> Into the Deep
>  by TwilightSparkle484
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1: 'Surprised?'
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

With a sigh, I wiped the sweat from my brow for the millionth time that day. The sun was relentless, beating down upon my scales oppressively as I worked. I gazed up at the sky and was immediately blinded. Emitting a yelp, I fell backward on the grass and felt my hands rush to my eyes.

Darn. I thought. Is Twilight making the sun brighter or something? 

Eventually, the bright blue and green flashes that had clouded my vision faded away. I set down my shovel to rest for a moment. Although, as I inspected my most recent work, I realized I hadn’t made much progress. Despite all my effort, the fence post I was uprooting was still buried deep within the soil. I frowned, glancing at the growing pile of dirt beside it. I gave the post a good kick to test its stability. It didn’t budge, but a wave of pain did radiate throughout my foot.

I clutched my foot and hopped about on one leg, fighting back a few tears. Gritting my teeth, I threw my hat to the ground in frustration and stomped to the shelter of the red barn nearby. I climbed my way up a stack of hay bales and found the chilled, refreshing cider that had been thoughtfully placed there for me. After three swigs there was nothing but ice left in the glass. I sighed, giving the container a good shake before plopping it down beside me.

Just to be clear, I wasn’t the one who decided to come help out at Sweet Apple Acres. Let’s just say certain slightly crazy, purple alicorns can have weird ideas pop into their heads. (Don’t tell her I said that.)

I scratched one of the few dozen insect bites on my body as I watched Applejack round the barn with her plow. Just this morning, she had maneuvered through nearly half the orchard with the kind of skill I wasn’t capable of. She placed her plow nearby the door and trotted inside. Her hat was stained with sweat. 

“You alright there, Spike?” she asked. “It’s been hotter than normal these past few days. Reckon it’s got something to do with that heat wave the pegasi keep talking about.” 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I swatted a fly away with a claw. “No offense, but I’m happy to be going back home this evening.”

Applejack chuckled and joined me on top of the hay barrels. She had exchanged her soiled hat for a fresh one. “It’s fine, sugarcube. Bet I would be saying the same thing if I were you. Besides, you’ve worked real hard this entire time. You more than deserve a break.” Applejack squinted at the trees in the distance. “Sure do appreciate the help though, with Granny having injured her hip and all, again.” She sighed. “We’re a bit behind schedule this season.”

I placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder and smiled faintly. “She’ll be okay,” I encouraged. 

Applejack’s tough, but even anything mildly concerning about Granny Smith always seems to worry her. Like last night, for example: Granny choked on her soup when Apple Bloom said something particularly funny. Applejack must have had a heart attack or something with all the trouble she went through to make sure Granny was all right. Heck, she almost rushed her to the hospital! All in all, it only took a few sips of water to cease her coughing.

We sat together in silence on our makeshift tower for a few minutes. I took in everything – the trees, the fresh aroma of the grass, the clucking of the chickens in their coop, and even the now-fading sunlight of late afternoon. I could see why AJ and her family called this place home. The serenity of it all amidst the atmosphere of devotion, grit, and determination evoked a feeling indescribable within me. Although, I can say it was remarkable.

Just as I was deep in my thoughts, I heard a creak outside the barn door. I glanced at Applejack to make sure I wasn’t hearing things, but a look of confusion on her face confirmed my suspicions. One door was locked shut and the other was only partially open, so it was hard to tell if there was anything beyond it. Another creak resonated through the room. Warily, Applejack slid down from the hay bale and grabbed the nearest weapon-like object – a pitchfork. I gulped uneasily but readied my fire breath, nonetheless. The unlatched door continued to groan, slowly becoming further ajar. My heartbeat quickened as a sense of dread pervaded me.

The door then snapped open with such force that a whoosh and gust of wind filled the barn. 

“Boo!” shouted the voice of Rainbow Dash, who I couldn’t see as I tumbled from the top of the hay tower. I collided painfully with the floor and sent a fair amount of dust flying into the air. I could hear Applejack yelp and stumble backwards, her pitchfork falling with a loud thud.

The cyan pegasus cackled mischievously.

Applejack groaned from her position on the floor. “That wasn’t funny, Dash.”

Rainbow snickered, a cocky grin on her face. “Surprised?”

“No.”

I slowly raised myself from the ground, realizing I was shaking. I tried to even my breathing before speaking, so I wouldn’t sound like an idiot. “H-how did you know we were here?” My voice still squeaked more than I would have liked.

Rainbow smirked. “Easy. I’ve been here for, like, ten minutes at least. So, I heard you two talking and knew you were inside. I just had to wait for the right moment to strike.”

Applejack and I blinked in unison.

“You were spyin’ on us?!” the farmer yelled.

“Aren’t I awesome?”

“Seriously?”

Now, calm, and slightly annoyed, I walked over to the two of them. “At least she didn’t kick the barn down?”

Applejack just snorted and rolled her eyes. “What do you want, Rainbow?”

“Huh?”

“Why are you botherin’ us?! You interrupted our chores! Now, I’ve gotta rework the whole schedule.”

“Jeez, sorry.” Rainbow rubbed the back of her head. “Hmm, why did I come here? . . .”

“You don’t even remember?!”

“Just give me a second! . . . Oh, yeah!”

Rainbow unfurled a wing to reveal a sheet of paper she had tucked beneath it. She trotted toward us, smiling like her argument with Applejack had never happened.

“I wanted to show you this.” 

She unfolded the crumbled paper and held it up with a wing for Applejack to see. I stood on my tiptoes to get a better look. The paper was a flyer depicting the entrance of some cave. Judging by the multitude of trees and vines surrounding it, I guessed it was in the middle of a forest. Right in front of the opening was a banner that had been cut by a grinning, burly earth pony. 

The leaflet’s description read:


	BLUE MOON CAVE



	DISCOVERED BY SPELEOLOGISTS IN JANUARY OF THIS YEAR



	THE WONDERS OF THE EVERFREE LIE WITHIN THESE WALLS! THE BLUE RIVER, CALCIUM SEA, AND ANCIENT RUNES FROM GROGARIAN TIME ARE AMONG MANY!



	NOW OPEN FOR EXPLORATION! COME VENTURE HERE, IF YOU DARE.



	 



“Sounds pretty cool, right?” Rainbow asked, beaming. “A cave! So close to Ponyville too! It’s right on the outside of the Everfree Forest. Can you believe it was only discovered now?”

“It does seem interesting,” I commented, rubbing my chin. “Although, it may be dangerous.”

“There’s a rumor going around that freaky things happen in the cave if there’s a blue moon.”

“What kind of things?” I asked, suddenly trembling again.

“That’s all balderdash, Spike,” Applejack retorted. “Now, what the hay is The Blue River and what’s so special ‘bout it? Aren’t all rivers blue?”

“I guess that’s true, but The Blue River is special because it’s inside the cave. I bet it’s, like, a sparkly blue or something. So, completely different,” Rainbow said, hovering in the air and crossing her forelegs over her chest.

“Are you even hearing yourself right now?”

“Ancient runes from Grogarian time,” I repeated to myself. “What does that mean?”

Rainbow shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe they’re from whenever Grogar ruled over Equestria? I guess the ponies who made the flyer just wanted to make 'em sound fancy.”

“Hmm, that makes sense,” I replied, contemplating the idea. “I bet Twilight would like to study ‘em.”

“So, why’d you want to show us this here cave?” AJ asked, still skeptical.

“Well, I was thinking,” Rainbow began, smiling and narrowing her eyes, “what if we had a little challenge? You know, me and you? Just like the old days.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Uh, huh.” Rainbow leaned forward. “I dare you, Applejack, to go spelunking inside Blue Moon Cave.”

“Spe-what, now?

“Spe-lunk-ing,” Rainbow enunciated. “It’s the technical term for exploring caves.”

“You want me to go pokin’ ‘round a cave?”

I scratched my head and tried to search my brain. I remembered Twilight reading about cave exploration somewhere . . . Was it possible for someone to do it without an expert?

“Yes,” Rainbow answered slowly. “But you’ll be fine. You’ll be wearing lots of protective gear and stuff. The guys in charge will even give you a map. I bet I could find my way around there with my eyes closed.”

“So, you’re telling me you haven’t been in the cave yourself?”

“Not exactly . . .”

“Oh, I see. You want me to make sure there’s nothin’ dangerous in there, so that you’ll have it easy when you go in yourself,” Applejack teased, smirking.

“No, it’s not like that at all! I was just, uh, being nice by letting you go first.”

“Sure.”

“Can I go with Applejack,” I asked, finally catching the attention of both of them.

“Now, why would you want to do that, Spike? You know it might be dangerous.” Applejack eyed Rainbow Dash. “Plus, this is between me and Dash, here.” 

“I have fire. You never know when your flashlight will run out of power. Um, and you may want company. Twilight always says I’m a great companion. I might even be able to help you out with something.”

“That . . . does sound like a smart idea. I would love to have you around, Spike. I guess I do owe you back after all you’ve done here on the farm too.” Applejack smiled, and I gave her a grin in return. “What’dya think, Dash?” 

Rainbow Dash hesitated. “Well, okay. I guess that would be safer. But I’m bringing Scoots on my trip.”

“I dunno if Scootaloo would like this sort of thing,” Applejack said. “Remember that time you, me, Rarity, and our sisters went campin’? That gal was more frightened than a porcupine with goosebumps.”

Rainbow waved a hoof nonchalantly. “That was then. This is now. She’ll be fine.”

“Sounds fair to me,” I remarked, nodding. “I mean, Scootaloo going with Rainbow Dash if I get to go with Applejack.”

“Then, that settles it,” Rainbow declared. “You guys have two full days to reach the exit of the cave after you enter.”

“Two days?” Applejack asked, concerned. “You sure that’ll be enough time?”

“The cave’s not enormous, but it’s not small either. You’ll probably have to stay there for at least a night. I think you can manage the trip in two days though.”

“Yeah, we’ll be fine, AJ,” I assured, bumping Applejack with my elbow. “So, Rainbow, you’re sure anyone can explore the cave on their own?”

“Yeah, anyone can. Although, most ponies do decide to go with a guide, you know, since it’s safer. But this is a dare, it wouldn’t be cool enough if we had help.”

Applejack frowned. “I’m not sure-”

Rainbow groaned. “Ugh, fine! There’ll be an emergency button on your gear. Press it if you really need help, and a tour guide will come looking for you based on your location. Good enough?”

“Hmm, alright.”

“Why are you so worried anyway?”

“I just want Spike to be safe. Twi would kill me if anything happened to him.” She smiled down at me.

I felt myself blush. “Thanks, AJ. But I don’t think she would go that far, and I’ll be fine.” I think.

“Sure about that?” Dash asked, snickering.

“Rainbow,” Applejack growled.

“Okay. Okay. Sheesh. I was just kidding.”

Applejack picked up her pitchfork and set it back in its proper position along the wall. “Well, its gettin’ late. I’ve gotta finish my chores if I’m gonna get stuff ready for tomorrow. Not to mention figure out how Big Mac’s gonna adjust to his extra workload. You can go home now, if you’d like, Spike.”

I cocked my head. “Really? What about the fence post?”

“Applebloom can handle it. She should be startin’ on her rounds soon anyway.”

“Sweet!” I exclaimed, cracking my knuckles as I imagined our upcoming journey.

“Okay, I’m gonna go now. See you guys tomorrow at the cave’s mouth!”

“The mouth?” I asked, confused.

“The entrance!” Rainbow elaborated, already flying toward the door. “Nine o’clock, stat!”

With that, I said goodbye to AJ and asked her to thank Granny Smith for my meals and bed. As I walked out into the quickly cooling weather, I remembered the hat which I had left on the ground. Once I retrieved it, I dusted it off and placed it back on my head, grinning. Whistling, I took flight back to Canterlot in the direction of the sunset. My spine and wings tingled in anticipation and excitement. I couldn’t wait to tell Twilight about my impending adventure.
> Chapter 2: Entering the Unknown
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“WHAT?” Twilight shouted. 

Her voice resonated throughout the room, chilling me to the bone. I gulped as a frantic expression overcame her, a crazed look in her eyes. It wasn’t something I hadn’t seen before. Twilight’s freak-outs over the years have been too many to count, and I’ve certainly seen worse than the current situation. But the most disturbing thing was that her rage was directed at me. That was both unusual and frightening.

I don’t think I did anything wrong. After all, it was only a simple question.

Slowly, I backed away from her, emitting a nervous chuckle. As I did, she closed the space between us. Strands of her mane sprung out in various directions. I felt my back brush the wall behind me and immediately knew there was no hope of escape. Within moments we were inches away from each other. Twilight bent down to peer directly into my eyes. My heartbeat quickened.

“Repeat what you said, Spike,” she commanded.

Apprehensively, I scratched the back of my neck. “I just asked if I could go spelunking with Applejack.”

Twilight stared at me for a few moments longer. Little beads of sweat began to trickle down my head. Finally, she arose and released a heavy sigh. Her insanity seemed to dissipate and was replaced by a look of indecision and concern. She gazed up at the ceiling and muttered something to herself.

Twilight’s eyes returned to me. “I promised no more freak-outs, and I plan to stick to that promise. So, Spike, come sit by me.” She gestured to her canopy bed in the corner.

I heeded her instructions and sunk into the comfy mattress, resisting the urge to lie down. She sat close beside me and telekinetically moved her crown to her nightstand. It reflected the sun’s fading light and, thus, emanated a soft glow. 

Twilight turned to face me. “How was Sweet Apple Acres?”

“It was all right. Applejack says hi.”

Twilight nodded, pondering over something. After a while, she realized I was expecting her to say something in particular. “Since when have you been interested in caving?”

“Just since this afternoon, I guess.”

“And how did that happen?”

“Well,” I began, shuffling my feet, “Rainbow Dash came into the barn while AJ and I were on break and showed us a flyer about Blue Moon Cave-”

“Blue Moon Cave?”

“It’s this cave near the Everfree that some scientists discovered back in January. You’ve never heard of it?”

Twilight shook her head. “Not until today.”

“Well, the, um, cave scientists. . . Is there a better word for them?”

“Speleologist is the technical term.”

“Sounds weird, but okay. So, the speleologists examined it and now it’s open to the public for spelunking. And, well, Rainbow Dash dared Applejack and I to go through the whole cave in no more than two days.”

“She dared you and Applejack to do that?”

“Well, it was only Applejack at first, but I insisted that I accompany her.”

“Without asking me first,” Twilight scolded.

“Without asking you first,” I repeated, offering a sheepish smile.

Twilight facehoofed. “Why?”

“I thought you’d be okay with it. . .”

Twilight removed her hoof from her forehead with another sigh. “Spike, you know cave exploration is dangerous.”

“I know,” I said. My shoulders slumped forward. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

“You could catch a cold, fall into a river, crash into a giant spider web, accidentally step on a spider, or get lost in a maze of tunnels and never find your way out! The possibilities are endless, Spike.. . . I – I don’t want you to get hurt.”

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

“Promise?” Twilight asked.

“Promise,” I affirmed. 

We shared a long, tight embrace.   

Finally, I broke the hug. “I’m getting older, Twilight. I think I need some more freedom and independence.”

“You know what, Spike? I think so too. You need to explore the world.” Twilight smiled. “Sorry for being so overprotective. After all, it’s not like you haven’t had your fair share of dangerous experiences already.”

“Too dangerous.” I laughed, and Twilight happily joined in.

“You know what else I think you need?”

“What?”

Twilight’s eyes gleamed as she ignited her horn. “Be right back!”

Confused, I remained on the bed, waiting. She reappeared after a few seconds, holding a large book in her aura. She hopped back onto the bed.

“What’s that?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“This is a reference book on caves!” Twilight exclaimed, too gleefully. “Maud gave it to me last year. I haven’t had much use for it after I read it five times. But now. . .” She floated the book into my lap. “It will serve a purpose.”

“Great,” I mumbled.

“I suggest you read through it tonight. You might find something useful.”

“I guess,” I replied, leafing through the pages. “Thanks.”

“Mmhm.”

I suddenly noticed that it had gotten much darker outside.

“Hey, how did the sun set without your magic?”

“Oh! You noticed! Yesterday, Sunburst came over with Starlight for a visit. Somehow, the three of us ended up finding a way to program the amulet. Now, I can make it rise or set the sun and moon at any given time without my assistance.”

“Wow.” I blinked. “That’s impressive.”

“I know! Of course, I won’t have it do that all the time. I would be disrespecting Celestia and Luna as well as abusing the power they bequeathed to me.”

I laughed. “Whatever you say, Princess.”

Twilight rolled her eyes but still smiled. We sat quietly for a few moments, enjoying the gentle breeze that wafted through the open window. The peace was interrupted by a yawn from Twilight. For the first time that evening, I realized that there were bags under her eyes.

“Are you okay? You look tired.”

“Well, it is almost bedtime.”

