks are… special to us,” she started. “Most of us spend a lot of our foalhoods trying to find ours. And when we do…” A warm smile crept upon her in spite of the previous mood. As she spoke, she became reminiscent of the day she had found hers. “It’s the happiest day of our lives,” she continued. “It means we found something… a special something that makes us different from everypony else, a talent that nopony else can do better.”

Solaire tried to push a knowing smile, but Twilight could see in his eyes that she was only leaving him with more questions. She never boasted herself to be a good teacher. Perhaps it would have helped if he had an example. She leaned away from him, exposing her side to the moonlight.

“Here, take mine for instance,” she offered, pointing to the strange symbol on her flank. It was a six-pointed starburst in a deep magenta, sharply contrasting the light purple coat that surrounded it. Some patches of fur around it were stark white, and Solaire thought them to be a similar shape, albeit a mere fraction of the size.

“I didn’t always have that,” she explained knowingly. “It kind of just… appeared one morning, same as a lot of ponies.” A faint blush showed beneath the fur of her cheeks. “Well, maybe not exactly the same,” she admitted. “I was up late one night studying for a test in magic school, the final test of the year actually. All the other unicorns had found their cutie marks throughout the lessons and tests, and I was worried that if I didn’t get mine this time, I’d be a blank-flank forever.”

She winced inwardly, thinking of Applejack, and Solaire gave her a questioning look.

“Somepony who doesn’t have a cutie mark,” Twilight explained quietly. Clearing her throat, she continued with a normal volume. “But like I said, I was up late studying, and I… may have fallen asleep in the middle of it. I don’t know what I was dreaming about to have caused it, but I must have cast the spell in my sleep… along with just about every other spell I had studied that semester.”

She gave him a sheepish smile as she tried to list all that had happened that day. “Books were flying like birds, one of my bookshelves had shrunk to half its size, Mr. Smartypants may have turned into a cactus, but in all the chaos when I woke up I realized I got my mark! The only problem left was undoing everything,” she chuckled. Her eyes drifted down to her flank, and her warm smile never left. “It shows I’m good with magic,” she claimed proudly. “It may be a little ambiguous; I still don’t know just what about magic I’m good with, but it’s my proof that I am good at something.”

Twilight glanced up to Solaire. “Does… does that make any sense?” she asked. “Do you have something kind of like that?”

Solaire was absently rubbing his palm against the center of his chest, as though he could massage away the mark that had branded him there.

“Of a sort… perhaps,” he offered. Grim thoughts invaded his mind, memories of countless deaths and reawakenings. The Darksign that cursed him burned beneath his skin. There was no need to burden Twilight with this knowledge though, lest her fragile smile be shattered away.

It was so easy to focus on the hopelessness of the curse, but Solaire had promised himself long ago that he would find the light within it. After all, it was his choice to seek it, and if he had not sacrificed himself long ago and reawoke to the curse, his pilgrimage would have never begun. He never would have seen the birthplace of Lord Gwyn. He never would have met that stranger from the Undead Asylum. Most of all, he never would have been summoned by Twilight to aid in her quest. He may have been cursed to one day go mad, but tonight he felt blessed to be in such company, to have such warm memories.

“Your ‘cutie marks’ do sound more pleasant, though,” he admitted with a soft smile.

His gaze drifted back to the Manehattan skyline. Far above, the strange ship in the air had broken its circular track and was drifting south. With the curse on his mind, Solaire mulled over his experience this moon, the near-fatal brush against the dragon, the troubling words Twilight’s brother had spoken to him.

He realized now why they had bothered him. Solaire’s personal quest was dangerous by nature. It was not a question of if or when but rather how often he would die. He could lie to himself and say that death no longer bothered him, but what of Twilight? It occurred to him that she was inexperienced with dying, that this world was untouched by the curse of the Undead. Her brother’s words echoed in his mind, so protective of her even though they were at odds with each other.

A terrible thought squirmed in Solaire’s mind. He pursed his lips, realizing he couldn’t assure himself on his own, and ventured to call out to his summoner. “Twilight?”

“Yes?”

How could he word it? It pained him to even ask. “Should I give you the opportunity to abandon our quest… would you accept it?”

“Solaire!” Twilight shot up to her hooves, unbelieving of the words she had heard, of who she had heard them from. She studied Solaire’s face, trying to decipher what could have possessed him to ask. He wouldn’t look back at her, but his brow was furrowed as he stared off to the horizon. “Why… Why would you even ask that?” she demanded. The pain in her chest was creeping into her voice. “After all we’ve been through, why do you think I would want to give up?”

Solaire’s response wasn’t immediate. His jaw moved as he struggled to find the correct words. “Recent events have opened my eyes,” he confessed. Finally, he turned to her. They were at eye-level with each other, and he wouldn’t have preferred it another way. “As I think back all those nights ago when we first met, I fear I may have thrust this quest upon you. To help you find your sun… I thought it was destiny that you had summoned me. I was brash and hopeful, but you were so frightened. Did I force your hand?”

