3. It 'Aint Sayin' Much - 1003 A.C.
NOTE: It's not spelling mistakes! (Mostly) It was a test run to try out writing in an accent. If it's too painful to read for you guys, I guess I'll need to amend the whole chapter. 
Year - 1003 A.C.
"He don't talk much."
That was pretty much the first thing everypony said if asked about Big Mac.
"Big Mac? Yeah, he don't talk much."
That was usually the start, and also end, of any enquiry regarding Big Mac. Because what more was there to say really? He didn't say much, so likewise, there was not much to say about him.
Besides, he was basically just a moving piece of background on hooves when it came to the Apple family. Applejack was the one who stood front and center whenever anypony looked to the Apple family.
She got all the attention, and also all the responsibility, of being an Element of Harmony. Ponies from out of town were always comin' through, looking to talk to any of the 'gals. Or from in town too, for that matter.
Big Mac. He didn't say much. Words were hard. Ponies spoke to you, an' you had to try and find a response, an' you were taking too long, an' they were staring at you impatiently, and "Nope" and "Eeyup" were all his clumsy tongue could seem to manage.
Eeyup and Nope were simple. Eeyup and Nope got the job done, didn't they? And Eeyup and Nope were all anypony expected of him by now.
Big Mac's secret special-talent seemed to be only thinking up the perfect response half-an-hour after a conversation was over. Not that he told anypony that joke. Because, again, talking.
Big Mac didn't talk much. He heard and saw a lot instead.
Thought all the time, too. Thought and thought, and overthought. Thought and wished he could just turn his darned brain off.
He didn't need ta' be worrying all the time about the new saplings over in the east orchard for example, not when he was working in the west orchard, or when he was washing up, or when he was hauling the cart, or digging out the clogged stream, or trying to control Applebloom. He didn't need to be worrying extra. He was already worried, but was that good enough? Hay naw, course not! His brain had ta' remind him of his worries all the time when it didn't need to be.
What's more, worrying more couldn't do nothing. Like with saplings. He'd dug, dunged, and watered all the new saplings the very best he could. There ain't no more he could do there.
But his darn brain just wouldn't leave a problem well-enough alone. The saplings were just one example from months ago. He'd known it would be fine, and it was fine, but did that help?
Nope! He just moved on ta' fixate on the next problem he had no control over.
Big Mac didn't talk much. And he didn't talk about his silent, dumb worries.
---O---
Dragging the weed rake through the soft earth, stopping after every five to six stroke to de-weed the rake's teeth into the barrow, Big Mac worried about if he'd get this stretch done one time. And about if he fell behind, about how he'd have to work faster on the stretch after that. And then the one after that. And that one too.
---
Sitting at the table, eating his way through a heaped serving of oats for lunch, he looked at Granny and worried about her age, about how time was catching up, about how nothing terrible had gone wrong health wise yet, and about how much worse t'would make it at some indeterminate time in the future.
---
Laboriously hammering in another fence post stake, sweating lightly in the sun, he worried about Winona one day running off into the Everfree and not ever coming back out. She was a good girl, and always came when called, but what if one day she got too excited chasing a squirrel and didn't hear them hollering?
---
Trotting down the lane to pick up Applebloom from primary school, he worried about if'n she'd be there when he arrived, of if she'd gone haring off with Scoots and Sweetie again, and about the time that would mean wastin' in searching, and about what if, this time, they finally got themselves really hurt?
---
Washing the dust and dirt from his hooves in the outdoor basin, muscles that lethargic aching after a full day of hard work, he worried about if'n the yard pump suddenly packed up. About how that would mean having to take the whole thing apart, and what if he couldn't figure out what was wrong with it? Then what? How much time and effort would it waste getting the pump working again?
---O---
These were the things Big Mac worried about in a day. Pointless things which he had no say-so over.
He worried about his sister Applejack.
She was an Element of Harmony, a defender of Equestria. A national hero! She'd stood up against evil and triumphed at every turn!
Mac lay awake in his bed as the farm house gently creaked in familiar ways, and thought; 'And none of that don't mean she might not come home one day.'
'Jack went out there, to far away places with a big grin on her face, because the other five 'gals needed her, because the Princesses called, and because it was the right thing to do. She weren't the sort to ever say no to anypony in need, no-siree.
"It's ma' duty. I gotta' responsibility to Equestria. If'n I can't step up an' help make the world a more honest place, I couldn't look ma'self in the mirror every mornin'." Those had been the exact words she'd once privately confided in him and Granny.
Big Mac didn't talk much. He didn't have the correct words to express to 'Jack how little that helped, not when she'd just made her stance clear. An' anyway, how did he have a hoof to stand on when she was the one going out there risking her neck and he wasn't?
Except... except... what about them? What about him an' Applebloom and Granny? Or mainly just him and Granny, since Applebloom didn't understand it yet.
Or was it just him? Did Granny have more faith than he did?
Was it just Big Mac who had to wait uselessly in dread of one day an apologetic Royal Messenger coming back, and not his sister instead?
The good of Equestria was supposed to be worth more than the good of one family, right? But that hadn't never soothed the cold voice of selfish worry he kept hidden inside and never voiced.
Big Mac didn't talk much. And he worried about things he had no say over.
---
"An' don't let me forget to put them pumpkins into the shade ah' midday, ya' hear?"
"Yep." Big Mac repeated. For the fifth time.
"Yep you'll let me forget, or yep you'll remind me?"
"Yep." Sixth time.
Applejack firmed her hat further down over her mane, "Good, so don't you be lettin' me forget. Caus' that's why we lost last year, I'm ah' sure of it."
Big Mac didn't sigh. He just said said; "Yep."
"But this year, this 'ere year the Apple family is bringin' home the Pumpkin Cup!"
Since 'Dash would never let his sister hear the end of it if she didn't, (which meant he'd have to hear it all second-hoof) Big Mac sure hoped so. And that would be 'afore Granny got her say in too.
"Yep."
"So from eight ta' eleven, we sun 'em. Eleven ta' three, we shade 'em. From three ta' six, we sun 'em again, and then from six ta'..."
Big Mac let Applejack go on. She didn't need his input, she was just repeating this over and over for herself. Repetition, that was how Applejack did things.
The big Nightmare Night party was a big deal every year in town, and this here year was gonna' be no different. Big Mac wasn't really a huge fan of all the talking and screaming at the festival. Yet he would easily admit, (silently to himself), that he did quite like the rest of the Nightmare Night party stuff.
He liked the cinnamon soup contests, the pumpkin carving, the stringing up the candle lanterns, the myriad different pie-themed contests, the rambunctious foals an' parents chasing all over after them.
That, and big celebrations like Nightmare Night were one of the few things he'd managed to convince himself he didn't need to worry over. Least ways, not worry much over.
Like, if it was 'Bloom's birthday party, he'd worry over that as it was his responsibility ta' get right. But a big festival? Everypony was worrying over getting that right, not just him, so it took the burden off him and sort of shared it around instead.
And if one pony messed up? It was okay, because there were like, a hundred more ponies who didn't mess up, and only one in a hundred was pretty good going.
Picking up some audio que from his ears, Big Mac's hind brain tuned him back in as his sis was wrapping up:
"...watering 'em plenty morn an' even, and come two weeks time we'll have the biggest, best gosh-darned pumpkins Ponyville's ever seen." She declared confidently.
"Yep." Eighth time.
"Why, Twilight's gonna' be sitting in on judging this 'ere year's batch, so it'll be more'n fair. We'll definitely win." 'Jack finished, sounding a lot like 'Dash right then.
Why was Twilight Sparkle was suddenly an expert judge on pumpkins? Probably read a book on it. Somehow, she ended up being the authority on everything in Ponyville.
Applejack nudged his broad shoulder with her smaller own, a remarkably annoying sisterly smirk on her face, "Ma'be she wouldn't mind some help with them judgin'. Sound like a fine idea ta' you, Mac?"
Nope. Nope it did not.
Because he did not like Twilight Sparkle.
He'd never told anypony, and now it was too late and he couldn't ever tell anypony.