“Yeah, but you look more tired than usual.”

“I’m okay, Spike. There was just a particularly long session in Day Court this afternoon.” She looked out the window, lost in thought.

“That seems to be happening more often these days.”

“What does?”

“A long day at the office.”

Twilight didn’t respond.

I sighed and slid off the bed, clutching the book in my hands. “You should head to bed early.”

Twilight’s gaze left the window. “Maybe you’re right.”

“You’ll take care of yourself while I’m gone, right? Try to relax a bit too. I think you’ve been too hard on yourself.”

“I will, and I know. I just want to make sure I rule the kingdom well. Celestia-”

“Celestia has faith in you, Twilight. She wouldn’t have picked you for the job if she didn’t. Everything will be okay. Things will get easier as time goes on.”

Twilight smiled. “Thanks, Spike. You’re the best little brother I could ever have.”

“And you’re the best big sister.”

We shared a hug again, this one just as lengthy and warm. I was fine with that though, because I couldn’t let go.”




I strode alongside Applejack, relishing the cool morning air. Having woken up much earlier than usual, the fog that covered my thoughts was only just beginning to clear. The sound of a bubbling fountain helped settle my nerves. Nearby, a large clock tower loomed over the town square. The hour hand was past eight, and the minute hand pointed straight down at six. Eight thirty. We still had a whole half hour before our deadline.

Ponyville was peaceful. Only a few ponies lined the streets, and the ones who were out and about were shopponies preparing for the crowds of the afternoon. The quiet atmosphere didn’t surprise me. It was Saturday morning, after all. 

Applejack hummed a gentle tune, her gaze wandering nonchalantly. Her trademark hat adorned her, as always, and a strand of straw hung out of the corner of her mouth. She didn’t seem to be chewing it though. I stopped to adjust my backpack for what must have been the fifth time since we left Sweet Apple Acres. As I did, I wondered how Applejack was suddenly so calm about the dare (as well as how she could find a piece of hay appetizing.)   

“Sure you don’t want me to carry that, Spike?”

“I’m good.” I gave Applejack a thumbs up and a wide smile. “Besides, I have to practice carrying this much equipment for when we actually get into the cave.”

“Hmm, that’s true. I guess.”

Applejack’s saddlebags sagged a bit at her sides. She appeared to be hauling just as much weight. She must be used to heavy loads though because of her years of farm work and experience.   

“We’ll go through all our stuff when we get there,” Applejack said.

I nodded. “But what if we forgot something? Wouldn’t it be too late to go back for it?”

Applejack cocked her head at me. “Spike, you live with Twilight. There’s no way you forgot anythin’.”

I thought about the seven times Twilight went through my bag both before and after I slept. 

“Yeah, you’re right. But what if you forgot something?” 

“I reckon I’m fine. And if I did forget somethin’, there’ll probably be tour guides who have equipment we can borrow.”

I nodded again.

“Worst comes to worst, we’ll just have to make do with the things you’ve got.”

“’kay.”

We continued walking, our pace a tad faster now. It wasn’t long before we came across Fluttershy’s cottage. The yellow mare was tending to her garden as we approached. However, she still managed to acknowledge our presence. There was some distance between us, so Fluttershy could only produce a wave and smile as her greeting. We returned the gesture happily. Seeing Fluttershy was comforting, but her home also reminded me of how close we were to the Everfree Forest.

As we left Fluttershy behind, Applejack turned to face me.

“Now, Spike, ‘ccording to the map I was looking at this morning, we’ve got to follow Saddle Lake to get to Blue Moon Cave.”

“Saddle Lake?” I asked, confused.

“It’s ‘bout a half-mile or so yonder.” Applejack pointed to the left with a hoof. “Shouldn’t be too much trouble.”

She started off again, and I, still scratching my head, followed close behind. Without so much as a glance backward, we entered the forest. It wasn’t long before a winding body of water appeared before us. 

“I haven’t been in these here parts of the woods before, so make sure to stay close,” AJ warned.

“Got it.”

We trekked alongside the water for what felt like hours. All the while, I wrestled with my emotions, which kept leaping between excited, anxious, and terrified. I occasionally kicked a stone into the water to break up the monotony of walking. My wings wouldn’t stop entangling themselves in vines, and each time I would stop to free them, I would realize Applejack was several feet ahead. 

It was when I heard the sound of ponies conversing that I was at last greeted by the sight of the cave’s mouth. The entrance was WAY larger than I anticipated. It stretched to at least twenty-five feet in height and possibly double that in width. From what little of Twilight’s book I had read last night, I deduced that that was unusual. Despite the early hour, up to three dozen ponies were already outside the cave. Some were dressed in spelunking gear, while others simply listened to the lectures of tour guides. It was easy to distinguish the visitors from the workers; the guides were dressed in reflective blue suits.

The butterflies in my stomach intensified as Applejack and I leapt over the stream, that was the remnant of Saddle Lake, to reach the Blue Moon Cave area. We slowed down then, scanning the expanse for the familiar face we were expecting. As if on cue, a shout from a waving, rainbow-maned pegasus got my attention. Applejack and I joined her by a stand handing out free water.

“I wasn’t sure you guys we’re gonna come.” Rainbow said, smiling. 

“Why wouldn’t we? We all agreed to yesterday’s terms,” Applejack countered.

Rainbow displayed her watch. “It’s eight fifty-seven.”

“Which means we’re early.”

“Well, if you look at it the other way, you’re almost late.”

Applejack rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to retort.

“Look!” I exclaimed, interrupting her. 

My extended claw pointed to rivulets of sparkling water flowing down the left side of the cave. The water pooled around the cave’s entrance in the form of a moat.

Applejack whistled. “Wow. . .”

“It’s part of the Blue River,” Rainbow explained, gazing at the miniature waterfall. She smirked. “Told you it was sparkly.” 

Applejack just facehoofed and stared up at the sky in response.

“Nine o’clock sessions start now!” a tour guide bellowed. He gestured to the cave’s opening. “I can take a group of about seven or eight on a quick half hour tour, and Bill over there can take six on a full-day expedition.” The stallion directed his hoof toward a smiling, younger stallion to his right. “Individual explorers can depart now if they wish.”

Rainbow shook my shoulder. “That’s you guys! You ready?”

“I think so,” I replied, although, I could feel my hands trembling. Taking a deep breath, I steadied myself. I had faced worse in my time, and most importantly, I had to be brave for Applejack. “Where’s Scootaloo?”

“Oh.” Rainbow frowned and looked to the ground. “Um, she . . . couldn’t make it! Totally. She’s got a huge school project, or something, to work on.”

“Uh, huh.” Applejack was unamused. “Well, she better be here when it’s your turn to go in.”

“Don’t worry. She will.”

“Come on, Spike. Let’s go change into our gear and go through our equipment.”

“All right,” I agreed. “Be back soon, Rainbow.”

A sigh. “Just hurry.”



A few minutes later, Applejack, Rainbow and I were now right beside the cave’s mouth.

“Helmet,” Applejack began the checklist.

“Check,” I responded, accounting for both of our belongings.

“Headlamp.”

“Check.”

“Spare headlamp.”

“Check.”

“Hiking boots.”

“Check.”

“Wetsuit.”

“Check.”

“Rope.”

“Check.”

“Provisions.”

“Check.”

The list went on for quite a while, and Rainbow almost fell asleep from boredom. When we did finish, the pegasus ranted about how it was now nine thirteen. Apparently, we were violating the terms of the dare. I disagree since I’m pretty sure we were supposed to meet at the cave at nine, but not necessarily enter right then. Anyway, Applejack argued about Dash was wasting even more time lecturing us.

Eventually, a friendly tour guide approached us.

“Are all three of you going in?”

“Just me and Applejack,” I answered, pointing to the farmer.

“Okay, then. Has all equipment been accounted for?”

“We just double checked,” Applejack affirmed, trotting away from an annoyed Rainbow Dash and turning her attention to the mare.

“Good. Do either of you have any experience spelunking?”

I looked to Applejack. “Um, not exactly,” was her response.

The tour guide frowned and tapped her chin. “You need to be aware of hazardous situations. Slipping, falling objects, hypothermia, getting lost, exhaustion, light failure, and drowning are all possible.”

I gulped, my anxiety returning.

“Stay together, don’t overexert yourself, and have an emergency plan. I strongly believe you guys will be fine. There should be many other ponies and guides in the cave with you if you need any help. Also. . .” she reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “Here’s a map of the entire cave system. It’s pretty straightforward.”

Applejack studied it for a minute. She glanced at Rainbow. Something about Dash’s expression told me she wasn’t planning on using a map for her expedition anytime soon.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Applejack said, stuffing the map into her saddlebag.

“My pleasure. There’s also an emergency button on this patch you can attach to your clothes.” She hoofed Applejack and I one patch each. “You should be all set now.”

Rainbow grinned. “Finally!”

“You ready, Spike?” Applejack peered down at me, her expression one of fearlessness.

I aimed to follow her example. “You bet.”

Slowly, we crossed the red tape marking the cave’s boundary.

“Good luck,” Rainbow called. “See you on the other side!”

“We’ll be there before you know it,” Applejack hollered back.

I watched as Rainbow Dash and the natural light of the outside world began to fade as we trekked deeper inside.

“Luck?” Applejack chuckled. “Won’t be needing that, now will we?”

“Nope.” I switched on my headlamp and focused on breathing.

At that point, I knew there was no turning back. If only I knew what was ahead.. . .
> Chapter 3: Frights and Small Spaces
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Applejack?” I called to the emptiness ahead of me.

“What?!” 

The response was loud, too loud for the hollow cave we had become confined in. Her voice reverberated throughout the space around us, the echo repeating itself until it eventually died away.

“Heh, heh,” Applejack chuckled, nervously. She lowered her voice. “Forgot about that. What’s wrong, Spike?”

“It’s dark.”

“We’re in a cave.”

“I know. . .”

“But?”

“It’s really dark.” 

Despite the thicket of black between me and the orange pony, I could still sense the eye roll she gave me.

“Haven’t you been in a cave before, Mr. Dragon?”

“Yeah . . . but none of them were this dark. I can’t see more than ten feet in front of me.”

Applejack sighed. I heard her shuffling from somewhere up ahead. Patiently, I waited for a few moments. A dull glow appeared from a passage on my right. Its intensity grew by the second, and as it did, my fears subsided. Applejack came into view, her headlamp revealing itself to be the source of the light.

“Better?” she grumbled.

“Yeah.”

She approached me and wrapped a foreleg around my shoulders. Kneeling in front of me, she tipped my head upwards so that our eyes were forced to meet.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, Spike. No matter what happens, you and I are gonna get out of this cave one way or another. Nothing’s gonna stop us. You just have to trust me, all right?”

“I do,” I replied, nodding. I clenched a fist and took a few deep breaths. “I’m ready.”

Applejack patted me on the back and rose to her hooves. “That’s the spirit. I know you can be brave. Make sure you stay close to me from now on.” 

AJ turned to face the passage she had begun treading. She bit her lip, contemplating something.

“We oughtta head that way,” she spoke. Her voice was firm, but her eyes ever so slightly exposed the doubts she concealed.

“Are you sure?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe we should take a look at the map.”

Applejack was silent for a moment. “We ain’t using the map.”

I blinked. “What?”

“You saw the way Dash reacted when that tour guide was givin’ it to us. She’s got no intention of using it, so neither will we. The dare’s gotta be equitable for both sides.”

“Applejack, this is crazy! We’ll get lost for sure!” My arms crossed over my chest.

“You know Rainbow. If we use the map and make it out in less time than her and Scootaloo, she’ll use that against us.”

“But – but,” I sputtered. “That’s unfair!”

“And that’s exactly what she’ll say to us about using the map.”  

I groaned and didn’t bother restraining my gloved hand from slapping my forehead.

“We’ll pull it out if we’re certain we can’t find our way around anymore,” she added.

“But what if it’s too late by then?” I pressed, frustrated. To my annoyance, Applejack had already entered the tunnel. I gritted my teeth. “You know you’re being stubborn, right?!” My answer was a chorus of echoes, each one taking its turn to mock me.



The passage was small. Its ceiling was low enough to brush Applejack’s hat, and I could almost touch its walls with the tips of my outstretched wings. My boots felt heavy and awkward on my feet. The scent of must, dirt, and mildew was pervasive in the air around us. Each breath I took seemed to have been amplified, and my heartbeat pounded in my ears. We did our best to move carefully and quietly. Echoes were harsh reminders of the predicament we had gotten ourselves in.   

As time passed, my eyes adjusted to the cave’s darkness. I dimmed the brightness of my headlamp. Its glow had ironically now become too bright for comfort. My attention wandered to little things that had been of insignificance to me only minutes before. Odd rock formations jutted out from the ground hither and thither, and moisture filled various grooves along the walls. If I listened closely, I could hear the muffled voices of ponies somewhere else within the cave. 

Tourist groups. I thought, cracking a smile for the first time that day. We weren’t alone. Everything would be okay.

Applejack continued to lead the way. She moved at a fixed pace. Not too fast, but not slow enough to escalate the tension in the atmosphere. We took a turn. Left. Then right. Then left again. We walked onward, unsure of exactly where we were headed. Overtime, the ceiling became lower and lower. I found myself crouching down along with it. Inevitably, a dull pain developed in my lower back. Applejack’s pace slowed to some degree, and she kept changing the position of her body. Because she was bigger, I now realized, she was probably more uncomfortable than me.

“You all right, Spike?” Applejack questioned. She made an effort to rotate her head and get a glimpse of me.

“I’m good,” I said, stooping a little lower as I narrowly avoided a collision with the ceiling. “How about you?”

AJ grunted. “I’ve been better.” Her flashlight, which had been slipping precariously from her saddlebag, clattered to the floor. She retrieved it with a sigh. “But I’ve been worse, I suppose.”

“When do you think this tunnel will end?”

Another grunt. “I dunno.”

She didn’t say anything else, so I decided to keep my mouth shut. 

The walls joined in on the ceiling’s game, narrowing dangerously close on our sides. Together, they drastically lessened the size of the tunnel, attempting to suffocate us like a snake subduing its prey. 

A troubling thought suddenly crossed my mind.

What if we reach a dead end . . . or worse, get stuck?

I shoved it away immediately. We had to keep going.

Applejack’s voice startled me. “Aw, shoot,” she muttered. She halted abruptly.

I stopped behind her. “What happened?” I asked. My eyes darted around the tunnel.

“We’ll have to crawl,” Applejack explained. She laid down to scan our passage ahead. “Yep. Gets even tighter down the bend.”

I sighed. “We better do it then. Maybe we’ll find somewhere comfortable to rest!”

Applejack pushed onward. “I here ya, Spike. I hear ya.” 



Several minutes later, we had finally encountered a wall in front of us. An end. The final stop. The tunnel had been terminated, and we had been deceived.

Instead of suppressing anxiety like I had anticipated, I found myself in a fit of rage. Applejack sat beside me, hunched over and dumbfounded. Her breathing was slightly uneven, and strands of her mane either hung out of place or were plastered to her face with sweat. Caked with dust and dirt, her coat was turning a shade of brown. (Rarity would probably call it rust or amber.)

“I just don’t get it,” Applejack wheezed. “I was sure this tunnel’d lead to someplace. For Celestia’s sake, we’ve been crawlin’ round here for at least an hour!”

I rubbed my face forcefully with my hands. “It’s okay, Applejack. We didn’t know this would happen. But maybe we should use themap now?”

Applejack removed both her helmet and hat to inspect them.

I shook my head at the lack of response. Upon doing so, however, my eyes perceived something shiny on my right. Curious, I picked it up and held the object aloft in the light of my headlamp. It was a pebble, one made out of glass. My eyes widened in surprise and excitement. Somepony had probably dropped it by accident when they were exploring the cave. Slowly, I rotated the pebble in the light, allowing each and every spot on its surface to glow elegantly. I closed my fist around the rock, safely confining it from the outside world. A smile spread across my face. Of course, I intended to return the pebble. But if my attempts were to fail, it would be nice to know my expedition had rewarded me with a piece of treasure. 

I turned to Applejack, eager to inform her of my discovery. However, upon looking, I realized she was in a different spot than before. She sat quietly, peering down at something in the tunnel’s right corner. My first thought was that she had found another pebble. We could start a collection! Or maybe they formed a trail that would lead to an easy way out of here. Nonetheless, both ideas likely weren’t the case.

“Applejack?” I called.

“Spike, I found something,” she whispered back. Her tone was one of excitement.

I crawled over to her and followed her gaze. She was staring at a small hole. I cocked my head at her, but her grinning, dirt-stained face was enough to tell me that there was something else about the pit that I was missing. (On the other hoof, maybe she was finally losing it like the rest of us.) Our headlamps illuminated what was visible of the hole – more rocks, dust, and eventually darkness.

I finally caught on. “This is a bad idea.”

