• Published 1st Jul 2020
  • 362 Views, 31 Comments

Into the Deep - TwilightSparkle484



Caves. Deep, dark, and dangerous. A paltry, trivial dare. Fulfilled just for fun? Tribulations, and secrets, lurk in the shadows.

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Chapter 4: Wandering, Wondering, and Wayfaring

The sound of my feet slapping against the cold ground sent echoes reverberating throughout the cave. My lungs resisted every attempt I made to keep my breathing even. A deep inhale. A long exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Then, a ragged breath would impenetrate my self-calming exercise, and I would be forced to restart.

Unwanted thoughts raced through my mind.

I walked to the nearest stalactite and, sharply, whipped back around to march to a pillar near the river. I pivoted again and stomped back to the stalactite. I had resorted to pacing.

What was I thinking? Of course, unsupervised, amateur, overnight spelunking was a bad idea! (That was a mouthful.) I never should’ve agreed to this. I shouldn’t even have said a word when Rainbow challenged Applejack to a dare. It wasn’t my place to interfere.

I bumped into the pillar.

Flinching a bit, I chastised myself for being so clumsy. Pacing wasn’t my specialty. That was Twilight’s forte. I wondered why she didn’t stop me from coming here. Then, I remembered that she had tried, coming up with a slew of theories about what could go wrong. I had countered her argument by declaring that I needed to explore the world. I shook my head. Exploring the world had gotten me into my current position - clueless about how to reach Applejack. I greatly wished I was back at the castle following Twilight around, running errands, taste-testing royal sweets, or simply just spending time with my sister. A pang of sadness pelted my heart. I pinched myself. I had to focus to get out of here.

I swung around and headed back to the stalactite. The echoes I made were now imperceptible to my ears.

What would Twilight do if she was here? Instinctively, she would pace the floor until one of us came up with a solution or I could convince her to stop.

Suddenly, I was motionless for the first time since Applejack had left me. Realization dawned that I was usually the one to help Twilight calm down in and work out stressful situations. That meant I would have to be the one to toughen up and help myself. Pacing was out of the question.

At that moment, I remembered the real reason why I had tagged along with Applejack. . .

“Twilight, I know you’re worried,” I had said. “I wouldn’t want you to go into a cave by yourself either. But, that’s just it. I won’t be by myself. I’ll have Applejack by my side the entire time. That’s why I’m going, Twi. To be there for Applejack if she needs me, when she needs me. If I can do that, she’ll be there for me. We’ll protect each other, Twilight, and I know, no- I promise- we’ll be safe.

Applejack wasn’t by my side now, but she probably needed my help. I had promised to protect her, and that’s why I had decided to come. I straightened my shoulders and gazed confidently at the river. I would find a way to get to her. She believed I would, and I assumed Twilight would too if she were here. If they both had faith in me, then I believed I could too.

I sifted through a list of ideas. A raft would give me something stable to sit on if I drifted down the river. My eyes searched the area around me. I would have to search for logs, if there even were any in the cave. Assembling a raft would also take a considerable amount of time, which was something I didn’t have to waste. I tried to calculate how long I had paced the floor. To my chagrin, I concluded that Applejack could be anywhere by now.

I quickened my thinking. I could build a bridge across the river. But, again, I would have to spend time looking for a long, sturdy wood plank. Grunting, I pushed that idea to the side as well. I could attempt to tread along the narrow stone crack between the river and the adjacent rock wall. (This was the wall that prevented Applejack and I from continuing the way we were originally going; it extended as far down the river as the eye could see.) I dismissed the thought mere seconds after I had conjured it. The risk of falling into the water was too high.

I shook my head in frustration. Time was running out. There had to be a way to get across. There just had to be. My wings drooped to my sides as I released a weary sigh.

Wait.

My wings!

I spread them out and gaped at the appendages in awe. Finally, the answer I was looking for had appeared. I scolded myself for not thinking of them sooner. The idea should have come to me naturally. Heck, I should have flown to Applejack the second she hit the water. Panicking had prevented me from thinking clearly.

Ashamed, I took flight within mere moments. My intention was to fly as fast as I could, but that was impossible due to the number of stalactites hanging precariously just overhead and around me. I had to settle for a pace that just barely allowed me to safely maneuver around them. Air currents were nonexistent inside the cave. Flying took pure wing power and muscle.

