Sigil of Souls, Stream of Memories

by Piccolo Sky

Nightwatch: The Strongest of Fighters

The palisade wall was ripped through as if it were no more than a pile of leaves. In its wake, the Nighttouched boar charged through the broken logs. It winced as it emerged into the light of day, clearly not caring for the sunlight, but that didn’t stop it from resuming its run a moment later.

Whereas most people would have fled in terror the moment a Nighttouched showed itself, especially one twice the size of a normal boar with two sets of razor-sharp tusks and a hide already dotted with arrows, improvised wooden pikes, and even a broken pitchfork, the farmers it now faced shouted as one before rushing it. Two with intact pitchforks immediately went for its head--pointing the ends toward its eyes. As maddened as it was, the action had the effect of making it slow rather than run itself on them. Before it could reposition itself to get through them, other farmers bearing shovels wielded like blunt spears fell at its sides. They stabbed out for the neck and hoof region to try and keep it in place while others quickly ran for buckets of oil and rags they had handy.

Unfortunately, they weren't fast enough to enact the next part of their counter assault. The boar gave a squeal and charged forward, swinging its head madly. It ran past one of the pitchfork carriers and bowled him aside. It tried to keep running to drive its tusks into another farmer beyond her, but before it could a pair of lassos snapped out of the air. One went around its head while another went around its front tusks, and both were quickly drawn tight and pulled in either direction. At the same time, a team of four farmers, two on a side, pulled a cord of their own tight to intercept its ankles as it charged past.

It seemed to work briefly. Its head was twisted while its legs got tangled in the line, which served to stun it enough for their companion to get out of the way. Soon after, however, it squealed again and began to thrash about itself. Not only did it rip the four trying to hold it by the ankles off of their feet and drag them about, but the two farmers that had it lassoed were violently snapped to and fro as they refused to let go of the cords; yanking and thrashing them across the ground.

However, spinning around in place allowed more farmers to rush in from the sides bearing long branches sharpened into points, and they plunged them into the sides of the boar. It took two of them to a pole, and they had to wait for it to "help" them by spinning into their thrusts, but they managed to pierce its tough hide. Unfortunately, it did little more than what all previous skewers had done. It squealed furiously and began to lash about, wrenching the poles from the grip of the farmers and carrying them around dangerously to try and knock its attackers aside. For a moment, they were forced to pull back.

That, however, was when the original group finally went on the move. Taking their hoes and rakes, they had wrapped the ends in the oily rags and lit them aflame. Now they were coming in with firebrands on three sides and surrounding its head with them. For a moment, the Nighttouched’s thrashing ceased as it found itself confronted with light and heat.

Only now did the largest farmer in the bunch step forward. Powerful, solid, and standing a good head over all the others, he brandished a large, double-sided, woodcutting axe with both of his powerful arms. As soon as he had it over one shoulder, he charged for the boar from behind. From his path, he was ready to come up around and cut into its neck from behind.

However, just as he was nearly upon it, the boar suddenly reared back and lashed out with a powerful pair of hind hooves. The strong man’s eyed widened as one hoof connected with his arm and the other his middle. A crack rang out, and for all of his size and power he was battered backward as easily as the palisade wall had been. His body crashed into the ground violently, and the boar squealed loudly as it swept its head and body about, battering away the firebrands and wheeling fully on him.

His face was still tight with pain, having dropped his axe and now clutching for the hit arm, when the Nighttouched charged at him. It didn’t trample him outright, but instead got near enough to rear up on its back legs. He looked up in fear as he saw its cruel cloven hooves cut the air before they began to head down…

The blow didn’t land.

A moment before it could, a farmer no more than half of the size of the big one, hair tied into a “work” ponytail underneath a rancher’s hat, clothes fully soiled from a day of hard labor already, had darted in front of him. Both of her hands lashed out and seized the boar by the front legs, and she planted her own and held. In spite of the fact she should have been nothing more than debris to the Nighttouched, she tightened her jaw, dug in her boots, locked her arms and, impossibly, held it off.

Soon after, giving a powerful grunt of her own, she let one of her arms back to heft some of the beast's weight onto her, before she wrenched her body to one side. In an impossibly strong feat, she cast the Nighttouched against the ground. That didn’t serve but to stun it for more than a moment, but she used that same second to twist her body around to one side, raise up one of her legs, cock it back, and then drive it solidly into its jaw. A sound of heel on bone rocked out, and the massive boar that had ignored so much done to it actually snapped its head skyward.