Applejack rolled her eyes. “Yes, if we aren’t smart about it. Now, I heard somewhere that you can find out how deep a hole is by dropping a stone inside.” 

Her eyes scanned the area for a few seconds, but soon landed on my claws. Confused, I glanced down to see that I had loosened my grasp on my pebble and had accidentally revealed it. Before I could react, she reached out and grabbed the rock with a hoof.

“Ah, you already found one. Thanks, Spike,” she said. 

“Wait, no!” I whisper-shouted. Unfortunately, it was too late. My precious stone was already plummeting down the abyss.

My scream was hindered by the hoof shoved into my mouth.

I glowered at Applejack, but she failed to notice. Clink. The pebble had hit the ground. Applejack nodded in satisfaction and collected her saddlebags sitting alongside the opposite wall. She fastened them to her midsection and increased the brightness of her headlamp.

I, still fuming, found my voice. “AJ, what the hay?!”

“I’m goin’ in. You stay right here till I call, you hear?”

“What . . . but?”

Applejack waved a hoof at me. “It ain’t that deep. That rock hit the ground in seconds.”

“That rock-” I began, furiously. Applejack missed the rest. She was already far underground. 

Clutching the rim of the hole, I gazed down apprehensively. Applejack maneuvered around various rocks and squeezed through whatever crevices she could access.

“Sweet Celestia, it’s really tight down here,” she said, making eye contact with me. “Hmm, here’s a good crack. . .”

She wriggled downward until I could no longer see light being emitted from the hole. I waited, anxiously. A minute passed, then two. Still, there was silence. I thought about asking her if everything was okay when I finally heard her call.

“I’m all the way down, Spike,” Applejack announced. She laughed. “It wasn’t that bad. There were only a few moments where I thought I was stuck.”

Only a few? I thought, my skin prickling. 

“Are ya coming?”

“Um,” I said, hesitating. “Are you sure it was okay?”

“I’m sure. Now, quit being such a worrywart and come down. We have a time limit, remember?”

A surge of adrenaline filled me. I had completely forgotten about that constraint. Lucky for us, if we hurried, we’d still have enough time left to make it out of the cave.

“I’m coming!” I responded. 

I promptly slid into the darkness. 

Applejack was right. There wasn’t much space in here. In fact, I struggled to even rotate my body. Nevertheless, I persisted, knowing I couldn’t stay in the hole forever. Every now and then, I called out to Applejack to give her an update on my progress. At one point in my descent, I found myself wedged firmly between two rocks. Staying as calm as my mind would allow, I clashed with the obstacles, fighting to force myself downward. It took much effort, but I was eventually able to squeeze through with no more than pain and some scratches on my sides.

I laid panting heavily on the ground when my downward climb came to an end. I was extremely grateful to be on a firm surface, and I would have hugged the stone floor if I could. The total trip had taken at least three times as long as Applejack’s. 

The pony in question stood by my side, smiling down at me.

“Too much for ya?” she asked.

I just groaned in response.

She chuckled and shook her head. “You’ll be fine. Especially once you take a look around.”

I heaved myself into a sitting position and attempted to figure out what Applejack meant. We were in a tall, long chamber, much more comfortable than where we were earlier. I swiveled my head around slowly to process our surroundings. Within time, I noticed tiny scribbles on the wall behind me. Rising slowly from the ground, I walked over to inspect them. Foreign characters and shapes took the place of what I had interpreted as doodles and scratches. They filled the center of the wall from where I stood to the nearest boulder, which was at least fifty feet away.

Applejack approached me. “I guess that flyer was right. These must be them runes.”

I nodded, mystified. “I wonder who wrote them. How old do you think they are?”

Applejack shrugged. “Beats me. Do I look like a scientist to you?”

I rubbed my chin in thought. “Oh! I should take a picture for Twilight.”

After rummaging through my backpack, I pulled out the camera I had conveniently packed. A quick flash later and I had captured the writings.

“Maybe she’ll have answers,” I said, as I stowed it away.

We examined the runes for a few seconds longer.

“That one looks like a . . . uh, a bird or somethin’?” Applejack guessed.

“Looks more like a rabbit to me,” I countered.

“Hmm, not seeing it,” Applejack replied, tipping her head to the side.

I scratched my head. “Now that you mention it. . . Yeah, definitely not a rabbit.” 

“Huh, weird. Well, I’m gonna look at the ones over there.” Applejack gestured to the area farther down the chamber. “I’ll see if I can find a pattern or somethin’.”

“Yeah, sure,” I said.

I redoubled my thinking efforts. Applejack had a point. A pattern might help us understand what we were looking at. I went down the line of shapes. Letter. Wave. Rabbit-thing. Circle. Rabbit-thing. Wave. Wave. Then the symbols would change completely, forming figures I had never seen before. Carefully, I reached out to touch a rune. It was engraved deep inside the stone wall. Decoding the writing was going to be harder than I thought. We would probably have to give up sooner or later though. Otherwise, we would waste too much valuable time. 

No more than five minutes later, a low rumbling sound resonated throughout the room. Puzzled, I stopped inspecting the drawings and looked around me in confusion. The rumbling didn’t cease, as I hoped it would, but rather intensified. The old familiar feeling of dread crept throughout my body as I rose to my feet. Simultaneously, Applejack came thundering down the chamber. Her hooves clopped loudly against the ground and her eyes were wide and wild.

“We gotta go, now,” Applejack blurted when she neared me.

“What’s that noise?!” I cried.

“No time,” she interrupted.

Suddenly, she used her mouth to grab me on the back of my neck and sling me onto her back. I yelped in surprise and clutched onto her tightly as she sprung into full gallop. All the while, the deafening sound behind us grew louder.

“Rocks,” Applejack explained as she ran. “There was a rockfall somewhere up past where I was standin’ earlier.” She leapt over a pit in the ground. “I saw some of ‘em boulders with my own two eyes. The ground slopes so they’re comin’ down our way.”

Tentatively, I glanced backward. To my dismay, I could see the beginnings of the avalanche behind us.

“Oh, they’re coming all right, and they’re coming fast!” I yelled over the cacophony of noise.

Applejack picked up the pace. She flew down the hall, using all of her strength to get us to safety. I tried not to think about what would happen if Applejack fell. I tried not to imagine myself slipping from her back and crashing to the floor. Instead, I held my breath and prayed, doing my best to drown out the sounds behind me.

I could hear the rocks growing closer. Yet Applejack had been at maximum speed for minutes and was even slowly starting to tire. My heart raced. A chunk of stone pounded me on the back. The sharp pain forced me to cry out loudly. Somehow, this invigorated Applejack, giving her a newfound boost of speed. The rocks tumbled faster as our slope suffered an even sharper decline. But our only escape route was downward, so downward we ran.

Time seemed to crawl as we raced against death, and Applejack once again struggled to maintain her speed. Forcing myself to look ahead, I spotted another fork in our course. We had to make a decision within the next three seconds. Hesitation could mean the end. 

“Applejack, turn right!” I screamed.

She didn’t argue. She may not have even heard me. But when we did approach the tunnels, my advice was heeded. The avalanche collided with the wall between the passageways in an explosion of rock, dust, and sound. 

In that moment, I was certain I had gone deaf.

The ringing in my ears persisted for several minutes. All the while, Applejack tore down the hallway, afraid of ending our run too early. After some time, the tunnel ended abruptly and yielded to a wide-open space. The area was filled with a spectacular array of columns. Glittering stalactites and stalagmites created a display of awe and beauty. A sparkling river flowed through the midst of it all.

As I jumped off her back, Applejack’s legs finally gave way. She sank to the floor, breathing heavily. Her expression though was one of relief.

“Spike . . . I . . . I can’t tell you how lucky we are,” she sputtered.

I hugged her tightly. “You saved my life.” Tears sprang to my eyes.

“You would have done the same . . . if you were . . . in my position.” Her words were broken up by her breathing. 

“Thank you,” I said, standing up. “We’ll stay here for a while.”

Applejack closed her eyes to rest. I could tell she wasn’t asleep though. She wouldn’t allow herself to do that.

I decided to take another photo, this time of the river and mineral scene before me. As I did, something black appeared in the right corner of my eye. Unwilling to take any more chances, I spun around instantly. But, to my surprise, nothing was there. I scanned the area intently for a full minute. Nothing. There was nothing there.

Perplexed, but still vigilant, I settled down on the ground beside Applejack and pulled out my reference book on caves. I would wait for her to recuperate before we made our next move.



About a quarter of an hour and a water break later, Applejack and I stood before the flowing Blue Moon River. The shimmering body of water prevented us from crossing to the other side of the cave, where we could continue our journey.

I looked to Applejack, who was in deep thought. 

“I have an idea,” she remarked. From her saddlebags she extracted a long piece of rope.

“How’s that gonna help?” I asked.

“See that stalactite up there?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m gonna wrap this ‘round it. Then, if it’s taut and rigid, we’ll swing. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“I’ll go first though, just in case.”

“Just in case what?”

Applejack started to swing her lasso, searching for a suitable amount of spin. She looked me in the eye. With a sharp snap, she threw the loop of the rope around the stalactite hanging from the ceiling. Applejack then pulled it tight, ensuring that it wouldn’t slip from the stalactite.

“That should do it,” she said, the rope still in her teeth. 

She wrapped the lasso around her waist, ensuring that the hold was firm there as well.

“All right. On the count of three,” she declared. “One.”

“Two,” I continued.

“Three.”

She swung, her movement practiced and graceful. Applejack was halfway across the river when the unthinkable happened. The stalactite snapped from its place on the ceiling and plummeted into the water. 

Applejack plummeted into the river along with it.

She yelped as she made contact with the icy blue water. Instantly, she clutched onto the nearest secure object – a large rock in the water. She held on firmly as water rushed past her. I could only stare, my mouth agape in shock. After a few seconds of valiant resistance, there came a point where Applejack no longer had the strength to hold on.

She locked eyes with me. “I have to follow the current, Spike!” she yelled. “I can’t hold on no longer.”

She let go of the rock.

“I’ll be wherever the river lets up enough for me to get back on land,” she said as the river began to carry her. “Come find me when you can. Stay safe, Spike! Please.”

Applejack drifted farther and farther downstream until eventually she was out of sight.
> Chapter 4: Wandering, Wondering, and Wayfaring
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

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

Unwanted thoughts raced through my mind. 

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

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

I bumped into the pillar. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wait.

My wings!

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

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

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

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

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

“Spike!” The shout came.

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

“Spike, over here!”

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

There!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The current was that fast?”

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

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

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

“Huh?”

“I’m bein’ metaphorical.”

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

“Yep. Definitely too much Twilight.”

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

“Twilight?”

“Yeah.”

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

“It’s cider season already?”

“Uh huh.”

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

Applejack raised an eyebrow. “Now, Spike…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmph. That’s it?”

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

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

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

“Yes!” Applejack earned another hug from me.

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

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

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

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

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





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

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

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

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

“I was going to warn you,” I mumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Applejack cocked her head.

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

“Uh huh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I guess not.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, so you admit,” I teased.

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Crab apples,” Applejack spat again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Supposedly,” AJ replied, shrugging in defeat.

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

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

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

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

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

“Pardon?”

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

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

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

“Twi gave you a book on caves?”

“Yep.”

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

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

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

The book dropped with a deafening thud.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Spike, wait!” Applejack yelled.

“There’s no time!”

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

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

Everything went black.
> Chapter 5: Complicated Complications
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

A dull pain flooded its way through my skull. It pulsated, like a heartbeat, filling my every breath with regret. My eyelids refused to open, the infinitesimal muscle movements now unbearable for my body. I could detect faint noises from somewhere above, yet the sounds blurred together in my semi-consciousness, making it impossible to distinguish the source. Slowly, the pain that assailed my head began to infiltrate my limbs, chest and back. I deduced that I was injured, and that the word ‘hurt’ had never been defined well enough.

I struggled to recall what had inflicted this hurt. Memories of the crude map and cave-dwelling bats trickled into my mind, but nothing more. 

Something warm made contact with my forehead. The object was soothing, a soft, small weight that rested against my head. It alleviated the pain there significantly, which in turn, reduced the throbbing that permeated the remainder of my body.

I laid supine, the cold surface below me assisting in soothing my back. I resisted the urge to think, allowing myself to recuperate and recuperate only. The pain continued to dissipate until it reached a plateau. To my relief, I no longer felt overwhelmed. 

Gradually, I cracked open one eye. 

Applejack stared back at me, a curious expression on her face. My vision returned to darkness as exhaustion gained the upper hoof. Seconds passed. I fought again to view the world, and this time, was successful in opening both of my eyes. Applejack was smiling, her hat missing from its place upon her head.

“Well, it’s about time,” she chuckled. “You’ve been out for hours, Spike. Ya really had me worried there.”

“Wha?” I managed to croak. I still hadn’t been able to remember what happened.

“I’m just pullin’ your leg,” Applejack explained, grinning. “It ain’t been more than a half hour or so.”

“Since what?” I coughed.

Applejack’s face grew solemn. “You don’t remember?”

I shook my head and immediately winced.

Applejack sighed and gazed wearily at the floor. “You don’t remember,” she mumbled, more to herself than me. “I guess I got my hopes up when you didn’t look to be in too bad shape.”

I shifted my weight to one side and awkwardly propped myself up on an elbow. “Can you at least tell me what happened?”

“We heard a rumblin’ noise, and, all of a sudden, you started runnin’ downhill like a headless chicken.” Applejack shook her head in disapproval. “You slipped and knocked yourself unconscious.”

I rubbed the back of my head tenderly. That explained the pain, along with the dizziness that was just beginning to affect me.

Applejack unwound a cloth bandage from its spool. “I just wish you had listened to me. A concussion ain’t something to play around with.”

“Hold on. A concussion?” I questioned, my face conveying an expression of dismay.

“Eeyup.” Applejack snipped off a strip of the bandage and proceeded to wrap it around my head. “No doubt about that. Thank Celestia you had your helmet on. Ya fell hard and tumbled for quite a ways too. If you weren’t wearing it…”

“No, no. I get the point,” I interjected, waving my claws. I was now sitting upright, albeit still lightheaded and slightly disoriented. “No need to explain.”

“All I’m saying is you’re pretty darn lucky, Spike. Things could’ve ended up worse. I’m surprised you only got scratches and bruises on top of that concussion.”

I scrutinized my wings and arms. “No blood?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Must have somethin’ to do with your scales.”

I stared at the back of my hand, examining the purple, overlapping scales. “I guess…” I responded, without looking up.

We were both quiet for a few moments.

“Here,” Applejack spoke up. She slid a translucent pouch over to my side. I picked it up and surveyed it in my claws. Warmth flooded my hands, and the slippery gel beads within the bag calmed my nerves. I immediately recognized it as the object that had graciously subdued the pounding in my head.

“Thanks,” I said, smiling. I placed it gingerly back on my forehead, on top of the layered bandage. “I’m sorry for being a pain in the neck. I bet if you did this whole expedition by yourself, you would have been out of here two hours ago.”

“What in the name of Celestia are you talkin’ about? Of course, that ain’t true, Spike. I need you. I’d have already gone mad if ya weren’t here to keep me in line. Heck, you saved me from those bats.”

I smirked. “I wouldn’t say saved, but I guess I did give you a fair warning … which led to you making them decide to attack us.”

Applejack chuckled, tugging her hat back over her disheveled mane. “I suppose that’s true. But my point is, I wouldn’t make it to the other end if I didn’t have someone like you at my side.”

“Aw, thanks,” I replied, smiling and wiping a solitary tear from my left eye. “But that’s kind of the reason why I came though, so I already know that.” 

Applejack rolled her eyes, yet the corners of her mouth remained upturned. “Yes, I know that you know. And I know that I’ll never know when I’ll need a loyal dragon again in this crazy labyrinth of a cave.”

I blinked and attempted to clear the perplexing words from my mind. “Whatever,” I responded, laughing. I flinched again when it induced a fresh wave of pain.

“You okay there?” Applejack asked.

“Oh, sure. I laughed and-”

“I meant do you think you’ll be able to continue, or should we go back to the mouth?”

I hesitated. “Can we even make it back?”

Applejack frowned. “Huh. I guess you’re right. Retracin’ our steps wouldn’t be so easy, now, would it? Hmm…” She rubbed a hoof thoughtfully under her chin.

“And if we did go back, we’d technically be forfeiting.”

“Forfeitin’? If your concussion is that serious, Spike, then forfeitin’ is the last thing I’ll be thinkin’ about, and you know that.” 

“I know. I know. It’s just, we’ve worked so hard to get here.”

She sighed. “I know.”

I twiddled my thumbs for a minute. “You know what? I think – I think I’m fine.”

“Really? Ya sure?” Applejack asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow for emphasis.

“Yeah,” I affirmed after only a moment of hesitation. “I’m sure.”