I occasionally glanced down at the river below me. The water churned and flowed, forming little ripples that reminded me of bubble baths years ago. I seemed to be flying only a tad faster than the current. Nonetheless, it was a sign of hope. If I could only go a little faster, I’d be able to make up for some lost ground. Seconds later, I pondered over whether it was too late for any of my efforts to really make a difference. What if Applejack couldn’t find a place to get back on the ground like she had promised? I suddenly wished I were Rainbow Dash. Able to get from place to place in a heartbeat, her speed would surely benefit me right now. Straining, I forced my wings to flap harder. Futile effort or not, I had to try.

I flew for several minutes. As time passed, my hopes began to sputter like a dying candle. I looked for Applejack in every spot within my peripheral vision. I couldn’t find her. A sense of dread pervaded me, suggesting that I had somehow missed her at some point minutes ago. I resisted the urge to go back. Another part of me argued that she was still somewhere up ahead. Somewhere. Cold, wet, but somewhere, surely. . .

I don’t remember exactly when it happened, but in the midst of my anguished search, likely just as my wings were beginning to tire, I heard a voice crying out to me.

“Spike!” The shout came.

My heart fluttered and stopped at the same time. It could have been my mind playing tricks on me, but if not, Applejack was safe. No, wait. I hadn’t seen her yet. She could’ve still been in danger. The shout was certainly a cry for help … or was that joy in her voice?

“Spike, over here!”

The call was louder this time, and the echo persisted for longer too. I was getting closer. I searched hungrily for the source of the voice.

There!

On a flat section of rock to the left side of the river sat Applejack, smiling and waving. A flood of relief washed over me. The Blue Moon River forked at this point, narrowing further and further until only a small creek barely wider than my claw remained on both sides. Better yet, Applejack was all right.

Immediately, I swooped down to where she sat and enveloped her in a hug. To my surprise, she was only faintly cold. I assumed the hoodie she was wearing had played a part in that.

I let go of Applejack after a few, heartwarming seconds. “I was so worried about you,” I said.

“You were? Aw, shucks. There was no need for that, fella. Didn’t you think I’d come out all right? Even Apple Bloom could’ve swum through that river just fine.”

“I know you’re strong, but you were already exhausted from the whole avalanche thing. Then there’s the sharp rocks you could’ve bumped into and the cold water-. What if you have hypothermia or something?!”

Applejack put a hoof on my shoulder. “Relax, Spike. Everythin’ turned out all right, and I doubt I got hypothermia. Okay?”

“Fine. But keep your hoodie on, at least. Just in case.”

Applejack sighed. “Now you’re startin’ to sound like Twi.”

“Just doing my job,” I replied. I flashed her a grin.

“I set up some lunch for us,” Applejack said. She tipped her head at the paper bags and blanket laying on the ground behind me. “Thought you’d be hungry.”

“You bet.” I seated myself at the bag labeled with my name and immediately shoved a gem into my mouth. “Were you . . . really,” I asked through my chewing, “here for this long?”

Applejack selected an apple from her assortment of food. “Yep.”

“The current was that fast?”

“Mmhm.” AJ took a large bite of the apple. “What took you so long anyways?”

“Oh,” I said, blushing. “I kinda let anxiety get the best of me.”

“Lemme guess. You put your wings in a hay barrel and locked ‘em in there ‘till some sense knocked ya on the head twen’y minutes later.”

“Huh?”

“I’m bein’ metaphorical.”

I blinked until a light bulb came on. “Ohhh. Yeah, basically.”

“Yep. Definitely too much Twilight.”

I sighed and plucked a leaf from my daffodil and daisy sandwich. “I miss her.”

“Twilight?”

“Yeah.”

Applejack twirled her hat absentmindedly on a hoof. “I miss my family too. Especially Apple Bloom. Wonder what that filly’s up to. She and Mac were supposed to take a cider order down to some town in the south today.”

“It’s cider season already?”

“Uh huh.”

“Aw, man. It’s so hard to keep track of these things nowadays. There’s always other stuff happening up in Canterlot. Do you think you can reserve a special order for me?”

Applejack raised an eyebrow. “Now, Spike…”

“Twilight can even stamp it with the Official Royal Seal of Approval. That’ll make it important.”

“You know that ain’t fair to the customers who camp overnight and wait outside for hours just for a mug. You’ll have to come in person, Spike. That’s the only way you can get some. Apple Family rule.”

“Oh, all right. But just know I’ll be there.”

Applejack dusted crumbs from her coat. “We better get goin’. We still got a long ways ahead of us.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, a hint of disappointment in my voice. I had enjoyed our peaceful reprieve from adventure. I didn’t want to imagine what we could encounter next.