Quickly, she reached out and snatched the handle of the big farmer’s discarded axe. Before the boar had a chance to recover, she was wheeling back around, hoisting it over her own head with both arms, and then burying it in the side of its neck. Inky, corrupted blood flowed forth from the wound as the thing reared up violently again. It shot back to its feet, still bleeding, before it snapped its tusks at her. However, she quickly pulled away, only to make a fist soon after and drive it forward behind its eyeball where the bone was missing. The force was so great, the eyeball popped right out of its socket. Stunned and in pain yet again, it gave her the moment to quickly seize one of the discarded ropes still hung around its neck. Pulling it tight, she quickly snapped around and actually leapt onto the Nighttouched's back. In an instant, she got a length of it, wrapped it around the end of its snout, and yanked upward; forcing its neck upward to open the existing wound on its neck even more.

“’K, now!”

The rest of the farmers, holding back until this signal, rushed in. More wooden poles were driven into its sides. Sharpened tools plunged deep into soft tissue. It tried to thrash and fight, but the young woman on its back was able to restrain its movements enough for it to keep from striking back. Finally, the injuries took their toll. As more blood flowed, it slowed down and began to stumble. Its legs finally gave way underneath it and it went down. A few more stabs, and it gave out one last gurgle before it collapsed to its side; the young woman jumping off of it as it did. Soon after the murky colors on it began to bleed out of its skin, leaving only a boar half of its original size and quite dead.

Most of the farmers were panting, tired, and, in some cases, a bit injured. The rush over, a few of them even looked afraid now. Not the young woman, however, who simply pulled her hat off long enough to wipe her brow before replacing it. “Whoo-whee! That was an onery one!” She smiled. “Now we get pork fer a whole month!” She looked up and around. “Alright, Apples! Let’s take a breather but don’t keep it too long! Apple Fritter, Apple Bumpkin, Red Gala…y’all get busy fixin’ that fence ‘fore the next wild pig decides ta’ start rootin’ ‘round it! The rest of ya’, that crop ain’t gonna harvest itself!”

She frowned soon after saying this; wheeling about. The big farmer was being helped up by two of the others, but all three froze on seeing her glare.

“And as for you, Big Macintosh,” she snorted, walking right up to the man who towered over her and fearlessly poking him in the chest, “yer lucky yer hide is as thick as yer head, ya’ know that? Ya’ ain’t cut, are ya’?”

“Um…nope.”

“Well thank god fer that, ya’ lucky fool! Maybe you’ll only get laid up with a broken rib or an arm if yer lucky! Ain’t you the one who told me ya’ never try ta’ run up ta’ ah Nighttouched from behind?”

“Er…uh…eeyup.”

“Then what’dya mean by doing the same damn thing?”

He began to sweat, looking more uneasy about his mess up than his injury by now.

“Ya’ ever do that again, you better hope the Nighttouched gets ya’ ‘cause it’ll be easier than what Ah’m gonna do ta’ ya’! Now go get Apple Strudel to patch ya’ up!” She wheeled about. “An’ one more thing. Apple Munchies?”

One of the farmers who had begun to head back stopped and turned to her. She smiled as she walked over to the dead boar, grabbed the broken pitchfork end, yanked it free, then tossed it to her.

“Found yer lost pitchfork head.”

On catching it, she smiled back a moment before looking concerned. “Say cousin, you need anyone to help you drag that back?”

“Nah, ah got it.” Using the ropes still on it, she bound its front legs and hind legs, before seizing both and, with a grunt, pulling them up on her shoulders. In spite of the fact the boar had to weigh nearly 200 lbs, she began to pull it along easy enough.

“You sure we can eat that?”

“Landsakes, Munchies. Don’t act like some baby turnin’ her nose at peas and carrots. Ah’ve been eatin’ these things for close ta’ eight years now. Fine once they’re dead.”

The farmers soon dispersed. For most of them, that meant moving back to the several-hundred-acre apple orchard which stretched as far as they eye could see. Most of it was very well tended and maintained, with large wicker bushels stocked on the end of every pruned row to collect the produce. Yet the northwest boundary of the farm was bordered by the palisade wall, which stretched in both directions for several miles until it vanished from view. On the other side was an adjoining farm that had long since been left to fallow. It was wild and overgrown now; its own produce having grown tall and thick to allow shady spots and shadows to fill it. Considering the fact the very sunlight seemed “dimmer” only a little ways onto that side, it went without saying no one crossed the barrier from the other side either.