The pain in his eyes was almost familiar. Twilight sighed and shook her head. “You’re thinking about what my brother said, aren’t you?” Solaire didn’t respond, but Twilight knew she was right. “Don’t listen to him,” she said sternly. “Nightmare Moon took everything that was good from him and just left his shadow. He still thinks I’m just a little filly. I know how to protect myself. You taught me that.”

“But is that what you wanted?” Solaire pressed. “In all our time together, I’m ashamed to realize that I had never asked.”

“What I want?” Twilight echoed. She was about to chastise him again but hesitated. Of course you know what I want, she wanted to say, but the more she thought of it, the more she realized even she hadn’t put much thought into it. As her mind dwelled on it, she straightened herself.

“Honestly? I’m tired of constantly being on the run,” she finally admitted. “All I want is to sit in a nice park with a nicer book and just… enjoy it.” A grin was tugging at her lips as she spoke. “I want to enjoy all of it. I want to see the park in sunlight again. I want to close my book when I’m done with it, close my eyes, and feel the sun’s warmth. Solaire… I want to help bring the sun back.”

Her words carried with them a sincere warmth that chased away Solaire’s frigid doubts. He returned her warm smile in kind. “Forgive me for asking, dear friend. After all this time, I should have known better than to question your resolve.”

Satisfied that all doubts were at ease, Twilight turned her attention back to the trailer.

“Applejack’s been in there for a while,” she noted.

Solaire hummed in agreement. “Perhaps you should check on her. She was home only so briefly before we called her again.”

“Will you be alright?” she asked.

“Don’t worry about me, Twilight. All I need now is rest.” A sharp pain bit into his side as he shifted, and he bit back a grimace. “Ah, but perhaps some estus,” he groaned, chuckling softly at his small joke. “If you could spare a flask.”

“I’m not sure Applejack would have any. What about some water?” Twilight offered instead, already waiting at the door.

“Yes… water will do quite fine.”

The door closed softly behind her, and Solaire was left to his own devices. He scanned his surroundings, pausing as his gaze fell on Gertrude. The griffon sat far away with her back to him and the carriage. Under the moonlight, Solaire could have sworn he could see her tremble. His heart reached out to her, and he thought of all she must have lost.

With a grunt, he managed to climb back to his feet with the support of the tree. His body complained as he slowly shuffled his way to the griffon, but he pushed through the pain. The night was cold, and he refused to let one of his friends suffer alone.

The inside of the trailer was a mess when Twilight entered. She didn’t remember leaving it like this. It was as though Applejack’s closet had exploded. Her dresses littered every square inch of the ground. Some clung desperately against the table to not join the others on the floor. In the middle of the aftermath sat the salesmare, comparing two dresses against herself before unceremoniously tossing them both aside and digging through the piles around her.

Twilight paused, realizing that this was the first time she had seen the mare without a dress. A part of her now knew it wasn't a coincidence.

Applejack still hadn’t noticed Twilight; her back was to the door, and she seemed to be in a frenzy trying to find something to wear. Twilight glanced around the small room, and her eyes settled on a modest, light green dress. She reached out to it with her magic, and the dress obediently levitated from the floor. It floated towards her reach, and she used her hoof to smoothie out a few of the wrinkles before sending it on its way to her friend.

Applejack nearly jumped out of her skin as the dress skirted around her. Her eyes lingered on it before she turned back and finally saw her company.

“I think it’s a nice color,” Twilight offered modestly.

“Oh, Twilight… I didn’t hear you come in,” Applejack apologized. Her attention flicked back to the dress, and she graciously reached out to accept it. It draped itself over her hooves, and she held it tightly against her body. She gave a brisk, appreciative nod to the unicorn and looked around the cabin for the first time since her wild trance was broken. “I seem to have made a mess,” she noted embarrassingly.

“I can help,” Twilight offered, and before Applejack had the chance to say no, the dresses began picking themselves off of the floor, three at a time.

Applejack watched in a silent amazement as they floated through the air, finding hangars for themselves and a home in her closet. Only after the second wave settled in did she get to work herself.

“Don’t worry about me, Twilight,” she said. “There’s no need for you to pick up my messes.”

Twilight shook her head and focused on the next batch of three. “What else are friends for?” She asked kindly.

Applejack finally got one back in the closet, just in time for Twilight to finish nine. A little more than twice of that was still on the floor.

“I fear I haven’t been very friendly lately,” Applejack confessed. “I left you alone in the city, and I’ve been short with you ever since.”

“We were foalnapped; it was out of your control,” Twilight reasoned. She paused, thinking of earlier this moon. “Speaking of…. One of the griffons went back for you. Her name is Gilda. Did she…?”

“She found me,” Applejack assured her, but the look in her eyes made the unicorn nervous. The salesmare found herself hesitant to explain, hoping that prolonging it would somehow buy Gilda more time, but the griffon’s words still echoed in her mind, calling out to her from within. Don’t stop for anything. Applejack couldn’t help but wonder; did Gilda truly mean anything?

