MLP: The Long Dark

by SparrowFae

CHAPTER 2: The Price of Failure

“This adventure has taught me to never lose faith in your friends. They can be an amazing source of strength, and can help you overcome even your greatest fears.”

CHAPTER 2: The Price of Failure

* * * * *

“Applejack! Wake up!” came the harsh whisper, “I don’t think she’s ever cooked before, and I am not interested in ending our first ever sleep over with food poisoning.”

“Mrmmble. Five more minu– hey!” I exclaimed as my warm blanket was whisked away. I bolted up, glaring at the alabaster white unicorn standing at the foot of the bed. “Ah, Rarity! I was even being careful not to muss up the blankets, just like you showed me.”

“And I do appreciate it, but right now we have more pressing issues. Twilight is currently trying to use a toaster to heat oatmeal.”

“Woah nelly, alright I’m coming,” I said, hopping out of bed and following my friend downstairs. It was a beautiful summer morning. Golden light streamed in through the windows of the great tree that served as Ponyville’s library and Twilight Sparkle’s home. The mess of books and pillows from last night’s antics still littered the main room. It had been one of the best nights ever, a night I’d grown closer to two of my best friends and learned a valuable lesson about myself in the process.

It was one of my dearest memories. Our first sleepover.

I looked across the library at the two unicorns. Rarity was deftly convincing Twilight to let us take over the cooking while she started re-organizing the scattered books. With her silver tongue, I reckoned she'd have Twilight thinking it was her own idea to leave the cooking to us.

Rarity. She'd been the first of my Ponyville friends I'd really connected with. First after Twilight, that is. And boy did that come as a surprise. We were opposites in nearly every way. Fussy, detail-oriented, prim and proper Rarity. Turned out none of that mattered one bit, of course. That unicorn had a beautiful soul. Her taste for the finer things never got in the way of her work ethic, even if it sometimes slowed her down a bit. And she harbored a fierce devotion to her friends and kin. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a little Apple heritage somewhere back in her family tree.

The day it all fell apart, she'd been right there, handling one crisis after another without a single stray hair escaping from her perfect mane. With Rarity at my back and Twilight leading the mission, I was sure we could handle anything. But then we failed. And now this memory was one of the only things that remained of my friend.

I stood at the bottom of the stairs, rooted in place. I wanted to go over and hug them, especially Rarity, but the space between us seemed to be growing.

Across the distance, Twilight turned her lavender gaze toward me. “Applejack. We need to talk–”

* * * * *

I woke up with a gasp. The inside of the caboose smelled of wood smoke and peaches and a pale light illuminated the small chamber. And I was alone. A few tears fell onto the blankets as I sat up in bed. I wiped them away, knowing they would freeze the moment I stepped outside.

My hooves crunched into the snow as I hopped through the door, tying the wool blanket tightly around my neck. The cold would have a harder time clawing through that. The breeze was softer today, but a steady snow had begun to fall. Big, fluffy snowflakes drifted through the air, making everything feel muffled and close. My own breathing was loud in my ears, the only sound I could hear besides the faint cawing of some crows.

I went back to the remains of the fire that had saved my life last night. If Twilight really had been here, there might be some way for me to trail her. The snow and wind had covered any tracks she might have left, but tracks weren't the only signs a pony can leave.

I walked a slow circle around the area, paying close attention to the ravine walls. A flash of blue caught my eye. There was a small tangle of yarn clinging to a bramble about one and a half pony lengths up the steep hillside. Same color as the scarf Twilight had been wearing. I trotted over and stretched up to pluck the yarn out of the thorns. The coarse fibers between my teeth still had the faint scent of books and candles. This was definitely from Twilight’s scarf. Looking up, I saw more thorny brush sprouting from the rocky face. It looked climbable. Barely. I regarded the brambles with a frown. The long thorns and thick bramble looked like it would claw me like an angry chicken with a manicure. But if Twilight could do it, so could I.

Carefully, I reared up and took hold of the lowest vegetation, hauling myself up with a grunt. The thorny bramble raked at my exposed underbelly and snagged at my blanket and scarf, but they served as good hoof-holds. Up and up I went, alternating between anchoring myself with a mouthful of woody, twisted vines and heaving my body up the sheer cliff face with my forelegs.

