> Applejack Fixes Everything
>  by Maran
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> My Back Pages
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I don't know if I can hold back anymore. I gotta get the truth out somehow. But I just can't tell nopony yet. They'd think I was crazy. I expect my folks are already starting to think I got a screw loose. But I'd best start from the beginning in case I ever decide to let anyone read this here journal. Wouldn't want them to get confused.

So, to anyone reading this, I want you to remember one thing before you get any further: It was all Apple Bloom's idea. Oh, AB's just a foal at the time I'm writing this. I mean little bitty, with chubby cheeks and button eyes and all. But see, I'm from an alternate future where Apple Bloom is a sixteen year-old potion prodigy.

Hard to believe? I didn't believe Apple Bloom either when she told me that she and Zecora invented a time traveling potion. Well, it wasn't so much an invention as an upgrade of Zecora's “alicorn juice.” Why a zebra made a potion that only worked on alicorns, I'll never know. Seems a mite impractical, is all. And I just now realized that nopony reading this journal is gonna know about the alicorn potion anyway. But that's how she explained it to me.

See, this new potion sends your mind, your consciousness, back in time. And get this – you stay in the past instead of getting yoinked back to the present after a few minutes. Or, not to put too fine a point on it, you have to pass through time like normal until you catch up to where – or when – you were when you drank the potion. What's more, if you're going back to a time when you existed, your consciousness will go into your past body so you can actually change the past. AB and Zecora had already tested the potion on themselves and even they couldn't tell me what became of the past consciousnesses...Is that a proper word? Anyhow, AB spun off on this tangent about time travel creating alternate universes that are just a touch different, and I would've thought it was a bunch of hooey if I hadn't already seen portals to other universes.

Well, the only way to really tell if the potion works is to drink it yourself. I say this because Zecora drank one drop in front of me. All I could tell is that it made her eyes glow like hearths on a winter night. A couple seconds later, her eyes turned back to their normal blue.

“How was it?” I asked her.

“I went back a few minutes in the past, and caught up to the present, at last.”

I'll say this for Zecora, there's something to speaking in rhyme, as silly as it seems. It sure makes it easier to remember her exact quotes. Plus, everything she says is real thoughtful and deliberate. Measured, you might say. Mind you, I ain't about to start rhyming all the time myself. Wouldn't want anybody to think I was making fun of her or nothing.

“Beg pardon, Zecora, but that ain't exactly the most impressive display of magic I've seen,” I told her.

Zecora shrugged. “To see the potion work, I think, the only way is for you to drink.”

“She's right,” said Apple Bloom, putting her foreleg around her. “You can trust Zecora.

AB knows me well. She knew I trusted Zecora more than her, and for good reason.

“Well now, if Zecora says it's safe, I reckon it wouldn't hurt to try?” I was still a bit uncertain, but AB got all excited and spun around like she was a tiny filly.

“Thanks sis!” she said, as if I was doing her a favor, which made me even more suspicious.

Zecora passed me an eyedropper with a bit of murky blue liquid in the tip. I sat down on my haunches so I could hold it in both hooves. The potion had a strange flavor that I can't rightly compare to anything, but I can tell you that it was mildly sweet. As soon as I swallowed, a light flashed so bright it blinded me for a second – it must've made my eyes glow like Zecora's. Next thing I knew, I was walking up to AB and Zecora's potion shop. It felt a touch like being teleported, only more disorienting on account of my body was in a different position. I glanced all round the street. From where I stood, I could just barely read the clock on the tower. It was seven in the evening, just the same time I'd arrived at the shop. I knocked on the door where the “closed” sign hung.

Apple Bloom opened the door, and before she could say anything, I told her, “The potion worked.”

She raised her eyebrows. “How'd you know about that?”

“You just gave me some. Or, you will.” I rubbed my chin. “I won't have to take it again so I'll end up back here, will I?”

“Oh! Naw.” She shook her head. “It don't work like unicorn time travel. We just created an alternate timeline that's a tad different from the one you knew.” Then her pupils shrank as she looked up and down the street. “Wait a minute, we shouldn't talk about this out here! Come in, come in!” She ushered me inside, and I tipped my hat to Zecora.

“Hello again, Zecora.”

She winked. “Welcome back, Applejack.”

“So!” said AB as soon as she closed the door. “I guess y'all figured out that our creation is too powerful for mortals to know about. Not to mention certain immortals. I mean, we can actually create alternate universes! We have power over life and death!”

She reared up on her hind legs and spread her front legs wide, and she looked more imposing than you might suspect. That's because she inherited our dad's height and stood as tall as Princess Cadence, but her body and face were more round, as Apples tend to be. When we found out she was taller than me, she tried to call me Appletini, but I nipped that in the bud right quick.

I stared up at her. “And yet you made it and used it anyway.”

“Well, yeah!” AB dropped back on all fours with a whump. “'Cause I know Zecora and I will use it for the right reasons and we'd never abuse it.”

Dear sweet Celestia and Luna, have I raised the next evil tyrant to try to take over Equestria?

I shot Zecora a look. “And you're okay with this?”

Zecora closed her eyes and lowered her head. “Like Apple Bloom, there is much I have lost. I would recover it at any cost.”

“Oh.” I put my hoof on her wither to comfort her. “I sure understand what it's like to lose something important, but I don't think it's worth risking the potion falling into the wrong hooves. Or claws,” I added, thinking of Discord. Even reformed, he can still be careless sometimes. “And even if you're the only ones who travel back in time, you might accidentally make things worse, and you'd have no idea what you need to do to fix it.”

Apple Bloom looked up at the ceiling. “So, like regular life, then.”

“Well, yeah,” I admitted. “But still, why bother to meddle with the past when everything worked out basically okay? Every bad guy that tried to take over Equestria was defeated or reformed, you and Zecora have your shop, and...” I bit my lip. “I hope we gave you a good childhood.”

“You did!” AB wrapped her forelegs around me. “Y'all were great, and I was happy. It's just that sometimes I wished I could've gotten to know our parents. And they didn't deserve to go out the way they did.”

That was an understatement if I ever heard one. Okay, I reckon I ought to stop beating around the bush. See, in the original timeline – or the original one as far as I know – my parents left on a routine trip to sell food at the Bayou Festival in Hayseed Swamp. And they never came back. They didn't just “go out,” they were mauled and eaten by a chimera. The ponies that found their remains only recognized them by Dad's wooden work collar and the apple-painted wagon nearby. They told me they saw paw prints and cloven hoof tracks on the ground.

My parents had a closed casket visitation a few days afterwards.

Maybe Apple Bloom had a point.

“Nopony deserves that. But if you were to go back to that time, you'd be a foal in diapers.”

AB just stared at me with shiny, pleading eyes, trying to look cute like she did when she was a nine year-old filly.

“Wait a second. You want me to go back, don't you?”

“Please? You're one of the only ponies I can trust, and you have a good motivation!”

“What about Big Mac? You know he wouldn't tell nobody.”

“You're more overprotective. I figure you could use that to your advantage.”

I frowned. “Give me a day to think it over.”

AB nodded. “Sure. Take all the time you need. After all, we got all the time in the world.”

Truth is, I didn't much need to think it over. I was pretty sure I'd already made my decision. I just had to say goodbye to certain folks I wouldn't see in a long while. I raced with Rainbow Dash. I baked cookies with Pinkie Pie. Then I brought some of the cookies to Fluttershy's cottage for afternoon tea. I invited Twilight and Spike over for dinner, much to Apple Bloom's dismay. Twilight seemed to suspect we were up to something, but I don't think there was any way she could've guessed that I was about to travel to the past. But I didn't spend time with Rarity on account of I would see her in the past as soon as I went back.

After dinner, Apple Bloom and I walked Twilight and Spike home, and then we headed over to the potion shop.

“You're ready to go back and save Mom and Dad, right?” AB looked hopefully at me.

“Ready as I'll ever be.”

She hugged me – squeezed the wind out of me, actually. “You're the best big sister ever! And that includes Princess Celestia!”

“Aw, come on now,” I wheezed. Just because I never banished nopony for a thousand years don't make me a better sister than Princess Celestia.

AB released me from her death grip. “I already got the right dosage made up and everything.” She trotted over to a cabinet and unlocked it. “Zecora double checked my calculations. This should take you back to the day before they would've left.” She pulled a large flask out of the cabinet.

“A day should give me enough time.” I took the flask from her, and my heart felt like a jackhammer in my chest. “So, will you remember the timeline that I changed? Or will you remember the original timeline?”

“Oh, I don't know. I ain't worried about that anyway. See, I'm gonna drink the potion myself, but I'm drinking just enough to go back ten years.” She took another flask out of the cabinet and raised it as if she was making a toast. “Then I'll be six years old and have a normal childhood!”

My eyebrow cranked up as high as it would go. “I wouldn't exactly count on having a normal childhood either way. 'Sides, how do you know you won't just go back earlier in the original timeline?”

“I don't. But I'll never know unless I try.”

“The Crusader motto, huh?”

“Eyup! Good luck sis.” AB slowly brought her flask to her muzzle. “See you in the past.”

I nodded. “See you, sugar cube.”

I took a deep breath and guzzled down the potion. The blinding light flashed again.

And quick as a wink, I was in the tiny old one-room schoolhouse. I was sitting at my old desk between Mac and Rarity, and behind little Cheerilee. My muzzle was all filled up with the scent of pencil shavings and old books. I tried my best to keep a poker face and glanced at the little ponies all round the room. Everypony looked cute as a button, even Mac. It's a bit hard for me to think of him as my older brother anymore.

The teacher, Ms. Play Write, noticed my attention wandering. “Applejack, perhaps you could tell us the answer.”

I stared at her like a frog caught in a flashlight. “Uh, beg pardon, but could you – sakes, is that my voice?” It sounded a lot higher-pitched than I remembered.

Rarity and Mac stared at me in confusion.

Ms. Write raised her eyebrows. “Applejack, I know summer vacation is only a week away, but please try to pay attention. I asked how water gets in the clouds.”

“Why, that's easy! The pegasi make a twister that sucks the water outta the lake and up to the weather factory in Cloudsdale.”

“That's correct. Now, can you tell me how many wing power are needed to lift the water?”

I drew a blank. To be honest, my eyes always glaze over whenever Dash and Twilight talk about wingpower and that measuring doohickey – what is it called? A nemometer?

“Uh, two hundred?” I guessed.

“That is not even close. McIntosh, do you know the answer?”

“Eyup,” he answered in a voice that was deep for his age, but still higher-pitched than I was used to.

After an awkward pause, Ms. Write asked, “Can you tell us the answer?”

A filly snorted behind us. I reckon she knew what Mac would say next.

“Eyup.”

A couple of foals laughed. Ms. Write narrowed her eyes at Mac. I suppose she thought he was being either stubborn or cheeky.

“You gotta ask him an open-ended question,” I told her. Then I raised my hoof as an afterthought. “Uh, ma'am.”

The teacher cleared her throat. “All right then, how many wingpower are required?”

“Eight hundred.” Mac always was good with numbers. Me, ain't even sure if I wrote down the right number just now. He could've actually said nine hundred and you'd never know unless you asked him. Unless you happen to be Twilight. Or Dash. Or possibly Fluttershy.

Anyhow, I kinda let my mind wander again as I thought about the task ahead. All I wanted to do was go home and see my parents. It was hard to sit still at a desk for so long. But when class was finally dismissed and the fillies and colts galloped outside, I just felt more nervous than ever. Why, I was gonna see my parents, alive, for the first time in about fifteen years. What if I couldn't keep my composure? Should I care about that? What if I couldn't even keep them from being eaten?