He, Big Mac, did not like the Element of Magic, famous Hero of Equestria, Saviour of Ponyville, Royal Emissary, Twilight Sparkle.
By necessity, all of his sis's friends were his friends by extension, or at least acquaintances. With one exception.
'Dash was 'Dash. 'Shy was 'Shy. Pinkie was Pinkie. Rarity was already a nickname, so she was Rarity. But in Big Mac's head 'Twi as his sis called her was always the full 'Twilight Sparkle'. 'Cause even if nopony else knew it, Twilight Sparkle was no friend of his.
Twilight Sparkle was not a bad pony, she didn't mean no harm. That didn't mean she brought no harm.
It was mighty ungrateful, yet as far as he could figure, while half the time Twilight Sparkle might save Equestria, the rest of the time it wouldn't have needed saving if she weren't around ta' cause the need in the first place.
But he wasn't allowed ta' say that, nor supposed to even think it. But he did. The thought rattled round and around in the back of his head when he saw her in town, or giving a speech, or laughing and eating apple pie with his family at their dinner table. An' most especially whenever she teleported in all hurried-like, grabbed Applejack, and vanished again to fight some new danger. And he an' Granny and 'Bloom were left to anxiously wait, not knowing anything, or how long 'Jack was gonna' be gone, or where, or anything.
That was not okay. That was not okay by Big Mac at all. They weren't playing for half-bits in a hoof of cards, they were gambling with pony lives, his Sis's life, sometimes even his life an' the lives of everypony Equestria's. Who decided that was okay? Who gave them permission ta' gamble that? He didn't recall ever agreeing to anything.
And then the 'gals would arrive back, like they always did, with big smiles and tall tales, and act like they'd never been in danger at all, and he was jus' supposed to join in on the pretend-act and not allowed to say anything. "Everthing's ah'right." 'Jack would say.
Couldn't they see? Couldn't they tell? They couldn't keep on getting away without a scratch. One day, one day, things weren't going to all turn out "ah'right".
But Mac seemed ta' be the only pony who worried about that eventuality.
So nope. Big Mac did not like Twilight Sparkle.
Which meant he couldn't say nothing at all to Applejack's teasing question, cause his 'Sis could tell any lie, and would call him out on it. Loudly. But you couldn't lie if you didn't say nothing.
So Big Mac kept silent and didn't respond with even a monosyllable word to Applejack's ribbing.
She just interpreted his silence the other way, and nudged him harder, grinning wider:
"Shucks, you only had ta' ask. I bet'cha I could get ya' on the judging panel, no problem."
"Nope."
"Wha'da ya' mean nope?"
This was safer. He could say nope and not be lying about the reasons why.
Big Mac took a breath and focused on getting the right words out, and in the right order:
"Nope thanks. Don't want ta' judge."
That was the truth, and 'Jack would know it was the truth. And, as predicted, she dropped it.
"Alrighty then, it don' matter. You jus' let me know 'iffen you want ta' give anything like that a try this year. They 's always happy ta' have more hooves to help out. Now, lets get to them pumpkins! Hop to it!"
---
Big Mac was not a pony giving to boastfulness, and not simply because doing so would involve talking, but he had to admit that this year, the Apple family's pumpkins were the largest yet.
Applebloom, still being a foal, was however.
"Cor! Ain't nopony else gonna' even be close to our pumpkins. We're gonna' win blindfolded, hooves down, no contest for sure!"
"Now now sugar, don't go counting your apples before you've bucked 'em." Applejack chided their younger 'sis, before ruining it by not-so-humbly bragging:
"Ev'n if 'ah do say so ma'self though, them there pumpkins do be masterpieces of good ol' Earth Pony artwork."
She wasn't wrong, though. The orange skinned gourds were ginormous specimens. Heavy, fat, with that perfect orange sheen when the sun hit 'em, each one was so large it would need a whole barrow to itself to get it to the cart. Big Mac was looking forwards to carving a couple of 'em.
"Eeyup."
Of course, the nasty little voice of worry immediately had to speak up in the back of his head. There was still a week until Nightmare Night, what if a worm got into the pumpkin patch in that time? What if all their hard work turned into slimly rot?
That there was very unlikely to happen, but the voice always needed something ta' worry about and make him lose sleep over.
"Dang it, Winona. Winona! No! Bad gal', don't piddle on our new-Winona!"
"Eww, gross. Dibs I ain't carving that one!" 'Bloom yelled.
---
It was three days to Nightmare Night. The late low sun was casting a warm halo over all the apple trees, slowly setting behind the west orchard. The Apple family were eating at the outside table on the porch, on account of it being such a nice evening.
"What'cha?"
"Ah said, it's gonna' be a great Nightmare Night this year Granny."
"What'cha?"
Applejack leaned in; "Ah said, it's gonna' be a great Nightmare Night this year!"
"I ain't deaf, stop hollering!"
Undisturbed, Big Mac chewed on his apple bake and mentally went over todays work in his head to make sure he hadn't forgotten nothing. Or worried about it, more accurately.
Maybe he had forgotten something. Because if'n he couldn't remember because he forgot, how would he know? He'd cleaned out all the hen coups, properly scrubbed them down, and thrown in fresh straw. He'd hitched himself up pulled out that patch of ash saplings before they could properly put down roots and become immovable. He'd carted all twelve cart loads of leaf refuse to the bonfire pile, and he had-
"Mac, hey Mac. Some'ut on your mind?"
Without breaking rhythm in eating, Big Mac scooped up another forkful and shrugged.
"Eh, eeyup."
"Anything important?" Applejack pressed.
"Nope."
"Anyway, as 'ah was saying, Miss Cheerlie's said she's fine 'aving all the school foals for the spooky walk, an'-Applebloom, what're you goin' as again?"
"Ah' wanna' be one of 'em thes'ral vamponies!"
"Weren't you one of those last year?"
"No 'ah wasn't, that was Scoota. This year it's ma' turn to be a vampony!"
Applejack waved her hoof, "Kay, so Cheerlie'll be watchin' Applebloom and the foals for the first half of the evenin' at least. After that, you good to swing by and pick her up Mac?"
Big Mac raised his brows, "Eeeeeyup..." He drew out, giving his sis a questioning look.
"Me and the gals' have got plans." Applejack declared.
"Back in ma' day," Granny loudly jumped in out of nowhere, "We didn' have no glass foals!"
"Wha-? Ah' said class foals Granny. Class, not glass."
"Watch'a yammerin' about? Ah'm talking about glass foals!"
"An' ah' said class, Granny! Like from school!"
"Ah' ain't deaf, stop hollering! Ah know what ah'm talkin' about. Glass foals! Them pansy, softie, crack-as-soon-as-look-at-'em glass foals."
"Pansy's nice-" Applebloom started to speak up, but was completely overridden.
Granny waved her stick around dangerously, nearly knocking the apple-juice pitcher off the table, "Back in ma' day, we didn' need to school filly ta' hold ya' hoof. Ah' walked ta' school by ma' self 'afore the crack of dawn everyday!"
"Ya' said ya' didn' have a school in Ponyville, Granny." Applejack helpfully reminded her.
"Course we didn'! Ya' think we had time ta' be going ta' school? Course not! We had ta' run this here farm!"
"Wish I didn' have ta' go to school." Applebloom grumbled under her breath.
With surprising sharpness of hearing considering earlier, Granny's ears swivelled to zero in on Applebloom's mumble.
"Ya' gonna' go ta' school and ya' gonna' love it! A filly's education is the most important thing! Why, back in my day, we didn' have school!"
"Yes Granny, we know, you jus' said that-"
"IN MA' DAY, We didn' have no fancy-smanzy Nightmare Night!!"
"A'kay, a'kay, I think maybe it's gettin' late-"
"WE DIDN'T HAVE NO FANCY CANDY, WE ONLY HAD SOUR APPLES!"
"Granny! Don'tcha be saying things like that! Our apples ain't never been sour!"
