The Lion's Roar

by I Am The Night

Chapter 10: Read

Lyon woke up in bed the next morning, feeling almost entirely rejuvenated. But he was half-expecting to wake up back in Canterlot, whether in the prison wing of the castle or in the dungeons beneath the city itself.

But considering last night, he wasn't entirely sure what he'd rather prefer.

With an unsteady sigh, he forced himself slowly out of bed and explored the house for a few minutes. He looked at his bedside and realized his bow and arrow were right where he tossed them before. He reached for them initially, only to shake it off and pull away.

Lyon went downstairs, half-expecting a dozen guards to be standing before him with spears and demanding he come with them. Instead, nothing. Not a single soul was found but his own. It surprised him. He walked over to one of the windows by the front door and peeked through it. Though where he lived was fairly inactive at night, plenty of folks could be seen walking about in the early morning hours. To his surprise, nopony was standing in front of his house and trying to clamor their way in; they went about their lives like any other day.

It was then he realized that his friends had not revealed his identity to the public, and likely not his location to those in Canterlot. It was good, but he refused to cheer. If not Twilight herself, then someone will slip. And it'd be only a matter of time before the locals—most of which he always considered dear friends—would be stringing him up by his neck.

He wanted to believe it was rubbish that they would do that. But after Haylem, he knew he would be piling his chips on a guess.

He had to leave. He hated that very idea, but the longer he stayed, the more he put everyone in Ponyville at risk of being captured. Or worse. He couldn't bear to think about Sweetie Belle or Lyra or... Twilight being trapped in a cocoon, to never be seen again. The thought alone made his blood run cold, only to boil when he realized who would be at the helm of it all.

Turning away from the window, Lyon ran back upstairs into the bedroom and looked around. His weapon stay in the same spot on the bed, and inside the closet was a leftover arrow he thought to have dropped when packing. Upon closer inspection, the sack he had prepared was still there too, able to fit a few more small objects. He stared at the sack for a moment or two, pondering on the decision. He'd hoped they would never find out, that he would leave town in secret, find his long lost mother, and defeat her like he should've all those years ago. Then he would come back in disguise and continue living on as he did before. Like he wanted to.

But now he remembered everything. His mother, his siblings, his life. Sanctity, and everything after it. Deep down, no matter his passion before the wedding, he knew it would all be for nothing now. He knew he would outlive them all.

And now they knew what he was. What he always had been. If he left now and came back after it was done, he was sure he would come back a pariah. Nopony and nobody would take him back in kind, no matter what his deeds. Surely his brothers and sisters shattered any idea of a good changeling. Like every time before, he would be forced to move on and start again, hoping he would forget in time.

But he never forgot. He knew that.

"I thought you were my friend."

How could he forget?

Lyon gritted his teeth with frustration. Not at his friends, not at the locals, and not even at his mother for a change. But at himself.

He hated himself sometimes. Everything he did, he thought only made things worse, and yet it never clicked in his mind to go the other way. It was only after that he thought about it, but even then he wanted to believe there was a reason behind it. Of course everything had a reason. There was just always some better solution.

Leaving Ponyville without ever explaining himself would be another nail in his coffin—and he had enough nails already. Why add another?

With a slow sigh, Lyon pushed himself away from the sack and stepped over to the desk in the corner. He opened one of the drawers to find a pencil and a stack of paper. He lifted them onto the desktop and removed a single sheet, before taking the pencil in his telekinetic grasp. He was happy that never changed for the worse after Sanctity. And he hated using his mouth.

Calmly, Lyon set the lead down upon the paper and began to write.

"Dear Twilight..."

---

An hour later, Lyon wandered the streets of Ponyville, a backup satchel attached to his back. He didn't think to get his other satchel back from Twilight last night, but hopefully it wouldn't prove difficult.

Inside the satchel were eight individual letters, seven of them written for each of his friends. The eighth would go to Celestia per Spike. She either already knew and was still swamped by the cleanup effort in Canterlot, or Twilight had yet to bring her up to speed. Had she even known Twilight left the city? That might've been the first thing Twilight did before chasing down Lyon.