After a few minutes, I chanced a look over my shoulder. I ain't afraid of heights or anything, but clinging to the side of a cliff, fifty feet off the ground, with nothing to hold on to but some icy stones and a tangle of weeds would give even the most extreme pony a thrill.

Just a few more brambles above me, I could see a small ridge that was supporting one of the trestles that the train track rested on. I could use that to take a rest before trying to climb up onto the tracks. Good thing too, since my legs were starting to cramp and it was getting pretty difficult to bite down on the brambles hard enough to keep from slipping.

I let out a sigh as I clamored onto the ridge, then nearly fell right back down into the gorge as I saw the body. It looked like the engineer pony. When the train first started to detail, he must have been thrown out of the engine . . . Or jumped.

It looked like he'd been alive at least a while after tumbling down under the trestle because he was sitting with his back against the wooden frame. His face was mercifully hidden, huddled into his forelegs. He was absolutely still, literally frozen solid with snow beginning to pile up on his shoulders.

Some movement caught my attention as I stared, something drifting down from the sky. As the object gently settled near the pony I saw what it was. A black feather. Glancing up, I saw the jet black figures circling above, their ragged calls echoing down to my precarious perch. Crows. Being an apple farmer, I’d never much minded crows. They didn’t eat much fruit, unless it was rotting on the ground. They were scavengers, cleaning the land of anything left over after a harvest. Just a regular part of the cycle of life. At least, that was their role in the cycle of civilized, pony life.

Death was part of that cycle. Being from a big family, I’ve attended my fair share of funerals, seen ponies lying in their final rest. It never really bothered me. Just recently, my great aunt Golden Delicious had passed away. The ceremony had been filled with pictures and memories. Aunty Golden had always been a big story teller in our family, but that day was filled with stories of her. I’d never spent a lot of time with her outside of family reunions, but it seemed like all of the older family members had a tale about their favorite one of her cats. Heck, most of those cats were in attendance for the funeral. The whole thing was practically one big pet adoption drive. Aunty Golden’s body made an appearance for a proper viewing, of course. I wouldn’t say she looked like she was just sleeping or anything, but she was all dressed up and presentable. In all honesty, she didn’t exactly look like a real pony. Just a life-like doll, gussied up to look like a pony, and the trappings of tradition and presence of family made mourning into a proper and peaceful affair.

This was nothing like that. The dead stallion crumpled against the trestle was frozen, both literally, and in the sense that he was locked in a tableau of his final moment. He wasn’t carefully arranged or posed. It looked like he’d dragged himself upright and huddled against the cold. He looked . . . real. He WAS real. A few days ago he was a walking, talking, warm-bodied pony. Just like me. If I’d been somewhere else on the train, if I’d been less lucky with where I fell, or if I hadn’t managed to escape the cold, I’d be the same as him. Heck, if I wasn’t careful, it could still be me. If I couldn’t find enough food, or wood, or shelter, then I’d wind up another stiff corpse decorating this frigid island.

My nose hurt. I suddenly realized I was hyperventilating, the chilled air pumping in and out of my sinuses and drying out the delicate lining of my nose. I shook my head and pulled my scarf up over my muzzle, taking deep breaths and trying to steady the heartbeat slamming in my ears. I was okay. I wasn’t even terribly cold just yet, though my ears were starting to prickle. I rubbed at them. My loose mane helped, but the slightest breeze scattered the strands of hair around my face and bit at the tips of my ears. What I wouldn’t give for a hat. I’d been wearing my trusty old cowpoke hat on the train, but it hadn’t made it down into the gully with me. Or at least it hadn’t landed anywhere I could find. Not that it would have provided much protection, being designed mainly to keep the sun and rain off a pony’s head. I needed a proper winter hat. And it just so happened that my frozen companion was wearing one.

I regarded the knitted garment. It was a thick, wool cap embroidered with a vibrant, red maple leaf. A hat like that would keep me a might more comfortable, maybe even save my life if I had to sleep outside. It wasn’t as if my new friend would be needing it anymore . . . but, well. Taking unattended items from an abandoned cafe car was one thing. But removing somepony’s own hat right off their head. Even if they weren’t making their own body heat anymore, it felt a bit too closely related to stealing.