“Hey,” I remarked, pausing my clean-up routine to address Applejack. “How come those ponies with the cider order get a free pass?”

Applejack froze. “Uh. . . Well, you see, they’re a company plannin’ this annual party, and, uh, they placed the order right after last year’s cider season. So, uh, since we made a pact, they’re a priority at the moment.”

“Hmph. That’s it?”

“Um … they might’ve given us a small tip as well.” At this point, Applejack’s face was as red as the apple she had just eaten. “Heh, heh. Yeah…”

I pouted as I heaved my backpack on to my back. “Life’s so unfair.”

Applejack sighed. “I’ll see what I can do for you.”

“Yes!” Applejack earned another hug from me.

She pushed me away. “Let’s just not bring this up again. Ever.”

“My lips,” my claw closed the imaginary zipper on my mouth, “are sealed.”

“Come on, now. We better get movin’ if we’re gonna beat the clock.”

The thought of the time crunch lingered in the air like the stench of mold … which, come to think of it, was, in reality, present everywhere in the cave.

AJ and I crossed over the now shallow and narrowing stream and resumed our navigational attempts. Just as a mold-induced headache began to work its way into my skull, I again noticed a black shadow at the edge of my line of vision. I whipped around; this time prepared with my fire breath at the ready. Surprisingly, nothing out of the ordinary showed its face. I frowned, worrying that something was affecting my eyesight. However, a stern call from Applejack brought me back to the present. Temporarily dismissing my concerns, I hurried to catch up to her.


An enormous, jagged rock loomed precariously over my head. Warily, I stepped to the side to avoid it, only half-listening to AJ’s ramblings about some event that happened seven years ago. It’s crazy how reminiscing can get her talking non-stop for hours – which is how long we had been wandering around the cave. Even crazier was the number of times I’d seen rocks so similar to the one we just passed. Something wasn’t right. I could tell by the way my scales prickled with apprehension.

I completely tuned out Applejack’s voice and meticulously studied my surroundings. According to her, we were making lots of progress. I couldn’t exactly see that though, largely because there wasn’t a map to dictate whether we were actually going anywhere close to the cave’s exit.

I shivered. The cave was damp, and my fading energy worsened the effect.

Applejack rounded the bend, chuckling to herself. “… Yep, that’s how Big Mac’s always put it. There ain’t no better way to fuel a fire than turning up the heat. Am I right? Heh, heh. Phew. Well I suppose you could add more wood…” She banged her head on a low overhang. “Yow!”

“I was going to warn you,” I mumbled.

“Then why didn’t ya,” Applejack replied, scowling.

I just shrugged. To be honest, I felt bad for being disrespectful, but being on the verge of begging her to stop talking so much was a good enough excuse, in my opinion.

Applejack stared at me until it was clear I wasn’t going to formulate any sort of proper response. Gritting her teeth and letting out a rush of air through her nostrils, she turned back around and ducked her head under the overhang.

“The path slopes,” she said quietly after a few seconds. She withdrew her head from beneath the rock to glance at me. There was the faintest trace of guilt in her green eyes. “Watch your step.”

We slipped under the overhang and began to trek cautiously downward. It was quiet now, much too silent. The all too familiar sounds and scents of the underground crept back toward me, having been washed away earlier by the warmth of Applejack’s voice. I was ashamed of myself for making things cold and dramatic. I should’ve made sure AJ’s injury wasn’t that serious. I should’ve at least made an attempt to enjoy her tales. They were interesting. That I could discern from when I was paying attention during the first half hour or so after our lunch. I had been anything but supportive, and I was failing my mission.

I wondered why I was so soft like that. Instantly feeling remorseful about a small, nearly insignificant wrongdoing was not a typical dragon’s first instinct. I knew I had been raised differently and was both proud and glad that was the case. Still, at times, I wished I could be a little less pathetic. No, pathetic was the wrong word. My emotions were morally correct this time. Inadequate was more fitting. Yes, I was inadequate by dragon standards.

I sighed, feeling sorry for myself. But like a drop of water matched against a flame, it didn’t extinguish the silence.