“Darling,” said Rarity in her cute little filly voice, “I couldn't help noticing that you seem distracted today. Is everything all right?”

“Oh, sure, everything's just dandy. Thanks for asking though.”

“Are you sure?” she looked carefully at me.

I bit my lip. “Well, since you asked, I reckon I'm a tad concerned about my parents going to Hayseed Swamp this weekend.” I looked at Mac, and his brow was furrowed. He really didn't understand what was bothering me either. And why should he? Mom and Dad had gone on trips by themselves before and nothing bad happened.

“Hayseed Swamp? Why are they going there?” She frowned. “I don't actually know where Hayseed Swamp is. I barely passed geography.” Her ears flicked back.

I knew the way by heart. “You know where the castle ruins are?”

“I think so, yes.”

“If you go past there, you cross a river, and then you keep going till you come to the princess-forsaken  Fire Swamp, and if you somehow find your way outta there, congratulations, you're in Hayseed Swamp. And the only way out is to go through all that a second time.”

Rarity brought her hoof to her mouth. “Oh dear, the Fire Swamp sounds dangerous. No wonder you're so worried. Have you talked to them about it?”

“Not yet. I'm fixing to have a word with them as soon as I get home.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

I thought for a moment. “You know, I think I got this, but if anything comes up, I'll let you know.”

Mac and I left the schoolyard and headed straight up the hill toward our farm. Mac kept looking at me all curious-like.

“I can guess what you're thinking,” I told him, “and don't you fret. I'll just have a chat with Mom and Dad and everything will be peachy keen.” I knew the chances were slim that it would be that easy, but hey, you gotta think positive, hear?

I remembered that my parents were in the barn, loading the wagon for their trip the next morning. I slowed my pace as I went up to the door, taking the time to steel myself. Then I took a deep breath and peeked inside the door. Sure enough, my parents were there in the flesh, just like I remembered them. Dad had his wooden work collar like usual, and his long reddish-brown tail brushed the ground. And Mom, she had a scarf tied around her head to keep her sandy blond mane out of her face, and she turned to look at me with those deep orange eyes that Apple Bloom inherited.

“Hey there sugar cube.”

All hope of keeping a cool head went flying out the window. I ran to her and threw my forelegs around her neck like she was a life preserver and I was being dragged out by a riptide.

“AJ? Are you ok?”

I didn't trust myself to answer her on account of I was sure I'd be too choked up.

Mom glanced up at Mac, who was lurking in the doorway. “Oh, howdy Mac. What's bothering Applejack?”

Mom was one of the few ponies who figured out how to ask Mac direct, open-ended questions.

“She's worried about your trip,” he answered.

“Really?” asked Dad. “Is that all?”

I always thought my dad would've made a great announcer. He has this soothing, authoritative voice, with just a touch of a Manehattan accent. If you've been wondering why I call my parents “Mom” and “Dad” instead of something more countrified, well, you can thank my dad - or blame him, however you wanna look at it.

I pulled away from Mom and put my hooves on Dad's foreleg, staring up into them green eyes. “Of course it is. There's a whole mess of predators in the Everfree Forest, not to mention lands prone to rock slides. And that's before you even get to the Fire Swamp! What if y'all forgot your fireproof boots, or your lion tamer's chair? It ain't worth risking your hides just to sell a few pies and fritters.”

My parents stared slack-jawed at me, as if I'd said that apples are just an ok fruit.

Then Dad said, “Has your grandmother been telling you scary stories again?” He glanced at Mom. “We should have a talk with her, Spice.”

“Never mind that! It's true, ain't it?”

Mom rested her hoof on my back. “Hon, your daddy and I don't want you to fret about us. Sure, there's some risk, I won't lie to you. But we've gone on this trip since before you were born. We made it to Hayseed Swamp and back before, and you can bet your boots we'll do it again.”

You can be sure I was crying on the inside when she said that. One of the tears may have spilled over to the outside, too.

“Y'all said you won't lie to me. You can't promise you'll make it back.”

Mom and Dad shared a look.

“What if...” Mom began, rubbing her chin. “What if you and your brother helped us pack? We could show y'all how prepared and careful we are, and y'all could learn how to pack for day trips on your own someday.”

Mom didn't know it, but she'd given me an idea. If I couldn't convince them not to go, maybe I could convince my parents to take me along with them to keep them safe. I had gone on that trip several times on my lonesome and came out no worse for wear. Sure, I was a littler pony than I used to be, but I had years of experience traversing the wildest parts of Equestria. 'Sides, there was safety in numbers, right?

“That's a fine idea, Mom,” I told her. “I'll make sure y'all have everything you need!”

Dad ruffled my mane. “Of course, you're the expert Jackie,” he said playfully.

“Come on in here Mac.” Mom waved him all the way into the barn. “I wanna show you the map of our route.” She unfolded a map of the eastern half of Equestria. “Now, we're here. Hayseed Swamp is all the way over yonder.” She pointed with her hoof, which I can tell you is a mite hard to do with close-up details, but she managed.

I looked to the west of her hoof and noticed a disclaimer under the legend: “Distance Not to Scale.” I suppose it was too much to ask for an honest map that showed how far away things actually are.

Mac frowned.

“What are you thinking, honey?” Mom asked him.

“Why is it called the 'Fire Swamp'? Is it really on fire, or is it just hot all the time?”

Dad spoke up. “Actually, the land is volcanically active. There's a large magma chamber below the swamp that sends up hot gas and flames through vents scattered throughout the swamp. It's really a fascinating region.” I ain't sure if “volcanically” is a real word, but darned if he didn't make it sound convincing. He also beamed disconcertingly like Pinkie Pie describing a new flavor of cake.

Mac's frown deepened. “How are y'all getting a wooden wagon through that?” He pointed at the wagon.

“Very carefully,” said Dad. “And the bottom is metal plated, so that helps.” He reached down and banged on the bottom to show him.”

“And another thing that helps is our fireproof boots.” Mom glanced around the cluttered barn. “Which are somewhere round here, I expect.”

“You said you found them.” Dad looked at her sharply.

“I did.” Mom rubbed her crest. “And then I set them down someplace, and darned if I can't remember where.”

I felt a stab of fear. “We gotta find them right now!”

“Eyup,” agreed Mac.

“Come on Mac, help me look!”

We dug through the miscellaneous junk, tools, and family heirlooms, and I set aside some things that would come in useful, such as a length of rope and an extra map. After I'd assembled a small pile, Mac pulled a shiny black boot out from under a blanket and tossed it into the wagon.

Dad fished it out with his tail and held it toward Mac, shaking his head. “McIntosh, you don't just randomly throw things in the wagon. You have to make sure the weight is distributed evenly, otherwise it's likely to tip over, or worse.”

Mac let out a really equine sigh. I could just tell he was thinking, 'Not this again.'

“Listen to your father, Mac.” Mom lifted up the blanket and started piling the boots next to the wagon. “It ain't easy hauling an overloaded, wobbly wagon cross the country.” She glanced my way. “That's a pretty little pile you got there, sugar cube. I doubt we'll need the other map - I don't expect we'll even need the one. But you can hang onto it while we're gone.”

My ears flicked. “Well now, I was actually hoping I could go with y'all.”

Mom froze, holding a boot in her hoof. “What – tomorrow?”

I nodded.

“Land sakes child! You ain't big enough to into the Everfree, much less the Fire Swamp!” She sat back on her haunches and looked up at the ceiling. “I mean, your brother might be old enough to ride along in the wagon, but you ain't even got your mark yet!”

I glanced back at my flank, which was in fact blank (didn't even mean to sound like Zecora there). It's a bit odd, now that I think about it. I already knew what my special talent was, so shouldn't it have appeared as soon as I went back in time? Not that I really minded either way. This might sound crazy, but if you only knew what I've been through, you'd understand why it was kinda nice to have a vacation from my mark. There's all sorts of fancy spells that can change your cutie mark, which can also alter your behavior, memories, or personality. And then there came this magical artificial intelligence that turned my mark into a call button every time it wanted me to rush cross the country to help some filly with her lemonade stand. I tell you what, in times like that, I envy donkeys.

...Where was I? Oh, yeah.

“I can come?” Mac spoke up, with a hopeful expression.

“I...” Mom held her boot to her chest. “What do you think, Arbor?”

“I think they could both come along if they stay in the wagon.” Dad rubbed his chin. “We'll just have to bring plenty of extra water.”

Mom frowned. “You don't think two little ponies would be chimera bait?” she asked bluntly.

Mac's eyes widened.

“No more than two bigger ponies,” Dad said smoothly. “Besides, it'll give us a chance to test out our new chimera repellent!” He held up a canister. “It'll be educational for everypony!”

I'm pretty sure he was joking.

Mom's eyebrows tabled. “You do realize that's just run-of-the-mill pepper spray.”

Dad shrugged. “If it doesn't work, there's always our tried-and-true lion tamer's chair and ricotta cheese. Besides, Mosley and I used to do dangerous things all the time when we were growing up. We didn't always live in high society, you know. One time, when we were younger than Applejack...” He paused and lowered his voice in a confidential tone. “We rode the subway. Unsupervised.”

Mom had started rubbing the bridge of her nose. She looked up at him. “The underground train? Is that dangerous?”

“Oh, you have no idea. You never know who or what you'll meet on the subway. Muggers, con artists, rats the size of your head, even the odd diamond dog. Mosley and I faced all that, and we came out all right.”

“Even supposing you're right, there ain't enough room in the wagon for both Mac and AJ and all of our products.”

“You could pull them in the small wagon, and I could pull the big one with the food.” Dad pointed to each wagon.

“Please, Mom?” I put my hoof up on her shoulder. “I'll stay outta trouble, and I could be a big help to y'all. You might've forgotten your boots if it wasn't for me and Mac.”

Mom pursed her lips. “Well...If you come with us, y'all have to promise to stay in the wagon.”

I nodded. “Pi – I mean, I promise.” I just barely caught myself saying “Pinkie Promise.” Mom didn't know about that, of course.

She stood and loomed over me. “And you have to promise not to find any loopholes to get outta your promise.”

My jaw dropped. “I would never!”

“Come on now, Applejack. I know you better than you know yourself. Can you look me in the eye and tell me you never got out of a promise on a technicality?”

I hesitated as I thought back. There was the Running of the Leaves, when I'd flown on Pinkie's balloon after I'd told Rainbow she couldn't use her wings. But that was a rule, not a promise...Although, that didn't make it any better.

Then of course there was the time I Pinkie Promised my best friends that at breakfast I would tell them why I took a job at the cherry farm instead of going home to Ponyville...And then I decided to skip breakfast (it's a long story, I'll have to write it down some other time, I'm going off on a rabbit trail as it is).

Point is, neither of those things happened yet, and they probably never will, now.

But then earlier memories came seeping to the surface. Memories of annoying my brother just to get a reaction out of him. Does this bug you? I'm not touching you!

Mom was waiting for my answer.

I ducked my head. “Maybe you got a point. I promise I ain't gonna find no loopholes.”

“I hope you mean you're not going to find any loopholes.” Dad held up his foreleg. “I know how you like your double negatives, but you shouldn't use this as an excuse to suddenly decide that it means you are going to find loopholes.”

I snorted. “Fine.” Then I cleared my throat and imitated Aunt and Uncle Orange. “I shan't find any loopholes.”

My folks stared in shock before they burst out laughing.

Mom actually clutched her sides. “You are a hoot!”