The farmers paid it little mind, aside from the fact that all of them kept a tool that could be used as a weapon close at hand or doubled their existing tools for them if necessary. Most of them were buzzing about the orchard. The crop was good that year and they were taking extra care to grab each and every apple they could from the trees. It was a bit easier than one would think as the farm, for as large as it was, seemed to have more than its share of hands. A good hundred individuals were working it. Twenty other individuals were acting as watchmen either along the palisade wall or were tending to the other perimeters of the orchard; tending carefully-planted hedge rows or widening the trenches that had been dug around them. The way it was secured, the only way in or out was a forded pass at the end of the farm that led on to a dirt road. The road itself stretched a good five miles before it reached a main thoroughfare. Until then, it passed numerous other farms--each of which had been abandoned and left to slowly rot and overgrow. By comparison, an additional thirty individuals constantly kept the apple orchard in tip-top shape, from the wagons to the weeds to the paint on the windowsills. The way they went about carefully going through each task, it seemed many of them were looking for things to do.

On the end nearest the road leading out of the farm were the main buildings. While there was a multi-purpose building on a hill further in the orchard, the farmhouse, barn, and summer kitchen were all clustered together along with the vegetable garden. The young woman passed six kids working it together as she drug the carcass of the boar toward the last of the buildings; what was currently functioning as their combination slaughterhouse.

She was nearly to the threshold when she heard the gunshot.

Immediately, she dropped the boar and turned to the farmhouse. She knew that particular sound only came from granny’s homemade rifle; the same one she had gotten from her father. She took off for the house soon after.

She barely had managed to come around the front when she saw the door fly open. Grasping his forearm, an angry-looking young man, one of the Appleloosan civil servants by the dress and haircut, half-stormed, half-fled outside and down the steps. His horse was tied to an old fence post and he made straight for it.

She was actually stunned into stopping. “Notary, what’re you-”

“You know, you’re lucky you and your whole family are crazy enough to live right on the border!” he snapped as he kept walking. “Because even if I call the sheriff to come out here to have your crazy grandma locked up he’ll never head out here! That’s why he sends me to give these government notices instead of doing it himself!”

“Wait, what?” As she said this, she looked at his forearm. She noticed now that red fluid was oozing between his fingers. “Wait, wait…ya’ don’t mean… Did granny-”

“You can take it up with him from now on!” he shouted as he reached the horse, quickly untying it. “See how he likes it when you go about shooting the messenger!”

“Ah…ah don’t…”

The front door to the house flung open, causing her to turn around. She was just in time to see an anxious-looking elderly woman begin to hobble out after him as best she could; a pair of cats trailing her from behind. A piece of paper was clutched in her fist. “Notary! Notary Public, wait just one second, young man!”

“Like hell!” he shouted back as he mounted up. “You think I’m going to wait for that old prune to reload?”

She continued to call out, but it was no use. As soon as he was on, he turned his horse around and took off galloping down the road. A faster pace than folks usually took to get away from Sweet Apple Acres. The young woman continued to look confused between the two of them, but as soon as he out of earshot she turned fully to the older woman. “Aunt Goldie, what was that all about? Did granny actually try to shoot Notary Public?”

“Oh, y’know how your grandmother gets…” she sighed. “Ah reckon she was tryin’ ta’ just fire ah warnin’ shot but her eyesight ain’t been so good. Ah tried ta’ get her ta’ put it down, Applejack. Ah really did. She just got so onery again, though, and ah was afraid she was gonna have a spell. It ain’t no excuse, of course. Ah should’ve tried harder…”

“Nevermind that now,” she cut off. “What was all this about?”

“Hell if ah know, dear. All ah know is Notary rode right up, knocked on the door, asked if he could talk ta’ Granny Smith, ah showed him in, he delivered this here letter,” She held it up. “And the next thing ah know Granny’s goin’ for her rifle. Ah could’ve sworn ah cleaned that gun out ‘cause ah know she always keeps it loaded, but there ain’t no sense in keepin’ ah powder-loaded gun ready to-”

“Can I see that?”