A gust swirled up the ravine, throwing a fresh slop of heavy snowflakes into my face. The damp was starting to get into my makeshift coat and I could feel the cold licking its chops, waiting to sink its claws into me again. A numbness was taking hold in my ears, giving me a taste of what it would be like to go the way of the frozen engineer. With a gulp, I reached out a hoof to grasp the hat. It stuck to the stallion’s scalp and took a firm tug to get loose. Beneath the layer of frost that clung to him, the older buck had a thinning, orange mane. It was the same color as my brother’s.

Overwhelming nausea threatened to make me lose the precious calories I’d had for breakfast. I needed to get away from the grizzly scene. With a jerk, I stuffed the hat onto my head and retreated to the frame of the trestle. The cross-bars were perfect for climbing, but at that moment I reckon I could have climbed up the sheer side of a pegasus’ cloud house. It took less than a minute before I was pulling myself up onto the tracks.

From the top of the trestle bridge, I had a full view of the carnage below. I had no idea how I’d survived the fall. It must have been nearly a hundred feet. Even with the blanket of snow lining the bottom of the gorge, it’d take supernatural luck to avoid being dashed to bits, just like the train cars were.

The bridge the train had been crossing was spanning a wide section where the mountain had given way to a rockslide long ago and didn’t have enough incline to carve out an even ridge to support a track. I was about halfway between either end, and that left me with a choice. Forward, or back. I couldn’t remember passing any sort of civilization since leaving the station at the Boar Island harbor. So, maybe forward?

I tapped a hoof against my chin. Traditionally, the best thing to do in a disaster was to stay put. A train crash wasn't exactly something that would be overlooked. Even in this remote region, a train that was more than a day late without any communication would trigger a search. And a pegasus rescue team should have been here by now. I’d been in plenty of emergency situations, even some world-threatening crises. But something about the stillness of the air was weighing in my chest like a rotten apple.

I needed to find some help, and best I could figure, there was no chance of that going back the way I came. Twilight would reach the same conclusion, so I headed off down the tracks in the same direction we’d been traveling when we derailed.

The planks creaked under my steps. It was a heck of a lot easier to travel without wading through snow up to my ankles, but I was beginning to miss the solid ground. I was no pegasus, and I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be so lucky if I took a second fall off of the train bridge. I kept to the center of the track, right between the two steel rails. It was hard to resist the urge to stare down at my hooves as I walked, but I knew I’d be able to see through the ties. Just the thought of looking down the side of the cliff made me dizzy.

The far end of the bridge was in sight, but barely felt like it was getting any closer as I walked and each hoofstep seemed to echo in the ravine. A sudden gust flowed up from under me, rustling my coat and sending a shudder through the trestles. The whole wooden structure moaned like a cow after too many cupcakes. I stopped with a grimace. There was no way the bridge couldn’t handle a bit of wind, right? It was carrying our train just a few days ago. Of course . . . it had suffered a derailment. That couldn’t be good for the tracks. Another gust started a cascade of shaking in the bridge frame. I looked over my shoulder. The other end was even further away. If a collapse really was a risk, my best option was to get off as soon as I could. So on I went.

For a while, it was easy trotting. The falling snow mostly fell through the tracks, leaving them a little slick, but mostly clear. And the end of the bridge was finally starting to feel like it was within reach. It looked like the track disappeared into a tunnel through the mountain. At the very least I'd be able to get out of the snow for a while. Maybe even get a fire going to dry off my outer clothes.

The heavy flakes were coming down pretty hard now. They were obscuring my vision so bad, I almost didn’t see the huge gap that had been torn in the tracks. I stared down through the gaping ruin, my stomach plummeting about as far down as the ground below me. When the train derailed, one of the cars must have fallen and struck the track before careening into the gorge. A good seven ties were torn away, the rails twisted like snakes in an agonized spasm.

The far side was about ten feet away. At least that was what I figured when I could get my mind to think rationally. My churning gut told me it might as well be a thousand feet across the gap. The wooden ties were wet, even a little bit icy. Taking a running jump might result in a slip right at the edge. Or I could trip when I landed on the far end and tumble off to my doom.

I turned and looked back. The trestle bridge stretched behind me for what looked like a quarter mile. And beyond that? Nothing but wilderness all the way to the coast. Certain death. Taking the leap over the gap wasn’t exactly the smartest play, but I’d have a chance. It wasn't even all that risky, I told myself. The tracks were wider than they felt, and I was an excellent jumper. I even almost beat a pegasus friend of mine in a distance jumping competition once. Would have even won if she hadn't used her wings.