That's the part she focused on? Big Mac sighed and began quietly clearing the table in the background. He was just as proud of their livelihood as the next Apple, but even he knew they weren't perfect.
Why, if nothing else, crab apples was supposed ta' be sour.
It t'was just another reason why he worried. Applejack never lied, she couldn't ta' save her life, but that didn't mean she always told the truth. Just the truth as she saw it.
She said they never did done grown sour apples. But they did, she just forgot about it in that moment, or she meant they didn't grow no normal apples sour on purpose. Or that they didn't sell sour apples.
Everypony knew that Applejack always spoke true. They all seemed to forget she could still get things wrong. Big Mac worried about things beyond his power, and he worried about 'Jack being wrong whenever she left.
Every time she came back and told them all it was fine, that them 'gals were never in no real danger, that there'd been nothing ta' worry over... Big Mac didn't believe her.
He hated that nasty little voice for ruining an otherwise perfectly pleasant evening.
Big Mac washed up the dishes, Applebloom doing the drying, and turned in early for the night. He didn't get as much sleep as he wanted, though. Laying wide eyed in the dark, on his back staring up at nothing, the nasty voice jus' wouldn't let him be. Only when the voice eventually got distracted by tiredness, was he finally able to sneakily fall asleep a'fore it could rouse itself again.
Or at least, that's what it felt like ta' him. It wasn't much fun, having to fight your own brain just ta' get ta' sleep.
---
"Big Mac my verbose friend, I see this fence you're trying to mend."
Big Mac turned around quickly to find the zebra, Zecora, standing on the other side of the fence. It was off putting, how she always snuck up on everypony.
What with those huge weird golden rings, bangles, and necklaces of hers, Big Mac would've thought she'd clank more. Somehow though, she didn't. Was that cause she had ta' be quiet, living like she did in the dangerous Everfree?
"Eeyup." He politely took of the hammer loop from his hoof, and turned ta' properly face the striped mare.
A stallion was always polite to a mare. Even when it was Twilight Sparkle. Maybe especially when it was Twilight Sparkle.
"A repair you have well in hoof I see, but still I'd offer a helping hoof from me."
For the hundredth-odd time, Big Mac thought how weird it must be in Zebrica, with everypony always having ta' talk in rhymes.
"Nope thanks." He politely declined the offer.
Zecroa gave the fence bar separating them a hard rap with that funny staff of hers, but the fence didn't so much as wobble. "Perhaps a good thing to my mind, skilled craft is best left to the professionals, I find. I'm always willing to help a friend in need, but ruining this fence I wouldn't be much of one indeed."
Big Mac had to take a moment concentrating to parse all of that. Words were hard, especially when Zecora used odd ones out of place jus' so as ta' make her sentences rhyme.
Ahh, okay, Zecora had been making a joke.
"Heh, nope." He replied once he got it.
She poked the fence a couple more times, checking its sturdiness, that weird sticky-up mohawk made of hers making her look taller than she really was. Big Mac noticed, because few ponies were as tall as him, so when anypony else came close, he kinda' noticed by default.
"A fine fence, very solid. A good reason to not be so worried. The forest is not a safe place to roam, not to venture out away from home."
"Eeyup." He agreed, but raised his eyebrows questioningly. They both knew this, why was she making a special point of it today?
"May I enquire, do you know what caused this damage to transpire? Was it some beast which broke through here? That is what I'd like to hear."
"Nope." And then, to clarify he was saying 'nope' to her enquiry and not 'nope' she couldn't hear, he focused hard, worked his jaw, and after a minute's careful thinking added:
"Nope. No beast. Jus'... jus' wear n' tear."
"Good to hear, yes, good to hear..." Zecora trailed off. She looked to be distracted, still tapping on the fence, so Big Mac waited. Long pauses in a conversation were no hardship to him.
The longer, rougher grass on the other side of the fence rustled pleasantly as a breeze blew through the orchard and out, carrying with it the scent of fresh apple leaves. Big Mac idly followed the ripple through the grass it made, tracking its invisible path from the fence and his farm, until just before he could no longer make out the effects of the wind, the grass came to a stop up against the edge of the forest.
The Everfree forest didn't look like no friendly place for a pony, even from all the way back here. Although at least this far out on the edges, it wasn't that dangerous. Still dangerous yes, because anything unpredictable and unnatural like that was always gonna' be dangerous, but the really dangerous critters you could only find if you went in deep. And what kind of idiot would do that? Present zebra company excepted, of course.
"The Sol'jek Kroll will be upon us soon, or the Last Eve..." Zecora abruptly spoke up again. He blinked and quickly turned back to her to show he was paying attention.
"Although here you might call it Nightmare Night I believe."
"Eeyup?"
Zecora's ears were twitching about this way and that restlessly, and the rhythm of her staff tapping on the fence was slowly increasing, "I having nothing concrete to which I can object, nor do I have clear in my mind and suspect. But..."
She turned and fixed Big Mac with a serious stare, "...There is a stranger in my trees, they come at night and go as they please."
"I see and hear them not, yet I can feel them there like a creeping rot. And I have searched, believe you me. Stealthily as I could, from tree to tree. But for all my training as a shaman back home in Zebrica, my tracking efforts haven't even gotten me near."
"Eeeeyup?" Big Mac agreed slowly, unsure why he was being told this. He furtively shot a glance at the distant trees, but didn't suddenly see any shadowy figure or movement. Just the same trees as always.
"Why am I telling you all of this?" Zecroa correctly interpreted, "Because if I didn't I feel it would be remiss. Now I don't want to alarm you... but your farm is very near the forest, it's true."
"Oh." He looked again at the afar-off trees. They were still exactly the same.
Zecroa's tone had taken on a pensive air, staff still tapping in hurried time with her rhythm, "Listening to my common sense, it says there is no evidence. I even resorted to trying one of my most complicated shaman brews, but even that turned up nothing new. While that should mean there truly is nothing to find, it does not give me any peace of mind."
"Oh." He repeated. Then, with some effort and slow, careful pronunciation, "Ah'm sorry ta' hear that."
Zecora blinked, and then shook herself, stripped mohawk waving with the motion. She ceased tapping away on the fence and flipped her staff to rest across her back, "Forgive me Big Mac, I seem to have wandered off-track. I didn't come here to share my worries, so for that you have my apologies."
Then she coughed into a hoof awkwardly, "If it's not too much imposition, it's a favour I favour I actually came to ask. I hurry to assure you, it's not some great big task."
The nasty voice in the back of Big Mac's head immediately began screaming with all kinds of unrealistic worry about what Zecroa could need, but he ignored it and confidently nodded his agreement, "Eeyup."
"Thank you. If you agree, do you have a barn free? You won't even know I'm there, but for Nightmare Night I'd like to make it my lair."
It took a moment before Big Mac fully picked apart that sentence. She wanted to spend Nightmare night, but only Nightmare Night, campin' out in the barn. But, if she was worried, what about the other nights? More pressingly, what about tonight even?
And what was this rubbish about staying in the barn? The Apple's would never make no family friend stay in the barn!
"Eeyup. Nope." No, wait, he wasn't explaining that clearly. He hurriedly shook his head, and tried again.
"Eeyup. Nope ta' barn. Comin' side." There, that was a bit better. And-
-And Zecora was shaking her mohawked head, "You've very kind, but just the barn I do not mind. And before you persist, I'm going to insist. I have a reason, you see. One I'd prefer to keep between you and me."
If she didn't want ta' make a fuss, Big Mac could get that. But bunking in their spare room wasn't making a fuss, it was basic pony curtesy, He was missing somethin' here.
"Eeeeeyup...?" He drew out unsurely.
Zecora shifted her weight on her hooves, "I mean no offense, but your sibling Applejack, she can be more stubborn than a yak. I ask you this, from your point of view; if I told her my nameless suspicions, what would she do?"
Mac winced. Why'd Zecora have ta' ask hard questions? Not the answer, he didn't have to even consider it, what was hard was asking him to speak.
"Jack'll help, o'course."