“Of course.” She finished hobbling over to the young woman and passed it over. “Ah sure can’t read it. Not since my reading glasses broke. That’s why ah was tryin’ to chase him down to explain what as the matter, but if Granny wanted to scare him off she sure did…”

Ignoring the rest of the litany, Applejack took the letter and opened it up. She quickly read it over, and as soon as she was done her face twisted in such an expression she looked as if she might have shot at Notary Public herself.

---

Sheriff Silverstar sighed, both at the angry young woman standing before his desk with hands on her hips as well as the fact his front door was not only off its hinges but practically snapped in two from how hard she had struck it barging in. “You know, I’m already struggling not to charge your grandmother with assault. I don’t need you adding property damage to it.”

“This is pig swallor!” she shouted, slapping the letter down on his desk. All over the top was the official insignia of the Appleloosan government, and on the bottom was the proper seal and signatures by the acting civil authorities.

“I didn’t write it, Applejack! The government did! I’m just going to carry it out!”

“And you can just sit back and do that like it ain’t no big deal? Sweet Apple Acres has been a part of this community since before you were born! Every folk who settled here did so because of us! Our farm practically made this whole town!”

The sheriff sighed before he folded his hands and hardened his gaze. “That’s just it. You and the rest of the Apples still don’t get it…it’s not your farm anymore. And it hasn’t been your farm for three years.”

Hearing this seemed to sting the farmer, making her visibly wince.

“The law is the law, Applejack. When the government agreed to sign the lease, the condition was that they reserved the right to revoke at any time for any reason. It’s right there on paper.”

“But it ain’t fair! Not to us and not to anyone still left in this town! They can’t just come out of the blue and yank it like that! Not when we’re feedin’ so many people!”

“But it’s not out of the blue,” he answered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

Her anger ebbed. She raised an eyebrow. “What’dya mean?”

He frowned as he looked one way and another, not trying to meet her gaze. “…The order came in from the governor not to tell any of the locals about it, but seeing as you and your family are right there on the border and you’re most at risk, I’ll tell you. Maybe it’ll get you to go along with this.”

“Tell us what?”

He exhaled uneasily, rubbing his mustache. “Four days ago, Fillydelphia got attacked. The township that got hit had never been struck before and it got hit bad. Not just Nighttouched, Applejack. The rumor they have is some of them spotted a Light Eater.”

She forgot being angry for a moment. “Ya…ya serious? They’re really surgin’ again?”

“Last time that happened we lost the two towns north of here and all of the northwest farms…” he sighed. “If they follow the same pattern, and they say they are going to follow the same pattern, then this town’s done too.”

Applejack’s jaw dropped. He looked back up at her regretfully.

“So you see it really doesn’t matter either way. Either the government pushes you off first or you get overrun by Nighttouched and maybe something worse. I figure the folks down south thought they’d cut their losses…”

She frowned again. “Losses?! There’s ah whole town of folks to worry about!”

“And they would have run off along with the real owners of Sweet Apple Acres years ago if you and your family wasn’t holding their ground, but that was just because they thought the government would back them up if push came to shove. They’re not doing it anymore, though.”

“Sweet Apple Acres is keeping all those fat cats fed in Appleloosa!”

He sadly shook his head. “That’s not good enough anymore. They’ve got new refrigeration houses and canning plants. They can do without fresh produce for a while longer now. Once this harvest season is done, they’re ordering you out. Then they’ll move in and burn down the orchard.”

Applejack stared back in horror. “Burn it down?! That wasn’t in the letter!”

The sheriff wiped his brow. “It’s new policy. Too many folks did what you’re thinking of doing: sticking around once they pull out and defending the land. They figure they won’t stay if there’s nothing to defend. Besides…” He trailed off.

She frowned. “Besides what?”

He sighed. “Besides…no one’s ever taken land back from the Nighttouched or Light Eaters once it’s gone. There’s no sense leaving anything behind…”

“You can’t do this, sheriff! You knew my mom and dad! You knew how much that farm meant to them!”

“What am I supposed to do, Applejack? Either I carry this out or they’ll bring in someone who will. Then I’ll be out of a job on top of everything else. We can’t fight the government.”

“We don’t have to roll over and take it, either!” she snapped back. “Ah thought this town meant something to you, sheriff! I thought our farm did!”

“It did, Applejack. As in it did once, but it doesn’t any longer,” he retorted, surprising the young woman as his own face hardened. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I already sent my wife and kid away six years ago. I would have joined them long before now if not for your family.”