I looked back over the breach, scanning the far edge for anything that might get in my way. A scrap of blue fabric was flapping there, caught in a ragged bit of wood hanging on a broken tie. It was another piece of Twilight’s scarf. She had come this way!

I crouched low and inched my way right up to the edge of the gap and looked down into the ravine. It was hard to see with the snow, but I was sure that I would see the bright lavender unicorn's body if she had fallen into the crevasse. There was nothing down there but gray stone and white wood. She'd made it, and she was somewhere up ahead.

The thought of the bookish mare leaping this gap brought back a memory. It was one of the scarier dangers we'd faced together, along with a couple of our other friends. We'd been out in the Everfree forest when we'd been set upon by a giant hydra.

The three-headed beast had chased us up to the edge of a small canyon with a few rocky spires that served as stepping stones across. We'd all leapt over, except for Twi. She'd been just a few seconds too slow and the hydra had bashed the rock spires apart in its attempts to grab her.

With no other options, Twilight took a leap of faith. It was the first time I truly thought she was done for, and it's hard to describe the feeling of watching a friend desperately trying to escape danger and not making it. It's just about the worst thing a pony can experience aside from being the one falling to their doom.

But then there's the feeling of seeing Twilight soar right back out of that chasm like a phoenix rising from the dead. Surviving the unsurvivable became a common occurrence in our group, right up until the one time we didn't. And even then, Twilight refused to play it safe.

I had to chuckle a little as I regarded the gap in the trestle bridge. This little death-defying jump probably hadn't even slowed the unicorn down.

"Just another hop skip and jump," I muttered.

I backed away from the edge, giving myself plenty of room. To be safe, I untied my improvised cloak and removed my scarf, stashing them both in my saddle bag. The shivers set in immediately, but I promised myself a nice hot fire the minute I got to the tunnel. I pawed at the bridge, clearing away the thin layer of snow. The wood was wet underneath, but I could still get a good grip with the tips of my hooves. Hooves that were rapidly going numb in the cold.

I gave a few stomps to make sure my muscles knew they had a job to do and snorted out a cold breath of vapor.

"Just a hop–" I launched myself forward.
"Skip–" I took two long gallops.
"And jump!"

I looked down. I couldn't help it. And I suddenly knew what it was like to really fly. I'd never really given much thought to how pegasi felt when they flew. It was just so mundane, a nice convenience for travel or putting up decorations. I figured I knew how it felt, having taken my share of trips in hot air balloons or sky chariots. But riding in a basket couldn't compare to the feeling of having nothing below you and being completely untethered. Pure freedom some might call it.

I called it downright terrifying. Something behind my navel clenched in a way I'd never felt before and my legs took over control from my paralyzed brain. Maybe I have some pegasus ancestry, cause my limbs started flapping faster than Granny Smith's cheeks on a roller coaster.

Luckily, the jump didn't last long enough for my flailing to send me off course. My legs remembered to at least try to catch me as I came down hard on the tracks. They did an admirable job. Mostly. My right hind hoof caught the edge of a tie and twisted under my weight, sending me sprawling into a ragged show angel. The explosion of pain and impact on the bridge knocked the wind out of me, and for a moment I just lay there, gritting my teeth and trying to keep back the tears that would freeze my eyes shut.

I'd learned my lesson about stopping unprepared out in the open like that, so I ruthlessly turned myself over and lifted my weight onto my three good feet. It was a good thing the gap in the tracks was close to the end of the bridge, otherwise I don't think I'd have made it with how bad I was limping. Each step brought a flash of pain, but I refused to slow down. The pulsing of my swelling joint might be agonizing, but it wouldn't kill me. The chill working is way into my hide would.

Finally, I passed under the lip of the tunnel entrance and immediately felt more comfortable with dry gravel beneath my hooves. Safely out of the thick snow and rising wind, I quickly set to work starting a fire. Using what I learned the day before, it was a lot easier, but used up the last of the wood I brought from the caboose. Still, I reckoned I'd get a couple hours of flame, and that was enough to put some cheer in my bones.

With the fire crackling merrily, I retrieved my warm garments from my bag, along with the last two pain killers. Those I swallowed down as soon as I boiled a bit of snow-melt in one of the empty soup cans. As the pain eased, I wrapped my only remaining bandage tight around my wounded fetlock and began to feel more confident about the travel ahead.