“When did you learn to talk like that?” asked Dad.

“Oh, you know. I pick things up.” It was sorta true. But only sorta.

We finished loading the wagons in lighter spirits. I put in a good first aid kit with burn cream. I was gonna keep my family safe, or die trying. And since I'm writing this a few weeks after the fact, I expect that you know I didn't die. But I didn't know that at the time. I was ready to die trying, is what I'm saying. I just hoped Apple Bloom could forgive me if I did.

When we went outside round the back of the farmhouse, I saw Granny Smith grilling veggie kabobs.

“Howdy y'all! I figured it's close enough to summer for a cookout,” she said with a cheerful wave.

Apple Bloom was sound asleep nearby in the shade of a braeburn apple tree. She looked so sweet and vulnerable that I could hardly stand it.

“Why is she so cute?” I whispered.

Dad ruffled my forelock. “Why is any little pony so cute?”

Mom nuzzled Granny's cheek. “Thank you kindly for offering to help with the foals tommorrow, Ma. Looks like we'll only need you to foalsit Apple Bloom, though.”

“Why? Where are the other younguns going?”

“They're coming with us to the Bayou Festival.”

Granny's eyes widened. “At their age?”

“If you think it's a bad idea...” began Mom.

“Aw naw, I think it's a great idea, Spice! I'm just surprised y'all are letting them tag along.”

“Oh. I forgot who I was talking to,” Mom said wryly.

“Why, I was McIntosh's age when I started running round the Everfree Forest and facing down timberwolves.”

Mom stuck the tip of her hoof under her scarf to scratch her head. “I thought you were a mite older when that happened. 'Sides, the family was starving, so it wasn't like y'all had a choice.”

“Maybe not, but I survived, and so will Mac and Applejack. Us Apples are tough nuts to crack, if'n you'll pardon my mixed metaphor.” She took the kabobs off the charcoal grill and set them on a platter.

The kabobs were delicious, but my stomach was all twisted like a tumbleweed, so it was all I could do to force down a few pieces of mushroom and sweet potato.

It was harder still to fall asleep that night. I kept thinking about keeping my folks above ground, if you catch my drift. I was gonna have to keep a sharp eye out and rely on every trick I'd picked up over the years. And it was gonna be more difficult to do that if I didn't get enough sleep. But the harder I tried to get to dreamland, the further away I was. Around 1:00 am, I pulled back the window curtain and gazed up at the full moon. It was mighty strange seeing the “Mare in the Moon” again. Will she escape and be reformed the same way this time? I still don't know.

I must've fallen asleep eventually, 'cause I woke up all discombobulated. You know the feeling when you stay at a hotel and wake up and forget where you are for a few seconds? Well, I felt like that, only instead of forgetting where I was, I forgot when I was. And also I forgot my legs weren't as long as they oughtta be. That was gonna get frustrating real quick. But there's nothing for it but to wait it out and grow all over again. Us earth ponies can work wonders helping plants and even crystals grow fast, but can't do nothing to help ourselves grow. Perhaps that's for the best, though. I once witnessed a certain child grow bigger than my barn in a couple days, and well, the less said about that, the better.

Anyhow, after a quick trip to the bathroom, I ran out to the barn, quick as a lizard with its tail on fire. Maybe it was a touch Twilight-ish of me, but I just couldn't be satisfied till I made absolutely sure we had everything we might need to survive a chimera attack.

Dad found me cataloging the big wagon's contents, a look of concern creasing his pale orange face. “Is everything all right, Jackie?”

“So far so good,” I said, lifting up a canteen to feel how full it was.

“No, I mean with you. You barely ate anything last night, and just now you galloped through the kitchen without even looking at the pancakes your grandmother made. And you're always hungry. So,” he said, walking up and putting his giant hoof on my shoulder, “tell me what's wrong.”

I drew on all the knowledge I'd gained over the years, seeking an answer that would satisfy him enough not to press any further. Oddly enough, the wisdom of Pinkie Pie sprang to my mind – and it was something she'd said that wasn't even particularly helpful at the time.

“I'm a tad nervous, but I'm gonna use that nervous energy for something positive!” I stared at his mouth, not quite able to meet his eyes, and forced a grin.

He seemed fooled by my brave face. “That's the spirit!” He rubbed my back. “Now, come inside and eat breakfast and then we'll finish up out here.” Without waiting for a reply, he scooped me up and set me on top of his strong back, giving me a ride back to the house.
> No Matter What Comes
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I knew I had to keep up my strength to prepare myself for the dangers that lay ahead that day. But I was fretting so much that I couldn't even enjoy Granny Smith's apple cinnamon pancakes. I might as well have tried to eat Cloudy Quartz Pie's cooking (no offense to Big Mama Q, but granite is for kitchen counter tops, not an ingredient for soup).

Mom was sitting next to me, cradling Apple Bloom in her foreleg while she bottle-fed her. AB's tiny hooves gripped the bottle as she gulped down her milk like it was...well, like it was the last time Mom would ever feed her. My eyes welled up with tears, but I couldn't look away.

After everypony had eaten as much as they could, we all went out to the barn to make sure everything was secure in both wagons. Apple Bloom rode on Mom's back, hiccuping loud enough to wake the dead. Heh, she kinda did wake the dead, in a roundabout way.

Mom passed her over to Granny. “You be good for your Granny while we're gone, sweet pea.”

“Aw, she's always a good little foal,” said Granny, reaching up to make sure AB was balanced on her back.

“Mama bye – hic – bye?” asked Apple Bloom.

“Your mom and I will be back soon,” said Dad, nuzzling her cheek.

“Dada bye bye?” She grabbed his muzzle as he pulled his head away and clung to him like a monkey, trying to curl her little red tail round his neck.

“Apple Bloom.” I looked her in the eyes, all serious-like. “I promise that Mom and Dad and Mac and I will all come back for you. No loopholes.”

She blinked her amber button eyes at me, and lowered her eyebrows, and she nodded like she understood exactly what I meant. 'Course, it was probably just one of them experimental expressions that foals tend to make.

Granny gently pried Apple Bloom off of Dad's head and held her while my parents hitched themselves up to the wagons.

“Climb on in, my little ponies,” said Mom, who was pulling the smaller wagon. “We got a lot of ground to cover afore noon.”

“Just a second.” I nuzzled Granny and Apple Bloom goodbye, just in case I broke my promise and winded up inside a chimera.

Then I hauled my flank up into the wagon next to Mac, and the four of us set off into the Everfree Forest.

I've gone into the Everfree plenty of times, in the other timeline. But this time, I was as scared as the first first time I'd gone in there. Every rock looked like a cragodile, and every harmless tree snake looked like a chimera.

When we were about halfway through the forest, Mom said, “Look, y'all!” She pointed to the left with her muzzle. “A wild phoenix!”

I looked where she was pointing and saw a shining orange bird flying between the tree branches.

“I see it!” said Dad. “Maybe if we're quiet, it'll fly back toward us.”

Not likely with Dad gabbing in his announcer voice. Not that I minded for an instant. I don't wanna get all sappy on you, but Dad's voice is worth a hundred phoenixes to me.

Dad looked at us over his shoulder. “You know, phoenixes are a symbol of hope and renewal, because they die in flames and are reborn in the ashes.”

Just like a couple of miracle ponies I could mention.

“They benefit the forest, too. Since there are no earth ponies here to control the plant growth, the underbrush can become too dense and dry, and whenever there's a wild thunderstorm or a migrating dragon flying too low over the trees...well, you can imagine how dangerous that could be for the forest.”

“Eyup,” said Mac, gazing round at the trees and ferns with a critical eye.

“So, when the phoenix dies and combusts, it creates a controlled burn that clears out the extra tinder,” explained Dad.

“Long story short, not everything in the Everfree is scary,” said Mom, winking up at me.

“Right,” I said. “'Cept it's liable to catch fire when you least expect it.”

“It's a controlled fire.” Dad flicked his tail. “It's only in the Fire Swamp that you have to worry about fire coming up out of the ground at random.”

“That makes me feel so much better.” I rolled my eyes.

When we finally broke out the other side of the Everfree, it was like being in the eye of a hurricane, or so I've heard. Come to think of it, I'd have to go back several more decades in the past to experience what it's like to be in an actual hurricane. Not that I have any intention of doing that.

We were in this green meadow, with the sun shining in our eyes, and the mountains on our right, and the river on our left. And up ahead, we could just see the dark green line that made the western edge of the Fire Swamp. I couldn't help staring upward, looking out for any eagles that might swoop down and carry off our lion tamer's chair or something else important. They're sneaky, those eagles.

Dad said something very dad-like about how we were making good time.

I suggested to him that he and Mom might want to put on their fireproof boots before they got too much closer to the Fire Swamp.

“I reckon we'll wanna wait till we cross the river, at least,” Mom answered for both of them. “Black rubber galoshes can get powerful hot in the sunlight, savvy?”

“Can't be any hotter than the Fire Swamp,” I pointed out.

“I suppose not. I'll put my boots on as soon as we go over the bridge, ok sugar cube?” She nodded at the old stone bridge ahead.

I felt as nervous as a Breezy in a beehive as the wagons rumbled cross the bridge, and the dark line of cypress trees looked closer. It wouldn't be long before the moment of truth arrived – the moment I found out whether or not this risk was worthwhile. Mom and Dad put on their boots when we got to the other side of the river, and sure enough, minutes later they were sweating like glasses of lemonade. I may have had the flop sweats myself. I needed to have my defensive weapons at the ready. I placed one hoof on the chair and another hoof on the old empty jug I'd dug out of the barn. Mom and Dad never owned a proper snake charming flute, which was part of the problem, you see, so I brought the jug along to find out if it would make a good substitute. I reckon I ought to have mentioned the jug sooner, but I didn't think of it till now.

If Mom noticed my anxious fidgeting, she didn't say nothing. She paused and pulled off the empty canteen that hung from a belt round her neck, and she threw it to Mac, who caught it with deft hooves.

“Toss us a couple fresh canteens, will you honey?” she asked.

Mac found some canteens and threw them. Mom caught her full canteen in her foreleg, and Dad caught his with his long tail. Once they were properly hydrated, they were finally ready to step foot in the Fire Swamp.

Oh, by the way, if there are any dragons or griffons reading this, rest assured that pony hooves are feet just the same as your little paws are.

Anyhow, the first thing that strikes you about the Fire Swamp is not so much the heat, but the smell. That's because, besides flames, the geysers spit out sulfur dioxide, or so my dad told me, and I dare you to argue with him. But somehow, plants and trees still grow there. There ain't many leaves close to the ground, but high up away from the hot gas, leaves grow on the cypress trees and swamp pines, and moss clings to the branches for dear life.

One of the bad things about the gas, aside from covering up the scent of everything else, is that it creates a soupy fog that makes it hard to see too far. But at least the chimeras have the same disadvantages as us ponies in that respect.

“Keep your hooves inside the wagon, children,” said Mom. “Wouldn't want the geysers to shoot up at y'all.”

Granny Smith once told us a story about her cousin who went into the Fire Swamp and got his foreleg burnt off to just a little nubbin. I'm certain she was exaggerating, on account of I've seen all her cousins and not a single one of them was ever missing a leg. I think Granny just enjoys scaring us sometimes. Still, that don't mean that kind of thing could never happen to a pony.

Suddenly a geyser roared to life in front of Mom, behind Dad's wagon. It rose high above her head, and it made me jump even though I was expecting it. Mac put his foreleg around me while Mom jerked to a stop and skirted the geyser.

I peered through the fog, taking advantage of the firelight to look out for the chimera.