We continued walking downward, but it wasn’t long before the unforgiving ground changed its mind and began to slope upwards. So, we climbed, doing our best not to slip in the opposite direction. I heard the faint sound of the river for a few, brief seconds. But the sound died away as we drifted to the right. A part of me wondered whether Applejack had purposefully wandered in this direction. It was certainly possible that she was avoiding the river for fear of retracing our steps. I tried to distinguish her thoughts from her expression. The effort was pointless, however, since she was constantly on the lookout for anything unusual or dangerous now that the mood had darkened. I wanted to apologize but was looking for the right moment to do so.

We entered another chamber, this one devoid of cryptographs on its walls. I wrapped my arms around myself as I walked. The chill was seemingly worsening. Either that or my mind was toying with my senses. Fungus grew on those empty walls, sprawling out in all directions. The stench here was overpowering. I held a glove to my nose and attempted to hold my breath. Applejack quickened her strides, and I hurried in unison.

I panted heavily once we reached the exit. I could hear Applejack doing the same as she stopped to lean against a wall for a few moments.

I decided to take the opportunity. “Applejack, I-”

“You know what’s funny, Spike,” she interrupted. She turned to face me, a small smile on her face.

“Oh, uh, what?” I asked, relieved that her cheerfulness had somewhat returned.

“In all the while that we’ve been stuck in this place, we’ve never once seen the Calcium Sea thing that was on the flyer.”

“Maybe it’s somewhere up ahead,” I suggested, shrugging.

“Yeah, maybe. But I feel that we ought to have seen it at some point.”

I bit my lip in concentration. “It doesn’t help that there wasn’t a picture of it…” I snapped my fingers in sudden realization. “Oh, yeah!”

“What?” Applejack cocked her head.

“Remember all the stalactites and stalagmites we ran into right after we escaped from the rocks?”

“Uh huh.”

“That was probably it! I mean, it’s not a waterbody full of calcium, but I guess lots of sparkly columns and pillars can kind of count as a sea.”

Applejack nodded, and then laughed. “I see what you mean there.”

“Ha, ha! Get it? See what you mean. You know, like a sea, S-E-A, of calcium.”

Applejack groaned. “That was really bad, Spike.”

I grinned. “I know.” I then took on a more serious tone. “Hey, um, I’m sorry about earlier.”

“You don’t got nothin’ to apologize for. It’s my fault. I got carried away with all my prattlin’ that I lost track of time, and, well, forgot to make sure you were okay.” She gave me a quick hug. “You were just expressing your feelings, and I respect that.”

My shoulders slumped. “It still wasn’t right of me to act like that.”

“Oh, come on now. Quit beatin’ yourself up. It was hardly anythin’, and I said it wasn’t your fault. Twilight wouldn’t want you putting all this blame on yourself for no reason, now, would she?”

“I guess not.”

Applejack cupped a hoof under my chin and forced my eyes to meet hers. “You’re a good dragon, Spike, and more importantly, a good friend. Don’t let anypony convince you otherwise. You hear?”

I nodded. “Thanks. I’m not that great at upholding my self-esteem.”

Applejack patted me on the shoulder and rose to her hooves. “That’s something you should work on.”

“I will,” I acquiesced. “Thanks for everything.”

“No problem, sugarcube. Now, let’s get movin’. We’ve been at this for hours, and I’m not too sure if we’re making progress anymore.”

“Ah, so you admit,” I teased.

“I didn’t say that,” Applejack countered, already up and trotting. “I’m just a little worried, that’s all.”



“Hold on!” I exclaimed. In the span of roughly a quarter-hour, we had made it back to the familiar rock from before.

“What’s wrong?” Applejack questioned, her brow furrowed.

I pointed at the boulder. “That rock. This is the fourth time we’ve passed it. Which means…” I raced ahead for a few moments, only stopping when I reached the overhang Applejack had barged into. “That’s the passage we just went through.”

Applejack groaned. “Crab apples. That’s it all right.” She massaged her temples and sighed. “I just want to know how we missed that every other time we came ‘round this way.”

I looked upward thoughtfully, intently scanning through my memory bank for the explanation. “I think … we went down the passage on the left instead of using this one the first two times.”

Applejack closed her eyes and released a long, tired exhale.

“So, is now a good time to use the map?”

“As much as I don’t like it, I think you’re right, Spike,” she muttered. “Ain’t no other way we’re gonna get out of here.”

Applejack reluctantly rummaged through her saddlebags for the map in question.

“Besides,” I remarked, “Rainbow never actually said we couldn’t use it.”

She paused her search. “I guess that’s true.”