Applejack opened her mouth but made to close it instead of speaking. She gazed at indistinct point somewhere far behind me. Precisely what had caught her attention was unknown; lost to the darkness of the cave. Slowly, she refocused her eyes on me, a tired sigh escaping her.

“I hope I’m making the right decision here.”

“Is that a yes, then?” I asked, brightening. “The journey must go on, right?”

“Well, yes, if you want to call it that. Seems more like torture to me though.”

“Yeah. Definitely more torture than journeying,” I assented. I attempted to stand up, almost falling in the process. However, Applejack was there in a heartbeat to catch and support me. 

“AJ?” I asked.

“Yes, sugarcube?”

“Do you think Rainbow knew about all this beforehoof?” I glanced at her over my shoulder as I spoke. 

She tightened her lips. “Now that you mention it, that does sound like somethin’ she would do.”

“I knew it,” I spat, clenching my claws.

“But I refuse to believe such a loyal mare would stoop to that level.” Applejack slipped back into her saddlebags and hoisted my backpack from the floor with her mouth.

“You’re … being sarcastic, right?”

“Do I even know anymore?” Applejack answered through clenched teeth.

I wobbled forward gradually until I could manage a steady gait. “You know,” I said, “you don’t have to carry my stuff. I’m pretty sure I can handle it.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, partner. I got ya covered ‘till you’re feeling completely better. That means no more walking like a duck.”

“Not funny,” I retaliated. 

Applejack snorted. “Didn’t say it was.” She removed her hat and briefly scanned the map, which had been tucked away inside. “Besides, we still got a long way to go.”





“I think I’m gettin’ the hang of this,” Applejack said cheerily. It was plausible that the optimism in her voice was feigned.

“Really?” I asked, my tone equally bright.

“Yep. Just gotta squint real hard and do the opposite of whatever it says.”

“Well, that sounds effective,” I quipped.

Applejack shrugged. “If it works, it works. Better than using logic.”

She was right. The map was the definition of illogical. Suppertime was nearing, and we had only gotten as far as exiting the loopty-loop we had found ourselves in. Well, that, and maybe travelling for another mile or so. My legs rebelled in pain with every step I took, and my head still felt as if someone had placed a fog machine inside it. (The only good news was I hadn’t seen the odd shadow since the concussion incident.) Nonetheless, we persisted. Time was running out if we wanted to prove ourselves to Rainbow Dash. Or if you looked at it from a different perspective, time was running out for us to escape with our lives.

Both of our headlamps had died in the span of an hour. The spells that had been cast to keep the candles inside alive were apparently defective. It was a shame we had paid so much for them. Fortunately, we had packed two spares each; but if they were all this faulty, it would only be a matter of time before we were left in the dark. Applejack continued to narrate the occasional story or two, but we kept the conversation balanced to avoid overwhelming one another. For the most part, we allowed our individual thoughts to fill our minds. Thoughts of relaxation. Thoughts of home. Thoughts of failure. Thoughts of regret. These thoughts engaged me, and these thoughts maddened me.

Up and down. Left and right. Back and forth. We had trodden in a never-ending circle. I was grateful salvation had come in the form of an undiscovered path, a route to hope, escape, and freedom from insanity.

“Do you ever wonder about the purpose of logic?” I asked, looking at Applejack.

“I can’t say I have. Why?” She raised an eyebrow in interest.

“Well, the way I see it, we spend so much of our lives trying to figure things out, understand why things work the way they do. Like…” I gestured to the rock around us, “Like this cave system. We can stare at it for hours; walk through chamber after chamber a million times. But the problem is, life’s so unpredictable. Things can change in an instant, a blink of an eye. And sometimes we confine ourselves in mazes that have no end. Not every problem is solvable, and nothing really runs entirely on logic. So, what, Applejack, what is the purpose of logic then?”

“I - ” she hesitated. “Well, I don’t know, Spike. That’s deep.” She chuckled. “I guess we just want things to work the way we expect ‘em to work. Some ponies don’t like surprises. Logic helps ‘em figure things out, lay it all down on a planner. But I guess … I guess it’s a lost cause sometimes.”

“Like trying to understand Pinkie Pie?”

“Yes, exactly like everything about Pinkie. Just doesn’t make sense. I guess that’s just the way it’s gotta be sometimes.”

We halted right in front of an enormous boulder, the path ahead blocked by the rock.

“Just doesn’t make sense…” AJ muttered.

“Should we turn around?” I asked, glancing behind us.

Applejack unfurled the map and surveyed it, frowning. “I don’t think that’s an option.”

“What do you mean?” I approached her to peer at the paper.

“This is the only way forward. If we go back, we’ll just be goin’ in circles again.”

“Great. How’d this thing even get here?”

Applejack scanned the area. “Hmm. Illogical.”

I walked up to the boulder and placed my hand on its surface. It was firm and cold, like a harsh rejection. I leaned against it, accepting the disdain.

“Maybe this is a sign. Maybe we’re supposed to be stuck in here forever.”

“That would be even more nonsensical,” Applejack said, moving to the left side of the boulder. “Maybe,” she grunted, beginning to apply pressure to the rock, “we should try … to force it out of the way.” She stopped to wipe away the sweat that coated her forehead. “Well, don’t just stand there, or we’re gonna be stuck in here for an eternity. Give me a hoof.”

“Right. Sorry, sorry.”

Together, we pushed. The boulder groaned and creaked but made no attempt to kindly move out of the way.

“Drat.” Applejack abandoned our efforts and sifted through the contents of her saddlebags.

“So, now what?”

“I’m looking for crowbar or somethin’,” Applejack replied, tossing a sack filled with something heavy to the side.

“We packed that?” I asked, bewildered.

“I might’ve. Ah, here it is.” Applejack yanked the object in question from one of the bag’s pockets and held it aloft. “Might do the trick.”

I frowned but remained quiet as Applejack fitted the crowbar’s flattened end beneath the rock. She retreated backward and then pounced on the bar, straining as she transferred all of her strength to the tool. The boulder lifted slowly but crashed back to the floor when Applejack ran out of energy.

I shook my head. “It’s too small.”

“I was worried about that,” Applejack said, sprawled out on the floor and panting.

I picked up the crowbar with my right hand. “If only it were bigger, or maybe if we had two or three. Did you bring more than one?”

“I wish I could say yes,” Applejack sighed, lifting her head slightly.

“There has to be a way to get around it,” I asserted. 

I ran a claw along the rock, chipping away tiny flakes of stone and dust. 

That gave me an idea. 

Enthralled, I retrieved the reference book from my backpack and flipped through the pages.

“Think of somethin’?” Applejack asked from her place on the floor.

“I just might have an idea…”

I scanned the book quickly, hoping to find the information I was looking for. I was nearing the end of the guide when I finally struck gold. The page displayed a picture of a pickaxe, beautifully gilded and bronze. I studied the words below in anticipation, biting my lip as I searched. As I came to the end of the section, my face broke into a smile. Satisfied, I closed the book’s cover and headed back to the boulder.

“I’m afraid I’m still clueless as to what you’ve got goin’ on there,” Applejack commented, now on all four hooves.

“Well, I was thinking, what if we break it open?”

Applejack glanced thoughtfully at the crowbar. “You know, it just might work. But how will we know where to strike? Hitting willy-nilly won’t get us anywhere.”

I grinned. “That’s why I got the book out. Lucky for us, they had some info on how to deal with obstructive rocks like this one.” I tapped the boulder with a claw. “There’s a specific part of it we should hit. Now, if we look closely…” I bent down to peer at the lower-mid section of the rock. “Right about here.” I pointed to a crack. “That’s what we’re aiming for.”

Applejack nodded, smiling smugly. “Good work, fella. I’ll take it from here.”

I handed her the crowbar and moved a good twenty feet or so away from the scene. Applejack twirled the bar with a hoof, concentrating on the crack I had indicated. Abruptly, she pounced, striking the metal precisely on the crevice. The thin line spread instantly across the rock, creeping and growing like a wildfire. Seconds later, the rock shattered, pieces tumbling to the ground helplessly in surrender. Dust clouded the air; but when the fog subsided, the space ahead shone brighter than the sun.

“Well, would ya look at that! We did it, Spike!” Applejack cheered.

“Looks like we can still make it out of here,” I added, my hopes rising. “And maybe still in time.”

“Of course, we can. It’s only been, what? Eight hours or so?”

“Well, it feels like forever,” I complained.

“That’s what time does to ya. We better get a move on.” Applejack strode through the newly formed gap, whistling brightly. “Come on, now.”

“Coming,” I called, placing the book back in my backpack. “I never thought I’d appreciate you so much,” I whispered, patting the cover lightly. “I’ll make sure to thank Twilight when I get back.” 

I hurried after her, only for the tome to slip from my pack’s largest pocket and clunk to the floor.

“Great.” I stooped to pick it back up, then noticed a gleaming object propped against the nearby wall. Intrigued, I reached for the mysterious item. It was spherical and seemed to pulsate with a powerful energy. The ball was large enough to occupy my entire palm and was surprisingly nearly as heavy as the book. 

“Woah,” I breathed. “Hey, Applejack! Check this out.”

There was no reply. No country-accented call. No stern reprimanding for dawdling. Not even the faintest whisper of a voice. Silence. Silence all around.

My heartbeat quickened in a flurry of anxiety. I rose to my feet. “Applejack?” I tried again, my voice cracking.

The darkness remained cold and soundless.

My body trembled. I ramped the dial on my headlamp up to the maximum level, ignoring the fact that I was wasting precious power. But even in the intense brightness, not a soul could be seen.

I was lost. And I was alone.





I didn’t pace. In fact, I stood perfectly still. My thoughts, however, catapulted through my mind at incredible speeds. So, I made to solve the problem. I took deep breaths, trying to slow things down. I didn’t think about time, and I didn’t think about danger. I didn’t even contemplate logic. In and out, all over again. Back to square one.

I could predict where she went. I clearly saw her exit through this way, so she undoubtedly moved forward. I took a few steps, unsure of whether my distracted, concussion-influenced brain was thinking rationally. Eventually, the desire to act won the tug-of-war match, and I proceeded in walking forward. Yes, I would most certainly find her.

I dimmed the brightness of my lamp. The cave had never seemed as foreboding as it did in these moments. The walls ensnared me, thinking they could finally seize me now that I was devoid of my pony companion. Alone. Lost and alone. I wouldn’t let them win though. No number of walls could hold Spike back.

I quickened my strides.

I would overcome the cave. Even if it meant it was a solo effort. I couldn’t bear the thought, but if Applejack somehow decided I had made it to the exit, or expected me to meet her there, I would have to finish the journey by myself. In the dark. But who was to say I couldn’t do it? Wasn’t there nothing Spike the Brave and Glorious couldn’t accomplish? I couldn’t be bested by a mere cavern. I wouldn’t allow it. With the bats. Not for the sake of my own good and reputation. And it wasn’t like I was unarmed. I had a reference book and … fire breath, a perfectly good weapon. Claws could prove useful too. I glanced down at my hands, cold and shaky. Only me and the unknown.

“Haven’t you been in a cave before, Mr. Dragon?” Applejack had said.

Some dragon I was. Scared of everything, and worse, unwilling to admit it.

Drip. 

I looked above my head, to the source of the noise. A lone stalactite hung above me, the tiniest trickle of water sliding down the surface.

Drip.

It made contact with the floor, which was home to a nice little pool of water that had managed to form there. Somehow, this evoked the slightest feeling of happiness within me. There was a shimmer of normality, a calm within the cave. I suddenly wasn’t alone. I’d stumbled upon a friend.

Slowly, I extended my palm out in front of me and gazed upward expectantly.

Drip.

The droplet descended onto my hand, falling with a soft splash. The water was cool, but in a relieving rather than overwhelming way. I rubbed it into my palm and along the back of my other hand. The wetness washed away the thin layer of dirt than had coated my hands, leaving me feeling, by some means, significantly cleaner. Fresher. Pure and immaculate. Maybe it had something to do with the water, which sparkled bright and blue like the river. Or perhaps it was just the effect of finding a ray of hope in the darkness. Either way, I was grateful for the solace.

I sat and rested for a while, piecing together a new plan. I began to wonder whether I should have remained where I was in the first place, back where I had found the gleaming ball (which was now nestled safely inside my backpack). Applejack might think to check the room, but it was less likely that she would come down the exact path I took from there. I had branched left at at least two intersections, hoping Applejack had made the same choices. I scolded myself for not making sure we had a plan for a situation like this. I felt like it was something Twilight had mentioned last night, but the memory had faded along with the years that had passed between then and now. The cave guides should have brought it up. There really was something peculiar about … well, everything about Blue Moon Cave. Thoughts of failure. Thoughts of regret. 

I sighed. This predicament was going to be difficult to work my way out of.

Out of the blue, I heard the faint sound of reverberating echoes. I lifted my head and strained my ears. 

Clip. Clop. Clip. Clop.

Could it really be? 

I sprang to my feet in delight. Yet I hesitated. 

But if it wasn’t?

“Spike?” a voice croaked.

It really was. It really was her.

“AJ?! Applejack?!” I called, the excitement in my voice undeniable.

Applejack approached from up ahead, her green eyes sparkling faintly. “Well, there you are. Been looking for you everywhere.”

I rushed to envelop her in a hug.

“You’ve got to stop gettin’ yourself separated from me.”

“I know. I know. I’m really sorry, I-”

“Whatever happened, it’s all right, and if anyone’s to blame, it’s me. I should’ve been keepin’ a closer eye on you. But it’s in the past now, and we learned somethin’ from this, right? What matters most is that we’re both safe.”

“Okay… I’m still sorry though. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I guess we learned that planning is good?” I flashed her a playful smile.

“Hmm, I wouldn’t put it that way. Everyone knows plannin’s a good thing. Maybe what you mean is that we’ve got to have good foresight about dangerous situations.”

“Isn’t that basically the same thing?”

“Didn’t I mention dangerous situations? We can’t plan for everything. That only makes you end up like Twilight.”

“Which I assume isn’t a good thing?”

“Course not. Especially if you want to have a lick of sense.”

We shared a laugh, the tenseness of the anxiety-filled atmosphere finally starting to dissipate.

“That was one of the longest hours of my life though. I’m really glad you found me.” I smiled warmly.

Applejack chuckled. “Spike, it’s only been fifteen minutes.”

“What? But – how?” I demanded, suddenly feeling frustrated.

Applejack wrapped a hoof around my shoulders, squeezing me tight. “Heh, heh. It’ll all be all right. Just got to stick together. I’ve got feeling we can more than make it out in time.”

“I second that,” I said, nodding firmly. “No more distractions, and definitely no more time refusing to work the way it’s supposed to.” I’m certain that wasn’t fifteen minutes.

“That’s what I like to here.”

As we huddled together, our lights slowly dimming and dwindling, I noticed Applejack shudder. I broke the hug to try to read her expression. Whatever happened, she quickly concealed her emotions.

“What was that?” I inquired, furrowing my eyebrows.

“Oh, nothing important. Just a thought,” she responded.

“Oh.” I was still skeptical about the matter, but I decided not to raise any more questions.

“What’s do you say to dinner?” she asked, a grin manifesting on her face.

“I think that’s a splendid idea,” I commented, performing my best imitation of Rarity.

“Really, now?”

“Are you kidding me? I’m starving! Obviously, it’s a good idea. When wouldn’t it be?”

“Huh, don’t know about that one.” She stifled a yawn. “When wouldn’t it be?” 





I spread my sleeping bag over a nice, dry section of ground. I’d always found it’s green and yellow polka-dot pattern appealing. Twilight gave it to me as a gift for my third birthday, right before we went camping to celebrate the occasion. The trip was terrible: the whole family had gotten an approximate one hundred mosquito bites, Dad somehow forgot to bring the food we had spent hours packing, and Twilight had scraped her knee and cried for at least an hour straight. Nonetheless, it was still one of my favorite possessions. It reminded me of home and adventure, more so Canterlot, my first home, than Ponyville. It’s rather strange that two contrasting things could both end up being regarded so fondly in my mind.

We had walked for another hour or so after dinner before finally deciding to call it a day. Applejack, assuming we were where she thought we were on the map, had proclaimed that we were at least halfway through the cave, which was satisfactory enough for the moment. I snuck a look at the mare in question before resuming my attempt to smoothen the sleeping bag’s wrinkles. Something had been amiss about her ever since she found me. She’d been shivering every now and then, yet the cave was no colder than it was when we entered this morning. Whenever I tried to ask her about it, she’d say it was anxiety, a hunch about something in the cave, or provide some other futile excuse. She had told me to quit worrying. How could I though, when I knew something was clearly wrong.

She was cold, that was certain. But, as to why? I couldn’t quite place my finger on it. It was impossible. Outside weather conditions didn’t affect the temperature down here. Twilight even said it before I left: the cave would stay at a constant temperature year-round. So, what was wrong? More than likely, she knew the answer. But, of course, she wouldn’t tell me. That was the nature of Applejack. She wasn’t one to tell a direct lie. But the way she beat around the bush was clever, as she often ended up both successfully avoiding the issue and obscuring her thoughts. Well, unfortunately for her, I wouldn’t let it happen tonight. Maybe she didn’t want to seem vulnerable, or possibly, she just didn’t want me to worry about her. Nevertheless, the game was over. At the very least, I’d turn the tables.  

I crawled over to where she sat, a relatively quiet figure for the better part of an hour. A foreleg cocooned her as she rubbed her eye with the other hoof. Exhaustion was another problem; she seemed to be growing more tired with every minute that went by. I suppose it wasn’t completely out of the ordinary for somepony to be tired in the late evening, but the gradual loss of strength had been happening for some time now.

“Applejack, seriously-” I began, looking her in the eye.

“Spike,” she interrupted bitterly, “I’ve told you a dozen times, and I don’t want to have to say it again.” 

“But-”

“For Celestia’s sake, I’m fine! What do you not understand about that?”

“You know what happened,” I said softly, my voice only barely audible.

Applejack blinked and stared at the ground for the moment. “W-well, do you know?”

“No,” I responded, clasping my hands together. “But I intend to find out.”

“You’re bein’ irrational. There ain’t nothin’ wrong, and that’s the end of it.”

“Well, we did say logic was pointless, didn’t we?” I countered, raising a smug eyebrow.

“We … did?” Applejack asked, confusion written all across her expression.

“Uh, yeah.” I frowned. “Did you hit your head?”

“I sure didn’t, but I know you did. How’re you feeling? I reckon you’re the one who’s ‘not fine’ instead of me.”

“Changing the subject won’t work, Applejack,” I said, shaking my head in disapproval. “I’m standing my ground.” Was I imagining things though? Maybe we should have taken my concussion more seriously after all.

AJ groaned. “Is this gonna go on all night?”

“Possibly, unless you fall asleep in the middle of it.”

“What? Now, who said anythin’ about bein’ tired?”

“I did, and honestly I’ve never seen you look so drained in my entire life.”

A sigh escaped her. “I guess I’ll keep denyin’ what you’re saying. Nothing else seems to do the trick.”

It had been like this over the course of the entire argument. Back and forth. Yes and no. Neither of us had been able to fully convince the other. Well, I’d just have to try a different approach.

“Applejack?”

“What now?”

“What was your coldest experience for today?”

“My coldest experience? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“At what point today did you feel the coldest?”

Applejack looked at me skeptically. “That’s an odd question.”

“It is,” I replied.

She didn’t respond at first. 

“Well?” I prodded.

“I guess it would be falling in that Blue Moon River.… Gosh, I got wet.”

Alarm bells blared in my ears.

“Oh, no.”

“What?” Applejack asked, looking genuinely worried.

I scrambled to the first-aid kit and extracted the thermometer from the bag. I returned to Applejack and immediately placed it on her forehead. She must have determined that there was no sense in arguing at this point since she remained quiet while I went through the procedure. The device beeped, signaling that I could check the reading.

My eyes widened in shock.

“How bad is it?” AJ’s voice was small and hesitant.

I grimaced. “96.8. … You have hypothermia.”

Silence infiltrated the room.

“I figured it was possible, but … I didn’t want to believe myself,” Applejack confessed guiltily. She sneezed, the echo sending a chill down my spine.

“But how? It’s been hours since you fell in.”

“Must be,” Applejack paused to shudder, “some magical effect of the water.”

“Why doesn’t anyone know about this? Don’t ponies know magically cursed things are extremely dangerous?” Or maybe someone does know… No one like a secret, especially when they aren’t one of the ponies who know about the truth. Lies can be even more deadly than magic.... 

“I’m not sure, Spike. But it’s another thing I’ll have to talk to the cave manager about. Uh, what was the first thing again?”

“The map, remember?” I explained, gesticulating. Another effect of hypothermia - memory loss. It too was beginning to affect her.

“Yes, right,” she affirmed, nodding. “I was gonna say that.”

I needed to make a decision, and Applejack wouldn’t be of much help at the moment. I gazed at the silver emergency button on my jacket. Everything could be resolved within an hour or two. Applejack would get medical help, we’d no longer be lost, and I’d finally get to rest and enjoy being at home again. All I had to do was end everything right here. Everything. Everything we had worked so hard to accomplish since 9 a.m. I glanced at Applejack. She’d closed her eyes and rested her chin on her knees, presumably deep in thought. Not asleep; definitely not asleep. … Hopefully not asleep, at least not yet. I thought about her for a moment; her at times when she was perfectly healthy. Applejack the farmer. Applejack the strong. Applejack the villain-conqueror. Applejack the loving. Applejack the valiant. Applejack the determined. Applejack the hero. Applejack the brave and glorious.

I thought about those characteristics and applied them to the current situation. She was more than worthy of so many titles, so much praise, and so many awards. A pony such us her couldn’t be matched by hypothermia, right? Accepting defeat would be a crime against her reputation and honor. A crime against herself. … And she wouldn’t be making the decision. I would be the one to blame.

I couldn’t let that happen.

So, even though she was currently incapable of instructing me, I would implement the unspoken favor.

I grabbed all the fabrics and warm layers we had packed and gave them to Applejack, who gratefully donned them. She looked like a multi-colored snowball, but at least she looked warm. Her shivering also subsided, so I took it as a sign that things would be okay. I lit one of our lanterns with my fire breath and placed it near Applejack’s sleeping bag. The thought of having fire as our backup option for light hadn’t even occurred to me until now. Albeit a late thought, it was a comforting one.

“Thank you, Spike,” Applejack breathed. “I don’t know what’d I’d do without you.”

“Just like you said,” I murmured, more to myself than her.

“Just like I said,” Applejack softly declared, smiling.

I lit a candle, deposited it into a jar, and placed a mug of hot chocolate over the container. At least, if it wasn’t the right thing, I felt like I was doing the right thing. It was at times like these that I felt more man than boy, and I was proud of that.

Once the drink heated to a considerable warmth, I handed it to Applejack for her to consume. She took a few sips, savoring the comfort that the warmth brought her. Within five minutes, the cup was empty, and AJ had nestled herself inside her sleeping bag.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be as fit as a…” She trailed off. “Better. I’ll be better in the morning.”

“I here ya. Just try to get some sleep, all right?”

Applejack didn’t formulate a reply as she drifted off into a fitful sleep.

I returned to my sleeping bag, decorated in green and yellow, and sank beneath its covers. I laid wide awake for a long time, thinking of the cold, unforgiving world, of peace, and of Applejack. 

Thoughts of regret… 

Eventually, the line between sleep and consciousnesses merged and blended, my eyelids growing heavier by the second. And thus, our first night inside Blue Moon Cave drew to a close, the sound of the nearby sparkling river playing a tune for my ears.
> Chapter 6: The Secrets Among Us
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I woke up with a start, the last remnants of a nightmare trickling from my mind. I stared into the darkness, panting heavily, sweat dripping from my body. 

Pain.

It was a dull one, to say the least, but still pain - a throbbing sensation that assaulted my skull every three heartbeats or so, each pulse making me grimace. I remembered the concussion, but it was merely a faint memory from years long past. I could barely grasp the concept of ‘yesterday’. 

They say sometimes you have to take a wrong turn to get to the right place. I concluded that the right place was anywhere other than where I was now. I’d been tricked, deceived, by happy-go-lucky ponies – my pegasus friend and a clan of dishonest cave guides. They’d all betrayed me; I’d thought I could put my trust in others. It was almost a trivial thing, to leave out those tiny details that nopony cared for. (On second thought, those ponies might care if those details happen to be the map of your entire cave system!) Yet the unconscious lies were catastrophic if the lives of the ponies on the receiving end were in danger because of them. Even worse was when lies unintentional were revealed to have dark intentions. 

They’d willingly, knowingly lured us underground … and plunged us into the deep.

A glance in Applejack’s direction confirmed that she was still asleep. I breathed deeply, trying desperately to clear the cold thoughts from my mind. But that was difficult considering the temperature of the area around me. 

Cold thoughts. Cold temperatures. Cold ponies. Cold actions. The whole world’s this way, I suppose. 

I peeled the sleeping bag from my wet scales and rose to my feet. I stretched and surveyed the room aimlessly: It was much too dark to see anything other than shadows. Nonetheless, sound was very much still present. I perked my ears, straining to listen to anything beyond the empty, astronomical silence. 

There. The sound of flowing water.

I hesitated, recalling that Blue Moon River was nearby where we had camped. I turned in the direction of the noise, hoping to locate the flowing water. To indulge in my curiosity would be a risk: I desperately wanted to see whether the sparkling river glowed at night. I had already deduced that it was magical – the prolonged period before Applejack finally started experiencing hypothermic symptoms could only be explained by an enchantment. Although, if it didn’t, and if I again found myself lost, the endeavor wouldn’t be worth the trouble.

But, then again, it would make a breath-taking photograph…

I strapped my headlamp to my head, taking note of, but not changing, the near-lusterless bulb inside. I fetched my backpack, just in case. Applejack wouldn’t be needing it anyway. Surveying the mare one last time, I started off. The walk wouldn’t be long. Besides, I wouldn’t be able to return to the realm of sleep anyway.





The thing about caves is that you never realize how alone you are until you’re by yourself. As I walked, I noticed that all I had to accompany me were my little light and the darkness. I wasn’t afraid though – I’d already had plenty of time to be. Fearing the unknown in those first few hours had left me with nothing else to fear. My adrenaline had been depleted, and yet, I concluded it was better that way.

I shuddered, futilely rubbing my arms. Sleeping had diffused all the warmth I had accumulated by moving around while we were awake. I exhaled a bright, gold flame of fire into the air in front of me. It chased away the darkness for a few fleeting moments before it dwindled away and was overtaken by the shadows. I sniffed the smoke and sneezed. The sound shattered the silence, and I winced as it echoed off every possible surface, likely stirring awake every slumbering creature in the cave. I growled in frustration. I had to be more careful. It was the little things that created big consequences.

The sound of rushing water grew louder as I turned left. Excitement overriding my irritation, I scampered down the corridor. I saw a flash of movement, this time right before my eyes rather than barely appearing out of a corner. Concern crept back into my mind. Was it really the shadow? If that was the case, there was no denying the fact that something truly was wrong with my vision. Twilight had always said I’d look even more handsome with glasses. I’ve never believed her. What would Rar- I mean, what would everyone think of me? Surely no true hero would need the aid of spectacles.

There was also the nagging, lingering possibility that it wasn’t my eyesight, which I should have been relieved about. Something could have been lurking in the shadows, waiting for just the right opportunity to ensnare me in its trap. One is always more vulnerable when they’re alone.

With my light continuing to fade, I crept along the edge of the wall. If there really was something searching for me, I wouldn’t make it easy for them. I spread my wings out for balance and pressed my body against the rock, my claws gliding along and searching for unexpected major bumps or crevices. A spider dashed across my hand.

“Or bugs,” I thought, shivering.

A faint blue glow appeared farther down the tunnel. I scurried faster, the river’s murmuring growing louder by the second. The light grew in intensity as I reached the end of the passage. I paused at the aperture, gazing at the brightness in awe. My claws gripped the edge of the wall, and I craned my neck slowly, ever so slowly, so that I could peer around the opening. I needed to ensure that there truly was nothing waiting for me. To my relief, I was greeted by open air … and the most breathtaking view I had seen in years.

The ground sloped sharply on two sides, forming a chasm in the cave chamber. Water cascaded through the fissure, a luminous blue ether surrounding the entire river. It flowed quickly, but it was just slow enough for one to consider it calm. Tiny white sparkles swayed in the air right above the water, dancing to the music made by the rushing streamflow. A slight breeze accompanied the moving water, giving the room a pleasant chill. I couldn’t unhinge my eyes from the phenomenon. It was simply magical.

Gradually, I worked my way down to the river, transfixed by its beauty. I nearly stumbled and fell in but was able to steady myself before that catastrophe occurred. I may very well have ended up like Applejack if I’d taken a swim. The thought of Applejack reminded me to take a picture of the river with my camera. I captured the scene beautifully, focusing on a particular part of the water but making sure to exemplify the radiance of the entire waterway. I smiled at the photo, knowing Twilight would be just as mesmerized by the sight.

For several minutes, I sat at the small riverbank and allowed the calm of the river to engulf me. I closed my eyes and listened to its steady flow and the quiet twinkling of the magic. It whispered warmly into my ears, like the soft words of a mother who kisses her children goodnight. I opened my eyes and watched ripples form and undulate on the surface of the water. Up and down. Up and down. Then they’d sway left a bit, and then some would drift to the right. They moved with the grace of practiced ballerinas, moving in sync with the whispers of the magic. The cool air widened my eyes and sharpened my senses. I felt electrified, galvanized, alive. Yet, I didn’t move. I couldn’t move. I was rooted to the ground. The air spoke to me in a whisper, yet I didn’t fight the calm. I listened, and I was filled with a sense of wonder and an overall understanding that I had never felt before.

Maybe the ponies in charge of the cave weren’t so bad. Maybe they purposefully left tourists to interpret and solve the labyrinth of tunnels and menacing hazards. That way, each and every individual could discover the masterpiece concealed within the cave walls. The magnificence of the river was hidden, but only to those who were blind. The ponies who were brave enough, sharp enough, strong enough – those were the ponies who would find this treasure. And only them … because it was a sight only for the worthy.

“Spike?” A sleepy voice asked.

Startled, I whirled around. Applejack stood behind me, worry evident on her face. She was equipped with her saddlebags, looking as if she was prepared to flee at any moment. Her hat sat crooked upon her head. She seemed concerned, and I immediately felt remorseful for slipping away from the chamber. On the bright side, her skin no longer looked as pallid as it did only hours before. She seemed stronger, much stronger, and I was relieved to see that.

“What the hay do you think you’re doing down here?”

“I could ask you the same question,” I responded, looking her over. “Aren’t you supposed to be asleep? You’re sick, remember?”

She snorted. “I’m fine. Again, why are you here? I’d like an answer this time.”

“I wanted to see the river,” I responded. Applejack’s eyebrows shot up. “No, no, no! Not touch the river, see the river.”

“Why?” She responded curtly. I could tell she wasn’t impressed.

“Seriously? I mean, just look at this view,” I said, gesturing to the water. “I got it on camera too; I can already see the collage we can make with all the photos I’ve taken of this place. And that,” I pointed to the water again, “will be the centerpiece. I mean, you’ve got to admit… Isn’t it just spectacular…?” 

Applejack glanced at Blue Moon River for a long moment and then shook her head vigorously, her eyes widening in alarm. 

“What’s wrong?” I asked, anxiety and a bit of doubt creeping into my voice.

“I – I…” Applejack stammered, seemingly appalled by the water. “There’s something wrong with it,” she breathed. She retreated backward slowly, eyes darting around the room. “It’s glimmering so fancily…”

“But that’s what makes it so amazing! Just take a moment to absorb it.”

“No! That’s exactly what it wants you to do. It’s deceiving you. There’s a trap in there. There’s no way … it can’t be right…”

“But–”,

“It’s evil. Polluted with darkness. The sight of it is…,” she trailed off shaking her head as if the world around her was a dream she could end voluntarily. “I, I…” 

I was thunderstruck by Applejack’s words. The river radiated peace and tranquility, not darkness. The water was so clear, its beauty so clear, and yet she proclaimed that it was contaminated, impure. She’d lost her mind.

“Evil? How could you say it’s evil?” I countered, anger bubbling within me as I stood up. “Just sit here with me for a moment. Watch! Listen! You’ll understand once you become one with it.”

Fear had overtaken her eyes. Pure raw, fear with nothing to hide. “Spike, you’ve got to listen to me! Legends have warned about a body of water just like this. I never even thought of it until now. It’s dangerous. Extremely dangerous. We’ve got to go. Quick. This is all my fault…”

I was furious. “What are you talking about?! Are you crazy? This is the one thing that unifies this entire cave system. It should be revered, and no number of fabricated legends will convince me otherwise.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “Don’t take this away from me.”

Applejack was on me in milliseconds. She wrestled me, trying to grab me, trying to gain control of me. 

She was going to take me away from the river. 

I fought back, twisting and turning every which way. Stopping her was of utmost importance. The river’s radiance was growing brighter by the second. It was hypnotizingly beautiful, but Applejack couldn’t see it. I needed to be back in its glory.

I snarled, raving with insanity. I pushed, shoved, and elbowed Applejack. She was stronger though, even with the lingering effects of her hypothermia. I could see that she was winning. The riverbank was getting farther and farther away.

I resorted to words. “Applejack, please!” I begged, thrashing even harder. “You have to let go of me. It needs me. It needs you. Please, Applejack, please! I have to return to it.”

Applejack gripped my shoulders, hard enough to make me cry out in pain. Her eyes bore into mine, staring straight through me and into my soul. I was terrified until I saw through her … and could see that she was only holding on to merely a thread of hope. 

“Remember the trickery, Spike. Remember the deceit. Remember the lies. Remember me. Remember what it did to me. It’s enchanted with dark magic. Don’t let it consume you. Don’t let them deceive you again.”

She was trying to save me. 

I fell into a deep, spiraling hole, everything within me dropping down one piece at a time. The river transformed into a sea, roaring now with great fury. The waves crashed upon us, showing no mercy for those unworthy of seeing the treasure. Calm turned to calamity, and what was tranquility became a storm. The violence clashed with what was left of my sanity, and my mind was caught in the crossfire. I began to blackout.

“No, Spike! Not now! We–” She pleaded, shaking me. Her words melted into silence. 

And then a blood-curdling scream resonated throughout the room.

It jolted me awake, denying the looming threat of unconsciousness. Applejack was the source of the cry, a hoof cupped over her mouth. She stared behind me in terror. I silenced the howling voices in my head and turned around, not wanting to believe Applejack’s reaction was justified.

Something arose from deep within the water. Something dark and shadowy, with steely, ice-blue eyes. Something the height of three Celestias, with a wispy, razor-sharp tail. Something that radiated coldness and had the most sinister of sinister expressions on its face. Something bad, something hideous, something horrible.

“Thieves,” it snarled, baring all three hundred of its polar-bear-white teeth.

Panic-stricken, I whipped around and made a beeline for one of the hallways. The aperture closed as an ice wall slammed down hairs away from my nose. I was hurled against it. A small stream of blood began to trickle from somewhere on my face. I couldn’t tell where. Everything was spinning again. 

The demon laughed deeply, but I could feel its glare freezing the scales on the back of my neck. 

It was too late. We had been sitting in the storm’s eye just moments ago, but now we were doomed to suffer because we didn’t move away from the peace.



It was all my fault, and that was clearer than Blue Moon River’s water.


 



 



 



 



 



 



 



 



 



 

> Chapter 7: Regret and Remorse; Forgiveness and Fate
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Applejack and I sat back to back, her hooves and my claws glued to the ground by ice. A ring of the freezing, transparent crystals bound us together and squeezed my arms uncomfortably. I wriggled a bit, fruitlessly trying to find some relief.

“Quit movin’,” Applejack whispered, flicking her eyes toward the monster. “Or it’ll decide to finish us off.”

I turned toward the thing, my skull throbbing with intensity. My concussion had worsened when I collided with the wall, and I was lucky to not have fainted again. Applejack was clearly anxious, but she was doing her best to stay calm because of me. I could see ideas running through her mind. None of them seemed to be what she was looking for.

“At last…” the thing breathed. The sound startled us, almost making me slam backward into Applejack.

It stared at us for a few moments, seeming to blink once, before chuckling. Its laughter eventually subsided, and silence took its place in resonating throughout the chamber. “You wicked ponies,” the thing growled after several unbearable seconds, its voice much deeper than the pitch of any stallion’s. One scream from it would surely burst anyone’s eardrums. “I’ve tried a thousand times to rid of your kind. So resilient you are. It’s unfathomable.” It paused. “But ever so naively foolish. Your demise is inevitable … and I will be the one to trigger it.”

The classic villain rambling. It was uncertain how long it (he?) would go on though. Applejack glanced in my direction, her eyes telling me everything I needed to know. She needed time to come up with a plan, and I would have to be the one to create that time.

“So,” I said, my voice cracking. The monster – he must’ve been a spirit of some sort – scowled at me. I tried again. “Who are you?”

He peered at me questioningly. “Of course, you don’t know.” He shook his head. “She’s been concealing my rightful power from the world all this time. Goodness, she’s been keeping secrets from her own subjects. Coward, she is, Celestia. I am Souse, king of the Equestrian seas. I was once the most powerful in the land, that is, before Bale the Brave cast a pathetic banishing spell on me. The depths of this river have been my prison for nearly a century. It’s only time I return to reinitiate my visions.”

“What visions?” I asked, my tone bolder. “I’ve seen a lot of creatures like you try and fail to claim Equestria, so you better have something decent planned.”

He scowled but continued with his monologue. “Ah, the days of long ago. I once had a cult of spirits – similar in appearance to me. We called ourselves ‘The Reservoir’. We had an amazing plan, something truly extraordinary. But old, troublesome Celestia had other ideas. Alas, we had no choice but to concoct a new plan. One that didn’t incorporate her wishes, simply because she was so obstinate…”

I snuck a look at Applejack. She rolled her eyes, and I resisted the urge to laugh. This would’ve been a good opportunity to escape. Things likely wouldn’t stay in our favor for long. If only that plan of hers would manifest itself…

“…We were going to wipe out all the terrestrial creatures in Equestria – “The Great Flood” was what we would have called it. The ocean truly deserved to rule the world. Regrettably, there was a spy among us, a spirit by the name of Gill. We had all been ponies before adopting our current form – it was an experience I’ve wiped almost entirely from my mind – but, alas, it seemed Gill never forewent his true nature. He was always a traitor in the making, albeit I never expected him to go as far as giving the Royal Guard a detailed report of our battle plans. …”

I scratched my head. An entire backstory was rather strange…

“But the point is, Gill’s betrayal led to both our defeat and our demise. My kin were destroyed, but unsurprisingly, I escaped … well, with a disappointing temporary banishment by that despicable Bale the Brave, in this very cave. But the details are terribly boring, and we don’t want you to get too comfortable now. Would we?” He sneered.

A few beads of sweat began to trickle down my forehead as Applejack shook her head just enough for me to notice. She needed more time, and time was beginning to tip out of our favor.

“Nope. Not at all,” I chuckled, giving him an uneasy grin.

The spirit smiled at nothing in particular, which made me all the more nervous. “Anyway,” he continued, “I’ve had plenty to do down here in the years that the spell’s effect began dwindling – roughly, what, three-hundred or so years ago? I’ve extended my magic out into your world to – how should I put this? … To get a sense of what’s happened over the years and to do a little … interacting here and there in undetectable ways – you know, with the population and just maybe with Celestia herself. No one suspected a thing.”

What would Twilight do in this situation? 

It was a hard question to answer, one I had been desperately trying to for the past few minutes. I needed a way to outsmart him, something I wasn’t sure I was capable of.

I nodded slowly. “Go on,” I prompted, all I could think of for the time being.

“But this past year has been the liveliest, and the most inspiring, of course. I could sense the power to break free growing within me day by day, by the hour even. With that power came more of my magical abilities. I … may or may not have followed a few ponies around the cave. I might have lingered in little corners or perhaps just above their heads, just enough for them to notice but never see. And when they did notice, I’d reel in my magic and disappear, and it would be as if nothing happened. A daydream, or maybe some sort of delusion, but never something. They, too, never suspected a thing.

“And then, I enchanted the river, just as a minor form of revenge on those guards’ descendants.”

Applejack’s eyes widened and narrowed within the span of half a second. I could see the rage burning inside her eyes and could nearly feel it melt the ice that burdened us. But I couldn’t let the thing see it. It would feed off of it, use it as a source of fuel for motivation to do whatever horrible deed it would inflict upon us … eventually. But more pressing was the fact that it would provoke it to act as quickly as possible. That was something I couldn’t allow. It was the one thing we had to avoid. I numbered the seconds we had left to do something, anything, to get out of our situation. I guessed somewhere around 180, and the number was only growing smaller. 

I turned and thrust my wing sideways to shield AJ’s face. I whacked it lightly and leaned backward to make it seem as if I had somehow slipped within the tight hold of the ice around us. A good pinch ensured that she got the message. She scowled, but her anger was now directed at me rather than the spirit.

165 … 164 … 163.

I recalled something the thing had said about following ponies around the cave. Something about noticing without seeing. The strange shadows slithered back into my mind, foggy, clouded thoughts that were smothered in an additional layer of haze. Suddenly, an explanation for the inexplicable came to light.

“It was you…” My voice was barely a whisper.

“Yes, it was me, little dragon fool. There was something unusual about you and your pony friend. Something … inexplicable, wouldn’t you say?” 

His glittering diamond teeth made my head ring with pain. The little advantage we had was slipping like sand between my claws.

“I knew you were special, so I had to be vigilant. After all, I couldn’t let two of Equestria’s protectors get away if you discovered my secret.” 

How did he know?

“I kept a very close eye on you and made things as difficult as possible. I was so close to freedom, with the spell withering away to nothingness and only hours to go before it completely faded. All I had to do was lure you here to save us all some trouble. I tinkered with your mind, controlling your thoughts, feelings, and your every move. The river is irresistibly beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Varmint,” Applejack spat, the word filled with the venom of an army of cobras.

“No…” I couldn’t breathe.

“Yes…” He hissed. “Yes. Yes! Enough about myself. The time has come, pony and dragon. I’ve endured your game of aversion long enough. How dare you consider me that incompetent? The time has come for the reign of a new king! The time has come for The Great Flood of the Celestial Sea! The time has come for the end of the pony race! Now and forever, the ocean will rule the world, and sadly for you, the first to go stand in this very chamber.”

3 … 2 … 1.

The steam that filled the room was unbearably thick, dense, and hot. I coughed as it spread from the river toward where we sat, chained and helpless.

“Fire, Spike. Quick.” Applejack ordered, not taking her eyes off the thick billowing clouds.

I mustered the strength and resolve left within me and summoned my flames from their chambers. Gold and ruby flashed across white and blue. The ice melted quickly, becoming a cold pool of water in my lap. Applejack leapt to her hooves, instantly tearing open her saddlebags. The spirit tormented us by pushing the steam dangerously close before slowing the movement of the clouds and drawing them back, only to start the process again, the gap between us and the fog becoming smaller each time. 

She withdrew an arrow, a long piece of silver wood with miniscule runes etched over the entire surface. The head was sharpened cleanly and almost glinted against the white and blue around us.

“I’ve only got 5,” Applejack said, eyes darting up toward the spirit. I nodded, still trying to process the situation.

A bow quickly complimented the arrow. Laying on her stomach, Applejack fitted the arrow on the bow and slowly pulled the shaft backward. She took a deep breath, something resembling doubt submerged beneath the oceans of white reflected in her eyes.

She fired.





A pony, or dragon in my case, can learn many things when dealing with evil lunatics, especially when you’re confronting them once every month or so. 

A. You figure out what works very quickly. Like Applejack’s arrows … they were virtually useless. The magnificently sharp tips did nothing but shatter against the cave walls after they soared through the spirit’s hollow form. Nevertheless, she, as stubborn as that mare is, continued to use them. The first was on target but caused no harm, as I described. The second missed completely. I watched a third and fourth go by, piercing air and nothing more. She held the fifth and final arrow in hoof, twirling it around and around as if it were one of those dragonfly toys. She stared through the steam, watching and waiting as if it would make the decision for her.

B. You learn never to stand in one place for too long – as Applejack was doing. Lucky for her, she wasn’t the spirit’s target. My wings ached, the pain from the previous day’s travels flooding back to them in a tidal wave. My throat burned from constantly using my fire breath. Steam cascaded over me, stinging my eyes and burning my lungs. Somehow, it wasn’t as hot as I anticipated. Rather, it was a chilling fog – if that makes sense – but one that burned, nonetheless. Shards of ice penetrated the mist every now and then, only narrowly missing my wings or tail, yet I could hear them grating on my scales. It was a battle between fire and ice … well, that and the occasional arrow.

We were losing terribly, and defeat seemed to be imminent. I didn’t know how long it would be before I’d collapse. I gagged and gasped for breath every second I could, my eyes watering, distorting my vision. Applejack, still holding the lone arrow, disappeared beneath the white clouds. I swooped to the ground, hoping the thing wouldn’t be able to see me there either.

C. You learn to never give up. There was so much pitted against us at the moment, but even though I had retreated, I wasn’t planning on sitting and waiting for what would be inevitable doom. I could see Applejack was thinking the same thing. She had positioned the arrow on the bow, breathing deeply and squinting through the fog.

“You’re gonna do it?” I panted, flying up to her side.

Applejack sighed. Sweat poured down her face, plastering her mane to her forehead. She jerked her head to the left to toss her hat to the ground, useless now in the oppressive atmosphere. 

“This one’s enchanted,” she said, eyeing it cautiously, “from a long time ago. Got only a few of these back on the farm – maybe six or so. I take one when I can. Just in case.” A thunderous boom rolled through the cave. “I think now qualifies for ‘in case’.”

“Yeah,” I nodded, now joining her in squinting. The steam only seemed to grow denser. I wheezed, and Applejack shot me a worried look. She drew the arrow backward in resolution.

“Wait,” I rasped.

“What?” The arrow paused. She moved it away from the bow, releasing the tension with a ‘twang’.

“What happens if it hits it and whatever spell’s on it works?”

Applejack shook her head slowly. “Guess we’ll find out.”

“You mean you don’t know?”

“‘Course not. What do you think I am, a prophesier?”

I ignored her sarcasm. “But what if it backfires? We’ll be toast. We’re already almost out of options. If things get worse-”

“Almost out of options doesn’t mean we are, Spike. It’s worth a shot. We don’t have time nor a choice.”

I held my breath as she repositioned the arrow. She again laid on her stomach, eyeing the target with precision. 

“Yeah, you’re right…” I said. “Go ahead.”

For a moment, she pondered over my change of thought. Nonetheless, she nodded without a word to acknowledge my command. With a final deep breath and a whisper of prayer, she set it free.

The crash of thunder at that exact moment nearly burst my eardrums and sent me keeling teary-eyed on the floor. I heard Applejack cry out in pain, a desperate plea for mercy. My concussion made itself known again very quickly, sending a reverberating pulsation throughout my skull along with a brilliant flash of white. The monster cackled sinisterly, sending a layer of ice slithering toward us on the ground.

Applejack’s bow had snapped.

I don’t know what caused it to break. The most plausible explanation was the thunderclap. Yet, it could have been anything: Wear and tear on the bow finally doing its worst, a magic spell the spirit had cast, torquing the string out of alignment… Maybe even a combination of these things.  

Through my blurry vision, I saw the arrow shoot upward, ricochet off a stalactite, and (miraculously, still in one piece) slam into my backpack. The combined force of the arrow’s hit and the thunderclap sent the bag skidding across the ice. I watched it slide, smoothly and gracefully, spinning toward me with the speed of a bullet traveling the distance of a light year. I was still laying down, tears now flowing down my face, as the momentum carrying the bag died a mere few hoofsteps away from me. A familiar glowing orb rolled out of it, radiant and blue and pulsating brighter than anything in the cave. I overcame the initial blindness it subjected my eyes to and gaped in disbelief.

I stared at it, its bright colors beckoning me in an ineffable wave of warmth. The radiating energy engulfed me, rejuvenating me with unimaginable strength and vigor. I extended a grasping hand, an overwhelming wave of déjà vu flooding my mind. I clutched it tightly, instinctively, closing my eyes and pouring every ounce of my heart and soul into that gleaming ball.

I rose to my feat, newfound courage present within me. I held the ball aloft, and the clouds scampered away in fear. Only the frigid air stood between me and the monster. He narrowed his eyes menacingly, but I held my ground and continued to stare him down.

“You–” he snarled.

“SILENCE!!” My voice reverberated commandingly throughout the room, cutting him off without a second thought.

The spirit narrowed his eyes, drawing backward with a menacing hiss. His glare was filled with fire, a stark contrast to the white of the fog that filled the room and the bright blue of the ice that lined the floor and walls. His magic prepared yet another wave of the suffocating white, but he froze in horror before it could be unleashed.

“The Anchor….” His words were almost inaudible.

I brought the ball he was referring to to my chest and clutched it with both claws. A dumbfounded Applejack watched as the orb pulsated faster within my grasp. A smirk manifested upon my face as the spirit could only quiver in trepidation.

“I can’t… How did you…?! This, this can’t be…”

My eyes sparkled in triumph. “Yes, it can. And yes, it must.”

The thousand thoughts that flew through my mind dissipated in the seconds that the thing’s form and magic contorted violently, expressions and sparks of energy changing and flashing like a firework show – one whose rockets would ultimately fire toward us. Calmness and resolve replaced fear and doubt as my thoughts oriented toward one goal.

But in the seconds before that calm, I’d thought about how something as simple as a dare could result in a perilous situation where the fate of Equestria yet again hung in the balance. A situation where lives were at risk. A situation where time favored the enemy. A situation where water and ice intended to kill. A dare created a battle between good and evil – a battle in which only one side could prevail. Time and again we had prevailed, but the power to succeed now rested solely in my claws….

I’d received a burst of intuition in the moments when the mysterious ball came rolling to my side – a flash of information without reasoning that I’d accepted with wholehearted gratitude. ‘The Anchor’ – as it was called – was something Bale the Brave had crafted to banish the spirit. Over a long, brutal millennium it had found its way to this cave … and to me. The initial magic was still present within it – just enough to finish the job permanently, with the addition of something special…

Yet I’d thought about whether this power had been bestowed upon me deliberately or coincidentally. Why I had stopped out of curiosity to retrieve the ball was a question I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t perceive why it just so happened that something with so much power had somehow fallen in my hands. Why not in the strong hooves of Applejack? Why not in the shrewd hooves of Twilight? Why not in the valiant hooves of Rainbow Dash, even? Frankly, why in my awkward, inept, inexperienced hands? Why had the opportunity come to me and not to someone else?

Yet perhaps … perhaps it had caught my eye for a purpose. Perhaps it wasn’t some mistake or stroke of unfortunate luck. The brilliantly gleaming orb was calling me, and I felt destined to answer it, despite my doubts about why it had chosen me. After all, I knew of its purpose and how to use it the moment my eyes detected it ever so fatefully and faithfully rolling out of my bag. All that mattered was that it was in the right time and place for its service. Deep down, I knew I needed to execute that service.

I’d thought about duty and responsibility. Throughout nearly the entire trip, I’d doubted and questioned myself: I’d wondered why I had volunteered to accompany Applejack on such a frivolous expedition. I’d asked myself time and again to think like someone else – to be someone else. Problems had come my way, and I’d placed the blame on myself when I made the wrong decisions. I’d tried and failed in so many ways, and worst of all, I saw my mission to protect Applejack crumble before my eyes. 

I knew I wasn’t a failure. 

I knew I wasn’t a disgrace. 

An underachiever. 

A loser. 

A disappointment.

A nobody…

I wasn’t any of those things. No matter how often one of these titles would peek through the door to my mind when defeat and disaster swept me off my feet, I knew I wasn’t a failure. Twilight knew that. My friends knew that. Even Equestria knew. For the first time, I understood that my lack of success wasn’t the enemy, it was my tendency to regard myself negatively when it appeared that I was the problem.

For long enough, I’d wondered whether I was enough … whether I was worthy. I’d pondered over whether I deserved the title of ‘The Brave and Glorious’, whether I deserved to be known as one of Equestria’s saviors. … Whether I deserved to have the friends that I do.

I’d watched as the spirit shook and twisted uncontrollably, an implosion or explosion gradually seeming more and more inevitable. His only emotions were raw anger, and most significantly, fear. I’d seen that fear countless times, and it was a fear that I had helped my friends incite within countless individuals. I was reminded of the remarkable things I’d done in my time.

I thought back to when I used the crystal heart against King Sombra. Twilight believed in me, and that faith and trust instilled the drive within me that I needed to fulfill my duty. I remembered the terror that had inflicted me as I scaled down the formidable crystals surrounding the castle. I remembered the horrifying and helpless feeling of spiraling through the air, the crystal of love and light just out of my arms’ reach. Despite the odds pitted against me, I came through (with Princess Cadance’s help of course) and delivered the heart to the desperate crystal ponies below in the nick of time. Twilight believed in me, and I didn’t let her down.

Sometimes luck wouldn’t be on my side or I’d make the wrong decision, but my friends would always be there to support me. I realized that bad things happened, but I’d never truly be the best version of Spike if I didn’t forgive myself and try to rectify my mistakes.

I remembered why I had come along with Applejack in the first place. We promised to protect each other, and I intended to stick to that promise. She played her part by saving me from an avalanche and luring me away from the river. Now I’d return the favor by heeding to my duty and responsibility – orchestrating the fall of “The Reservoir” (as the thing had called it), and for good this time. Duty and fate. They go hoof in hoof, you know.

So, just as the ball had chosen me … just as Twilight had chosen me, it was finally time for me to choose myself…





Back in the present, I breathed deeply as the spirit gained control of himself. Although he no longer convulsed, he hissed madly, seeming ready to strike at Applejack and I at a moment’s notice. He conjured a ball of energy above his head, growing rapidly in power and intensity. I held the ball aloft in front of me, gritting my teeth as a foreign power began to consume it as well.

“STOP!” He boomed. Wrath filled his voice, but his eyes told a different tale.

I went on, unperturbed.


“Wretched fool.” I began, the words feeling as if they were coming from both myself and someone else. The feeling was soothing though, almost natural.

“In the haven of Equestria your schemes have no place.”

“Wickedness and evil will never extinguish the pony race.”

“The Anchor has returned to a fellow lionheart, and now punishment you will reap.”

“I cast you back where you belong, fallen spirit … into the deep.”



A flash of lightening erupted from the sphere within my claws, aimed directly at the monstrosity. The spirit howled as the bolt struck and electrocuted him, sending him jerking and contracting once more. His screams, almost heart-rending, pierced through the air as his form withered and collapsed. The Anchor then carried out its duty, hauling him down into the river slowly, just as a ship would sink beneath the waves on its last journey. The descent took several, long, near-unbearable seconds, the spirit only growing weaker as time passed. In its final seconds, it gazed at me. It was a blank, lifeless stare, one that had been drained of all its hatred and ferocity.

I stared back. “Now and forever.” I said, softly, my words almost a whisper. “Now and forever you’ll be lost to the world. Your shadows will never haunt us.”

D. You learn to believe in miracles. Anything can happen in Equestria. The perfect opportunity will come, and if you’re patient, if you’re resilient … if you believe in yourself, good things might happen for you.

No reply came, only the sound of bubbling water as the spirit sank beneath Blue Moon River.

The water sparkled faintly, in an almost teasing, pleasant manner, before it too faded away.

A majestic silence reverberated throughout the cave.

All was well for the first time this night.
> Chapter 8: The End of a Journey
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I opened my eyes groggily, flinching as a spike of pain reverberated throughout my skull. I closed my eyes and was filled with a sense of déjà vu, vaguely remembering myself experiencing the same struggle against consciousness some time ago. I was left to make sense of the world around me in the dark. The ground was cool against my back and I could hear the trickling of water from somewhere nearby.

I struggled to remember what I had done last, or where I even was for that matter. My memories were fuzzy, my pounding headache not making it any easier to clear the haze around them.

“Spike?” I heard the sound from somewhere above me. The voice was amplified by the new speakers in my head.

“Uggghhh…. stop yelling … please.”

A laugh. “I’m not yelling, Spike.”

I began to recognize the voice as Applejack’s. I cracked open an eye, fearful of being assaulted by pain again. Relieved to find that I was being spared for the moment, I blinked to clear away the blurriness obstructing my view. 

Applejack was smiling down at me, a first-aid kit in hoof. “I was wondering when you’d come to.”

“Huh?”

Slowly, she helped me sit up, being careful not to jostle my head.

“You were out for a good few hours. At least two or three. I’ve been patchin’ your head up for some time now. Was beginnin’ to think I’d run out of bandages.”

“Oh,” I mumbled, “Oh, oh! Right! My concussion…”

“Yeah. You all right, there, fella?”

Gingerly, I placed a hand on my head, grimacing as I examined the steady throbbing, pulsating incessantly like a heartbeat. 

“I … think so. What were we doing earlier?” I gazed up at her, frowning.

She blinked. “Uh, you snuck away from our campsite, came out here to the river, then said some downright crazy stuff about how beautiful it was. Then, we got attacked by some spirit thing and you, uh…. Well, I’m not too sure what you did.” She scratched her head, which was now devoid of her hat.

It was my turn to blink, but I didn’t have to wait long for the gears to begin turning in my head.

“Right, right! The Anchor!”

“The what, now?”

“The Anchor,” I reiterated, smiling at the farmer. “It’s this magical artifact shaped like an orb. I found it when we demolished that giant boulder in the tunnels. Bale the Brave used it to banish Souse – uh, the spirit – over a thousand years ago. It somehow rolled its way over here.” I shrugged. “I guess we were just lucky enough to find it.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow. “Uh, okay… And how do you know all that?”

“Honestly, I don’t even know. Just … somehow, I feel like this was all meant to be. It’s as if the Anchor purposefully caught my attention back there, knowing we’d need it to potentially save the world again. I think this was destined to happen. It – it chose me, somehow, to wield it during a great time of need. At first, I was unsure of whether that was really true, but the more I thought about how I knew exactly how to use it … about how it was calling out to me … it all made sense.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Huh. Well, that’s – strange … is the only way I can put it. I guess we already learned logic is pointless though, right?” She smiled, giving me a wink.

“Right.” I smiled back, the pain in my skull dissipating somewhat.

“Whatever you did do, I’m mighty proud of you Spike,” she said, clapping me on the back. “I was beginning to lose some faith, honestly. My tools and strength can only do so much, and I wanted to do everything I could to protect you.” A distant look came over her. “…Funny how it was you who protected me in the end.”

“Maybe,” I said, shaking my head. “But I definitely wouldn’t have been able to do it without you. Going on the trip with you in the first place was what helped me use it the way I did. You gave me confidence, something I’ve been lacking a lot over the past 24 hours.”

“Aw, shucks. Well, I’m glad you were able to pull us through.”

“Me too. I can’t imagine what would have happened if we didn’t have the Anchor with us.” I shuddered, trying to dispel the various scenarios my mind had disobediently conjured. “Uh, what do we do now, though?”

“Well…” she began, trailing off as her eyes scanned the room. “I’m not entirely sure, to be honest. I just started figurin’ out that map yesterday. I’m thinkin’ we should try to get out of here as fast as possible.”

“Agreed,” I said, nodding vigorously, before grimacing and wrapping my arms around me head.

“Told you we should have gone home earlier,” Applejack sighed, shaking her head without a trace of pain. Lucky. “I’m worried about you. I’m not sure you can make it much farther in your condition. You need a doctor, faster than Granny Smith can whip up an apple crisp.”

“I guess you’re right…. But that doesn’t change what we have to deal with now. We’re not going to get a doctor here, and there’s no way we’re heading back to the mouth now. We’ve gotta keep going the way we were going last night. I know we’re close to the exit, I can feel it.”

She frowned, scrutinizing my bandages. Eventually, she seemingly gave up on whatever she was debating about, succumbing to a sigh and another shake of her head.

“Fair point. Let’s get a move on.”

“Wait.”

“Yes?”

“Where’s your hat?” I pointed to her exposed head.

She looked up at the bare spot, her eyes crossing in the process. “Darn…”

I chuckled at her antics.

“Must’ve lost it in the fray,” she admitted. Her eyes scanned the bare chamber, but her characteristic hat was nowhere to be seen.

I followed her eyes’ movement. “Where do you think it could be?”

She strolled forward, grunting. “Dunno. Hope we don’t have to spend too long looking for it though.”

“Me neither…”

We spent the next ten minutes – far longer than either of us would have liked – searching the area. We looked high and low, from the stalactites to the stalagmites, but there was no sign of it anywhere. I was beginning to think the hunt was a lost cause, although I didn’t want to disappoint Applejack … not when her hat meant so much to her.

It’s not like she would listen to me anyway. That mare’s more stubborn than a pack of mules.

I spotted her on the other side of the river, scouring the space for the brown accessory which was bound to be hidden somewhere among the brown rocks. She came to a sudden stop, bending over to peer at something I couldn’t see.

“Did you find something, Applejack?”

“Yep, found it.”

I flew over to her, relief washing over me. That sense of reassurance only lasted until I saw precisely where the hat was. It laid – wet and wrinkled – alongside a rock, half of it submerged beneath the water. Said water still sparkled mischievously, the sight making me nauseous as unpleasant memories came flooding back.

“Wonder how it got all the way over here…,” Applejack muttered before stooping again to pick it up with her mouth.

“Wait, wait. Stop.”

“What, Spike?” Her tone was one of exasperation. I winced, knowing I’d already made her hesitate enough times on this journey.

I pointed at the hat. “It’s touching the water. See? Remember what happened the last time you got wet?”

Applejack raised an eyebrow for a moment, seemingly confused, before shuddering as the memory surfaced. “Th-that’s gotta be different though. I fell in last time. I’m sure the effects won’t be the same if I’m just touchin’ it for a bit.”

“But you won’t be ‘touching it for a bit’ if you wear it. It’s soaked, Applejack. It’s essentially the same as sticking your head in the river for a few hours.”

The farmer shook her head. “You’re just bein’ paranoid. Everything’ll be fine. Trust me, alright?”

“How can you say that though?! You’re taking a risk that we don’t need to take! Not after everything we’ve been through!”

“Spike! I said just trust me!” 

The fire in her eyes halted my reply. I swallowed a lump that had formed in my throat, resigning to a reluctant nod.

She sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Sorry…”

“No, it’s okay,” I said, my voice lacking the zeal it had had mere moments before. My back thumped against a pillar; my hands clasped in front of me. “You’re just trying to keep me from worrying. … I’m sorry for doubting you.”

Applejack smiled, albeit the gesture was strained. She placed a firm hoof on my shoulder. “How ‘bout we get a move on now, huh?”

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

With that, we gathered the remainder of our things – my backpack, the first aid kit, and all our other supplies which AJ had hauled back from our overnight campsite while I was unconscious – and departed through the aperture that had been blocked during our battle with Souse.





The walk was painfully silent. The only audible noises were the scurrying of creatures throughout the cave, the dripping of water from stalactites, and the clacking of our hooves and claws against the stone floor. Scratch. Drip. Clack. Scratch. Drip. Clack. The stillness of our voices only amplified these sounds, creating a maddening cacophony of continuous noise that threatened to swallow my mind.

The silence reminded me of how I’d made an unjust point about Applejack’s storytelling the day before. I audaciously elected not to tell her about a stalactite before she bumped into it, using her ramblings as an excuse for my ill behavior. I winced as I remembered the painful period of silence my actions had caused, a silence that was not unlike this one. That silence was coupled with feelings of self-doubt and self-reproach. Just hours ago, those feelings and insecurities were only a reminder of the never-ending war of confidence being waged in my mind. 

But that war was over. I ended it the moment I accepted that I was worthy of being Spike – a conqueror, an achiever, and a hero. 

And since I wasn’t the same dragon I was yesterday, I intended to do something about the déjà vu-like silence, even if it meant Applejack wouldn’t be too happy about what I had to say.

“Applejack, hear me out.”

She sighed, ducking below a low overhang. “What now?”

“I know you love your hat – a lot – and I’m not trying to offend you or anything,” I said slowly, holding my palms up in a placating gesture, “but…”

“But what?” She frowned.

I exhaled. “But I don’t think you should be wearing it. Like I said before, we don’t know what sort of effects it’ll have. Even if nothing happens, it’s better to be safe than sorry. I’m not saying we should ditch it or anything like that, but maybe – maybe let’s leave it in your saddlebags for a while, at least until it’s dry.”

Applejack pondered over my words, visibly tossing and turning them around in her head while continuing to maneuver through the cave’s never-ending obstacle course. I waited patiently for a response, looking up at her while fiddling with my headlamp. As if on cue, it promptly flickered before sputtering out.

Her frown deepened. 

“That leaves us with only yours,” I gestured to the light source affixed to her head, “and the flashlight.”

She must have noticed my solemn mood, as she was quick to surrender her stubborn ways. 

She sighed, hanging her head low. “I’m sorry, Spike. I just … caught carried away – again. You’re absolutely right. There ain’t much of a good reason for me to wearing it.”

“Don’t feel bad.” I patted her on the shoulder. “You’re just – uh, firm in your beliefs.”

“I like being right, Spike. Everyone does. But I guess when ya ignore others’ ideas, your ideas end up losing their truth. Then you just end up makin’ a fool of yourself rather than a rational argument.”

I laughed, imagining Twilight during some of her academic debates. “You’re not wrong.”

She removed her hat gingerly, as if it would fall apart if she handled it the wrong way. “Suppose I won’t have anythin’ to keep my head warm now.”

“Really? A wet hat kept your head warm?”

Applejack grunted. “You know what I mean.”

“I don’t. I really don’t.”

She snorted, placing the hat in a designated spot in her saddlebags while simultaneously pulling the map out once again.

“I’m not too sure how we go on from here.”

I readjusted the load on my back. “Really? We were moving just fine before I stopped us.”

“See, there’s this fork, a dip, and then some sort of tunnel. But before all that we should’ve seen this here boulder first. Actually, there’s two. One right about where we’re standing.” She pointed to the spot on the map. “And one a little ways back. About 30 or so yards from where we camped yesterday.”

“Okay, and?” I scratched my head.

“Well, that’s just it. We should’ve seen the first one already, and I don’t see the second anywhere ‘round here. ‘Cause we didn’t see ‘em, I’m not sure if we took the right passage after dinner.”

I deflated. “Seriously? Dinner?! We could be way off course then!”

“I know,” she resigned. “I’m positive it looked like the right way.” She held the map directly above her headlamp. “I mean just look at those bends. I’m sure we walked through those. That’s why I didn’t bring up anything ‘till now.”

“So, why haven’t we seen those boulders?” I asked, more to myself than Applejack. I was perplexed. Surely, they hadn’t just disappeared.

“Boulders, you say?” A new voice called.

I nearly jumped out of my skin, my heart racing as my eyes searched frantically for the sound’s owner.

From around the corner a teal glow appeared, followed by a purple and similarly teal colored mane. The full pony soon emerged from the shadows, revealing herself to be none other than Starlight Glimmer.

“Starlight?” I said, scratching my head.

“And THE GREAT AND POWERFUL TRIXIE!”

“Trixie, what did I tell you?! We have to be quiet down here. There are bats, remember?”

Trixie shuddered. “Yes, Trixie knows that. But she doesn’t appreciate not being recognized.”

“Well, we didn’t know either of you were here,” Applejack reasoned, stepping closer. “What in tarnation are y’all doing anyway?”

“Exploring,” Starlight said, smiling. “What else? We heard about the new cave and thought it’d be something fun we could do together.”

“Although it’s been more exhausting than fun, if you ask me,” Trixie sighed, tugging a stray strand of hair from her rugged mane.

“Yeah, we’ve had some … difficulties,” Starlight coughed into her hoof, “namely bats. But, how has your adventure been?”

Applejack and I shared a glance. “It’s been a trip, that’s for sure.”

“Rockslide, near-drowning experience, hypothermia, bats too….” I list things off my claws. “Oh! You didn’t happen to see a great big, aquatic spirit thingy, did you?” I asked.

Trixie blinked. “Say what now?”

“Yeah, they didn’t see it,” Applejack deadpanned.

“Long story,” I said, dismissing their confused looks with a wave of my hand. “I’ll tell you later.”

“The main problem we’ve had is getting lost.” Applejack hoofed Starlight the map. “Haven’t been able to make too much sense of this here map. Thought we were making some progress recently, but we seem to have missed two boulders.”

Starlight scanned the map briefly. “Hmm. We were just on that route a little while ago and we didn’t see any boulders.”

“For Celestia’s sake, whoever drew these maps needs to be fired and relearn geography,” Trixie said, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, they’re quite the deception trick,” Starlight commented, giving the map back to Applejack. “Lucky for us, I was able to trace the way out last night.” Starlight produced a map of her own, accentuated with pink-colored pencil markings.

I got a closer look. “No way!”

Applejack was just as dumbfounded. “How--?”

“Excellent maze-solving skills and some echolocation magic. Wasn’t too difficult.”

Trixie snorted. “Says the pony who stayed up all night muttering to herself while doing it.”

“You shush.”

Applejack chuckled. “All right, we better get a move on then. Shall we? I reckon neither of y’all want to be in this cave any longer than Spike and I do.”

“Not a chance,” Trixie assented.

“Everypony,” Starlight smiled in my direction, “and dragon, follow me. We should be out of here within an hour or two.”

With that, we strutted out of the passageway we had inadvertently communed in, our steps in tune with the water dripping from the stalactites. 









We walked for roughly a little over an hour, enjoying idle conversation, a late breakfast, and intervals of comfortable silence. Starlight’s map was faring us well so far, something Applejack and I took relief in.

Before long, we came to a wall of writing engraved in rock, not unlike the runes we had seen earlier on our journey.

“Look, Applejack. The runes! There’s more!” I exclaimed, pointing at the strange drawings. However, this time, there was only one distinguishable pattern. It sat in the middle of the wall, larger and bolder than the smaller scribblings around it.

“You’re right, Spike. There they are again. Y’all come across these?” She asked Starlight, who was beside her.

She shook her head. “I didn’t see them anywhere. Trixie?”

“Nnhm.” She too shook head to indicate that she had not.

“That’s strange.” Applejack raised her eyebrow. “We passed a whole hallway of them. Guess the cave’s bigger than we thought.”

Trixie outstretched a hoof to gently feel one of the runes grooves. “Gah, it’s cold!”

A second later, it and the runes around it lit up in a deep, shimmering blue. Steadily, they grew brighter and brighter. All of a sudden, a rumble could be heard beneath our hooves and claws.

“W-what’s that?” I asked, backing away from the writing. I wasn’t sure if I wanted the answer.

A crack with the same glow formed in the ground and wound its way around Applejack, Starlight, and Trixie’s hooves. Instantly, the floor gave way, and the trio of ponies was plunged a few feet beneath the ground. They screamed in unison and fell with resounding thuds. I missed the plummet by only mere inches, my claws not very far away at all from the gaping hole in the ground.

I hovered above them, my wings flapping anxiously. “Guys?” I couldn’t see through the dust that filled the pit. After an eternity, the cloud settled and dispersed, revealing three battered and bruised ponies in a heap at the bottom.

Applejack endured a brief coughing fit. “We’re … alright … Spike. Don’t you … come … down here, now. Can’t … let you get … hurt.”

I remained where I was, hovering in uncertainty.

“Here, I’ll teleport us out,” Starlight proposed, already charging her horn. In the same moment, a layer of sparkling blue ice formed over the hole, nullifying both her spell and the spell-casting device on her forehead. “What the hay?”

I finally recognized the hue of the ice and the glow. “It’s Souse’s magic!” I exclaimed, balling my fists. “I thought we got rid of him.”

The ice began thickening by the second.

“Oh, no,” I breathed.

Applejack rubbed her temples. “He said he’s got spells from a thousand years ago, Spike. Just cause we got rid of him doesn’t mean we got rid of his magic.”

“It’s residual magic,” Starlight elaborated, staring hopelessly at the thickening ice between us. “Remnants of spells previously cast. Typically, when it’s magic left over from so long ago it’s easy to override, but this seems to be stronger than even my magic.” To prove her point, Starlight tried igniting her horn again, to no effect.

We watched the ice crackle and spark, the surface and its intricate lines growing deeper and bolder. 

Applejack exhaled. “Spike, I hate to put you in this position again, but … this is up to you. And whatever you’ve got to do, we believe in you.” She smiled faintly.

“I agree, Applejack,” Trixie said, nodding vigorously. “But, uh, try to hurry? I don’t think there’s enough air down here.” She gagged dramatically.

Starlight rolled her eyes. “Spike, I think this has something to do with the runes Trixie touched. Fly over and inspect them.”

“Roger that.” I saluted and quickly went to have a look at the graphics. 

They were still glowing, but the aura around the larger runes in the center was more prominent. Anxiously, I looked back at the hole my friends were encased in. The ice was still growing denser and wasn’t showing any signs of easing up. I gulped. Applejack was right: This was up to me.

All right, Spike. Think. Thinking. Thinking… Thinking of this as a riddle? Yes, a riddle! Or a code. Just have to decode the code, the way Applejack and I were trying to do yesterday.

I concentrated on the runes in front of me, being careful not to touch them and join the trap my friends found themselves in. The ones in the middle stand out: The first prominent rune is of a pony, one of very basic shape and mane-style. The second rune featured a steep cliff. The third a pair of colossal mountains with a river in between, the water fierce and turbulent. The fourth rune mirrored the second, except the cliff was backwards so that it was facing left instead of right.

Pony. Cliff. Canyon. Cliff. What could it mean? How are they all connected??

I tried to imagine all of the runes combined in one big picture.

Pony. Cliff. Canyon. Cliff.

Pony – Cliff – Canyon – Cliff

Pony on a cliff over a canyon under another cliff…

I slumped against the cold writing on the wall. It didn’t make sense. It should make sense though: I could feel something inside me telling me it had to make sense; that it did indeed make sense.

“Spike!” AJ’s muffled voice came from beneath the ice. “You ought ’a hurry! Please…!”

I growled out of frustration. “I’m trying! I’m trying!” I felt my breath quickening and tears threatening to leak out of my eyes. 

I suddenly remembered what I was leaning against and jumped back, visions of myself plummeting further below ground filling my head. To my relief, nothing happened to my body. But the wall changed. With a twinkle of magic, the image of a pony morphed into one of a small dragon … much like myself. My mouth made an “O” in surprise, and all at once, everything made sense.

I put myself in the position the graphic pony was once in. At such a high altitude, I had to cross over the canyon to get to the other side of the mountain. Seemingly impossible considering the size of the river flowing through, but if one used their resources and…

“Believe…” I whispered, a small smile spreading on my face. “I believe in myself.”

I turned away from the runes and faced Blue Moon River, the pit of ice, and the world that was supposedly beyond the cave walls.

“I BELIEVE IN MYSELF,” I said with enough conviction to melt even Souse’s glare. 

A glow of magic surrounded the hole, making the ice evaporated. The same aura of magic also lifted Applejack, Starlight, and Trixie back to the cave floor. Each of them exhaled a sigh of relief – or inhaled a few lungfuls of air – and directed their happy faces toward me. I ran to Applejack, enveloping her in a bone-crunching hug.

She ruffled the spines on my head. “I knew you could do it, buddy,” she laughed.

“Yeah, me too, actually.”

“Really, now?” She smirked.

“Mmhm. Just needed a reminder.” I smiled back. 

Starlight trotted up my side and joined the hug, and eventually, reeled Trixie in with her magic as well.

“I am so glad you worked it out, Spike. We’re so proud of you.” She gave me a squeeze. “As always.”

“Yes, thank you, Spike. Trixie appreciates not dying.”

Starlight gave her a look.

“What?” Her companion deadpanned.

Starlight cleared her throat and unfurled the map again. “I say we put all this behind us and focus on getting out as soon as possible. We’re almost there. Think of this as a sprint.”

“Finally,” Applejack sighed. She had the appearance of a weary mother in need of a break.

“Gotcha,” I agreed.

We made our way toward the next hallway.

“But when you say a sprint how much time do you mean?” I asked.

“Mmm, maybe an hour or so?” 

“Celestia, help us,” Trixie groaned.
> Chapter 9: The Epilogue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I hardly believed my eyes when they met sunlight for the first time in over twenty-four hours. It was even harder to believe when I had to close them to keep from going blind, making it harder to see said sunlight, meaning it couldn’t actually be real. Right?

But no. The cheers of the ponies beside me all but confirmed that we were finally outside.

I kissed the grass as soon as I could see comfortably. 

“You know what, Applejack?” I asked, sprawling out to soak up as much sun-induced warmth as possible.

She chuckled. “What, sugarcube?

“I’m not a huge fan of adventures, especially ones underground.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more, Spike.”

She laid down beside me. “I can’t thank you enough for everything, Spike.”

“Hey, you looked out for me; I just returned the favor,” I responded. I gave her a light punch on the shoulder. “And I know that if the roles were reversed, you would have done the same for me.”

“But no one can do things the way you do, Spike.” She beamed. “You’re special, kid.”

I rubbed the back of my neck. “Thanks. You are too.”

“Wonder what caused all that mess with the runes. Like, it certainly wouldn’t be goin’ on attackin’ ponies at random, would it?”

“I’d hope not. Maybe it has to do with fate.”

“You’re really on this whole destiny train, aren’t ya?”

I smiled cheekily. “There’s no harm in believing, right?”

She rolled her eyes but matched my smile. “Come on,” she extended a hoof. “Let’s get ya home.”

“There!”

We froze and turned to the voice. A Royal Guard clad fully in armor had his hoof and sword pointed at us. He spoke into a radio attached to his helmet.

“Spike the Dragon and Applejack have been located.”

In a flash, a certain purple alicorn appeared in front of us. She somehow managed to look even worse off than Applejack. Disheveled mane, pinprick eyes, lunatic expression … I think you know the picture by now.

“OHMYGOSH! Spike! Where in Equestria have you been?”

“Uh, in a cave? Like we talked about before I left?”

“Yessss, but you said no more than two days, and it’s been two days.” She held up her hooves for emphasis. “Yesterday, today. One, two.”

“Two full days, Twi. It can’t be that long since sunrise, right?"

"It's almost noon!!”

“Okay, okay. But that doesn’t change the fact that it hasn’t been two full days.”

“…Okay, also true. But you said no more than two days. I just assumed the cave wasn’t that big and that you two would be back by evening and then you weren’t back, so I was worried all night, until I finally had the wits about me to do the logical thing, which was calling the Royal Guard for a search and rescue—”

“A search and what now?!” Applejack asked, alarmed.

“But then they couldn’t find you two inside the cave this morning, so that made me even more worried. And, and, and nopony in town knew anything about you returning, so I assumed you were lost and was about to go in there myself, and–”

“And I’m glad you didn’t,” I laughed. “But seriously. Do not go in there. It’s living Tartarus.”

She frowned. “See, exactly why I was so concerned.”

“Well, we came out all right. Right, Applejack?”

Applejack blinked and raised an eyebrow.

“Right, Applejack?” I said with more emphasis.

She rubbed her snout. “I suppose so.”

“I guess … I guess you’re right.” Twilight calmed down somewhat. “You’re not doing anything like this without me again though. You hear?”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

“Good,” she smiled, relieved.

“If there’s one thing I’m wondering right now it’s where that Rainbow Dash is,” Applejack said, frowning. 

Twilight furrowed her brow. “Huh, that’s funny. She was with me not too long ago.” She scanned the area. “Ah.”

I scratched my head. “Where?”

She pointed a hoof upward. “Rainbow, get down from there! I’m sure somepony wants to have a word with you.”

Rainbow Dash floated down to the ground sheepishly, Scootaloo on her back. “Hehe, yes. AJ. How you doing?”

“Could be finer if ya didn’t send me on a haunted house tour.”

“Well, I mean, you agreed to it, so…”

“But I’m sure you knew it was so dangerous, right?”

“Bats,” I interjected. “Mini avalanches, spiders, not to mention it’s really dark. … and cold … and wet.”

“Especially wet,” Applejack mumbled.

“And the map,” I threw the piece of paper to the ground, “is absolute rubbish. I swear they made it to get ponies lost.”

“Ya wanna know how many times we got lost?”

Rainbow laughed, albeit somewhat nervously. “Well, I’m sorry  it wasn’t as fun as you hoped for. Guess daring things aren’t for everyone. Right, Scoots?”

“Mmhm.” She gazed into the cave with a crazed look in her eyes.

“You oughta show us how it’s done then.” Applejack smirked.

“Well, uh, we will, as soon as … as soon as…”

“Did I mention that there’s an evil spirit that shoots ice lasers at you? And weird writings on the wall that can trap you underground? Oh, and the water will give you hypothermia.”

“Evil spirit?!!” Twilight almost shrieked.

“I’ll explain later,” I mouthed.

“Oh,” Rainbow’s face blanched. “Well, it’s not like we haven’t faced crazy monsters before, right? And I’m sure I can avoid walls and water. I can fly.”

“Oh ho, but this guy’s different,” Applejack retaliated. “And trust me, Dash, there’s walls and water everywhere. One way or another you’re doomed at some point.”

She swallowed as discreetly as possible, looking up at the clouds, looking for a way out.

“When should I start your two-day timer, ladies?” I dug through my bag for a stopwatch.

“Uh, actually. I don’t think Scootaloo wants to go.”

“I never—” Scootaloo’s words were plugged by a cyan hoof.

“See? Speechless. Maybe not such a great idea to bring a filly after all.”

“Guess this trip’s only fit for a grown mare like you.” Applejack barreled into RD’s side, rolled her onto her back, and torpedoed toward the cave mouth.

“Wait, what?!!!”

AJ plopped her down on the soil by the entrance. “Whatcha waiting for?” She nudged her. “Go on, now.”

Starlight and Trixie suddenly joined me, AJ, Twi, and Scootaloo at the edge of the grass. Twilight gave them a nod of greeting.

“We’re all excited to see you set off,” Applejack continued. “We’ll meet ya on the other side, ‘kay?”

“But! But! There’s—”

Applejack’s face hardened. “No backing out now, Dash. A deal’s a deal.”

Rainbow hung her head in defeat, and, via magic, Twilight strapped her saddlebag full of supplies onto her back. “Okay, okay. I’m going.” She took a few meek steps and then stopped. She twisted her neck around to glare back at us. “And I will be out faster than you.”

Applejack rolled her eyes. “Sure ya will.”

Rainbow stood still.

“Go on, now.”

Celestia could’ve raised and lowered the sun twenty times in the time it took Rainbow to disappear into the cave.

Twilight yawned. “We’ll go in to get her if we need to, right?”

“Certainly,” Applejack said. “Although, I have feeling she’ll be coming right back out before we know it.”

“Hey, you’ve never really had a test of character until you’re plunged into the deep,” I added.

We all laughed at that, and in that moment, I realized I’ve never been more glad to have the friends I do.
.

.

.

“Wait, we should probably tell somepony about the whole map situation … and probably about Souse too,” Applejack interjected.

“Um, probably more than a probably,” I said.

“And, I don’t know, maybe sue if they knew about all this and still let this here cave business operate.”

“Mmm, yeah. Sounds reasonable.”

“Souse?” Twilight asked, eyebrow raised.

I turned around and waved everyone in the direction of Ponyville. “Evil spirit I mentioned earlier. We’ve got a long story to tell.”

The group burst into hearty laughter once again, the sun shining over our heads as we journeyed home at last.