Sure enough, there were three pairs of eyes reflecting the yellow light. They were grouped all together in front of the wagons, and a little to our right.

My blood turned to ice despite the volcanic activity that surrounded me.

“What is it AJ?” Mac asked quietly.

“Chimera at one o'clock!” I pointed my hoof at the six eyes.

“Awww, the little one gave usss away,” said the cobra head. “Can I eat it firssst?”

Dad slipped out of his harness so he could move more freely. He held up the pepper spray in his tail.

“Don't you dare touch her!” he said. “I've got chimera repellent, and I'm not afraid to use it!”

“Thaaat's cute how you think a little pepper spray will stop us, when we get burned by geysers on a regular basis,” said the billy goat head.

The chimera stalked toward Dad, its three heads grinning like Twilight about to test a new magic spell, as she tells you that “this may feel a little funny at first.” The third head was a leopard instead of the usual lions and tigers I've seen.

Dad turned so that his body was sideways to the chimera and, still holding the canister in his tail, he sprayed the repellent at the predator. At the exact same time, the cobra spit venom at Dad. The two streams hit each other in a hot, misty explosion. Dad and the chimera shielded their faces with their forelegs, and none of them was hurt by the sprays. The good thing about this was that the snake had used up all of his venom and wouldn't be able to make more right away.

I figured this was the perfect time to try out my jug. Taking a deep breath, I blew the one note loud and long.

Jugs are really better suited for percussion than a melody. I wasn't surprised when the cobra didn't fall asleep. Still, it had been worth a try.

“What are you doing?” asked the snake head, staring at me like I'd turned into Pinkie Pie and sprouted a dozen extra legs, as she does.

Mom chose that moment to grab the ax out of the wagon and fling it at the chimera. The heads barely ducked in time, and even then, the ax still grazed the back of the cobra's neck. Hissing in pain, the snake pulled back as blood dripped onto the bulk of the creature's body.

“Nice distraction AJ!” said Mom.

The leopard face growled. “Are you hiding any more weapons in these wagons?” The chimera leaped over Dad and landed on top of his cart, making the wheels creak.

Mom slid out of her harness and gave me a significant look. “Just this.”

I understood her implied maternal command, and hoofed her the lion tamer's chair. As the chimera jumped down to the ground in front of her, Mom wedged the chair into the leopard's mouth, propping his jaws open. But the goat head hadn't been attacked yet, and he kept his eyes on the prize. He swiped his paw at her, catching her in his razor-sharp claws. Mom screamed and put both forelegs round the paw, trying to pry it off her chest.

There was no way was I gonna let my Mom get torn apart by a chimera again. Using my teeth, I picked up the lasso I'd packed and twirled it in the air.

Whenever I'm in “the zone,” I can control my lasso like an extra leg. I think Dad calls it “tactile telekinesis,” but I don't know for sure. You'd have to ask him. Anyhow, I used the force of my entire little body to propel the lasso forward and round the goat's and leopard's necks. Then I broke my promise to Mom. I jumped out the wagon and landed on the ground beside it, and I pulled the rope as low as I could. The chimera lost their balance and toppled onto their side. Their paw pulled away from Mom with a loud tearing noise, and it hooked its claws inside the loop, trying to loosen it. The two mismatched heads gagged and struggled as cobra joined in, tugging at the rope with his fangs to try to free them.

As I pulled the lasso tighter, I felt my flank tingling, but I paid it no mind, on account of I had more important things to worry about.

“AJ, look out!” shouted Mac.

I glanced up to see another motley trio of noggins towering over me – lioness, goat, and viper. Their heavy paw landed on my back, pinning me to the ground, the claws just starting to stick into my hide.

It wasn't all that surprising, really. I'd always thought it should have taken more than one chimera to bring down my parents, tough as they were.

I tried to wriggle out from underneath the paw, but the claws dug in deeper.

Then suddenly a pie flew into the lioness' face, making the predator stagger back. As soon as they lifted their paw to regain their balance, I scrambled away and pressed my back against the wagon. I craned my neck to look up behind me. Mac glanced down over the side of the wagon and nodded at me before picking up another pie and hurling it at the goat head. Even though he's not full-grown, Mac is already as strong as most adult earth ponies, so he can throw foodstuffs with near-lethal force.

During the commotion, the first chimera tugged off the lasso, gasping for breath. All three pairs of eyes glared daggers at me. The predator crouched down and leaped straight for me, but a geyser erupted between us, burning the chimera in midair. The three mouths screeched in pain as the smell of scorched hair filled the swamp. They dropped down into the cool mud, putting out the flames on their coat.

At this point the second chimera had licked most of the pie filling off their faces, and they ran round the geyser and jumped up onto Mac's wagon. Mac saw them in time and dropped down to the ground between the two carts. He stopped in his tracks in front of Mom, staring wide-eyed at the blood smeared on her pale green coat. Mom looked stunned herself, but she had the presence of mind to push him behind her.

It was mighty hard to keep track of what everypony – and everychimera – was doing. I didn't see the cobra head of the first chimera coming towards me until Dad galloped over and beaned it with a big old branch. It fell to the ground like a wet noodle. The other heads growled at him as they pulled their legs under their body, getting ready to charge at him. He swung the branch at the leopard's face, and the big cat caught it in his jaws. They pulled back and forth in a hostile game of tug-of-war. I noticed how the chimera had all four legs braced on the ground. Then I turned round and bucked the goat with my small-but-powerful hind leg. The left half of the chimera went as limp as a Hearthswarming doll (the Apple kind, not the Pie kind). Shocked, the leopard let go of the branch as he tried to stay on his two good, conscious feet. Dad stumbled back just a little before he caught his balance. The leopard head looked at the other two knocked-out heads before meeting Dad's eyes.

“I give up,” he said, his eyes large and round. “I can't hunt like this. Please, let us go.”

Dad took his branch out of his mouth and held it in his foreleg so he could reply, “You weren't going to let us go.” Then he clubbed the leopard head. The predator's eyes rolled back as he fell forward into the mud.

“Are you all right Jackie?” asked Dad, giving me a quick look over.

“I'm fine. I'm more worried about Mom and Big Mac.” I glanced between the two wagons and saw Mom and the chimera facing off. The goat head had a black eye, and Mom was covered in more blood than before, and I didn't see Mac anywhere. I bit my lip.

“Applejack, look where that chimera is.” Dad spoke more hushed than usual. “If we quickly push the two wagons together, we can trap it. Do you think you can do that?” His eyes strayed to my flank, and I followed his gaze. If you're reading this, of course, you've already seen my mark. A lasso.

“Huh. I thought for sure it'd be apples.”

Dad gave me a half-smile. “Don't worry about that now.”

“You're right, Dad. 'Course I'll help you save Mom. I'll get behind the wagon, and you just tell me when to push.”

Dad nodded, and I ran behind the rear wagon. He galloped over to Mom and whispered to her. Hopefully the chimera didn't hear him, since Dad normally doesn't realize how loud he is. I peeked over the wagon and saw Mom ducking down.

“Now!” shouted Dad.

I pushed my shoulder against the cart and moved forward, pushing with all my might. The chimera bleated and yowled in pain. I knew I had to keep pushing until it stopped.

“No!” yelled the viper. She tried to lash out at me and Dad, but she couldn't reach us.

Then suddenly, there was a loud, familiar crack – the sound of wood splitting. A tree fell on top of the lioness and goat heads, and they slumped forward, quiet as the grave. I looked over and saw Mac standing at the base of the fallen maple, his body facing away from us.

“Sisters!” said the snake. “Hold on!”

Oh. Right. They were sisters. That was easy to forget – and it made it harder to savagely hurt them, knowing they were a family. But, consarnit, they actually tore my Mom a new one! What was I supposed to do?

The viper wrapped her neck/body round the tree trunk and tried to move it, but it was a bit like trying to pull yourself up by your own bootstraps.

“Is everypony all right?” When Dad said everypony, I knew he meant everypony. Usually he'd say everyone in order to be inclusive.

As I walked round the wagon toward Dad, Mom crawled out from under the other cart, looking like something the cat dragged in. Her galoshes were all muddied and she still had blood coating her shoulder, and her mane and tail were more frazzled than Rarity pulling an all-nighter. But she was alive. Everypony was alive. I picked up my pace to a gallop and threw my forelegs round her neck.

Mom laid her front hoof on my back and gave me a weak smile. “Y'all broke your promise.”

“I know, Mom. But I also promised Apple Bloom she would see all of us again. And I couldn't keep both promises. I just figured the second promise was more important.”

Lifting a stiff foreleg, Mom ruffled my mane. “That's why your cutie mark is...” She pulled her hoof back and made a wobbly circle in the air. “...A loophole. Even though you promised you wouldn't use none.” Her eyes glazed over as she started to lose her balance.

Dad looked powerful concerned as he supported her with his shoulder. “Here, Spice, drink some more water.” He held a canteen to her lips. That was smart, since Mom had lost a lot of blood, and I got the sense that she needed to replenish her fluids.

While Mom drank, I got the iodine and cotton balls out of the first aid kit, and cleaned the three puncture wounds on her left shoulder. It wasn't long before the cotton snagged on something hard sticking out of Mom's hide. I gently felt it with my hoof and pulled it. Out came a claw as long as my muzzle. Mac whistled softly as I held it up.

“You hang on to that for me, sugar,” said Mom. “Show the folks back home.”

I set it aside careful-like. If nothing else, I could keep it as a reminder of what I'd changed – as if Mom and Dad and my cutie mark weren't enough reminders. Mom stood stoically as I finished cleaning her wounds and taped gauze over them.

“Ya done good, sugar cube. I reckon I feel right as rain.” Mom forced a smile. She did look cleaner, at least, but still pale and worn out. She pushed on the rear wagon, but only had enough strength to move it a few inches away from the trapped chimera. Quick as a whip, Mac galloped over to help her move it back so they could steer it round the eerie-looking obstacle. Then he put on the harness.

“What are you doing, hon?” Mom narrowed her eyes at him. “You ain't big enough to pull that cart through the Fire Swamp.”

“Eyup.”

“Eyup you are, or eyup you ain't?”

“Eyup.” Mac started to to walk forward, hauling the cart behind him.

Mom put her hoof to her forehead. “I got trapped in the 'eyup loop,' I swore I'd never let him do that to me,” she muttered.

“I think Mac is big enough,” said Dad. “Frankly I don't know if we would've made it out of this swamp alive if he and Jackie hadn't been here to help.”

Mac smiled bashfully at him, and I recalled that he would struggle with his sense of self-worth later in life, it he wasn't already.

I decided that I would have to do better to encourage him. “You got this, big brother,” I said with a wink.

He ducked his head and stared up at Mom.

“Aw, sugar, don't give me that look,” she said. “You were great today, a real hero.” She ruffled his mane. “But you're still just a colt. I should be taking care of you.”

“You have to take care of yourself first,” Dad pointed out. “You're in no condition to pull this wagon.”

“Come on now Arbor, I'm as healthy as...well, me!” She glanced at the snake head, who had given up trying to move the tree trunk, and had settled on glaring in our direction.

Remember how ponies used to live in wandering tribes in the grasslands and get chased by meat-eaters? Us Apples remember. We remember the times gone by when ponies had to hide their aches and pains so they didn't look like easy targets for a timberwolf or some-such.

Never show weakness. Cry on the inside.