Now the farmer really did look surprised. “Wh…what?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but not everyone is as stubborn as your family and not everyone has their heads in the ground. Don’t you get it? It doesn’t matter how strong you are. There’s no stopping those things. Every time the Appleloosan government tried they got massacred for it. You can’t even kill Light Eaters to begin with! We can’t defend against that, but we can let our pride go to our heads and make us stay here and get killed fighting battles we can’t win. And in your case…” He paused, sighing again. “In your case, you’re asking too many other folks to stick out their necks for you.”

She clenched her teeth. “Ah ain’t never asked nobody to stick out their neck for us and you know it! We defended that farm and this town! Us! We never so much as asked you to drop by!”

“And you really think you can do that forever?” His voice had softened. “Your whole family has relocated there, Applejack. The rest of them already lost their own farms. They thought they could stick it out there too and they had to run in the end. Now you got old folks, teens, children… You don’t have fighters. And you don’t have guns either. You may be able to handle the occasional Nighttouched, but what are you going to do when a whole swarm comes down? Your whole family isn’t as strong as you. And not all of them can even defend themselves. They break down that barrier and cut you off, there won’t be any escape. What if you have to leave someone behind?”

Applejack softened again, growing increasingly uncomfortable to hear this. It made her wince and hesitate for a time, but in the end her jaw squared itself again. “Well, that’s our business!”

“And what about the rest of your family? They really want to stick it out? They want to fight the government along with the Nighttouched?”

“Yer damn right they do!” she snapped with renewed vigor. “’Cause home and family means something to ‘em! That farm is the Apple family! We lose it and go to some dirty, smell, soot-covered, cramped town we’ll lose what pride we got left and half of us’ll starve between factory jobs!”

Silverstar’s face grew more sympathetic. He leaned in as his voice lowered. “Applejack, just because something bad happened to her doesn’t mean-”

Now he really did snap back, for Applejack’s fist came down so hard that she punched a hole through the top of his desk. She glared at him with a near psychotic fury. The sheriff didn't move a muscle.

“You ever bring Apple Bloom into our discussions again, and yer first deputy will be bringing me in on murder. Ya’ got that?”

He couldn’t even answer. Not the way she was looking at him now. At any rate, she was done there. Pulling her hand out of the desk, now dripping blood from where she had gashed it smashing through the wood, she turned and walked back out the way she came. On the way, she angrily kicked the remains of the door out of her way.

Silverstar wasn’t able to move again until all sounds of her horse had vanished.

---

Applejack wasn’t much for drinking, and when she was she didn’t do it on an empty stomach. That night she skipped dinner and went straight to the whiskey bottle. In all fairness, no one really felt like eating. It didn’t take long for word to get around to all of the family, and only half of them even had the appetite for a late supper in spite of all the extra work they had gone through killing the Light Eater. Everyone’s chores went more slowly, especially when she returned and gave them the bad news on her unfruitful meeting with the sheriff. The icing on the cake was that Granny Smith was again not feeling well enough to come downstairs.

She was on the front porch, leaning back in a chair and pouring herself a second shot on the end table when the farmhouse doors opened. She glanced up a little and saw an individual similar to her; right down to the rancher’s hat. He looked to her uneasily. “Hey cuz.”

“Hey Braeburn. How’s Big Mac?”

He winced. “He’s all patched up. Wanted to get back to work but Strudel told him to take it easy. Then he got the news and, well…he said he was going to work alone on finishing up that boar.”

Knowing that he was purposely withdrawing to where no one could see him was all Applejack needed to know about that. She nodded back. She could talk to him later about it.

“So…so that’s it, then?” Braeburn asked. “We’re out?”

“Like hell we are. Ah’ll fight ‘em tooth and nail. Even if ah have to fight them off on one side an’ an army of Nighttouched on the other…the ones they should be fightin’ ‘stead of burning folks out of their homes and turnin’ coward. It’s nothin’ to them if we want to defend our own land.”

Braeburn lowered his head uneasily. “But…it ain’t our land…”

Applejack winced again on hearing that, and downed the second shot.

The screen door opened, causing both to look up. Goldie Delicious poked her head out from inside, but quickly looked at the young woman. “Applejack?”

“Yeah Aunt Goldie?”

“Yer grandmother wants to talk to you for a while. She said to bring the whiskey bottle.”