“We were ambushed,” she finally continued. “Twice, actually. She stayed behind to buy me enough time to escape, but…”

She couldn’t find it within her to say the obvious, but Twilight already understood. They had cleaned up the rest of the dresses. The only one left was the green one Applejack held tightly against her barrel in her forelegs. Her side was exposed, but cutie marks felt so trivial at the moment.

“I… I can’t claim I had the pleasure of getting to know her. She did seem very brave though,” Applejack said softly. Her lips pressed into a sad, reminiscent smile as she turned to her friend. “She said you discovered where Evening was, though. I suppose that means some good came from this awful night after all.”

Twilight nodded solemnly. “We were hoping you could lead us, if it wasn’t too much trouble, that is.” She rubbed her foreleg self-consciously. “I mean, you just came back to Manehattan, and your family—”

“Darling, I appreciate your concern, but I hardly think I’m welcome in Manehattan anymore,” Applejack interjected knowingly. As realization dawned on Twilight, Applejack quickly continued. “And don’t apologize. It was my decision when Gilda came to me. I wouldn’t have agreed to follow her if I didn’t know what it meant for me.”

Despite Applejack’s best efforts, Twilight still deflated, but she still accepted her friend’s word’s with a nod.

“Now, where was it you were needing me to take you?” Applejack pressed.

Twilight collected herself with a deep breath and straightened herself. Simply, she gave her their next destination. “Ponyville.”

Applejack froze, staring at the mare, hoping she had heard wrong. Something in her chest clenched. Studying her reaction, Twilight struggled to assure herself.

“You said you’re from there… right?” A numbing dread was spilling over Twilight as she thought of the implication of mishearing Applejack. Had she sent Gilda off for nothing? “Please tell me I heard you right,” Twilight pleaded with a squeak.

“No, no, I am,” Applejack quickly assured her. “But… but, Twilight, why there of all places? There’s nothing special there other than… well…”

“I know it’s close to Everfree, but we found a letter,” Twilight explained. “It’s our only lead to Evening, and it’s pointing there. Would you be able to take us?”

Applejack was too busy wrestling against her own emotions to answer immediately. She didn’t realize that enlisting with the Warriors of Sunlight would mean digging so deeply into her own roots. Some were buried so deeply that she felt they deserved to stay so, and they were all within her foalhood town.

Nevertheless, she gave her word that she would take the Warriors wherever they needed to go. The quest she now shared with them was more important than the ghosts she was hiding from. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she forced a smile for her friend.

“Of course I’ll take you to Ponyville, Twilight. I’m a mare of my word.”

Twilight seemed to brighten at her words. Realizing she was still exposed, Applejack quickly slipped the green dress on. Her hooves smoothed out any wrinkles, focusing especially around her flank, Twilight noticed.

“You should tell the others to prepare,” Applejack said. “Ponyville is a long journey away, much further than Baltimare to Manehattan. It would behoove us to leave soon. I don’t know if any of you have eaten, but I wasn’t able to restock on any supplies like I had wanted.”

Twilight’s stomach groaned at the news and she covered it with a hoof. A dormant hunger pain quickly awoke at the sound of food.

“That sounds like a good plan,” Twilight offered, having realized that the last time she had eaten was this moon’s breakfast. “I’ll check my map while we’re moving, too. We missed some towns coming here. Maybe we can get something along the way.”

Only after Twilight left the cabin did Applejack let her smile fall. Her hoof massaged against her thumping chest. How long had it been since she had seen her old foalhood home? She and her immediate family had fallen out of touch shortly after Nightmare Moon returned. Letters were hard to send during a civil war that spanned the entire country, and Ponyville was so close to the forest the returned princess claimed as her own. Even when the dust had settled, it was impossible to know what became of the small town when she moved to Baltimare.

She tried to remember their faces: Granny Smith, her older brother Macintosh, and young baby Applebloom. Shockingly, Applejack realized that Applebloom wasn’t a baby anymore; she would have been a full grown filly by now. Would her younger sister even recognize her? Even Applejack would admit to herself that their faces had blurred in her memories over time.

Though the Warriors’ plans certainly didn’t involve her old homestead, she felt obligated to at least visit after all these years. A knot formed in her stomach. She had left them so long ago to find her own destiny, to find her own cutie mark that she was determined was separate from the old farm. What would they do when she came back emptyhoofed of both?

Comments

[ArceusFan493]

Good lord, it is so stellar to see this updating. Absolutely great work as it always had been, can't wait to see how this continues to unfold.

[Bossypants]

Great work as always! I cannot wait for the next chapters! Honestly, this story has amazing potential and is one of the best I have read! I do hope you continue from here on out, cause I am fully invested in your incredible story!

[ShadowsDarkHeart]

So good. Glad you've returned

[Shadow Star]

this needs a TV tropes page

[TheSpookinomicon]

It honestly shocks me that this fic wasn't one of those that had reached over 1,000 likes. It easily deserves it. I love how the characters interact and their relationships between each other, and how everything feels like it has actual weight to it. All without any unnecessary edge or bloodshed, this is a genuinely very well written fic.

[MrHeliuminium]

please dont tell me the story is dead, i know the author is busy irl. but at least one login to know theyre still there

[Mr Lore miser]

I cannot wait for another update