But I've always been able to tell when other ponies are hurt or weak. Can sense it in trees and animals, too. It's my special earth sense. Most earth ponies have some sort of magical sense that tells them more about the world around them and helps them in their line of work. I suppose the other tribes do to, but I don't know as much about them. Earth ponies have many different special senses, but they tend to run in families. Mac and I have the same “health sense” for lack of a better word, but Mom and Apple Bloom can only sense damage in plant life, while Dad doesn't have any “health sense” at all, but can tell you the pH level of just about any substance, accurate within a tenth of a point.

Dad didn't need health sense to tell that Mom was feeling more poorly than she let on, though. Her skin looked pale through her green coat.

“You might be able to fool that viper over there, but you can't fool me, Spice.” Dad waved his hoof toward the first aid kit. “Applejack, is there any anti-inflammatory medicine in there?”

I rifled through the case and found the pill bottle double-quick.

“I reckon I could ride in the wagon until the meds kick in,” said Mom, as I pressed a pill and a turnover into her hooves. Dad waited next to her with the canteen at the ready.

“But at least wear my boots, Mac,” she said, kicking off the mud-coated galoshes. “Sorry about the sweat,” she added, scrunching her muzzle.

When he put on the boots, Mac didn't seem to mind the sweat, and they ended up fitting him pretty near perfect. Actually, Mom's boots seemed to put an extra spring in Mac's step. This didn't surprise me one bit.

I was mighty relieved that my folks had lasted this long, but there were still a couple of loose ends to tie up.

“What are we gonna do about the chimeras?” I asked.

Mom, Dad, and Mac stared at the two mix-and-match critters.

“We are going to have to go back through this swamp.” Dad rubbed his chin.

“I expect AJ could tie 'em up with her fancy rope tricks,” Mom said with a proud smile.

“I'm sure she could, but who is going to untie them?”

“Should we care?” I asked, sounding a touch more angry than I intended. “After what they did to y'all?”

Mom blinked in surprise. “AJ, I'm fine.”

“I can tell your wounds are starting to swell, and they would've torn you limb from limb if Mac and I hadn't been here! Dad said so!”

“I didn't say that exactly.” Dad rubbed one of his forelegs against the other.

Mom took a shaky breath. It was plain that the fight with the chimeras had rattled her more than she cared to admit.

“I reckon we oughtta wait and decide what to do with the chimeras after we all have time to cool off,” she said. “We're coming back this way anyway, right?”

“Eyup,” answered Mac.

“We could ask the Hayseed Swamp citizens what they want us to do with the chimeras,” suggested Dad. “After all, they have to live with these creatures practically in their backyard.”

“That's a fine idea Arbor,” said Mom.

I found my rope and hogtied both chimeras (not that I'd ever tie my own hogs like that, but sometimes wild hogs come in from the Everfree). If I bound them tighter than necessary, well, I suppose y'all can understand why.

Then I helped Mom climb into wagon, and I sat down beside her. Before Mac started pulling away, he hoofed me the curved black claw. I tucked it into my hair tie. It was a trophy showing not just what I'd changed, but what I'd overcome with my family.

We weren't out of the Fire Swamp yet. But I was just pleased as punch that my folks were still alive for me to fret over them.
> Best Kept Secret
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

All the way through the Fire Swamp, Dad took the lead, steering clear of the boiling puddles that threatened to blow at any moment. Mom was sitting next to me at the front of Mac's cart, her muscles so tense that I didn't need my special sense to tell that she was still in pain. But she was alive to feel pain, that was the important thing.

I gave her a reassuring smile. “Hang in there Mom. We'll get you to Hayseed Swamp in a tick. I'm sure they'll have ice to put on that wound.”

“Eyup,” agreed Mac.

Mom reached out her hoof and smoothed back my forelock. “Now don't you fret about me Miss Loophole.”

“Aw Mom,” I groaned and fought the urge to roll my eyes. “You don't really think my cutie mark is a loophole do you?”

“It's your mark. It's whatever you want it to be. If you wanna call it a yellow-bellied sapsucker, go right ahead.” She grinned playful-like, ignoring her pain. She's a trooper, my mom.

I snorted. “I suppose. I just wonder if I changed too much.” I spoke in a quieter voice, more thinking out loud as I gazed at the path ahead. But I had to change things, didn't I? That was my whole reason for coming back to this time. Yet a big part of me still felt uneasy about it.

All right, before I go any further, y'all should know that in the other timeline, after Mom and Dad's funeral, I spent the summer with my Aunt and Uncle Orange in Manehattan. They tried to turn me into a proper Manehattanite, to mold me into their daughter. And I went along with it on account of I wanted to please them. I was miserable as a yak in Ponyville, though nowhere near as bad-tempered. I didn't wanna bellyache about it, and I wasn't sure what to do till one day I stared out the window and saw a rainbow pointing toward home. So I hightailed it back to Sweet Apple Acres and earned a cutie mark with three apples. It wasn't till I was an adult that I found out that the rainbow came from a Sonic Rainboom that Rainbow Dash pulled off.

And it wasn't till a couple years later that Twilight Sparkle went to a slew of other alternate timelines where Equestria was in ruins, all because she and I and our closest friends didn't get our cutie marks in the perfect way. At least, that's what she told me. I don't pretend to understand how that works out, but when I looked in her eyes, I could tell that she had really seen those dark futures.

But this timeline has something that those other timelines don't have: a dependable pony that knows how to prepare for the dangers ahead.

“AJ? Something wrong?” Mom scrunched up her eyes, concern written plain on her face.

I shook my head. “Just thinking.”

All of a sudden, a geyser shot right up against the side of the cart. I jumped back towards Mom. Mac was startled too, galloping forward till he near ran into Dad's wagon.

“What is going on back there?” Dad turned his head to try to see over the carts.

I smelled wood smoke, and craned my neck to peer at the side of the cart. The painted wood had a smoldering patch almost as big as my head.

“Just our wagon is on fire is all,” I called.

“Eyup! Sorrythatwasmyfault!” blurted Mac, faster than I'd ever heard him talk.

“Well, put it out!” yelled Dad.

“I'm on it like a duck on a June bug!” Picking up a canteen, I poured water down the side of the cart, soaking the charred wood.

Mom slowly picked her way over the canteens and pies and took a gander at the outside of the wagon. “Looks like surface damage. I reckon she'll hold together.” She put her hoof on my back. “Good work AJ. You were saying before how you wondered if you changed too much. But you're just growing up. Your mark shows how you'll always be there for folks that need you, and do whatever you can to help. I'm so proud of you sugar cube.”

My eyes stung, and not just from the noxious fumes. “Oh Mom, it means so much for me to hear you say that.” Then I bit my lip as I thought about asking her something. It was so dang self-indulgent that I just about hated myself for it, and I expected I'd regret asking it out loud. And yet once I thought of it, I knew it would keep eating at me until I got it off my chest.

“What is it? I know there's something bothering you.” She searched my face with her amber eyes.

I took a deep breath. “I just can't help wondering if you'd feel more or less proud if my cutie mark was – well, more like yours.”

Mom glanced at the rainbow-colored fruit on her flank. “A Zap Apple?”

“Some kind of apple, anyway. Like everypony else in our family. I reckon part of me still wants to feel like I belong.” My ears lay flat.

Turning her head to stare at me again, Mom said, “Come on now, that's crazy talk! You're still part of this family even if you don't got an apple on your flank. After all, your dad doesn't have an apple mark either.”

“No, but at least it's a tree. That's only a couple steps away from an apple.”

“Don't you think that's a bit of a stretch?” Dad spoke up, swiveling his ears. “My mark is clearly an orange tree. They aren't even in the same family. But I still chose to be part of this family.”

My heart felt lighter as I smiled a little. “Well now, if y'all don't mind that my cutie mark ain't an apple, then I don't mind either.”

“Eyup,” said Mac with approval.

I can't say that the rest of the journey was a walk in the park, but we managed to make it to the Bayou Festival without taking any more hits. The festival wasn't exactly in full swing yet, but it sure was winding up. A good portion of the food and game stalls were set up, and foals galloped all over the place like it was Nightmare Night. They wouldn't have looked too out of place on Nightmare Night either, what with the way they were painted up. There was a body painting station that gave them brightly colored designs on their faces, torsos, and legs. Honest to Celestia, some of them looked like Rainbow when she had the Rainbow Power from the Tree of Harmony. I realize that y'all haven't seen that, so just imagine a pony with primary colored zigzags all over her body and you're on the right track. On top of it all, they wore hats made out of them long, bendy balloons.

The ponies gathered round our wagons as we pulled towards our reserved spot. Most of them were earth ponies, though I did see at least one pegasus.

“What happened to you Mrs. Apple?” asked a filly with flamingos brushed onto all four of her legs.

Mom looked self-consciously at her bandage, which had bled through. “A pair of chimeras attacked us.”

The ponies gasped.

“Go to bed! Two chimeras!” The small filly blinked and leaned forward. “They stuck you real good. Can I see?”

Dad stepped in front of her. “Actually we'd be grateful if you could tell us where to find a doctor.”

“There be a first aid tent down that end.” A teenage colt with green dreadlocks pointed west, where I could just see the edge of a white tent nestled behind the carnival games.

I grinned. “That's smarter than I gave y'all credit for.”

The colt didn't look all that amused.

“Applejack, now is not the time for your brutal honesty.” Dad shook his head at me.

I lowered my eyes to stare at the ground. “Sorry. It's a good idea is all I mean.”

“It's fine, cher,” said the colt.

Since it wasn't too far on hoof, I went with Mom to the medical tent while Dad and Mac stayed behind to set up our stand. As we walked away, I heard Dad start to explain what had happened in the Fire Swamp. The foals leaned forward, ears standing up straight to give him their undivided attention. I grinned at the sight before turning and heading for the tent.

The doctor came out to meet us. She was close to Granny Smith's age, and her cutie mark was a staff with a snake winding round it.

“Bon jour, I'm called Dr. Remedy. How're y'all doing?”

Now you may have noticed that the folks down in Hayseed Swamp talk in a unique mixture of Country and Fancy. And y'all know I don't speak Fancy. I reckon I've done pretty well with spelling so far, but Fancy words ain't in our family's dictionary, so I had to ask Dad how to spell some words. And now he's real curious about my journal. So I started a decoy journal and hid it under my mattress just in case Mom and Dad are determined to be nosy and read it. The other journal is just like this one with certain parts left out. This journal I've been taping to the underside of the chicken coup. I doubt anypony will search there. I'll probably switch the hiding place every so often.

But back to my story. Dr. Remedy smiled in our general direction, but she didn't seem to look directly at us, and she was wearing sunglasses. I focused my special sense on her. She had the usual stiff joints of age, and high blood pressure, and then finally I found that her eyes had been badly burnt some time ago, so she couldn't see at all.

The old doctor cackled quiet-like, which sounded as weird as you'd expect. “Child, leave the examination to me.”

I shifted my weight. “Be pardon ma'am – uh, doctor, but how did you know that's what I was doing?”

“I met beaucoup pones and all of 'em notice I'm blind. No worries, all my other senses are more better, 'specially the magical type. And I sense that your mama got a punctured shoulder from either a chimera or manticore.”

Mom raised her eyebrows. “Right the first time.”

As Dr. Remedy beckoned us into the tent, I told her, “Doc, I hope you don't mind me saying so, but you're a heap more capable than that little blind pegasus filly in that old legend.”

“I hope so!” she said brightly.

The older mare changed Mom's bandages and gave her an antibiotic, telling her to take a dose every day till it was gone. She also instructed her how to keep the wounds clean.

“Puncture wanna close up 'fore the inside heals, so you best make sure it stay open for a few days, else bacteria be trapped and fester inside.”