The first stop was Sugarcube Corner, being relatively close to his house. Looking in through the windows, he couldn't see anypony hoofing the counter, but a glance to the backroom could see Mr. and Mrs. Cake putting together an assortment of treats that Lyon couldn't see from this distance.

Neither of them were smiling, or if they were, it was forced. They were off, he knew. And if Pinkie Pie was nowhere to be seen in that kitchen, they knew something, or Pinkie coming home the way he last saw her indicated something.

Lyon pushed open the door of the bakery, ringing the bell above and alerting the couple in the back.

"Just a second!" Mrs. Cake's familiar singly voice rang. Even that felt a bit forced, though not entirely. He knew she was naturally a cheery mare. Perhaps that was always her intention, no matter the situation.

Mrs. Cake emerged from the kitchen to see Lyon standing at the counter. Immediately, her expression changed from almost genuine to a complete facade of joy.

"O-Oh! Lyon!" she exclaimed, trying to hide the shakiness in her voice. "How are you this morning?"

Lyon sighed sadly.

"Hey, Mrs. Cake. I'm..." He paused, watching the mare's movements. She seemed almost frozen, yet she fidgeted slightly. "I'm... something."

"Oh, that's awful," she said in faux guilt. "Is everything alright?"

Lyon opened his mouth to say one thing, but he let the air protrude from his throat.

"No. It isn't." He looked up at her with sad eyes. "Is Pinkie home?"

Her expression grew fearful, her words stammering a bit more, no matter how well she tried to keep it together.

"N-No. She, uh... went out with her friends! To... get some cupcake batter! We... We ran out yesterday and are kinda running on scraps, as they say!"

She giggled nervously, and a bead of sweat ran down the side of her head. Lyon couldn't keep going on like this. The poor thing would scare herself dead, and he didn't need that.

"Mrs. Cake?"

"H-Hmm...?"

"Did Pinkie tell you what I am?"

She giggled again the same way. "I have no idea what you mean, dearie!"

Lyon raised his hoof slowly, and though Mrs. Cake recoiled, she didn't run away assuming the worst. He only raised it in hopes of calming her.

"It's okay. I'm not gonna do anything. Okay? I just need to know. That's all."

The mare swallowed the saliva in her mouth, eyeing the wall beside her as if she planned on jumping through it. He was sure her heart was beating itself wild now.

But before she could answer, Mr. Cake stormed through the double doors of the kitchen and stood behind his wife. The glare on his face didn't help any matter.

"Pinkie told us everything," he stated aggressively. "That you're a changeling, that you change form to blend in, that you take lives and crush them, that you lie to others for your own gain... She told us all of it."

A mighty overexaggeration... but at the same time, not entirely a lie.

"I can explain—" Lyon tried to say, only to be cut off further by the stallion before him.

"We don't want your explanation. I always knew something was off about you the moment I laid eyes on you, and now I realize I was right all along! You've got some nerve coming in here after what your kind did. You're lucky we don't just report you to the Royal Guard ourselves!"

He hovered over the counter, getting as close to Lyon as he could.

"To think I could trust my kids with you."

"That's not fair," Lyon replied softly. "You don't know me."

"The hell I don't." He sneered at Lyon. "I may not be the strongest pony in these parts, but if I ever see you near my family, and that includes Pinkie Pie, I'll—"

"Carrot," Mrs. Cake spoke up, garnering her husband's attention. "Stop. Please. I... I think he understands."

Mr. Cake glanced at his worried wife, before turning to Lyon with another quick glare. Slowly, he retreated back from the counter, standing beside Mrs. Cake.

"Pinkie... doesn't want to see anybody right now," she explained slowly, her eyes shifting from Lyon to the nearby stairs. "And I think it's for the best."

Lyon had no choice but to agree in that moment, as much as he hated it. With that in mind, he reached his hoof into the satchel, earning the defensive recoil of the couple. He held his other hoof up to ensure them it was okay; even as he pulled out a small envelope and placed it down on the countertop, they couldn't stop looking down at him.