Zecora nodded seriously, "Exactly that, it is a fact. I do not want her to know, especially on the night of the Nightmare show. The Last Eve is a night which should be spent in bed, kept safe and all well fed."
Big Mac did not raise his eyebrows, but some of his scepticism must've slipped through regardless. All the tales of Nightmare Night you told foals were only tales, no matter if some of 'em scared grown pony's like him still. And what with Princess Luna's return, there really wasn't no Nightmare Moon any longer.
Zecora's lips crooked in wry amusement, "Don't think I'm not aware, you don't need to share. 'Oh, the zebra shaman afraid of the dark. Of what irony, oh what a lark!' And perhaps it really is just superstition, nothing more than old tradition. But..."
The wry amusement faded, and the pensiveness returned as Zecora glanced over her shoulder to the forest, "...But whatever their original meaning... I just can't shake off that crawling, rotting feeling. So if it's all the same to you I'd rather stay the night, and entirely skip any potential fright."
Well that was fine, Big Mac couldn't see any harm in that. Even if it was nothing more than silly superstition, it cost them nothing ta' help a friend.
Him. Cost him nothing. Because Zecora was emphasisin' that she didn't want Applejack ta' know about this.
Which he still wasn't clear on why not yet.
"Eeyup. But... No 'Jack?"
Zecora carefully looked Big Mac up and down, and finally in the eye. In that moment, a spark of understanding passed between them.
"I don't want to see Applejack gallop headfirst into danger yet again, and as her big brother I think you feel much the same. If I tell Applejack not to go, I'll turn my back and next thing I know, they'll be six brave but misguided mares out there during Last Evening, when it's an issue you can solve by doing the sensible thing and just leaving."
"Besides all of which, those trees and home are mine. I will solve this mystery on my own time."
Well now. All of those were good sentiments Big Mac could get behind.
"Eeyup."
---
"Nightmare Night, Nightmare Fright~! Give me something sweet to bite~"
Costumed foals squealed, laughed, and screamed. They roamed Ponyville's streets in packs, high on sugar and looking to get higher. Indulgent adults laughed at their antics and their costumes, and gladly piled more candy upon them. Not that the adults were behaving much different than the foals were.
Big Mac was dressed up as a wood-cutter. All it really involved was pulling on some overalls, slapping on a ragged straw-hat, and digging out the long-handled old wood-axe. Parading up the lamp-lit streets towards the town square, Big Mac could see dressed-up zomponies, mummies, vamponies, witches, wereponies, wendigos, and more for the monstrous selection.
Then there were also the ponies who'd decided on more wacky ideas. A giant alarm clock, a palm tree, a bobble-head hydra, a cat, some kind of colourful clown, and yet more.
The early night air was filled with a wild scent mix of cinnamon, roasted nuts, candyfloss, melted chocolate, hot pastries, popcorn, and deep-fried veggies.
It was that mix of smells more than anything else which spoke to Big Mac of Nightmare Night. Every year, the overflowing mix of stalls somehow managed to produce the same heady mix. It was nostalgic, and exciting, and festive all in one.
"MMMM-Haaaaaa! That's the good stuff. Ya' smell that, Mac? That there's the smell of fun."
"Eeyup." He agreed with his 'Sis. Beside him, she was all costumed up as a pirate, with an eye-patch and fake parrot. Apparently, she was competing with 'Dash ta' see who could be the best pirate to absolutely nopony's surprise.
If challenged, his 'Sis and 'Dash would probably compete ta' see who'd get into the grave first.
Celestia, that was morbid. He wished he hadn't thought that.
"You have fun now, ah'm gonna' drop off Applebloom, then ah'm meeting the gals. You have fun, Mac."
"Eeyup." He waved his younger sisters goodbye. The last he heard of them 'afore they were swallowed by the noisy throng was:
"Come along sugar, Cheerlie's a'waiting."
"But 'ah wanna' find Scoots and Sweets first."
The worry-wart voice in his head hissed they were being irresponsible off-loading their baby 'sis like this. He ignored it though, because Cheerlie had volunteered, an' all the other adults were takin' advantage of her kind offer too. This was Nightmare Night. It was a party. He didn't need ta' worry.
So with that thought and a spring in his step, Big Mac turned and merged into the chatterin' stream of noise heading for the town square. Strung from the gutters and slotted over the street lamp heads, coloured lanterns lit the way in multicoloured hues.
The pumpkin' contest, along with the all the other contests being held, weren't 'till later. Which meant, he was free ta' enjoy himself until then.
Along the way to the stall stuffed square, ponies engaged him in conversation. Well, as much of a conversation as he ever was engaged in.
"Happy Nightmare Night, Big Mac!"
"Eeyup."
"Mac, Mac! Down here. You having fun?"
"Eeyup."
"RAWR, I'm a tiger. Did I scare ya'?"
"Eeyup."
"Hi Big Mac. Your sister here tonight? I'm looking for her."
"Eeyup."
"Over that way? Alright, cool. Hey, catch you later."
"Eeyup."
It got harder and harder to hear himself think as the crowd eagerly pressed on to the square, with a steady roar of happy noise rising up to match the delicious aroma's filling the warm night air. Until finally, he was there.
Packed did not do Ponyville's square justice. A suitcase was 'packed'. A train carriage was 'packed'. The square was overflowing, thronging, spilling, and pilied all at once. There was barely a single free inch of hoof space, if ya' wanted to get in, you had to dive in.
Personalised lanterns, spooky food, mask racks, fur painting, ring toss, hot drinks, apple bobbing, lucky dip, prize fishing, dart boards, all of those examples Big Mac could see within a dozen hooves of himself.
Just within this first ten seconds of lookin', he could spy a wack-a-diamond-dog, bell hammer buck, and mystery marbles he wanted ta' try out.
There was even a small band made up of local ponies over in that there one corner, with the surrounding watchers loudly singing along, but because of the noise, they could've been mouthing along for all Mac could tell.
That level of noise was his excuse for why Spike had ta' literally grab and shake his leg a'fore he noticed the little guy.
He blinked down at the little purple dragon, before glancing all around at the crush of ponies and hooves all stampin' around at Spikes height. What they hay was he doing ere by himself?
With a quick step and turning half to the side, Mac used his bulk to provide Spike with a small lee of shelter ta' talk in:
"Eeyup?" He had to raise his voice.
Big Mac wasn't quite sure what Spike's costume was supposed ta' be, but it involved painted silver cardboard armour and a toy crown.
Spike had to more or less shout up to him to make himself heard in the crowd; "Happy Nightmare Night, Big Mac! I'm digging the costume. Can I ask you for a favour?"
"Eeyup."
Spike pointed a blunted, stubby claw up above the heads of the crowd, "Have you seen Twilight or the girls? Twilight sent me to run this errand, and now I can't find them."
Big Mac craned his neck to his full height over the crowded square. It was hard to be sure in the dark, and what with all the multicolour lights, but he didn't spot the famous Element Bearers anywhere. An' if 'Dash or Rarity had been present in costume, they would've gone out of their way ta' make sure they were easy to spot with its over-the-topness.
He shook his head sorry to Spike, "Nope."
"Phooey. Are you sure you can't? Can you, like, have another look?"
Big Mac was already pretty sure, but he checked again anyways. Ponies, costumes, stalls, lights, but no easily recognisable six mares. Or five. Or less. Or even just Twilight Sparkle herself.
"Nope."
Spike scowled down at the street, "Double phooey. I knew, I knew I should've written down myself on her checklist! Amateur mistake, but I keep forgetting it."
Big Mac awkwardly reached out to lightly drape a hoof of the small foal-er, drake's shoulder. He didn't think Spike had the right of it. He didn't know the context, but surely ya' shouldn't have to be on a checklist ta' get remembered?
"Want help?" He offered.
"What, you mean help looking for Twilight?"
Big Mac had really meant any of the 'gals in general, not Twilight Sparkle specifically since she'd apparently forgotten, but close enough.
"Eeyup."
"Sure. Thanks Big Mac." Spike brightened; "Here, hold still a sec."