Mom nodded. Then she seemed to realize that Dr. Remedy couldn't see her. “Yes ma'am.”

“So tell me,” said the older mare as she tied an ice pack to Mom's shoulder. “What happened to the chimera?”

“Actually there were two of 'em, if you can believe it. The one that stuck me had a tree fall on her, thanks to my son.”

“Don't forget that shiner you gave the goat head.” I beamed up at Mom. “I'm sure she won't forget it any time soon.”

Mom grinned. “Like saying goes, you should see the other gal. She also lost one of her claws when it got stuck in my hide. Show her, AJ.”

I couldn't show her in the usual way, of course, so I took the claw out of my hair tie and pressed it against Dr. Remedy's foreleg.

Her eyebrows shot up towards her hairline. “Celestia have mercy! That be more bigger than I thought. Hang onto that, child, maybe it'll bring you luck.”

“I make my own luck,” I said.

Mom gave me a pat on the back. “Atta girl.”

“Hm, still...” Dr. Remedy strolled over to a corner and fumbled through a bag till she pulled out a length of cord, probably left over from pitching the tent. Using her hooves and teeth, she tied the cord round the claw and knotted the ends together to make a crude necklace.

I grinned as she placed it over my head. “Why, this is just my style! Which ain't much, I'll have you know.”

Dr. Remedy nodded. “It don't have to be pretty. It be a warning for everypony not to buck wi' you.”

“Darn tootin'!” said Mom. “So Dr. Remedy, how much do I owe you?”

“I'm retired, cher.” The older mare waved her foreleg. “I do this for free as a way to give back, help the folk here to have a good, safe time.”

Mom frowned. “But that sounds like charity.”

“Mais oui. What's your point?”

“I can't accept charity! I can afford to pay for a doctor visit and some medicine.”

I recognized the forward set of her jaw and the glint in her eyes. I'd seen the same expression in the mirror. If her coat and eye colors were reversed, she'd look just like me.

As if she knew that Mom was fixing to give the antibiotics back to her, Dr. Remedy said, “If you really wanna pay me, you can bring me one of your apple pies.”

“How...”

“Y'all smell like apple pie,” answered Dr. Remedy before Mom got out her question.

Mom rubbed her front hoof against her neck. “Well now, I suppose if we throw in a turnover and a few fritters, we'll call it a fair deal.”

“That'll be just fine darling.”

The rest of the festival went ok. We sold more pies and other baked goods than I'd usually sell whenever I went alone, but we still had some leftover product at the end of the day.

Mom and Dad thought it was powerful strange that I didn't want to go get my body painted or play any of the carnival games. Mac headed straight for that game where you hit the circle on the bottom and try to ring the bell at the top, but I stayed by my parents' side the whole time. Well, except for bathroom breaks.

“Don't you wanna look for one of them games where you throw a ball at bottles or somesuch?” Mom made a throwing motion with her foreleg. “I bet you could win a plush toy for Apple Bloom.”

“Tempting as that sounds, I don't think that's a good idea. What if something happened to y'all while I was away? I can't lose you a- I can't lose you.”

“Jackie, I know what happened today was very frightening.” Dad put his foreleg round my shoulders. “But you can't worry about our lives being in constant peril. The chances of something like that happening again soon are very slim. Besides, there aren't even any geysers or chimeras in Hayseed Swamp.”

“Excuse moi, but that ain't so,” said a stallion whose forelegs had more scars than Fluttershy had pets. One of his ear tips had been torn off awhile ago. “I run the chimera prison here in Hayseed Swamp, toward the highland.”

Dad stared at him. “You've got to be joking.”

I had to agree that this sounded unbelievable, even though his scars were powerful evidence that the stallion had spent a lot of time with the predators.

“I never heard of no chimera prison,” I said.

“It's true, I swear on my mama's life.” The stallion held his hoof to his chest. “Any chimera that hurt or kill a pony, princess forbid, if they catched alive, they be brung to my compound. I got a hundred acres for chimeras to run round in, and there a wall wi' razor on top to keep 'em from getting out. I feed 'em fresh fish every day and make sure they get clean water. They don't like fish as much as, well, red meat, but I think some of 'em be used to it.”

Dad raised his eyebrow. “Does Princess Celestia know about this?”

“Dunno.” The stallion shrugged. “I don't 'xactly try to let pones know outside the swamp. If I ever get some kinda cease and desist order or something, then of course I'll abide by it.”

Dad glanced at Mom. “Well, Spice, now we know what to do with those chimeras.”

Mom nodded. “We got two live ones tied up next to the path through the Fire Swamp, Mr...”

“Trapper,” said the scarred stallion.

“Mr. Trapper. We can show you on the map where to find 'em.”

“I'll take it a step further. When y'all go back through the Fire Swamp, me and mes amis will go wi' you, and y'all can lead us to 'em yourselves.” He waved toward a ragtag group of ponies standing behind him, who all nodded.

“Ok, whatever floats your boat,” said Mom with a shrug.

Big Mac came back to our wagons with an inflatable alligator and a bag of fresh-pulled taffy, both of which Pinkie Pie would've appreciated. He gave me a piece of Neighapolitan. I tell you what, you haven't really eaten taffy unless you've tasted it fresh from the pulling machine.

Though the Sweet Apple Acres carts were among the last food carts to arrive, we had to be the first to leave. When Celestia started lowering the sun, we knew we had to get the hay outta Dodge, so we wouldn't have to trot through the Fire Swamp after dark.

True to his word, Trapper brought seven of his friends to escort us through the Fire Swamp. He also had a small cannon mounted on his whither. When I asked him about it, he explained that it was loaded with a tranquilizer dart, and could be fired by squeezing a trigger with just the edge of his hoof.

“That's pretty ingenious.” I thought for a moment, glancing at a paper wasp nest as we passed it by. “I don't suppose it works on bugbears?”

He frowned. “Well now, it ain't formulated for bugbear. You need a much higher concentration, but too much and you make it sleep forever. And bugbears be so rare I never thought to work out the dosage.”

“That's all right. Just a thought I had. Hopefully I won't have to face a bugbear for many moons.”

Mom cringed. “I hope you never do!”

“But if you do, I'm certain that you could lasso it into submission,” Dad said with a confidence that made my cheeks flush.

“Aw shucks Dad, that's mighty kind of you to say, but have you ever seen a bugbear? I mean a real one?”

He flicked his long tail and glanced over his shoulder at me. “No. Have you?”

“N-no. I mean, not exactly...” I swear I felt the blood drain from my face as I reached near Fluttershy levels of stammering. I hated lying to Dad. “Not in this lifetime, that is.”

Dad seemed real suspicious as he frowned at me. “That's a weird way of putting it.”

“Applejack, are you saying you have seen a bugbear?” Mom furrowed her brow.

“Uh – hey, shouldn't we ought to have reached the chimeras by now?”

Mom's eyes narrowed to slits. “Don't you try to change the subject Miss Loophole.”

“No – I mean, I am trying to change the subject, but I also really think we should've reached the chimeras! Ain't that the tree Mac knocked down?” I pointed at the maple lying across the path.

“You're right,” said Dad. “Those chimeras should be nearby.”

“Eyup,” agreed Mac.

All of us ponies spread out to search the area. Mom even gave me permission to hop out of the wagon. I walked over to the downed tree and quickly spotted a severed piece of rope hanging from one of the branches.

“Consarnit! They got loose.” I lifted the end of the rope with my hoof.

Trapper trotted up next to me and studied the rope. “Goat head chew through this.”

“I'm sorry y'all.” I sighed. “I thought I tied all their mouths and paws real tight, but clearly I didn't do a good job.”

I turned my head to look all around in case the chimeras wanted to start something again. There weren't no yellow eyes glinting through the haze, nor any growls or hisses. I probed with my health sense, but all I picked up was Mom's punctures and Trapper's scar tissue.

“They're long gone now,” I said. “I feel bad that all y'all came out here for nothing.”

“Don't be like that, darling,” said Trapper. “Them chimeras left us a good trail to follow. We'll catch 'em sooner or later.” Lifting his head, he said to his ponies, “All right mes amis, we gonna split up. You two go with the apple ponies and make sure they get to the meadow safe-like.” He pointed to two of the Hayseed Swamp ponies. “The rest of y'all are with me. We best find 'em chimeras 'fore sundown. Allon!”

“Thank you kindly,” said Mom, “but are you two sure you wanna come with us?”

“Mais oui cher,” said a mare with a slingshot strapped to her side. “We'll come along just in case the chimeras or any other deadly critters went that way.”

“Well all right then.” Mom considered the leftover pies and fritters before glancing at Dad.

Dad seemed to pick up on her silent hint. “Take some pies and turnovers with you. I think we have a few fritters left too.”

The swamp ponies weren't too proud to accept the pastries – or at least this crew wasn't. Before hitting the trail, they loaded up their saddlebags with apple treats.

The rest of the return trip was uneventful. Let me tell you, any uneventful trip through the Everfree is a great trip.

By the time we reached the border between the Everfree and Sweet Apple Acres, Princess Celestia had lowered the sun, and the orchard was lit with a gentle peach afterglow. Up on a hill in the distance I glimpsed the lights from the house windows shining through the trees.

“Mom, Dad, you see the farmhouse lights?” I said. “That there is your bright new future.”

“New future?” Twitching his ears, Dad glanced over his shoulder at me. “We're just going home.”

Right. They were just going home. A moment I'd wished to see for most of my life.

“But y'all almost didn't make it home.” I hammered the point in. “But now you get to spend years and years together in that house, or at least a similar one if that one ever gets destroyed in some freak accident.”

“Jackie what are you talking about?” Dad shook his head at me. “It's our barn that always gets demolished. What makes you think something is going to happen to our house?”

“It's Ponyville,” I said flatly. “It's a wonder it's lasted this long.”

Dad opened his mouth, then hesitated, frowning. “You know, that's actually a good point.”

“Don't you know?” said Mom. “My ma and my grandparents did a protective ritual to ward off natural disasters back when they first laid the foundations.”

“Really? I never knew that.” I stared at the window lights, thinking. “Only natural disasters? Granny might wanna update that ritual. You know, just in case.”

Dad raised his eyebrows. “Wait, if they performed a protective ritual, why didn't they do that to the barn?”

“'Cause then we'd have nothing to do for family reunions,” answered Mom.

Dad had to stop for a few seconds to digest that little nugget.

When we stepped into the house, Granny Smith was cooking dinner on the stove top, while Apple Bloom sat up in her playpen.

As soon as she saw us, Granny said, “Land sakes! Y'all look like you been put through the wringer.”

“Eyup.” Mac nodded.

Granny walked over to Mom and gently prodded the ice pack that the doctor had secured to her shoulder. It squished against her hoof.

“I'll get some more ice for that and you can tell me all about it Spice,” she said kindly.

“Thanks Ma.”

Granny moseyed past me, barely glancing at me as she said, “Applejack, you got something stuck to your...” She stopped and turned her head to look full at me. Then she blinked, and her eyes and mouth opened wide. “Shut my mouth! That's your cutie mark! Well congratulations honey! Let me get a good look at it.” She squinted. “A lasso, huh? That ain't too surprising, what with your fancy rope tricks. Oh, but listen to me gabbing when I should be getting the ice like I said I would.” She shook her head.

“It's all right Ma. I don't blame you for getting excited.” Mom walked over to the playpen and gazed down, her freckled cheeks lifting in a smile. “Hey there sweet pea! Were you a good filly for your granny?”