"Can you give this to her, then?" He flipped the envelope face up, revealing Pinkie's first and last name. "It's for her. I need her to read it."

"What makes you think we'll just give that to her from you?" Mr. Cake asked. "For all we know, you did something to it. Poisoned it."

"I thought you were my friend."

"I'd never hurt her."

The baker opened his mouth, but Mrs. Cake spoke first, forcing his mouth shut. "What does it say? The letter. If you mean that, then what does it say?"

Lyon looked down at the letter, caressing the smooth paper wrap that made up its folds.

"It says I'm sorry for lying to her," he said. "That I'm sorry for not being honest all this time because I was ashamed of who I was. That all of this is new to me in its own way. That I'm sorry for hurting her and breaking her trust. And that I'm leaving tonight and probably won't come back."

"Leaving...?" she asked.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mr. Cake asked in a somewhat calmer tone, but still with a bitterness hinted within.

Lyon looked up at them.

"When all of this is over, whether I succeed or fail, I probably won't be coming back home. At least... not alive."

For the first time today, Mrs. Cake seemed worried by the stallion's words, though not out of fear for herself, but not entirely for him, either.

"I'm not gonna get into details, but I'm not gonna leave without saying something. You can burn it afterwards if you still don't trust it for all I care... but for the love of Celestia, Cerberus, Gaius, and anybody that's listening, please let her read it. I don't want her spending the rest of her life wondering what happened. Please."

Lyon was desperate. He felt it, showed it in his eyes. And Mrs. Cake could see that. Genuine desperation, the kind that couldn't be made up on the spot—not even by a changeling, from the brief words she's heard.

Slowly, she took the letter in her grip, and instead held it out to Lyon.

"She's upstairs," she said. "She probably won't let you in, but if she cares, I know she'll listen."

"Cup Cake...!" Mr. Cake whispered in sheer disbelief. But his wife simply glanced at him.

"We'll be nearby. He wouldnt try anything if he means it."

Lyon smiled weakly. "Thank you, Mrs. Cake."

He made his way over to the stairs and began to climb upward, his hoofsteps echoing into the empty air of the second floor. Mr. and Mrs. Cake followed behind him, a cautious eye of theirs always somewhere on his body. He didn't see it, but he could at least sense it.

The second floor hallway always seemed so dreary, a complete contrast to the first floor. But today, it was especially dreary. No rambunctious noises, no burst of colors—pure melancholy. And as Lyon approached Pinkie's bedroom door, it only grew.

"Pinkie?" Lyon called out to her out of habit. Silence followed. "Pinkie, are you in there?"

More silence, until he could hear the bed creak slightly from inside, confirming what Mrs. Cake told him. Despite this, there was no other noise but a sigh.

She was awake, he realized, but she said nothing.

"Pinkie," he repeated, resting his head against the door. "I can't say I know what you're thinking, but I know what you're feeling. I saw it in your eyes. I don't... I don't really know what to say. But I..."

Lyon paused as he felt a shiver run down his shoulders.

"I never wanted to lie to you. Any of you. I always did my best to tell you the truth, no matter how much it'd hurt. I was always... almost always truthful.

"Did I mention last night that I met Zecora first? Before you guys? It was right before I came to town back then," he explained. "She helped me forget what I was. I wanted it, because... I guess I just felt alone."

Pinkie said nothing, but he heard the bed creak louder, as if she was now sitting up.

"I didn't even know my mother was still alive. I thought she..." Lyon paused again to swallow. "But now I know she's out there. Out there and doing Celestia knows what. And deep down, I know it's my fault for that. But I'm gonna fix it. I'm gonna... fix it..."

Lyon felt his chest tighten as he took the envelope in his hoof, then leaned down to slide it beneath the door.

"You don't have to read it right now. You can read it whenever you want to. You can wait until you're as old as Granny Smith, if you want," Lyon said with a chuckle. She even giggled, hidden behind what could've been a pillow. "But I didn't want to leave without saying something."

Lyon caressed the door slowly, staring at its wooden material.