Without further ado, or waiting for an invitation, Spike proceeded to clamber up up his leg, up his shoulder, and finally sat himself atop Big Mac's back.
"Okay, I'm good to go now. And thanks, by the way." He added belatedly.
Big Mac hadn't offered to carry Spike, but he'd been going to, so it was fine he guessed. An' Spike was just a foal, younger than 'Bloom even.
At least it meant Spike wouldn't end up separated again.
"Eeyup." He agreed, turning back around. All the stalls and games would still be here when he came back.
He wished he'd thought to ask 'Jack just what activity she and the 'gals had been planning for tonight. It hadn't mattered at the time, but now annoyingly it did.
---
They tried Rarity's boutique first, since it was the closest, only two minutes away, but it was all shut up, no Element Bearers in sight.
So Mac turned them around and went for the bakery instead. The building was absolutely teeming, and Big Mac had to fight and shove to even get to the window to peer in. But although they could see the Cakes inside, working a mile a minute, the absence of a pink party pony was conspicuous.
"On to the library next, I guess." Spike said, leaning around Big Mac's neck to point them on the way. Not that Big Mac didn't already know where the library tree was. Everypony in Ponyville did by now.
It was little acts like that though, which really made Mac remember all over again the little drake's age. It was such a foal thing to do, to helpfully share what everypony already knew, and feel important about helping.
Spike, he was a foal. If his 'Sis shouldn't be going out there risking her life, then by all that was good an' bad in Equestria, a foal never should. But once again, he wasn't allowed to say any of what should'a been common sense to anypony with eyes.
Mac felt like the lowest of rotten apples, filled with worms whenever that nasty little voice whispered that maybe if something bad finally happened on one of 'Jack's missions to Spike, jus' maybe it would finally be enough to spark public outrage, and forcibly put an end to his 'Sis' missions altogether.
Big Mac really did hate that voice, and what it said about him as a pony for having it.
"Big Mac, Maaaac? Hey, we're gonna' walk past the library?" Spike's voice in his ear brought him back to the present.
The fat library tree was infront of him, but he could already see nopony was home. All the lights were off. Well, there went the last most likely place for the six 'gals. Now he was gonna' hav' to wander around Ponyville, hoping to find them.
"Woah, wait. We're we going? Aren't we even going to knock?" Spike hurriedly protested as he turned to head back into town.
"Nope. Nopony home." He grunted, jerking his chin towards the dark windows. Shouldn't that be obvious? Spike lived here, didn't he?
"Well yeah, but maybe they're telling scary Nightmare stories in the dark? We need to double check. Please?"
"Sure." He shrugged, forgetting Spike was on his shoulders for a moment.
He strode up and knocked loudly, already knowing there was gonna' be no answer. After waiting a minute, he was proved right.
"Aww, phooey." Spike sighed, "Now I've got to look all over Ponyville."
'Don't ya' mean, now we've gotta' look all over Ponyville?' He silenty thought. Again though, it was such a foal-like attitude, it got him right in the heart.
"Eeyup." He agreed instead.
"Hey, Big Mac?"
"Eeyup?"
A pause, "Do you ever feel like..."
"Eeyup?" He slowed his pace.
"...Feel like... like everypony just... nahh, never mind, of course you wouldn't. Forget it."
Another pony would have pushed. Another pony would never have let it rest at that.
But Big Mac was not good at words. He couldn't think of anything to say.
So he didn't. He chewed his lip in silence as he carried them back towards the hubbub and bustle.
---
Twenty or thirty minutes later, the two of them hadn't had any more luck, but Big Mac did now have syrup stains on his costume.
The syrup stains came from the sticky toffee orange Spike had scoffed down. Which had come from Parlour Primrose's stall. Which had come from Big Mac not knowing when ta' say 'Nope'. Which had come from a weakness ta' big puppy eyes and; "Pweeeeeeease?" from Spike.
Mac was vaguely beginning to suspect he might've been played somewhere along the line.
"Oh wait, wait! Stop! Go back, over there!" Spike abruptly exclaimed over the noise of the crowd, excitedly tugging on on Big Mac's mane.
In relieved expectation of finally having found them, Big Mac turned in the tugged direction, his height allowing him ta' see over the rest of the crowd and saw...
... Well, he saw alot of Nightmare Night party stuff, but not the six 'gals. Spike was instead urgently pointing at one of the colourful game stalls, with rows of little wooden toy crossbows ta' shoot.
"They've got fruit-shoot! Fruit-shoot ! Quick, quick, I gotta' try it."
Big Mac turned his head to give his passenger 'a look' from the corner of one eye.
Spike though wasn't deturred, "It's fruit-shoot. We can't just walk past that, it's like, the rules. You have to do fruit-shoot on Nightmare Night, Shining said so!"
Big Mac remained staunchly unimpressed.
Spike kicked his little heels petulantly on Mac's back, "Come oOOooOOooNNnn, 'pwease? I've got my own bits."
Well, he couldn't really disagree with that. He and 'Jack were always trying ta' teach 'Bloom the importance of money and life skills, so he couldn't very well say no. How else were foals gonna' learn?
"A'righ." He gave in, changing direction yet again.
While Spike slid down and rushed up to join the stalls' line, Big Mac took the moment to stretch his neck. He turned his head all the way until it satisfyingly clicked, then all the way to the other side.
Rolling his shoulders, he glanced around to find somewhere out of the way of the other ponies where he could still jeep an eye on Spike. He spotted a bench outside the steady flow of celebrating ponies, in an area between the overlapping pool of two street lamps light, and trotted over.
One of the street lamps had a green filter on it for Nightmare Night, and the other a purple tinted filter, casting the bench in a weird, double half-light sorta' shadow pool.
It was one of 'em planter-benches too, a newish addition around Ponyville. Basically, the idea was ta' have two big flower boxes as the ends of a bench. Mac quite liked 'em, more greenery around the town was always good. Which ever pony had come up with the novel idea probably got a raise.
Mac took off and leaned the old blunt wood axe against one of the planters, and settled himself on the green splashed light portion of the bench. It looked like he'd be here a little while, from the rate Spike's line for the fruit-shoot was moving.
In mild interest, he leaned over to check what was growing in the flower box at his end of the bench. It was harder to tell in the weird green light and shadows, but he was an Earth pony farmer, and a darned good one, so a deep sniff and a prod was all it took to get his answer.
Clementines, climbing sweet-peas, an' some carnations mixed in there.
"Excuse me. Can I sit, or are you saving this place for somepony?" A brisk mare's voice asked.
"Nope." Big Mac was already waving them to take the other half of the bench before he even looked up from the flower box.
"Thanks." The mare sighed, sitting heavily and with a *tack* of wood on wood.
It took a couple o' seconds in the purple tinted street light, but when he could make out the mare's Nightmare Night costume he raised his eyebrows, 'cause it was a pretty good one. Really realistic at first glance. Too much so, 'nfact. It crossed that line from impressively realistic, to gruesomely realistic.
Some ponies jus' didn't know where the line was, and took the Nightmare Night thing too far.
It was in the way the crawling roots really seemingly bursting out of her neck and half her face. Like they had real depth which puckered the flesh, really seemed ta' swell and bulge under the skin.
Overall, Big Mac privately thought she'd put way too much effort into her costume. She even had a fake wooden foreleg.
Well, she was a unicorn, that there was a horn with fake roots wrapped around it on her forehead, so some of it musta' been fancy illusions, but it was too complicated and solid for jus' magic. Half of it was probably carefully applied, (and probably overly expensive), makeup and props.
"Evenin'." Big Mac nodded politely, caus' manners cost nothing.
"Happy Nightmare Night." She returned curtly, absently massaging the shoulder of her pretend fake peg-leg with her good hoof, most of her attention on the bustling crowd.
Mac expected that there ta' be the end of the conversation. Since he didn't recognise her, her gruesome costume not withstanding, it meant she wasn't a local, and so didn't know how he wasn't much one for conversation.
"You waiting on any of yours?" She spoke up, nodding towards a teeming crowd of sugar-hyped foals practically overflowing a game stall.