Apple Bloom peered up and, slowly, her face blossomed into innocent joy. Wiggling her forelegs, she reached upwards.

“Mama!”

Mom lowered her hoof towards AB, but Dad sidled over and scooped her up in his foreleg before Mom could touch her.

“How's my little bundle of joy?” he asked, tickling her chin. Apple Bloom laughed in reply, curling in on herself.

Tears pricked my eyes, and I fought down a lump in my throat.

“AJ?” Mac gaped at me, his gentle green eyes wide open. “Are you crying on the outside?”

“No. It's liquid pride.”

I felt kinda bad for stealing that line from Twilight's brother. 'Course, for all I know, he may have already come up with it. I just didn't hear him say it till years later.

But pride is what I felt. Reuniting a little foal with her parents? That, my friends, is what it's all about. That's the reason I left my timeline to come to this one. No matter what happens from here on out, it'll all have been worth it for this moment alone.

No matter what happens, you hear?
> Seeds of the Past
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

After all the excitement and life-threatening danger, it was nice to spend a normal week at school. Then, on the first day of summer vacation, I had my cuteseanera. It was a simple get-together in our orchard. We invited all my classmates and their families, and most of our kin from all over Equestria wanted to come and take a gander at my new cutie mark too. I was amazed at how young everyone looked compared to when I last saw them. Braeburn was no taller than I am now, but he did have his apple cutie mark. Young Cheerilee showed up, too, and passed most of the afternoon playing horseshoes with Mac. Granny Smith and some of my aunts made hayburgers, grilled carrots, macaroni and cheese, and apple fritters (they were obligated to make one food with apple in it, else everyone would've asked why we didn't have any).

Just about everyone was clambering to see Apple Bloom and play with her. She was on her best behavior, smiling at everyone without a fuss. And when Rarity arrived with her family, little Sweetie Belle babbled to AB in her baby talk. Sweetie's a couple months younger than Bloom, and it was like they understood each other even though no one else did. They were cuter than breezies, I don't care what anyone says.

While I gazed at the foals, Dad sat down on the soft grass beside me, sipping a cup of fresh cider. “I hope you don't mind your sister getting so much attention. You have to remember that several of your aunts and uncles haven't seen her since she was born.”

“What?” I tore my eyes away from watching Apple Bloom feed Sweetie Belle an apple fritter, and I stared up at my dad. “Oh, that's ok. If it wasn't for her, they wouldn't've come here.”

“You know that's not true, Jackie. Even if they've only seen Apple Bloom once, they've never seen your mark before.”

“I suppose you got a point.” It was true, though, what I said about Bloom. See, I never had a proper cuteseanera before. I'd gotten my other cutie mark later in the year, when the apple blight was super aggressive, and without Mom and Dad to help, we were much too busy to bother with something as trivial as a cutie-mark-getting shindig. But thanks to Apple Bloom I had all the time I needed.

“Oh, look at our little sisters,” said Rarity, strolling over and sitting on my other side. “I can't decide if they're adorable or disgusting.”

AB took a piece of pastry out of Sweetie's mouth and stuck it in her own mouth. Sweetie whined and held her hoof toward the deep fried dough.

“Aww,” chorused the aunties and uncles watching them. Sweetie's mother offered her a piece of macaroni.

“No!” said Sweetie, turning her head to one side and pushing away the floating pasta.

“Obviously they're adorable.” Dad waved his orange foreleg. “And anyway, this is nothing compared to the time Bloom shared her cornbread with one of the pigs.”

Rarity's pupils shrank. “She ate cornbread after a pig ate from it?”

“Eyup, that happened,” I said, smiling at the memory.

“And that doesn't concern you at all?” Rarity's lips hardly moved out of their grimace as she spoke.

“There was a time when I would have been concerned about my foal ingesting pig saliva, but I've learned since then that foals have strong immune systems, and they grow even stronger when their defenses are exposed to a variety of bacteria,” answered Dad.

Rarity's eyes swelled as she put on a strained smile. “I'm just going to pretend I didn't hear any of that because it's Applejack's special day. Anyway, darling, I have a present for you.” She floated up a small, thin box with her tinkling blue magic.

“Aw, you didn't have to give me nothing. Granny Smith says a cutie mark is its own reward.”

Her awkward smile relaxed into genuine happiness. “That may be true, but presents are a nice perk too, don't you think? Besides, I wanted to give you this. Go on, open it!”

I tugged off the ribbon and lifted the lid. Inside the box was a gold rope chain.

“I didn't have enough bits to by a real gold necklace, but I hope you like it anyway. At least it's better than that cord, and it goes well with your hair. And I put a bit of gold-tone wire in the box so you can attach your chimera claw to the necklace.” She tapped her hooves together. “What do you think?”

“I love it. Thanks a hole heap, sugar cube, it was mighty thoughtful of you,” I said with a grin.

Then I sensed Mom's presence – especially the scar tissue forming on her chest – before I turned my head and saw her walking toward us.

“That sure is a spiffy necklace, AJ,” said Mom. “Put it on so's we can see how it looks on you.”

I slipped the cord over my head and untied it. This is where my “contact telekinesis” came in useful, because the ends of the cord fell away just how I wanted. I barely had to move my hooves. Bending the wire as a touch harder, though, so Rarity helped me wrap it round the claw and chain.

“You know what this means.” Mom pointed at me. “You'll have to get Rarity something good for her cuteseanera.”

Rarity laughed. “Oh Mrs. Apple, you are a card.”

“Oh no, she wasn't kidding,” said Dad, draining the last of his cider.

“Really? Well, Applejack, you shouldn't have to give me a gift just because I gave you one. I gave it to you because I wanted to make you happy. Besides, all I really care about is earning my cutie mark before we have to go back to school. I just couldn't start the fourth grade still a blank flank. It would be so humiliating!” She lifted the necklace with her magic and fastened it round my neck. “Voila! It looks even better than I imagined. Rugged, yet glamorous!”

“I'll take your word for it,” I said with an amused smile.

“Hey Applejack!” Braeburn waved at me and broke into a gallop, almost tripping Cousin Goldie Delicious on his way toward me. He leaped over Rarity and me and spun round to face us.

Mom narrowed her eyes. “Braeburn, watch where you're galloping.”

“Beg pardon Auntie.” Braeburn flattened his ears for a second. “Anyhow, there's a boatload of faces here that I ain't never seen before. Aren't you gonna introduce everypony, Applejack?”

I raised my eyebrows. “That'd take almost an hour and nopony would remember all the names.”

His expression grew thoughtful as he turned his head to look round the orchard. “I suppose you got a point. But at least you could introduce me to your friend here,” he said, gesturing toward Rarity.

“Fine, I reckon I can do that much. Braeburn, this is Rarity, my friend from school. Rarity, this is my cousin Braeburn from Appleloosa.”

Braeburn tilted his head. “Apple-what-now?”

I cringed. How could I have been so dad-gum careless? Appleloosa wouldn't even exist for seven years.

“What in the world are you talking about, Jackie?” Dad stared down at me with his brow all wrinkled. “I've never even heard of Appleloosa. I have heard of an Appaloosa, a pony with a rare spotted coat, but that's not a location.”

“Yeah, why'd you tell Rarity I was from a spotted pony?” asked Braeburn.

My face and neck felt sweaty. “Well, you were born in a place named after a coat pattern, weren't you? I must've gotten them mixed up.”

He nodded. “I was born in the San Palomino Desert, but I haven't lived there since I was a little foal. You'd think you'd remember that, seeing as how you're a palomino.”

I let out a nervous little chuckle. “Eyep, you'd think so. Oh would you look at that, Apple Bloom got crumbs all over her face and mane. I'd better hustle over there and clean her up.”

I stood, only to feel Dad's long tail wrap round my leg, holding me fast. “That was the clumsiest, most obvious pivot I've ever heard.”

“Uh, I'm sorry? AB really is messy though.” I pointed at my sister, who was letting Sweetie Belle chew on her front hoof. Sweetie let out muffled giggles while Bloom squealed with joy.

“In that case, you can help your mom and me take Bloom inside and clean her off.” Dad gave Mom a significant glance.

“Oh. Right.” I could tell that Mom smelled what Dad was stepping in, so to speak. “You carry her inside, AJ, and we'll come with you.”

Speaking of stepping in it, I was up a manure creek without a paddle. Even if I came up with another distraction, I'd only be putting off the unavoidable.

Rarity had always been great at picking up on social cues, even as a little filly, and I knew that she realized that my mom and dad wanted to chat with me alone.

She cleared her throat. “You go ahead, Applejack.” She turned her head to give Braeburn her attention. “So, Braeburn, you said you're from the San Palomino desert? What's it like there?”

Dad moved his tail from my leg to the back of my neck. “Come on, Jackie.”

I walked with my parents toward Apple Bloom, wondering what I should say. There were a few reasons why I didn't wanna tell anyone that I was from the future, and most of them were selfish, I'm afraid. First, I wanted to try to live my life without anyone treating me different, like I didn't belong – a mare at the right place at the wrong time. If my folks found out I was a grown mare in a little filly's body...I had no idea how they'd take it, if they'd even believe me. But I couldn't imagine them taking it too well. Would Dad still give me rides on his back? Would he and Mom want me to move out and find my own place? OK, that one wasn't too likely. They'd understand how hard it would be for me to get a new job to support myself when I looked and sounded eight years old.

Still, they might start asking me all sorts of questions about the future, and they were sure to be disappointed when I explained that I only know what might happen, not what will happen.

And what would Rarity think of me if she knew I was from more than fifteen years into the future? Usually I'm not one to care what others think of me. But what if Rarity was so weirded out that she didn't want to be my friend?

In my original timeline, Rarity and I got along well when we were real little. I would invite her over to my ramshackle tree house where we'd play make-believe, which often involved Rarity trying to act out her favorite mystery stories and me messing up what was “supposed” to happen.

Then, when we were eight, Rarity designed costumes for the foals' summer play. I promised her that I would watch the musical, but then I lost my parents, and well, you remember how I mentioned I went to Manehattan afterwards? I didn't make it back in time for the play. Didn't even write her to say there'd been a change of plans. After I came home, she gave me the silent treatment, and I was so thick-skulled, I didn't understand why for the longest time. I asked her, of course, but that got me nowhere. Eventually I stopped trying to patch things up between us. It wasn't till Twilight Sparkle moved to town that Rarity and I reconnected, and then it was touch and go for a while.

I won't let anything like that happen again, now that I know we were meant to be the best of friends.

I wasn't worried about having to lie no more. I was just worried about coming up with any reasonable explanation for why I said that my cousin was from a pun-named city that didn't exist.

Also, I was a mite bothered that I wasn't worried about lying.

Anyhow, I scooped up AB and set her on my back, making sure she was balanced.

“I hope you don't mind us stealing Bloom away from you,” Dad said to the aunts and uncles (and Sweetie Belle). “We'll bring her back soon.” He rested his big hoof on Bloom's back. “Say bye-bye, Bloom.”

“Bye-bye,” she said, waving.

Sweetie waved back with both forelegs.

“Aww,” said the aunts and uncles.

Dad waited till we'd walked out of the guests' earshot before saying, “Jackie, your mom and I can't help but notice that you've been behaving oddly ever since you earned your cutie mark.”

If he'd been paying closer attention, he'd've noticed that I actually started “behaving oddly” the day before I got my mark, but it made sense that he'd connect the cutie mark to the change. And if Mom and Dad pinned the change on that, they'd be less likely to dig any deeper, so that worked out better for me.

“You keep saying these off-the-wall things and dodging followup questions,” added Mom.