Upon finding it, she plucked the map from the bag and unfurled it on the floor. The edges curled gradually forward due to having been coiled and bent. Despite Applejack’s endeavors, they refused to be flattened. Eventually she left them be. Their demeanor reminded me of infinitely growing ocean waves. The swells would expand at an increasingly rapid rate until the fool standing in the way was struck by them. They wouldn’t notice the waves until it was too late. The same would apply to us if we were unlucky: Struck by waves of truth. We’d only notice them when realization dawns that it’s too late to exit the cave before the deadline – all because we were stubbornly sitting by the shore, refusing to acknowledge the looming threat due to our pride.

I set aside my literary thinking and joined Applejack’s side. My stomach dropped as soon as my gaze landed on the map before me. To my horror, it wasn’t anything like I had imagined. The pathways were marked by thin, black lines which spiraled in all directions like spiderwebs. Landmarks were labeled in Old Ponish, a dead language I only recognized because of years of assisting Twilight with her research. To make matters worse, the images corresponding with the landmarks were crude drawings that resembled the work of a filly instead of the refined, magic-laser-printed masterpieces they were meant to be. The whole map disgracefully bore more semblance to a maze of some sort than a reference guide.

“What is this?” I demanded, furiously gesturing to the paper.

Applejack shook her head. “That’s another reason why I wasn’t so keen on using it. I took a look at it before we came in, and…” She whistled in dissatisfaction. “I’ve never seen anything so ridiculous, professional-wise at least.”

“This doesn’t even make sense! Just look at it! You’d think Flurry Heart drew it, or something!”

Applejack held the map aloft to allow her headlamp to shine upon it. She then rotated it in her hooves, vainly hoping that a different angle would suddenly give us an understanding.

“Crab apples,” Applejack spat again.

I let my chin rest on my palms. “Now what?” I asked, dispirited.

Applejack took a long swig from a nearby canteen. She poured the rest of the water over her head, washing away some of the dirt that coated her body. She shook her head to clear the water from her nose and eyes. “We do our best with what we got.” AJ dried her hooves on a blanket and rose with the map in her possession. “Which means making do with this thing.”

I stood up as well. “Prepare to get even more lost,” I joked.

Applejack snorted and after a long, hard look at the map, retreated back toward the giant boulder and out of this section of the cavern.

“Let’s see,” she said, stopping for a moment. “Sort of looks like we head this way for a bit.” We started moving again. “Then go past this intersection.”

I smirked. “Sounds like we’re riding in a chariot or something.”

“I wish,” Applejack mumbled. “Now, we go up this way… Or, wait, maybe it’s down.” She squinted at the map. “This darn thing… I’m going with down, I think.”

“Over there?” I asked, pointing to a hallway.

“Supposedly,” AJ replied, shrugging in defeat.

From there, we crisscrossed through a number of rooms, backtracked a little, went through another tunnel, scaled a short wall, walked in a few loop de loops, and eventually crawled out of a hole and into another chamber.

“When we get out of here,” Applejack huffed, “I’m gonna have a serious talk with whoever’s managin’ this place. The whole layout is beyond senseless and their map is pathetically stupid.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” I countered, dusting my hands on my pants. “Maybe this is all just a mistake.”

“Oh, this ain’t no mistake. Just wait ‘till I get to that manager. They’re gonna be so sorry they-”

“Gems!” I cried, my face alight with wonder.

“Pardon?”

“Gems! Over there! Look!” I exclaimed, nearly bouncing. I pointed in the direction of a display of sparkling, luminous gemstones embedded into a wall. Their glow was so captivating it seemed almost magical. I raced over and spread my arms wide across the valuables. “There must be hundreds,” I breathed. “Forget about a sea of calcium. We’re in the Jewel Ocean now.”

Applejack’s rage dissipated as she snickered. “Let me guess. Half of ‘em are for you, and you’re haulin’ the other half back home to Rarity.”

I frowned as a blush crept onto my visage. “I didn’t say I was going to take any.” I patted a gemstone. “They’re Blue Moon Cave property. I read something about not removing, breaking, or vandalizing anything in a cave in the reference book Twilight gave me. The gems are for admiring only.”

“Twi gave you a book on caves?”

“Yep.”

Applejack looked as if she were about to make a comment, but she hesitated and instead extended a hoof in my direction. “Actually, could I have a look at it? Maybe it’ll be more useful than the atrocious map they gave us.”