The fire lasted just long enough to boil some extra water and cook a can of soup. The warmth of the food radiated from my belly, bringing feeling back to my extremities. By the time my fire was burning down, I had hunger and cold held at bay, and was not yet feeling the pull of sleep. By my reckoning, it was only a little past midday, though I couldn't be completely sure with the overcast.

I felt comfortable pressing on. If need be, I could venture out, collect some wood for a long fire, and return to spend the night in the train tunnel. It wouldn't be as luxurious as the caboose, but I'd survive.

Of course, I was hoping to find some kind of shelter, maybe even a settlement further along the track. Twilight would have been smart enough to use the tunnel too, and I wasn't seeing any sign of her, so she must have found some place to stay out there. I held tight to that hope as I shouldered my pack and stepped off, leaving the gorge behind.

The train tunnel was dark. Before my fire was completely gone, I plucked a brand that was cool enough on one end for me to hold on my mouth. It didn't provide much light, and cast disorienting shadows on the walls and curved ceiling, but it let me see well enough not to twist any other hooves. By the time it burned out, there was plenty enough light from the exit.

Leaving the tunnel, I found myself on a gently sloping ramp leading to the heavily forested foothills of the mountain. To my delight, I found a small station platform with a service road intersecting the track at the bottom of the ramp. It looked like a platform for transferring goods on and off the train, which meant there must be ponies living nearby who got shipments from the coast. The road was barely more than a wide, gravel path cutting back and forth in a series of switchbacks down the hill. I thanked Celestia for this first sign of nearby civilization and started making my way down the hill.

Dead sticks and branches littered the ground and I filled my pack with them as I went. The snow might be wet and damp on my coat, but that was just because my body heat melted it as soon as it touched me. But the deadfall from the trees would be cold and dry, at least if I shook the snow off before stashing them in my pack. I’d have plenty of fuel for my next fire.

That is, if I could find somewhere to make a fire. Since starting down the road, the wind had really begun to pick up, blowing the falling snow and picking up even more from the ground to batter me. I hadn't seen a storm with winds this fierce since watching all the pegasi in Ponyville lift our reservoir with a tornado. What in Equestria was going on? There was no way a remote area like this had enough weather ponies to power this big of a storm, and even if they did, why would they? It was just another question that sat in the back of my mind, growing tendrils of creeping dread.

But I couldn't worry about it now. The wind would dump snow and douse any fire I tried to make out in the open. My blanket-coat, hat, and scarf were putting up a brave fight against the cold, but as they grew heavy with moisture, they were slowly losing that battle.

I walked slow. The wind was hammering at me from every side as it swirled against the hill in a blinding eddy. My vision was like trying to look through glasses where the lenses were replaced with snow globes. Luckily, The edges of the road were bordered with wooden barriers, otherwise I probably would have walked right off the path.

Finally, I made it to the bottom of the hill where I found a wide swathe of clear-cut forest. I guess the station I’d found must have been for transferring logs from this operation. The tree stumps did little to block the wind, but through the blizzard I could make out the shape of a small shack further up the road. It looked shabby, its roof rattling loosely in the wind. But its walls were sturdy enough to provide a respite from the storm.

I approached the metal door to the snack and knocked. There was no answer. Trying the handle, I found it unlocked, and as I stepped inside, it was clear the place had been abandoned for a while. The small interior looked like it used to be a bunk house for the lumber ponies. Mattresses and pillows lay scattered on the floor, a short counter was littered with empty cardboard boxes and one of the doors to its built-in cupboard was hanging by a single hinge. It was cold, but without the wind or driving snow, it felt a heap better.

I took a few minutes to rummage around. There was no sign that anypony had been here in ages, so I reckoned nopony would mind if I made use of anything they left behind. Or at least they'd understand I needed it in an emergency.

The first thing I took was a dry blanket from one of the bunks, swapping it in for the blizzard-soaked one I was wearing. The musty smell was a small price to pay for dry wool. Aside from the bedding, there were a few pieces of cloth and a small sewing kit left forgotten under a bed. A book of matches was lying on the counter and in the cupboard was a single can of beans and an energy bar, both only recently expired. I ate the energy bar immediately and stashed the beans in my bag. There was also an empty water bottle which I took to store extra snow melt. And the grand prize, hiding in a corner behind a crate, was a whole set of snow boots. My cracked and muddy hooves practically sighed in relief. I happily donned the hoofwear and retired to a mattress with the rest of my bounty to take stock.