"I'm gonna stop her, Pinkie. I'm gonna stop my mother and save you. All of you. You and the Cakes and their kids, Applejack, Rarity, Rainbow, Fluttershy, Twilight... everyone. I don't want you to worry. I'll be okay. I'll be okay."

He stopped.

"I'm sorry. For hurting you. I'm not expecting you to ever forgive me. But I am sorry. And you'll always be my friend, no matter what happens. Good... Goodbye, Pinkie Pie."

With a sigh, Lyon slipped away and walked away from the door without another word. He passed by the Cakes without saying anything else, but he read their faces. Mrs. Cake was still understandably cautious, but she seemed far more trusting of him now than earlier, or maybe it seemed that way. The same could be said for Mr. Cake, his expression softened yet still suspicious. He didn't know if he harbored any anger left. That's when he realized the folks of Ponyville seemed a lot harder to read than anywhere else. Unique in their own way.

As Lyon pulled open the front door of Sugarcube Corner and left in silence, part of him hoped Pinkie would run out after him and believe him. But he knew she needed time. A day, a month, a year, or the rest of her life. He was okay with it, no matter how long it—

"WAAAAIIITT!"

... took.

As soon as he turned around, the stallion was nearly tackled to the ground in a tight hug by the pink earth pony. He heard the crinkling of paper as the letter he had given her fell to the ground. A wet feeling enveloped his chest, and he knew what it was.

"Please don't leave!" Pinkie sobbed. "I don't want you to leave! I'm sorry I left you alone, I was sad! I didn't mean to make you feel alone! Please don't leave to fight that meanie! Please don't... Please don't go..."

Her pleas turned into rambles as the tears came along. A small scene had formed in front of the store, where a few ponies had stopped to see the scene unfolding before them.

Lyon didn't care too much. But he cared that his friend was crying. Gently, he lifted her head up by her chin and wiped away the tears.

"Hey," he said softly, "it's okay. Don't cry."

"No it's not," she whined. "You're leaving me. Leaving us. I don't want you to leave me."

More tears came, running down Pinkie's face and matting the fur on her cheeks and neck. She sniffled, trying to hold it in. Lyon held her close, and she buried her face into the crane of his neck.

"Shh... are you sure you want that?" Lyon asked. He always dreaded asking a question like that, but it needed to be asked.

Pinkie buried her face deeper.

"Please don't say goodbye," she begged.

This ain't goodbye, Lyon. I'll come back. Námel kii.

Awful. It was awful. All of it awful. He'd follow them if he left, and yet he still dared to think it.

Lyon hugged Pinkie tighter, as if afraid she'd slip away from him. Or perhaps he was afraid he'd slip away from her.

"Okay," he whispered. "Okay. I won't leave. I won't leave you."

"P... Promise...?" she asked in a broken voice.

Lyon smiled emptily, yet all the more truthfully.

"Námel kii."

"Huh...?" she asked in a muffled, cult-like whisper.

"With my heart and my soul."

Pinkie held Lyon close, daring not to ever let him go. Her grip was always tight, he realized, yet so soft and welcoming.

He'd miss it, even if he would never admit it.

---

"Soooo..."

"So...?"

"Can you reeeallly transform into sandwiches, or am I just overthinking it? If so, have you ever been almost eaten? Or did you ever see someone eating a sandwich and think, "Oh no, little Billie!"?"

"Uh..."

Pinkie and Lyon were walking side-by-side along the outskirts of Ponyville, with the former asking more questions than she could think. That included the idea of Lyon being able to transform into a hay sandwich.

He could only imagine the ramifications if that was possible. Goodbye, love for spaghetti.

Every question she asked him, most of them were definite noes. Well, except for those that asked what his favorite book or food was.

He didn't care as long as Pinkie was smiling again, which didn't take long to accomplish; the mare was far cheerier than she was before, and far more bizarre, especially with the questions she asked. And yet, it was still tame compared to how she usually was.

"Have you ever looked like anypony else I know?"

"No," Lyon answered with a tilt of his head, "this is the only form I've taken."

"Ever?"