---

A minute later, Applejack was in her room. It was still upstairs, no matter how much they all insisted on relocating her to the first floor with her bad hip. In all honesty, it hadn’t been much cause for concern. Granny Smith was well into her senior years, but she had definitely been robust enough to keep up with everyone else.

At least, she had been three years ago. Since then she had lost a lot of weight, and not in the healthy sense of the word. She laughed far less than she used to. Things she used to take pride in, such as heading up the annual crafting of Zap Apple Jam, she now deferred to her with little argument. She spent a lot of time in her room now, and not always because she wasn’t feeling well.

As was often the case, only her bedside lamp was on when she came into the room. She had lain down again, and Applejack had pulled a chair close to her. She liked sitting there. It kept her from being able to see the photograph on the wall behind her, featuring the bulk of the original family. Every time she entered the room, she tried not to look at the part with a brown, long-haired man wearing her own hat standing next to a curly-haired woman with a buttercup in her own hair, while at their feet an unusually lanky boy, a yellow-haired girl, and a baby with a large red ribbon in her hair sat.

Applejack poured herself the third shot and Granny the first. In spite of her age, she took it up and knocked it back. She made an even more sour face than usual on putting it down again. “Dagnabbit…never could get used ta’ the taste of Apple Cider’s corn whiskey. Better off usin’ it ta’ remove paint.” She slumped back against her pillow. “But ah’ll try anythin’ ta’ get ta’ sleep tonight…”

The young woman winced. After a moment, she pulled off her hat--a rare gesture for her. “Granny, ah…ah went ta’ the sheriff. And…and ah tried, but-”

“Oh, Applejack. Ya’ don’t need to explain anythin’ ta’ me,” she waved off. “Yer the most honest girl ah know. If’n ya’ say you tried, then you tried and that’s the end of it.”

“But…but ah couldn’t change his mind…”

“Of course ya’ couldn’t. If it were just Sheriff Silverstar ya’ might have, but once ya’ bring in the politicians all bets are off that don’t end up in more dollar signs for ‘em. Learned that the hard way as ah grew up. Ah hoped you could have gone a bit longer, though. Nah, ah…”

Her face grew melancholy as her eyes lowered.

“Ah just wanted some company for a bit besides Goldie… From whoever’s gonna be the next head of the Apple family.”

Applejack stiffened. “Granny, you don’t-”

“Why, ya’ look as nervous as ah cat in a room fulla rocking chairs. Ah ain’t about to kick no buckets anytime soon. At least not if ah can help it. Although, heh…” she smiled faintly, “I dunno. After hearin’ today, ah kinda wouldn’t mind this bein’ my last harvest season.”

Talk like that did little to comfort Applejack. “We ain’t lost the farm yet, Granny. We’ll think of somethin’. Ah know we will.”

She didn’t answer. She only kept smiling as she leaned back a little more. “Ah reckon ah oughta apologize to Notary Public. Poor young fella…used ta’ always come by and snake some of the Jonathans before dippin’ his hands in the pies. Back in the good ol’ days before all the critters turned nasty. Ah switched him more’n once but the truth is ah always liked him comin’ back for more.”

She looked up again, but it was past Applejack and to the picture on the wall. Swallowing, the young woman kept staring at her without turning to it. She didn’t want to see it now. Granny’s smile faded a little.

“Reckon…ah should be used ta’ losin’ things by now. After this long…” she went on more softly. “Ah still remember my daddy…yer great-granddaddy…tellin’ me how everyone figured your great-great-granddaddy was licked the day they rewrote the law. Went from bein’ one of them landed nobles ta’ being a dirt poor laborer in the span of one day. But he told me…he said: ‘Smith, your grandpappy was the best of all the Knights of Appleloosa. Even when the rest of them forgot about where they came from and how they fought tooth and nail day in and day out, and just sat back and got fat off the taxes, he held true to it. No one could whip him in a fight. Not until they finally brought in the guns and they didn’t even have a spot for him in the army.’”

Applejack remembered those stories. As a child, she loved them. Back when Appleloosa was far wilder and filled with feuding and warring families. They were one of the last countries to adopt use of gunpowder other than for basic bombards. Before those days, no one could beat the Appleloosans in combat. And no one got to be a knight unless they were the best of the best. Those days were long gone before her great-great-grandfather was removed from service, though.