I had plenty of sticks to use as kindling and firewood, a hoof-full of matches, a can of beans, some sewing supplies, and the sharp shard of metal I'd pulled from my foot the night of the crash. In terms of survival gear, it was pretty meager, but it was better than what I had that morning.

Peering out through the small window, I could see that the light was beginning to fade. With the blizzard still raging, it wasn't safe to press on, and I was feeling sleep moseying up to get me. It was as good a time as any to rest, so I grabbed an extra blanket and lay back on the bed. My muscles were used to hard hours of work, but the trauma of a train crash followed by days of laboring in the bitter cold had brought on the sort of aches I only felt after a long week of apple bucking season. The pain in my body echoed a familiar pain in my soul as I remembered the friends who had once helped me with that harvest when Big Mac had hurt his back. I rolled over and buried my face in a pillow, trying to clear their faces from my mind as I drifted into sleep.

* * * * *

Colors danced everywhere around me as I ran, autumn hues from the falling leaves mingling with the brash spectrum of my friend's mane. We ran in lockstep together, our hooves beating the ground in near perfect unison, keeping the perfect pace to shake the vibrant leaves from their branches.

My legs were burning. It had been a long day of racing and this was our second time running the course. I badly wanted a breather, but I wasn't about to be the first to suggest it. I knew Rainbow Dash must have been just as exhausted as me, and we technically weren’t competing on this run, but that didn't mean we wouldn't push each other.

Rainbow Dash. Of all our friends, the sky blue pegasus was the closest to me in personality. Maybe she was a might more impulsive, but we had the same zest for competition, particularly in physical feats. And as much as we both might get caught up in our own pursuits, when the wagon wheel hit the gravel, we stood by our friends.

As we rounded the final bend, the finish line came into sight, a familiar, lavender unicorn nearby. As the end of the course drew near, Dash and I shared a glance. The challenge was clear in her fierce smile and I'm sure my face looked much the same. In a flurry of kicked dirt and flying leaves, we burst into a sprinting gallop and shot down the course like a pair of apples from a colt’s slingshot.

My lungs heaved with fatigue and strain, but at that moment I couldn't have cared more if I had an Ursa Major on my heels. I was alive, with one of my best friends, dashing freely in the sweet, autumn air. We ran together, each trying to squeeze out an ounce more speed, trying to edge ahead of one another one nose at a time. Not to win, just to race.

The look on Twilight’s face as we came barreling toward her shifted from smugly content to surprised to panicked. We were both going so fast, I don't think we could have stopped even if we were still fresh and limber. Lucky Twilight was able to slow us down with her magic just before we collided, or I think we'd have all been crippled.

"You guys!" the bookish mare complained, struggling to untangle herself from the pile of pony limbs. "I thought you agreed that the competition was over."Dash and I couldn't answer on account of the fact that we were both wheezing in uncontrollable laughter. Twilight cocked her head with a disapproving expression. "What's so funny?"

It took a few seconds before Rainbow Dash finally croaked out "Your– heheh– your face!" Twilight scowled at that, sending us into another fit of laughter. I don't know why it was so funny. Maybe we were just the leftover runner’s high that was causing euphoria. Whatever the reason, it was a good feeling. At that moment, I knew I’d always be able to count on Dash to be right beside me whenever we needed a feat of strength or athletics. If we were together, we’d be unstoppable in any physical struggle. And she’d tried so hard, fought so hard to get us all out of the danger on the day of our failure. But some things you can’t beat with brawn alone.

Rainbow picked herself up, not quite hiding the slight wobble in her legs. "Good to know I've got somepony who will always give me a real challenge," She said, offering her hoof to help me up. I wasn't about to let her see me needing help, so I figured I'd make it a friendly hoof bump.

"Applejack, where are you?"

I was suddenly falling, my outstretched hoof gasping at air as I tumbled away from that golden afternoon, down into darkness.