"Well, not ever, but this is my go-to. Not just because it's a pain to change form... literally... but this is the first form I ever made. It just felt like me, you know? This is what I always saw myself as."

"Well, I like it! It's cute!" Pinkie giggled, blushing lightly.

Lyon chuckled softly, his face flushing light as well as he rubbed the back of his head. "Thanks. I... got that a lot. It's been a while, though."

He awaited another question from the curious pony, but when he turned to her, she was looking at him almost confusedly.

"You're kinda different," she said in surprise.

"What do you mean?"

"You! You talk kinda different, you act kinda different, and you even move kinda different! But it's still you! But you're like two different ponies at once!"

He understood now. "Oh. Yeah. I forget that too."

He laughed.

"It's that potion. Ever since the wedding, my brain's been trying to catch back up with five years of separate memories to add on. Sometimes I'll be in Lyon mode, and then I'll be in Lyon mode without realizing it."

"That sounds exhausting," Pinkie said, earning another laugh from Lyon.

"It is. But I don't mind it that much. I liked who I was. Well... except for right at the end when I kinda called everyone an idiot."

Pinkie flushed with embarrassment. "I think everyone was being a little unfair. Even me."

"No. You were just cautious, that's all. Just... too cautious."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I don't think any of us really had any idea what we were dealing with until it was hitting us in the face."

"But at least you were able to warn us? Right? ... Even if we didn't listen?"

Lyon chuckled lightly. "Yeah. That's true."

After several minutes of walking along the dirt path, they found themselves coming up on the entrance to Sweet Apple Acres. Originally, Lyon had intended for it to be the last stop of the group, if not Golden Oak Library. But it couldn't wait; he had to see Applejack or it would be too soon. With Pinkie at his side, he'd hoped the process would be easier, if not more lifting than weighing.

As the two entered the orchard, they found no trace of Applejack. There was only Big Macintosh bucking away at the trees. He didn't seem entirely cheery, given the expression on his face, they noticed as they approached.

"Does he know you're a changeling?" Pinkie asked, curious.

"We're about to find out," Lyon answered.

With a final buck against one tree, the apples fell almost flawlessly into the buckets scattered around its base; a couple fell into the grass, only to be picked up and placed in. As Big Mac picked one of the apples off the ground, he saw Pinkie and Lyon staring him back. Big Mac greeted Pinkie with a nod and a smile, but when he turned to Lyon, the smile faded, but no glare or fit of rage ever came. Just disappointment, it seemed.

"Hi, Big Mac," Pinkie exclaimed softly, hoping to lift his spirits again briefly. It somewhat worked.

"Howdy, Ms. Pie. I... take it you two are looking for Applejack?"

"Yeah," Lyon said. "It's kind of... urgent."

Big Mac exhaled quickly through his nose, but his face didn't change.

"AJ ain't feeling too good today, I'm afraid. I think she might've come down with the flu again."

"Please, Big Mac?" Pinkie pleaded. "We really need to talk to her. It'll only be for a couple minutes, I promise. Pinkie promise?"

Big Macintosh looked at Pinkie with a sorrowful stare, then glanced over to Lyon again. The farmer peered behind him, to the orchard household. He hummed deeply before letting out another sigh.

"Alright, then. She might kill me afterwards... but you can see her."

Pinkie smiled, but stopped when he lifted a hoof.

"But just you, Ms. Pie. I need to have a quick talk with Lyon here. Just a little talk, nothing more."

Lyon wasn't sure what to think of it, but he didn't protest against it. It wouldn't exactly be a smart decision, anyhow. Pinkie looked over to Lyon hesitantly, but he waved his hoof.

"I'll be fine. It's probably for the best, yeah?"

"You lied to us."

Pinkie gave Lyon a brief smile, then proceeded to make her way past the two stallions. Her curvy figure grew smaller the further away she was, until she was a small dot. She approached the front door and was greeted by a tired Granny Smith, who practically beckoned her inside. The two mares disappeared into the household, leaving Big Mac and Lyon alone.

The burly farmer watched Lyon almost intently, as if waiting for something.