I nodded and produced the book for her. It was quiet for a minute or two as Applejack flipped through the guide and I admired the gem wall. All of a sudden, I heard a faint rustling from above. Curious, I strained my ears and looked upward. I stumbled backward in horror as the chilling sight overhead filled my vision. Bats. So many bats. They occupied the entire ceiling of the chamber, hanging upside down ever so ominously. They were packed tightly in clusters, making it impossible to count them all. They must have outnumbered the gems.

I fought onerously to repress a cry of fear. My whole body trembled. I’d only had one direct encounter with bats. To say the least, it had not been pleasant. I slowly sidled back to Applejack and tapped a claw on her shoulder. I shushed her before she could speak and regretfully gestured to the bats above.

The book dropped with a deafening thud.

The bats went ballistic. Almost all awoke from their slumber and took to the air in a flurry of shrieks and flaps. Applejack and I screamed simultaneously, joining the symphony of noise. We clambered to our hooves and feet and instinctively shielded our heads from the creatures. As we darted around in terror and agony, the bats proceeded to swoop lower.

Applejack grabbed hold of me and flung me forward. My shriek registered louder than the bats as I shot through the air and landed painfully in a small pit at the room’s corner. I didn’t even have the chance to glance at my throbbing elbows before Applejack jumped in and knocked me against the wall. The space was just barely large enough to fit the two of us. Once my head stopped spinning, I crouched beside Applejack and stared apprehensively at the spectacle above. We stayed poised like that for several minutes. The bats flew in every direction and pierced the air with their sharp calls. Every so often, one would descend through the air seemingly right before our noses. But, for whatever reason, they avoided directly confronting our little hiding spot.

Within time, they calmed down, bat by bat, and commenced dispersing. Some scattered throughout the cave’s endless passages while the rest returned to their sleeping grounds. The last bat fluttered about in the center of the chamber as if hesitating about where to go. Eventually, it flew through a low exit in the wall opposite us. At last, from our viewpoint, the room was empty. I had never been so grateful to hear the sound of silence.

After waiting another minute or two to confirm our observation, Applejack slowly withdrew from the hole. Her eyes searched every corner of the room before turning upward to examine the bats.

“It’s safe,” Applejack said, keeping her voice low.

“Thank Celestia,” I whispered. I warily crawled into the open.

Applejack collected our belongings. “We need to get out of here.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” I remarked, double-checking to make sure there was no movement overhead. “I’m sick of this place.”

We plodded toward a narrow egress, this one far away from the exit the last bat used. Jumbled thoughts and emotions swarmed my mind. The book, tucked safely inside my backpack, thumped against me. I was reminded of Twilight, who was presumably having tea with some noble and not fending for her life inside a cave. I oscillated between feeling frightened, enraged, and despondent. Another part of me wondered whether we had been hit yet by the metaphorical wave.

As soon as we reached another spacious area several feet away from the bat roost, Applejack emitted a loud sneeze. Her expression immediately became one of concern. We listened intently for a reaction, every muscle tense. I was flooded with relief when nothing happened.

“I’m glad that happened now, and not a few minutes ago,” Applejack said. Her faint smile failed to conceal her exhaustion.

“Yeah,” I agreed. I pondered over my own weariness. The ache of my limbs and back rivaled the pain I had felt on some of our more extreme adventures. A heavy fog clouded my mind.

As I mused, the shadow from before, again, appeared out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head to look, but as always nothing was there. I rubbed my eyes with my fists. I was beginning to think I was going crazy. Something was definitely wrong.

At that particular moment, a foreboding rumble resonated from somewhere within the cave. My eyes widened in horror. Another rockslide was the only possible explanation. My heart pounded in my ears. It seemed almost impossible. The same threat from before certainly wouldn’t dare assault us again, especially after we had just evaded evil. The sound came again, only, louder this time. There was no denying the truth. Not this time.

My legs worked faster than my mind, ignoring their misery and carrying me forward faster than I had moved since we had arrived. “Don’t just stand there!” I screamed. “Run, Applejack! It’s the avalanche!”

“Spike, wait!” Applejack yelled.

“There’s no time!”

“Stop! You have to stop! Spike! Don’t run downhill! You can-”

I lost my footing as a loose rock skidded out from below me. I slipped, falling in slow motion. My head banged against the floor, and I tumbled downward. All control was lost as oblivion seized me by the shoulders.

Everything went black.

Author's Note:

Thanks for reading! :heart:
Please let me know if you find any errors. I'm planning three to four more chapters, so plenty of excitement still ahead. As always, feel free to share your thoughts, predictions, and/or questions in the comments. :twilightsmile: