See track . . .
‘You came,’ said Applejack, grinning as Rainbow hugged her. There was a pause, during which Applejack held her breath. Then she broke away.
‘Of course I came,’ said Rainbow, beaming. ‘You didn’t think I would?’
‘Honestly? I wasn’t sure.’
The time they’d spent apart was visible on Rainbow’s face. Harsh lines split her brow and there were dark bags under her eyes.
‘You look terrible,’ said Applejack, but she meant it as a compliment – an acknowledgement of the struggles and hardships that had quite literally made their mark. Rainbow smiled.
‘You don’t look great either.’
‘Yeah. Well. It is how it is. How’s the flying?’
Rainbow shrugged.
‘Training’s been OK – plenty cadets graduating – yeah, fine.’
‘Good.’
‘Yeah.’
They stood in silence. Then Applejack asked a question she’d been afraid to ask for nearly five years.
‘How’re the other four? You kept in touch?’
Rainbow’s face fell.
‘Twilight’s fallen to pieces, of course. You heard about that, right?’
Applejack had, in fact, and she’d cried a little herself.
‘I did, as it goes.’
‘Well, what can you expect? Consigning such a friend to the earth. You and I both know the toll that takes on a pony.’
‘He was her dearest, little Spike was.’
Rainbow sniffed.
‘We all knew the day would come. That it lasted so long was . . . cruel.’
‘It was,’ said Applejack, ‘and that’s how most of us go in the end. There’s no ceremony to it – we slowly fall apart.’
Rainbow nodded, swallowing.
‘Rarity’s OK – broken up, of course, but OK. Fluttershy’s staying with her family, and I haven’t spoken to Pinkie since – eh. You know.’
Applejack pitied her. It was easy, living in Ponyville – easier, anyway, than living on the spot like Rainbow. Detachment came naturally to the isolated, but she’d long reckoned that, from time to time, even he who is most aloof needs reacquainting with the warmth of his past. That was why she’d written to Rainbow. That was why she was here now.
‘You get comfortable,’ said Rainbow, ‘and you think that feeling’ll last forever. But all it takes is a little shove, and you’ve got to adjust all over again.’
Applejack sighed.
‘Guess we got too comfortable.’
‘That’s a fact.’
A gust of wind sent the trees crackling. Rainbow sighed too.
‘Listen to us,’ she said. ‘All doom and gloom, like old mares.’
‘We are old, Rainbow,’ said Applejack, ‘so we’d better put this matter to rest before we get any older – I don’t want to crack a hip.’
Rainbow’s mouth twitched. She held out a hoof, and Applejack bumped it.
A dirt path, a stream, a climb, and a gorge – a race reminiscent of the good days, when Applejack and Rainbow tried their utmost to one-up each other. An inspired notion, for such a race would certainly provide the shot in the arm Applejack so badly needed.
‘On three?’ said Applejack.
‘Sure,’ said Rainbow.
‘OK. One –’
‘Two –’
‘Three!’
Together they galloped into the Everfree. The effect was immediate. Sometimes when you relive an old experience, things are instantly as they were. Applejack felt elated. All that had hitherto blighted her existence was made immaterial.
She whooped as Rainbow overtook her. So long as she derived sufficient comfort from the race, its outcome did not matter. Self-centred thinking, yet Applejack couldn’t pretend she was here for any reason other than to treat her own wounds.
The trees cheered. The wind patted her on the back as she ran. Her hooves bit the soft earth, propelling her along the path of restoration. She grinned. All the old emotions – passion, exhilaration, delight – they filled her like hot cider on a cold day. She put on a burst of speed and passed Rainbow, who laughed. Applejack felt a rush of affection for her friend.
‘Pretty fast,’ said Rainbow.
‘Nah, you’re just getting slower!’ said Applejack, chortling. ‘You’ve been up in them clouds for too long, Dash!’
Like a maiden into the arms of her beloved she ran. And as she ran, she saw the memories of a better time. She saw Twilight and Spike and their library. She saw Pinkie getting excited over fresh bread. She saw Apple Bloom alive and well and joking with her friends. They were poignant – painful, even – and absolutely necessary.
‘Takes me back,’ she said. ‘Haven’t thought about this stuff in a while, not since – well, not since you left.’