“First you mentioned a bugbear out of nowhere,” said Dad.

“And the other day you asked your granny where Winona was, whoever that is.”

“And you keep setting the wrong number of places at the table and getting flustered about it.”

“And now you tell Rarity that Braeburn is from someplace named after a spotted pony,” finished Mom, staring down at me with her eyebrows angled upward. “So what's the matter? A cutie mark don't change you. Not like this. There's gotta be some other reason.”

I glanced away from her and stared at the house off in the distance. “I've just been a tad forgetful lately, that's all. Nothing to worry about.”

“But why have you been forgetful, and what's got you so rattled?” Dad swished his chestnut tail. “Did you hit your head during the chimera attack?”

It was amazing – Dad was offering me a believable lie on a silver platter.

“Well, I didn't want to say nothing on account of everyone was fretting over Mom, but since you asked, I did hit my head on the ground when that chimera pinned me.”

Mom put her front hoof on my shoulder, stopping us both in our tracks. “Oh sugar cube! You should've said something!” She gently hugged my head to her chest.

Apple Bloom started petting the back of my head the way she did with our hogs. “Issokay Appujack.”

“I didn't want y'all to worry,” I said, shifting my weight.

“We're parents.” Mom held me at foreleg's length and searched my face. “We can't help fretting. And you got no more control than we do over how much we fret.”

“Well, at least we finally got to the root of the problem,” said Dad. “Tomorrow we'll schedule a doctor's appointment. He should be able to give a prognosis and treatments to help you, Jackie.”

I fought the urge to smack myself in the forehead. It had seemed like the perfect lie, but nope. The doctor was sure to realize that I had no signs of recent head trauma, and then what?

They'd know I'd lied, that's what.

Mom took her hooves from my shoulders and stood. “Doctor's office is closed tomorrow, Arbor,” she reminded him. “We'll have to wait till Monday.”

The sun felt mighty hot and bright all of a sudden, like I was an ant under a magnifying glass. Not that I would ever do that to an ant, mind. But you hear stories.

“Uh,” I wiped my forehead. “I don't know if I hit my head that hard.”

“Now, now.” Dad put his hoof on my foreleg. “We'll just see what the doctor says about that.”

“Really, Dad, I couldn't even feel it.” My voice grew quieter. All I wanted was to talk my way out of going to the doctor, but knew in my heart how useless it was to try. I gazed up at the sky and spotted birds flying, making high-pitched, sorta whiny peeps.

“Maybe there's another reason my memories are all mixed up.” I could hardly hear my own voice over the birds' calls.

Apple Bloom started chewing on my ear at that moment, which didn't help me at all.

“It's possible.” Dad stroked his chin, as though he had an imaginary beard. He always wanted to grow whiskers but Mom didn't like anything beyond sideburns.

“There are many different causes of memory problems, which is all the more reason to have a medical professional examine you,” he added.

Mom smoothed down my forelock. “It's gonna be all right, hon. Let's try to put it out of our minds for now and enjoy the party.”

We reached the house then, and Dad opened the kitchen door. I stepped in after him, my thoughts spinning like a twister.

Dad's words got me thinking as I watched Mom wipe Bloom's face, forelock, and hooves with a soapy washcloth. There were all kinds of causes of memory problems and brain fog and suchlike. Maybe the answer I needed was in a book. The library was sure to have books about magic or plants or creatures or other things that can change memories. Shucks, magic has effected my memory before. One time Twilight accidentally mixed up my cutie mark and my other friends' marks, and it gave me false memories of choosing to become a tailor of all things. The false memories covered up my real memories of going to Manehattan and returning home to be with my family, and most everything that happened after that.

That's a once-in-a-lifetime doozy of an example, but maybe I could find something else that could cause the changes other ponies saw in me. It had to be something that was hard to test for in a blood or urine sample. Something that even a doctor might not know much about.

The real filly me wouldn't have thought things through this carefully. She would've panicked and blurted something even dumber than the things she'd already said. Shoot, I ain't even sure if twenty-year-old me was as much of a planner as mid-twenties me. But when you start spending time with Twilight Sparkle, you start to see that research can be a useful tool to have in your belt, as long as you don't spend so much time on it that you don't get anything done.

So, I had a plan, though it was a sketchy one. I'd just have to wait till the next day to go to the library. Or maybe Monday, if it was closed on Sunday. No one would look at me funny if I visited the library, right? I could always say I was fixing to check out a Western or a field guide.

Mom brushed out the crumbs that had fallen into my mane while Dad changed AB's diaper, and then he set her onto my back, and we were all ready to return to the celebration.

As we walked up to the section of the orchard where the ponies were gathered, we heard music.

Mom frowned. “I hope they didn't start a square dance without me.”

It wasn't a square dance. Rarity, Cheerilee, and Mac were singing a song that I had never heard before. Sweetie Belle sat next to her big sister, beaming up at her and stomping her tiny hooves in time to the music. For such a young foal, she had decent rhythm.

In the Culinary Castle,
There's always room for more,
And the bales of hay and sunflowers
Come dancing through the door...

Mom froze. Her orange eyes grew huge as a smile slowly stretched across her face, as if someone had just given her the best Hearths Warming Eve present ever.

“Well I'll be!” Her voice was quiet, but I got the feeling that she really wanted to shout. “That is so precious, I could die!”

I gave her a sharp look at her choice of words, but she paid me no mind, staring at Mac as though he'd ascended to alicornhood. Had she never heard him sing before? I thought for a moment and realized I couldn't remember hearing him sing until some time after we'd lost our parents.

“Mama,” said Apple Bloom, leaning toward her. My little sister had a small vocabulary, but her message was clear. “I'm the cute one, remember?” That's what she was saying.

“What?” asked Mom, not glancing at her.

“Mama. Wook,” said AB. I'm pretty sure she meant, “Look at me.”

“Uh-huh.” Mom's eyes were still fixed on Mac.

“Let Mac be the center of attention for a change, Bloom.” I reached back and put my hoof on her foreleg.

She shook her head. “No.”

Dad stepped toward the trio of singing youngsters, but Mom put her hoof on his withers to hold him back.

“Wait! He's like a wild rabbit,” she hissed. “You'll spook him if'n you get too close.”

So we stood there and waited for Mac, Rarity, and Cheerilee to finish their song. Bloom was a lot less patient than the rest of us, as you've probably guessed. She squirmed and commenced sliding over my side. I crouched down low so that she had only a short distance to tumble onto the grass. Then she toddled toward Mom.

...You can find any kind of food you please in the Culinary Castle!

Cheerilee reared up on her hind legs and posed on the final note. Mac held his note just a split second longer than the fillies, which caused his face to turn pink. Don't ask me how that works on a red-coated pony because I have no idea. As for Rarity, she just stood there putting on a show of modesty, slowly fluttering her eyelashes to soften her look. The other party-goers stomped their hooves in applause.

Dad glanced at Mom. “Is now a good time to go over to him?”

Mom nodded, and they both trotted toward Mac, weaving between the ponies who were grouped around him. My brother started to slink away as they came near.

I glanced down toward my sister and saw a clump of tall grass that hadn't been there a minute earlier. It was a deeper shade of green than the blades around it, with a red bow sticking out the top.

“Apple Bloom?” I brushed the grass aside and stared at her. She had all four hooves planted firmly at the grass roots.

“Did you use life pulse? I didn't know you could do it this young!” I gave her a gentle hug. “I'm so proud of you sugar cube.”

“Where Mama?” she asked, unaware that she'd used her earth pony energy in a way that most foals several times her age had a hard time doing.

“Did I hear that right, Applejack?” asked Cousin Apple Rose, strolling closer to us. “Did you say Apple Bloom used life pulse?”

I waved my hoof toward the tall grass, beaming. “She sure did! She grew this patch all by herself in a minute!”

“Aw, she's such a big girl!” squealed Auntie Apple Dumpling, her voice pitching up so high that I reckon only bats could hear parts of it.

“It's no surprise to me,” said Uncle Apple Seed, trotting over to us with a grin. “She's an Apple, ain't she?”

“To the core.” I rubbed AB's head before leaving her in the company of the aunties and uncles and elderly third cousins.

Then I moseyed over to check on Mac, and caught the middle of Granny Smith reassuring him.

“You got nothing to be embarrassed about, Mac,” she said, her eyes twinkling up at him. “That song was a toe-tapper!”

“It's an ear-worm too,” said Dad. “It'll likely be stuck in my head for days. Where did you hear it?”

As you can imagine, Mac was none too eager to answer, so Rarity spoke up first.

“It's from the first annual foals' summer musical!” She shook her head back and forth a bit as she talked, the way she does whenever she gets all excited.

“First annual? I like that confidence,” said Dad with a grin.

“That's what Ms. Play Write called it,” said Cheerilee, who was a few inches taller than me, and gangly with youth. “She's the producer and director. And the writer, I think.”

“What with her name and cutie mark I would hope she wrote it,” said Granny, letting out a soft laugh.

“Why didn't you children tell us about this play?” asked Mom, swinging her head from Mac to me.

“I dunno.” I shrugged. “I wasn't planning on being in the play, and I didn't think Mac was either.”

“I think both of you should try out.” Rarity waved her foreleg vaguely at us. “If Mac has a good singing voice, you probably do too.”

“I can carry a tune, but I don't got the best range compared to some fillies.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “And I can't act worth beans.”

“Eyup,” agreed Mac.

“Well, why don't you give it a try, Applejack?” Rarity leaned closer to me. “You may be better than you think.”

“I think Mac should try out. I'll bet the musical could use his voice. But if I were to help, I'd rather make props or backdrops,” I said, scratching my chin.

“Why not both?” asked Dad. “Audition for a part and plan on helping with the scenery whether or not you land a role.”

“I'll think about it,” I said. But I only said that so Dad would drop it. I was pretty sure I didn't have the acting chops to nail the audition, and even if I did, I didn't want to risk stealing the role from some other filly. Then I realized Mac might also take a part from a filly who would have otherwise been in the play...But nah, Mac deserved this. He loved performing and roleplaying, he just didn't know it yet. Besides, the play was apt to be better with a tenor.

Heavens to Betsy, I was getting scary-good at justifying my preferences. Best move along.

“What about you Rarity? What do you wanna do for the play?” I already knew the answer, but I hoped that if I got her to talk about it, she'd figure out what her special talent was.

“I'm designing the costumes! I loved making my own costume for Nightmare Night, so this will be like that times...” she looked up at the sky as she thought. “Five! That's how many parts there are.”

“That's right, you were a detective for Nightmare Night,” said Cheerilee.

“Shadow Spade.” The breeze picked up then and blew her mane across half her face, which made her seem mysterious.

“That's the one. But do you think you can make ponies look like food?” Cheerilee held up a hayburger to emphasize her point.

Rarity pulled her mane away from her eyes. “I don't know, but I shall try my best.”

“You can do it Rarity.” I swung my foreleg in my best give-it-the-old-Filly-Scout-try gesture. “Can't wait to see 'em.”

Suddenly Mom glanced round. “AJ, did you lose track of your sister?”

“She's somewhere that-a-way.” I waved my foreleg at the herd of older relations several yards away.

Mom frowned. “'Somewhere that-a-way' ain't good enough.” She sighed. “My fault really. I should've kept a closer eye on her.”

“Don't worry, Spice. I'll go and pinpoint her location.” Dad started trotting in the direction I pointed.

A smile worked its way across my face as I wondered how long it would take him to find out that Bloom had used life pulse. I cantered after him. This would be fun.