"Nope."
"Foal sitting for the night instead then?"
"Eeyup. Kinda'."
"For which one? Or ones?" She questioned, scanning the crowd of miniature zomponies, wereponies, mummies, and assorted others.
Her voice was rather... what was the word? 'Strident', Mac decided. Sharp, brisk.
"One." He pointed a large hoof at Spike in line, "That one."
A pause. "The drake?" She asked, mildly surprising Mac by getting' the word right.
"Eeyup."
He was more surprised when she rather sharply followed up with; "Spike Sparkle, of House Sparkle?"
Well, Spike was sorta’ a public figure, what with being attached ta’ the Element Bearers all the time. Kind of, in the back ground. Still, big Mac couldn’t help how he sat up straighter, paying more attention to his bench companion.
That there living root costume really did look more wrong and unpleasant the more he looked at it. So he looked at the mare beneath it instead.
...Nope. Still didn't know her. The green and purple tinted lamp-light certainly didn't help none.
And she him neither, caus' after studying him back, she asked, "What did you say your name was?"
"...Big Mac."
Huh, she knew his name by the way she sat back and an undertone of something he hadn’t noticed uncoiled.
“Ahh. In this weird light and that getup, I couldn’t match you to your pic. Applejack’s older brother, right?”
“…Eeeeyyuup.” He agreed, much more slowly this time.
She waited, nasty root growing head partially cocked, just waitin' for him to ask.
He limbered up his tongue, focused on the correct words, and got out; "An' what might your name be, miss?"
"Lilly Blossom," She answered without pause, "-Night Guard Sargent in the service of Princess Luna, second class."
"Eeyup?"
"Eeyup." She mimicked back at him in confirmation. The good side of her mouth not being grown over by a blackened root turned up wryly, "Not a weird stalker, no."
Big Mac started guiltily, but he hadn't said that, even if he might've been thinkin' it.
"Eh. *Ehem* Eeyup."
Wait, hang on there a gosh darned second, that didn't explain nothing. Jus' because she was officially one of them strange Night Guards nopony ever saw, why did that mean she'd know who he was? Did all them Guards go around memorizing his name?
Well, actually, with how Applejack was the Element of Honesty and a National Hero, they might do. Learnin' the family of VIP's might be mandatory.
He didn't like it. The voice of worry was whispering away the reason the Guards had ta' know his Sis's family was because they might be in danger. Like the target of the next crazy villain which crawled out of the bark cracks.
Big Mac took a few moments to both calm down his breathing, an' also plan out a full sentence:
"Miss Blossom, you here as some sorta’ undercover bodyguard?”
Her retort was derisive, biting, "Me? Me? Do I look like a bucking-? What a stupid question. And even if I was one, would I tell you?"
He raised his forehooves defensively, "Ya' could be. Disguise, disguised like. Lookin', looking what like."
She squinted at him, disfigured face ghoulish in the purple light, as she worked out what his dumb tongue had stumbled through. Once she did, she let out a bark of startled, spontaneous laughter.
"W-haHa! I get it, it's Nightmare Night. Of course you'd think that. I forget, working among the bats who don't look twice, and then I come out here with 'normal' ponies and I forget in entirely a different way. Ha ha, seriously, that's great." She subsided, chuckling to herself.
Big Mac shot a furtive look towards Spike, wondering how much longer he needed to wait here for, but although he was closer to the front, the scaley little drake was still in the queue.
Big Mac usually did well with silences. It was kinda' his whole deal. Usually. But although the immediate area was not quiet by any means with all the ponies and stalls, the silence on this here planter-bench was makin' him uncomfortable. Like he was supposed to be providing information to a superior.
Small wonder, if this unicorn was a Sargent, she must have the attitude down pat for commandin’ ponies. But it made him feel like she was just waitin' for him to mess up, like he should be standing at attention.
"D'ya mind?" He blurted out without even meaning to.
"No." Was her airy response. That wasn't right, you were supposed to ask what you didn't mind. Big Mac was thrown.
"What?"
"No, I don't 'mind'." She repeated.
"Errm..." What could he say to that?
"I've wasted far too much time 'minding' what strangers thought. Family too, even."
"Uhm." Lilly wasn't stickin' to any of the normal conventions of what ta' say and not say ta' strangers.
"Just so you know, I could've been lying about being a Night Guard. You should've asked to see my badge, or some identification."
Big Mac knew he was being led, but he still asked, "Well. Badge then?"
Lilly's "Tsk" of disapproval was loud, "Do you know what a Night Guard's badge is supposed to look like? I could show you anything I'd made up. Well? Do you know the difference?"
He huffed, "Nope."
"Then don't ask. I could be an imposter playing the double con. You're the brother of an Element Bearer, you need to learn a bit more healthy suspicion."
That... that resonated with Big Mac. It was close enough to what he'd been subconsciously thinking all this time. 'Show some healthy suspicion'.
He'd thought it before, but it suddenly seemed much more real all of a sudden. Applejack and the Gals always seemed ta' win. One day though, somepony was going to go after them through him, and 'Bloom, and Granny instead.
He looked back at Lilly Blossom, now with more caution; "Are ya' a Guard?"
"I earned back my post, and I'm damned proud of it," She answered firmly, "But you're wasting your time by asking. Learn to ask questions with answers you can actually prove."
"Like?"
"Easy. Just use your brain. Ask for my rank ID number, and then go find an actual on duty Guard, well Night Guard, and double-check." She answered flippantly.
Big Mac opened his mouth to do just that... and then he looked around. Lots of celebrating ponies in costume, but this was Ponyville. There were no Night Guards, or even Royal Guards, to ask.
Lilly Blossom, if that was really her name, chuckled again, her root disguise twisting up that side of her mouth when she did, "Heh, so you've got a brain between those ears. We'll make a recruit of you yet."
"Nope thanks."
"Saying no to joining up? Brains and the smarts to use them. Officer material, definitely."
Was that a compliment there, or an insult? Was this 'caus she was a Guard, were everpony was much more brash an' rude in causal conversation?
He glanced at Spike's line again, hoping it would hurry up. The drake was bouncing in his knight costume in place in excitement as the queue crept closer.
"Hey though," Lilly spoke, sounding far too casual-like, "You might wanna' mention to your sister that out in the open of your own apple orchard for a romantic moonlit rendezvous isn't anywhere near as great an idea as she obviously thinks it is."
Big Mac stared. Then regretted it because of the grossness of her costume. But just, what? No, with what she'd jus' said about not taking a stranger's word, he was certain she was fooling with him. Ninety-nine percent certain.
He grunted in annoyance at her messing with him on purpose, completely done with this. Unfortunately, Spike was still not done over at his game stall, so Big Mac was still stuck here on this bench.
It didn't occur to him to just get up and walk away. That wasn't how a pony handled civilized social interactions.
So, still trapped into this conversation here on this planter-bench, he forced out; "Why'n you here?"
"Why am I even here tonight? I could answer anything and you'd have no way of checking. Again.
"Here ta' talk in circles, seems like." He spoke each word carefully, but got them all out in order.
“That’s what I’m doing right now, sure. But that’s not what I came to this town tonight for, no.” She dismissed. She didn’t move her fake-pretend leg much, Mac noticed. Kept it all ridged like, like a real peg-leg would’ve been.
“If you must know, I’m here because I’ve got the night off, all the bats are off doing something important somewhere else tonight, clan invite only, so I had nothing else to waste my time on so I said yes when my friend asked and came down on the train with her. She’s doing a Nightmare Night charity appearance gig thing.”
Her words sounded true, he'd picked up a thing or two from 'Jack, but she'd just flat out told him ta' not trust her words, so who could tell? Aside from 'Jack, o'course.
Really, what kinda' pony went around tellin' other ponies not ta' trust their words? It sounded so counter-productive, because what was even the point? He didn't like it, it was confusing.
'Could ya' please hurry it up there Spike?' He thought.
Well that was nice. Assuming it were true, o'course. He was feeling right an' properly paranoid right now. Well, he'd already determined to not act on any information Lilly shared, so it didn't really matter if'n it was true or not.