"How much did she tell you?" Lyon asked.

"Enough," Big Mac answered.

"Enough like... the fact that I'm a changeling...?"

"Eeyup. And it's because of AJ's begging and Ms. Pie that I ain't already knocked you good."

Lyon cleared his throat.

"Good to know," he said as he looked over to the house's top floor. At first, the windows were dark inside, as if the lights had been shut off. But a moment later, an orange silhouette stood in one of the frames. It didn't take long for Lyon to recognize the figure, who promptly turned away a second later, disappearing into the darkness of the interior.

"I take it Ms. Pie is accompanying along for a good reason?"

"It's a long story, but... yeah. Bit of a change in plans."

"Mm-hmm."

Lyon tapped the dirt beneath him, as if waiting for Big Mac to do something, even though he already said he wouldn't, and he hoped he would stick to that. He always admired Big Macintosh for everything he had done, whether it was on the farm or for the general folks of Ponyville. He always seemed like a reasonable person. He couldn't see that reason fade away now.

"There's a lot I wanna tell you. But I've got my reasons why I didn't before."

"I'm sure you do."

"I do," Lyon repeated, "I just... You remember Zecora, right? The zebra?"

Of course, everyone knew Zecora by now. But Lyon mentioned her if it meant Big Mac would be more convinced, and it seemed to be the case. Regardless, he still gave the smaller stallion quite the stare-down.

"Given what I've heard went down up there, you can understand if I'm not so understanding."

Reluctantly, Lyon nodded. "I know."

The distant sound of the house front door opening twice caught Lyon's attention. He and Big Macintosh turned to see Applejack exiting the farmhouse and walking towards them, Pinkie Pie following behind her with a cautious eye. Right away, Lyon could see anguish and exhaustion clear on the farm mare's face, and he had wondered if she even went to sleep. Her walk was a little hobbled, a bit of a simultaneous limp and a forceful push forward, as if to keep from falling on her face.

The two mares stopped in front of the two stallions. Applejack snorted upon glancing at Lyon, then turned to her brother.

"I need a minute alone with him, Big Mac," she said to him. "I won't need any backup. Just a minute."

Big Mac said nothing, only nodding briefly before beginning to walk away. He turned to Pinkie and also gave her a nod before he retreated silently to a nearby section of the field, leaving Applejack and Pinkie alone with Lyon.

Occasionally, the party pony would glance at Applejack, then to Lyon, like she was nervous as to what her friend would do. But Lyon wasn't nervous. Applejack was a rational being, no matter the situation. He knew her that much.

Slowly, Applejack walked up to Lyon and eyed him, from his chest to his own eyes looking her back. It was a silent few seconds.

"... Hey—"

Before he realized it, his head had turned a full 90 degrees to the right, and a firm smacking sound echoed around him for a second; immediately after, his cheek began to sting.

"Applejack!" Pinkie exclaimed, but Lyon calmed her down... as gently as he could.

"It's fine," Lyon insisted with a brief hiss of air. "I... had it coming."

"You're damn right you—!" Applejack shouted at him, but paused and let out a frustrated grunt. "Gah... no. No, you didn't. I... I mean, you did, but... you didn't, either."

Applejack sighed and scrunched her lips, then rubbed her closed eyes wearily. Lyon brought a hoof up to his stung cheek and rubbed it weakly. He grimaced as the scale of the slap started to take effect.

In short, Applejack hits hard when she means it.

"Pinkie told me whatever you told her this morning," Applejack explained. "From the changeling queen and your... uh, plan... to... Zecora."

Lyon let out a small laugh at the mention of his plan—even he admitted it seemed silly—but it stopped as soon as she mentioned Zecora.

"Is that true?"

Lyon nodded, pulling his hoof away from his face. "Yeah."

"So you didn't remember who you used to be until the wedding?"

"Yeah."

Applejack swirled her tongue around in her mouth for a moment. She looked back to Pinkie, whose expression had gradually calmed in the last few moments, but she was still clearly wary.

"I'm fine now, Pinkie. I promise."