* * * * *

I hit the floor in a tangle of blankets. The cold floor brought me back to myself in a flash of sickening reality. It felt like a black hole had opened up in my gut, curling me into a tight ball. I wanted to scream and weep and buck everything within reach to splinters, but it was too much work just to get free of the blankets, so I just lay there, hurting.

I didn't want to be here. Alone, far from home, one mistake away from death and with no friends to rely on for help. Everything was all wrong. The pure, incomprehensible wrongness was like a black seed inside me, spreading its roots through my flesh.

I thought of the frozen engineer pony from the day before and considered what it might be like to just stay right where I was. I could let it all go, wait for hunger or thirst to pull me gently away from the world and leave my few supplies to whoever found my frozen corpse.

But Twilight was still out there somewhere, and if my other friends were here now, they'd be telling me to pick myself up and get moving. Plus, I needed to use the little filly's room.

With a grumble, I managed to get unstuck from my bedding and set about tending to my needs. It wasn't pleasant in the subzero temperatures outside, but I managed to make a fire in a nearby barrel, so at least I didn't have to worry about frostbite. Beans and snow-melt eased my cotton-dry mouth. I was out of food again. That would need to be my priority today.

The blizzard had ended sometime in the night, and the weak light of pre-dawn was just enough to make out my surroundings. I was still on the same road that wound up the hill to the train tracks. It ran through the small logging operation, which looked like it hadn't seen any workers in years. The few pieces of remaining equipment were rusted and mushrooms were taking over most of the tree stumps. An old road sign stuck out of the snow on the edge of the clear-cut. "FILLYTON 5 MI," it read. A town. I nearly jumped out of my new boots with joy and relief. A couple hour's walk and I'd be safely back in civilization.

Of course, I should have known that it wouldn't be that easy. The sun was just peaking over the horizon as I trotted into the town. Was the sunrise going slower than usual? I shook my head at the thought. Celestia's daily sun raising wasn't my concern. I had more important problems.

Nothing moved in Fillyton. No pony came to get me and there was no sound of the regular hustle and bustle I’d expect, even in a remote, rural hamlet. Every window I could see was either dark or boarded up. Sure looked like an abandoned town to me. But the smell wafting on the wind told me otherwise. Something had happened here recently. Something awful. The stench of cold smoke, burnt paint, and something else that made every hair on my back stand up like corn stalks August. I suddenly felt like the barren wilderness might be a bit more inviting, but I knew the only thing waiting out there was hunger and cold. I either went down into Fillyton, or I’d likely be seeing Aunty Golden Delicious a lot sooner than I’d hoped.

I whinnied at my legs to get a move on, and they reluctantly obliged, carrying me into the creaking ghost town. It was an eerie mix of long deterioration and recent abandonment. Many houses had boards affixed over windows and doors with weathered, rusted nails, while others only had the last few day’s snow piled up on their steps, the rest having been shoveled off to the side. A few of the houses had wood sheds near the door with a few good pieces of dry firewood. I left those for now. Even if everypony had left the town for some reason, they might be back. I had a nagging feeling that was wishful thinking, but I couldn’t bring myself to really believe that this entire town had just disappeared, never to be heard from again. That burnt smell was getting stronger.

It wasn’t a large town. Plodding down the main street, I passed maybe two dozen houses. A small post office stood on a corner, a boxy, stone building jutting from the snow like a tombstone. That building I actually approached. Breaking into somepony’s home was too much, but this was a public building. A notice on the door read “Not accepting mail until next month.” I frowned at that. What kind of post office didn’t post mail? I pushed experimentally on the door. It was locked. I gave a few knocks on the door, knowing it was a vain effort but desperately wanting to get out of the stinking air.

After a few seconds of fool’s hope, I gave up and retreated from the post office. I trotted down to the corner so I could peer down the cross street. The source of the horrid smell perched about halfway down the street like a giant, skeletal crow. It was the rough shape of the schoolhouse in Ponyville, but in a scorched and eviscerated form. The walls of the school were burned down to stumps on two sides and the roof had completely collapsed into the structure’s belly. The hulk of blackened wood repelled me, but I found my hooves carrying me forward with morbid fascination. In a frozen landscape, here were the remains of an inferno. I could see dirty icicles that had formed on the adjacent houses when the heat from the fire melted the snow off their roofs. It didn’t look like anypony had even tried to fight the blaze.