If 'Jack were here, she'd be throwing a fit over the lack of common pony decency of speakin' the truth to strangers. He wasn't his sis, but he was an Apple and strongly put out by it too.
Her point though... unlike 'Jack would've, he agreed with it deep down.
'If'n I'm agreeing though, that sounds like I've been manipulated.' The paranoid voice of worry in the back of his head immediately second-guessed.
Great. Now he didn't know what ta' think.
Mac became aware that somepony was callin' him over the sound of the crowd.
"Mac? Maa-aac? Yoohoo, Mac?" His ears twitched in their hat slits, and he swivelled ta' see that in his distraction, Spike's line had jumped forwards and the drake was now finished.
"I won! Come pick me up, and we can go." Spike shouted over proudly holding a comically oversized trophy over his head.
Thank Celestia. Freed from his social obligations, Big Mac jumped off the planter-bench, almost forgettin' his wood-axe prop in his haste.
"Nice talkin'." He politely lied ta' Lilly.
She wasn't impressed by the looks of it, but what with the weird light, shadows, and her costume ya' couldn't really tell:
"You're not even a green-fanged bat recruit. You ain't fooling nopony."
Big Mac pretended not to have heard over the crowd as he hastily left. Which meant he really didn't hear what she called after him.
It sounded somethin' like; "Don’t roam at night.” Oh wait no, “Happy Nightmare Night.” That fit.
“Mac, mac, I won! Check out the size of this thing.” Spike proudly brandished his trophy.
“Eeyup.” No prizes for guessin’ who was gonna’ have ta’ carry it.
“Who was that pony you were talking to?” Spike asked, momentarily pausing in his celebration..
Mac worked his jaw around, before honestly answering, “Don’ rightly know.”
---
Mac was startin’ to worry they weren’t going ta’ find the 'gals at all tonight ta' hoof back over his scaley purple charge. A silly worry, since all that would’ve meant was he’d take Spike home ta’ safely stay the night at the farm, something Spike did at sleepovers anyway. But then, squeezing between a spooky-dip an’ a horseshoe ring toss setup, they bumped into the 'gals out of the blue.
Well, one of them. Kinda'. Sorta'.
What actually happened was he heard a too-familiar noisy rush of wings and wind, one which from experience shouted for Mac to dive out of the way because the flying pony causing the sound was comin’ in, and not stopping for anypony, caus’ ponies were supposed to get out of ‘Dash’s way and not the other way ‘round.
Except he couldn’t do that because he had Spike ridin’ on his back, an'-
-And then suddenly, he no longer had Spike ridin’ on his back.
All that remained was 'Dash's rapidly fading voice over the roof tops; "Yo Mac good job finding Spike for me don't worry I've totally got it from here no need to thank me 'kay smell ya' later bye!"
And then she was gone.
Mac stood there for a full minute, non-plussed, blinking slowly. Around him, costumed ponies who'd wisely dived for cover got up grumbling, before promptly gettin' on with their Nightmare Night.
Okay. So. That'd happened.
Mac wasn't even surprised. There an' gone before you could even see her, that was Ponyville's resident Element of Loyalty and speed maniac.
Least ways, when she wasn't busy being not busy doin' the exact opposite.
Either impatiently blitzin', or apathetically lazin'. There didn't seem to be no in-between with 'Dash.
At least it meant he didn't need to worry about his impromptu charge no more. Whatever'n the 'gals were doing, which 'Jack hadn't shared, they could now look after Spike.
With one less worry on his shoulders, literally, Mac determined himself to instead enjoy what was left of Nightmare Night.
And enjoy it he did indeed. He took part in the pie-throw, a good laugh for everypony. Then he got ta' sample all the non-thrown pies. Hot-choc mugs a'plenty were passed out all around.
Six-legged races, sack hop, candy-dip, apple-drop, fireworks, bell-buck, and finally the pumpin' carving.
Laughter, bad jokes, happy chatter.
In passing, he caught the tail-end of a show in the main square as it wound down. He sort-of recognised the name somepony-Swirl being bandied about. A guest mare speaker, or something.
Finally though, with all the reluctant and yawning foals protesting they weren't tired being packed off ta' bed, it was time for him ta' go pick up 'Bloom and head home himself.
Mrs. Cheerlie was at the school house, smiling an' hoofing off the last of her classes foals back ta' parents and older siblings. Mac thanked her seriously, and he and 'Bloom waved goodbye. Well, 'Bloom was more wavin' to 'Scoots and Sweetie, but close enough.
And by some strange mystery, (which wasn't really mysterious), Mac was carrying a sleeping 'Bloom across his back a'fore they'd even exited the town.
At his rear, the laughter and celebration noise faded away, as did the Ponyville's overspilling glow of lights. He'd brought a small lantern in his costume's side pocket, one of 'em little crystal glow ones, so it was fine. It didn't cast more than a splash of light ta' see by, but the moon was clear and he knew the track well, so the little lantern was all that was needed.
It was quiet on the well-worn track. Just the clop of his hooves on the dirt, and occasional insect chirp.
Quite pleasant, really. A chance ta' chill off after the noise of the party. Just him, 'Bloom, and the stars.
*Clip-clop*
It was strange how the road back ta' their farm always felt different under-hoof when you were trotting it in the dark. Silly really. It was the same hard-packed dirt as always. But it just felt different. Big Mac mused on that as he trotted, small crystal lantern casting just enough light ta' see by.
*Clip-clop*
Ya' kinda' forgot, what with all the festivities in Ponyville being so well lit up, (even if in weird colours with lots of shadows to be 'spooky'), but Nightmare Night was Night.
On his back, 'Bloom started ta' snore lightly. It was always funny when he caught her doing that, caus' 'Bloom always denied it vehemently every time they told her she did, even when it was 'Jack doing the telling.
*Clip-clop* *Clip-clop*
Big Mac trotted along unhurriedly, content in companionable silence.
He didn't think it strange he had a companion trotting alongside him in the dark.
Mac didn't notice exactly when they'd joined him.
He didn't think it strange he didn't know whom they were. Or why. Or from where.
It wasn't important.
Just outside his small pool of lantern light, his shadowed companion matched him stride for stride.
The night was pleasantly cool. The insects had gone silent finally. Just the quiet clop of his shoes on the dirt road. And his companions too.
It wasn't strange. It wasn't important. He was merely going home.
Across his back, 'Bloom continued to doze and occasionally snore.
*clip-clop* *clip-clop*
There was nothing unusual happening. Everything was fine.
*clip-clop* *clip-clop*
They came up to the bend, with the old stump he knew so well. It marked the nearly-start of the Apple's land. Under the moon, the dark stump looked more like a hunched figure.
Beside him, his shadow took the bend too.
*clip-clop* *clip-clop*
Above, invisible in the vastness of the open starry night, the Night Guard tasked with trailing the brother of the Element Bearer of Honesty did not notice anything wrong either. He was one of Lilly Blossom's task force, and he only saw the distant figure Big Mac carrying his little sister below.
There was no second companion down there. Nothing was wrong.
*clip-clop* *clip-clop*
The inviting glow of the farm house up ahead winked into existence as Mac trotted passed the obscuring line of orchard trees, and came into line of sight. Almost home.
Alongside, his unknown companion matched him step for step towards his home.
The little plank bridge over the tiny trickling brook, really just some thick planks, since the brook was so small.
They crossed it together.
*clip-clop* *clip-clop*
The welcoming glow of the porch light was waiting. He was almost home. They were almost home.
Strangely, Winona wasn't barking up a storm in greeting. Usually, they had ta' shout for her ta' be quiet whenever somepony came a'calling after dark.
It wasn't important. He was almost to the creaky porch steps. They were almost to the steps.
It was fine. Nothing was wrong.
*clip-clop* *clip-clop*
Mindful of 'Bloom on his back, he went up the steps. His companion... didn't. They kept trotting, past Big Mac, past the steps, past the porch, past the house, and on. Behind the farm house, beyond the barn, third orchard, and repaired fence, the lightless Everfree forest squatted.