The claim didn't entirely convince her, but Pinkie's posture softened to Applejack's relief. She turned back to Lyon.

"So you were never trying to use me or anything?"

Lyon shook his head. "No. I'd never do that."

"But... you're a changeling."

"That doesn't mean I'd do that," Lyon softly rebuked. "I'm not like them."

Even then, Applejack didn't seem to fully believe him, given the look of suspicion on her face, but she seemed willing to put it aside if it meant the conversation went anywhere. But anytime she tried to ask a question, it would be drowned out in the barrage of other questions in her head, or by an occasional yawn coming from her throat.

"She said you were leaving? To fight the queen? Or you were?"

"Were. I was thinking about it since yesterday. But really, that's all I've done, is just think about it. It's easier said than done."

"But you were gonna do it anyway."

"... Yeah..."

Applejack shook her head and sighed.

"Guess you really are Lyon, after all."

Lyon laughed through his nose and smiled briefly. When he looked up at Applejack, she was yawning again, and being so close, he was able to see the bags under her eyes to show she was no doubt exhausted.

"Maybe we should get you to bed before you pass out? Please?" Pinkie suggested, but Applejack dismissed her.

"No. I need to know the truth first. Every bit of it. No more any of us running off and delaying this. I... that was my fault. But I need to know now. You owe me that, right?"

Lyon breathed slowly and nodded.

"Okay. But on one condition: You get some sleep first."

"I said I—"

"You can barely stand right. Pinkie's right, the last thing we need is for you to pass out." He held his hoof in the air to keep speaking. "I'll tell you everything. Tonight, I'll tell you everything. But I need some time to gather it up. Plus, I think it's best we gather up the others for this. I want all of you to hear it at the same time. Best that way. Understand?"

Applejack scrunched her lips again, but she knew there would be no point in arguing any further. He was right, too. She was on the verge of keeling over any minute now.

"Promise me," she demanded. "Pinkie Promise me that you'll tell the truth tonight, then. Only way I can trust it."

She was right on that. She knew that from experience, he remembered. Though he hadn't gone with them to Appleoosa a few months back, he still knew of it from what they shared with him. And it was then that he too knew how important it was.

"Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye," Lyon chanted, mimicking flying gestures and pretending to stick a hoof into his eye. The gestures themselves were relatively silly to him, but at the same time, they were far from.

Applejack nodded without a word to say for the moment. She cleared her throat, her eyes growing heavier by the minute, it seemed.

"Alright. I'll get some rest. But you darn well better be home tonight, because I will."

Unable to say anything else due to growing fatigue, Applejack retreated from the two earth ponies and started for the farmhouse. In the distance, Big Mac watched as his oldest sister walked almost lazily away, giving an occasional yawn every now and again.

"Alright... we should go talk to the others. We'll let her sleep. Okay?" Lyon said, looking to Pinkie, who watched Applejack leave them. After a moment, she agreed, and the two started for the path to leave Sweet Apple Acres.

As they passed the entrance sign, Lyon couldn't help but notice the frown on Pinkie's face. It wasn't a deep frown, but it wasn't light, either.

"You okay?" he asked her.

"Yeah. I'm okay," she answered. "I just... I feel bad that we all have to deal with this."

Lyon sighed, his eyes catching the sight of Ponyville ahead. He felt a sense of sorrow or dread creep up on his chest.

"Yeah... Me too."

Author's Note:

Sorry for the sudden ending to the chapter! Was feeling a bit fatigued myself when I finished it and didn't want to take any longer than expected to publish!

The next chapter will skip ahead a bit, but not too much. Regardless, there will be a great deal of explaining! Hoping to advance things forward a bit more so we're not on chapter 30 and still dealing with the aftermath of the wedding.

Comments

[JazzTheFox53rd]

The suspense is killing me!

[Muramasa]

Glad to see the gang coming around. I have a distinct feeling that Lyon won't be facing Chrysalis alone when it comes time to confront her.

[SolitariLupus]

Any updates soon?

[I Am The Night]

10081018

Yep! About 12 hours after this comment is posted! Sorry for the wait!