“And that’s why he was the best at farming. Ta’ him, it weren’t never anythin’ other than somethin' else to whip. Scraped by with nothing and got this farm, then worked it with his sweat and tears until he built it up into Sweet Apple Acres. That’s when the farm became our name. We didn’t need none of them fancy crests or standards or titles. We had that land we had taken and made with our own hands.”

Her smile faded as she sighed.

“Nothin’ makes sense ta’ me anymore, Applejack. World’s changin’ too fast for me. Everything’s changin’ too fast. First came that Moon Crash…”

“Lunar Fall, granny…”

“Whatever it was…whatever it was that took Bright and Buttercup… Then all them refugees came in…then came that bad year where we had to sell to those damn city slickers…then Apple B-”

She cut herself off at that. For a moment, her eyes began to shimmer and her face tightened. She turned it to one side, refusing to let her granddaughter see her cry.

“Y’know…ah thought our luck had changed when they put out that Caretaker Law…thought there was a chance ah’d die on our own land same as the rest of the family. But now this comes out. It weren’t Notary Public ah was mad at, dear… I was mad because…well, because…” She swallowed. “Because ah started to wonder if there really was any place for us in this world anymore…”

At once, Applejack put her hand out on top of hers. “There is, granny. You bet there is. And ah’ll make sure the whole family always is here for it. Ah promise you that. Ah’ll get around this. Ya’ see if ah don’t.”

She turned toward her. “Applejack…”

“Have ah ever said ah’d do something and lied about it? Ya’ just leave everythin’ ta’ me. Ah’ll fix it.”

After a time, she looked back up to her. For a few moments, she stared back in her granddaughter’s eyes and didn’t see them waver. She risked a small smile. “Maybe that’s the real reason ah wanted ya’ up here, Applejack. Ah had to tell myself it’s time ta’ stop worryin’ ‘bout these things myself and let the youngin’s handle it. They won’t be youngin’s forever, after all.”

She brought her other hand around to clasp hers.

“Alright dear…ah’ll leave it ta’ you.”

---

Thirty minutes later, Applejack had moved to the back porch. The rest of the whiskey was sitting nearby untouched. She didn’t feel like anymore since all it was doing was giving her a headache; not actually making her feel better about the situation. She had started drinking when she only had her anger to worry about. After the conversation with Granny Smith, she now had far more on her mind. Now she stared at the forest behind her property. Even with night fallen, it still somehow seemed like “darker” night over the area above Equestria. The stars almost seemed to stand out more.

She finally reached over to fumble for the bottle again. Her fingers slipped and knocked it over. She turned to it, seeing it pouring out now that it was on its side. She nearly reached to pick it up, but finally just turned away and let it drain.

The back door flew open with such violence that it let out an echoing crack against the back of the house. “Applejack!”

The farmer nearly fell backward out of her chair. “For cryin’ out loud, Braeburn!” she shouted in a harsh whisper, wheeling on the door frame. “The youngin’s are headed to bed! Keep yer voice down!”

“Sorry, but…I got good news! I was checkin’ in on Big Macintosh, and he thought of something! Something he picked up from the trader last time he was at the market! It might get us out of this!”

Her eyes widened. “Well, what is it?”

---

Applejack set the form down rather carefully on the sheriff’s desk, ignoring the hole she had put in it just the day before. Today, she was in a far better mood as she tapped the top of it. “Right there.”

He leaned in closer. “The ‘Home Soil Act’?”

“Appleloosa passed it just four months ago ta’ get more enlistees and get them fightin’ for their homes. So long as at least one member of yer family is in active service, your land can’t get touched by the government. So long as we sign up for the army, we’re in good shape.”

Silverstar looked over the form a moment before he frowned. “There’s some provisions here. First, it’s got to be for front line combat. And it goes out of effect as soon as you’re marked as deceased. Second, you got to report across the country for it to take effect. Damn near where the Nighttouched crossed the border…”

“But so long as one of us stays in the military, they can’t seize our farm. So that’s that. We sign ourselves up for the military and we’re set.”

He sighed. “Now, Applejack…”

“Don’t you ‘now Applejack’ me! Ah just stopped by to set you straight! Ah’m mailin’ in this form tomorrow! Ah whole bunch of us will be headin’ out there! There’s more than enough folks back home to handle the chores and harvest while we’re gone.”

“But you’re going to be using your own family to hold the farm for ransom more or less. And even if you do, this can’t last forever. Those things are just going to keep coming…”

“Well ah ain’t got any better ideas! So long as it keeps us on the land for right now, that’s what ah’m doin’! And ah ain’t holdin’ nobody ransom. Every one of us who goes is gonna volunteer just like me!”