Above, satisfied of his VIP's safe arrival home, the Night Guard dipped a leathery wing and wheeled away into the night. The occupants of the farm house might not know it, but there were silent wards enchantments surrounding the entire building which rose up at night just as the moon did. Further more, the wards couldn't be found by even a unicorn skilled in the field of enchanting, because Her Majesty had laid them herself, after the manner old Noble Houses used around their ancestral homes.
What would normally require leylines to sustain, Princess Luna had done with the holy might of an alicorn instead. The Night Guard counted himself deeply privileged to have been there to witness Her Majesty casting them. So he flew back to give his report of "All clear".
He did not see with his night vision the second figure pass the invisible lines of the ward boundaries, and nothing happen. No alarm was activated, no defences raised.
And why should the wards have activated? They were, after all, keyed to the Apple family. Specifically to the Apple family. How? The answer was also the reason.
It was keyed to any Apple descendant by blood.
Which made the method of subversion shockingly simple. Blood magic. A almost entirely forgotten to the faded past of Equestria and forbidden texts from almost a thousand years prior. It made it all too easy to slip passed such ward enchantments to enter Noble Houses to pillage, despoil, or murder in secret. With blood samples stolen from the unawares Apple family, these wards were no different.
The mare in the travelling cloak continued, without candle of light spell, unswervingly down the path into the pitch black Everfree.
Her target had never been the Apple family or the Bearer of Honesty to begin with. Not tonight. They just so happened to have been going the same way out of Ponyville tonight.
As to her being in Ponyville tonight of all nights of the year... what better night to make a discreet delivery unnoticed? But the delivery had only been a detour. A side project. Something to do before the main event of the night truly began.
Everypony had finished their Nightmare Night celebration. But was the night over? Had it even reached halfway?
No. Midnight and that pivotal moment of crux had yet to come.
And the moment of midnight of Nightmare Night itself was a powerful moment indeed.
Somewhere in the trees ahead, the ritual circle awaited, the runes inscribed, the caged blood sacrifices prepared, and the stones laid.
Would it work? The ritual?
No. No, probably not.
But one night, it would.
If not tonight, then the next. Or the next.
Improving. Refining. Deeper and deeper.
One night, it would work. One night. Some night.
Lemon Pink walked into the feared Everfree forest quietly confident in the knowledge that with all her protections, she was the worst thing in these trees tonight.
This was merely the Everfree. This was merely Equestria. Beyond the borders, that was where the Deeper Green lay.
Big Mac slipped 'Bloom off his back into bed, leaving her ta' sleep in her costume for tomorrow, and kissed her forehead goodnight.
After gettin' changed out of his own lumberjack costume, he went ta' give Granny a goodnight kiss too, and finally hit the hay himself.
He slept wonderfully. Come the morning, he didn't recall no companion on his trot back last night.
He did recall Lilly Bloom's words though. He chewed them over at the same time as his breakfast, about whether ta' believe them or not.
He'd thought he'd decided not ta' give them any mind, but still... was there any harm in being extra cautious? It might help shut up the nasty little voice of worry for a bit.
'Sides, there was a way to verify at least some of what Lilly had said at last night's party sitting across the table from him right now, sleepily munching her own apple fritters. It just took him a minute to get the words together in his head, before he asked:
"Erm. 'Jack. It's fine if it's not any of ma' business, but... 'Ya been meeting anypony special in the orchard after dark?"
The sudden way ‘Jack started coughing on her fritters and avoided answering or eye-contact did not fill Mac with confidence.
---I---
Stats
Page generated in 0.022 seconds
Total duration
962 users online
273,215 hits today, 1,960,719 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Today of all days. I just finished a full re read of the entire story, top to bottom, just a few hours ago.
What are the odds.
Lol me. Only it ain’t anxiety, I’m good turning that off when alone it’s just random thoughts and images that just keeping going and going and then o have to build a story and then repeat a scene 10times for no reason and on and on and on
You know, this was going to be a bad day, but not anymore!
11586606
"May the odds ever be in your favour." 😆
God damn, your such a good writer
Seeing as this is the earliest chapter chronologically, I wonder if we've already seen the result of this ritual.
Perhaps it's the thing that might be prey that we saw in the second chapter. That guest and clawing darkness yevetta saw at night.
Or maybe in whatever it is gloom (or maybe gloom Jr?Gloom paint? Eh. I'll workshop it) is. He does seem to be an outlier certainly, what that means is up for interpretation for now, but still.
I was even thinking about Prey and a Lamb before seeing this new chapter. As always absolutely amazing, i loved the accent writing.
Very happy to be able to read new stuff from you, stay safe!
Also, i should re-read Prey and a Lamb again.
A most pleasant surprise
Big Mac
11586799
Also the land where the Zebra’s come from is canonically called Farasi.
Also, I wonder if Big Mac’s OCD/paranoia may be a result of what happened to his parents? Also, maybe his encounter with Lilly is why he opens up more conversation wise in the later seasons.
Hmm, different for sure. Can't say I don't enjoy Lily becoming the cynical professional I eventually hoped she'd get molded into.
It's funny to me that Lilly, of all people, is the only one of our squad still in the guard.
*Stream, I believe?
I saw this posted and got so excited. I love your writing.
Truly*
Apologies for two separate comments; stumbled upon this near the end. As always, a pleasure to read your beautiful words.
Error Report
That was not okay by Big Bac at all.
let me know if'n you want ta' give (iffen)
They's always happy ta' have (needs space for "They 's")
Dibs I ain't carving that one!
Oh, the zebra sharan afraid of the dark
What they hay was he doing 'ere by himself?
Have you seen Twilight (or/and) the girls?
and forcibly put an end to his
'Sis' missions altogether. (You don't need an apostrophe for Sis, if you insist on putting one there it be at the end, but this one was needed due to being possessive)he glanced around and
foundfor somewhere outNow, bein' a bit of a Southerner m'self, I do find myself questin' sum of yer decisions on how ta portray our accents, but ah'm willin' ta give it a pass seein' how even in good ol' Texas 'erself there be sumthin' like a dozen differen' ones.
I'm also very happy to see Lily again and glad to see she returned to the guard. She managed to become something of a favorite character of mine and I'm glad to see she succeeded in becoming a true guard.
Oh how I missed this. Wonderful work as always. You always have a way of making me glance at the scroll bar as I read, dreading the end of the chapter. Here's to next time.
11586965
Yes, it was supposed to be "stream", and thank you for the corrections.
11587014
Well, as long as you're not too offended. 😅
And thank you for those spelling corrections, as always.
11586951
It was intentional irony, I assure you. 😆
Lilly and big mac?
... I can ship it.
Ive been wanting interactions between the cast of Prey and the cast of mlp for long time now and there exists no known shade of blue that accurately describes the colour of my balls right now
Woop woop! we back!
11587081
Ship! Ship! Ship!
11587081
She’ll have to get in line and compete with Cheerilee, Marble Pie, and Sugar Belle.
Ancient Chinese curse
"May important people know your name.".
Excellent. And the spelling is fine, it gets the point across that this is a way of speaking, and the thought on the inside is clear and concise. It is a fine addition and a good way to show flavor.
Heh, I didn't think I'd see lily returning to the guard. Not only that she seemingly regaining some pride, not in a large measure but enough to ignore judgment.
I must admit I wasn't entirely sure where this chapter was heading with the reader following Big Mac, but I like the implication that Lemon Pink is trying to bring Prey back. On the other hand number 1 on the list was to resurrect Prey's family and Lemon Pink had the same list. I'm interested to see more on that.
Can't wait for the next chapter!
of any enquiry *glares*
Anyway! Excellent chapter, Big Mac has definitely shot to the upper echelons of favorite characters.
Daaaaang, that double reveal of the Night Guard secretly giving the Apple family bodyguards and Luna herself casting a giant security barrier and Lemon Pink casually making a joke out of both security measures just to “pass through” was very well done.
11592892
Heh.
MissingNo.
You can has review!