Rainbow said nothing. Applejack ran on.
‘It’s been tough, sticking around. Sometimes I feel like – I dunno, like I’ve been left behind.’
Grunting, she jumped, then slowed to a trot and turned.
‘Still, life keeps moving, and little things keep it bearable. It's always good to see you, Rainb—’
The path was empty.
That was strange.
‘Rainbow?’
But there was no response.
Had she fallen?
‘Rainbow!’ she called. ‘Rainbow!’
WHAM!
Something whizzed past her, and Applejack cried out.
‘Fast enough for you yet?’
Applejack froze. But for the babbling of the stream and the rustling of the treetops, there was silence.
Then she ran. She ran hard.
And this time, she wasn’t smiling.
Rainbow’s hooves hit the ground. She folded her wings and ran. Ponies thought that, because she’d aged, she’d matured. It wasn’t so. Although she was less hot-headed, although she was more moderate, her attitude hadn’t changed, nor did Rainbow expect it to. She was stubborn. She was unrelenting. She was very much a sore loser.
So she had to win. She had to. Applejack understood that.
Admittedly, such a race hardly mattered in the grand scheme of things, but to Rainbow it was important. Victory was important. Was it so wrong to live for victory?
Besides, life was fleeting, as she and Applejack knew. Happiness even more so. Couldn’t Applejack begrudge Rainbow that which made her happy? Was it so much to ask?
The finish line was near. Should she cross it? Was pinching a race against a friend, a pony who cared about her, really that important?
Perhaps she should wait. But what would she say when Applejack got here? Should she lie and tell her she ran off-road?
She hesitated.
Then she heard it – a voice on the wind.
‘Rainbow! Rainbow, you cheat! Rainbow!’
She heard it and ran.
Applejack bared her teeth as she watched Rainbow struggle uphill. She had seen her land and knew she’d used her wings. The gall of her!
And for a moment, Applejack hated Rainbow. All the old emotions – anger, jealousy, spite – they came flooding back, just for a moment.
‘Rainbow!’ she yelled, bounding up the slope. ‘Get back here! Get back here and race me proper! Rainbow!’
Her cries fell on deaf ears. Applejack worked her mouth sourly. Oh, she would show her. She would win this race, about that there was no doubt.
Rainbow was slowing – the climb had exhausted her. Applejack ran as fast as she could.
Up.
Up.
Up.
‘Rainbow!’ she shouted, scaling the summit. ‘Rainbow, you cheating varmint!’
But Rainbow wasn’t listening. Applejack cursed and, frowning under the effort, ran faster still. Rainbow was halfway to the gorge, nearing the tracks. She could catch her!
Applejack smiled, but there was no joy in it. How dare she? How dare she do this to her? At her moment of victory that had nothing to do with coming first.
Then Rainbow took off, her wings beating feverishly. Applejack snarled.
‘Rainbow! Rainbow, you –’
Her eyes went wide.
She couldn’t let her win. She just couldn’t.
‘Rainbow!’ Applejack’s cries were incessant. ‘Rainbow, stop!’
Rainbow ignored them, but couldn’t ignore her guilt. Each wingbeat hurt in more ways than one, yet she flew toward the gorge, toward the finish line. She had to win. She had to.
‘Rainbow, stop! Stop, you idiot!’
Rainbow ignored her. Victory, however painful, however slight, would always be victory – and Rainbow couldn’t allow victory to slip away any more than she could fly to the moon.
‘Rainbow! Rainbow, what are you doing? Stop! Stop!’
Something shrill sounded. She was almost there.
‘Yes!’ cried Rainbow. ‘Yes! Y—’
‘RAINBOW!’
The train hurtled over the tracks, its whistle blaring. There was a crunching thud quickly swept away by the noise of the engine and wheels.
‘RAINBOW!’ screamed Applejack. ‘RAINBOW!’
Compartments flashed, rumbling horribly. Applejack ran as hard as her shaking legs would permit.
‘Rainbow,’ she sobbed.
She staggered to a halt as the final carriage sped into the distance, robbing the world of all its sound.
‘Rainbow . . .’
A single blue feather floated down through the air and came to rest on the tracks in front of her.