The sheriff said no more. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

Applejack leveled a glare at him. “Ya’ got more on yer mind, ah can tell.”

“Not if you’re going to do what you did yesterday. Trying to talk you out of something you got your mind on is like trying to get a cat to tie a knot.”

“It’s ‘cause ah never gave up on battles ah started.”

“You mean you never knew what battles weren’t worth fighting.” He sighed. “I know you didn’t come here for my blessing. You’ll do what you’ve always done; whatever you felt like. Just…just stop and think about what might be more important.”

She frowned as she shoved her hat down on her head, taking up the form again. “If the Apple family loses this, we got nothing. No place in the world left to go. Nothin’ is more important than that.”

---

Never one to let the grass grow under her feet, the plan went into motion very quickly. Applejack filled out the form and sent it by post while she brought back the registration to the farm to settle who officially would go. Most of them shared the same mindset as her. Moreover, the family had already been fighting Nighttouched without firearms or proper weapons for years. This wasn’t much of a change for them. Applejack alone was convinced she was worth more than ten of the standard soldier, and no one would dispute her on that. Besides, if war broke out, they might have found themselves fighting humans rather than monsters; and all of them preferred their odds with that.

Aside from her and Braeburn, 18 other members of the family decided to head out. Big Macintosh, who indeed ended up having a broken rib from the incident of the boar, wanted to come, and truth be told he probably could have healed up fast and been the second best among them. Nevertheless, Applejack told him to stay behind.

“Ya’ need ta’ look after the farm, and more important ya’ need to look after Granny. She ain’t gonna like this.”

And, indeed, she hadn’t. Not after the similar situation with Apple Bloom. She gave her an earful the first day and the silent treatment the next two. However, she knew that Applejack wouldn’t have suggested this without being willing to put her own neck on the line. And right now it was their only choice. It took almost until the day they left, but finally she came down to address them all.

“Bunch of young pigheaded idiots… Ya’ all do somethin’ stupid like get yerselves killed Ah’m gonna head out there myself and give y’all a kick in the shin. Ya’ just promise me that no matter what y’all look out fer each other. Y’all stay together, get me? And if’n they won’t let ya’ do that, then ta’ Hell with them. Ya’ come right home. This farm ain’t worth it.”

The morning of departure, the family loaded up a pair of covered wagons with what provisions and belongings they would need. As there was no money for train fare to spare, they would have to go the country route. It was a pretty far trip to boot. There was a deadline for enlistment on submittal of the forms, and to make it they would have to take a roundabout way. Going directly would force them to cross the mountains of the Mount Eris city state, and those routes had long since been closed off. They would have to make it to the river and ferry down to the coast, catch a boat to the tip of Mount Eris’ western side, then work their way back north and into Appleloosa all over again. Ironically, using the river would make it faster, although the trip over land would still span hundreds of miles. Fortunately, none of them had much in the way of possessions.

Applejack herself took only a change of clothes, the ones on her back (especially her hat), some rope, a claw hammer, and the last family photograph they had all felt like taking. It had been about three years ago now, when, in spite of everything, the family was still together and still smiled for them. On the way out of the house, not knowing when she would be back to see it again, she stopped by Granny Smith’s room and looked at the picture with her parents in it.

“Mom, dad…ya’ mind havin’ my back? Not fer me. Fer Granny.”

Not long after that, she headed down and bid everyone their goodbyes, including the rest of the family. After making promises to write as soon as she arrived and to succeed, as well as an admonition to keep the farm going, they headed out. Naturally, she was one of the first to walk. It was only when they left the last bit of their community behind that she began to feel a touch of the loneliness—her vast family crunched onto one farm now reduced to just twenty members nearby. And neither granny nor Big Macintosh around.

Nevertheless, she kept her head high on the road ahead.

The whole farm is countin’ on me. Ah won’t let ‘em down.

And maybe…just maybe…I’ll find Apple Bloom out there somewhere.

Comments

[FanOfMostEverything]

Hmm. Bloom may not be dead yet. She may be even worse off. You've made it clear that humans can be Nighttouched.

Still, excellent introduction to this world's Applejack. I especially loved the historical background. Now there's just the matter of putting this loophole into practice, and that's going to be a lot more complicated than it sounds...