A glint of light caught my eye as I approached. It was a pair of cracked glasses, partially buried in the snow near the warped door. Once I was looking, I noticed a section of broken wall with charred coats still snagged on hooks. I suddenly knew what was making the smell I couldn’t identify. The world dimmed as my pupils dilated to points and it felt like somepony was using the inside of my chest as a bass drum. I backpedaled so fast my rump hit a cart parked across the street. My mind rebelled at the conclusion. Accepting the obvious was like trying to climb into an ice-cold bath, I could drop right in, but as soon as I touched the surface a reflex would force me to draw away. But the truth was as stark as the coal-black wood of the schoolhouse against the fresh snow. Not everypony in Fillyton had left. They were right here in front of me, buried in a pile of splinters and shingles.

I sat on my haunches, trying to make sense of what this meant. Had this been some kind of accident? How many ponies were inside, and had any escaped? Smoke was still curling from the wreckage, so had this just happened? No, wait a tick. That couldn't be right. There was a layer of snow blanketing the burned out building and a skirt of ashy ice had formed around the edge of the walls. To all my senses, the school was dead and cold, so why was it still smoking?

I stretched my neck, looking for the source of the thin wisp of smoke. Moving to the side, I could see that it was actually coming from a row of houses behind the burn site, drifting out of one of the chimneys. Somepony was alive in Fillyton.

Twilight! It had to be! I dashed away from that macabre scene faster than a chicken running from a cockatrice. I shot up the steps of the house’s front porch so fast I skidded into the door with a thud and bounced off, falling in a clumsy sprawl. I rubbed my shoulder as I got back to my hooves. I’d probably scared the mane off of whoever was inside with that thump. I opened the door sheepishly and went inside.

I blinked as my eyes adjusted from the midday sun to the soft firelight. I stepped into a small living room where an empty rocking chair swayed next to the fireplace.

"Hello? Twilight?" I called.

In reply, I received the metallic clang of a frying pan against my skull. A flashbulb exploded behind my eyes and I pitched forward into darkness.

* * * * *

The Ponyville train station was unusually empty as we sat waiting for our train. It was getting close to Hearth's Warming, and most folk were busy preparing for the holiday and wouldn't be traveling until a few days before. Twilight hadn't said a word since we'd left Sweet Apple Acres. The unicorn was practically sitting on the metal case she'd brought with her. I reached over to tap it lightly.

"You really not gonna tell me what this is?" I said, "If I knew what was going on, I might be able to help better."

She probably thought she'd managed to hide the pain that flashed behind her eyes, but I knew her too well.

"I can't tell you. Not yet," She said.

"Well, if it really is confidential, I guess it’s probably for the best," I sighed, "I haven't gotten any better at keeping secrets."

"That's good. You wouldn't be the same without your honesty," Twilight said, wearing a smile that looked like a worn out mask. "I wish I could say that magic was still part of who I am."

I snorted. "You having trouble with magic? You sure you didn't just learn all the spells and now you can't find any new ones to master?"

Her smile grew a rueful edge. "Oh, I'm sure there are a few spells I have left to try. But I was talking about the other kind of magic." I fell silent, feeling guilt for the kind of teasing that would have released some tension in the good old days.

A train whistle broke the silence. "That's us," Twilight said, wrapping her case in telekinetic magic and floating it up beside her. "I'll be honest, Applejack. This won't be an easy trip. We're going to need both kinds of magic to make it through. I know how things are right now, but . . . can I count on your friendship?"

I looked into her violet eyes, suddenly not sure what I was seeing in them. Hope? Fear? I guess there was still more for me to learn about this grim little unicorn I was following into Celestia-knows-what. I wanted to tell her she could always count on me. I think that’s what I did say, that day on the platform. But in my dream, the station was enveloped by steam as the train rolled in and faded away into a swirling pattern of colorful light.

Author's Note:

Hey ya'll. First off I want to thank everyone for the warm reception of this story. I literally have had this sitting half finished for years when I picked it back up last month and found I actually still like it. Figured I'd put out the first chapter and see how it did. I figure having it hit the featured list (first story to manage that) qualifies as a good reason to see it through, but even better, I really am enjoying the writing. Glad you all like it so far, and look forward to more chapters soon!

Comments

[Chaosreverent]

This mystery is intriguing. Can't wait to see where it will go.

[FarObjective0]

Ohhh. Nice! It's following the events of Wintermute.