Tides of Shade

The smell of roasting apples wafted from the old wood stove. It wasn’t often the Apple family had this kind of slapdash meal, but every once in a while they just didn’t feel like baking. A blackened pottery dish lay in the coals, keeping the moisture in. Apple Bloom walked up to the dish, appreciatively breathing in the smell of the spices as they mixed with the sweet juice of the apples. She pricked up her ears, listening to the thumping sound of heavy hooves on worn wooden stairs. She turned slowly, eyes wide and bright, to greet her big brother.

“Mmm Big Mac, these apples smell dee-licious! What did ya put in ‘em,” she asked enthusiastically, “It smells like cinnamon and sugar?”

“Yup. Just cinnamon and sugar. Maybe a little butter. It’s just campin’ food,” he drawled.

“It still smells mighty good. You give yourself too little credit, Mac,” said Applejack, walking slowly into the kitchen. Letting out a contented sigh, she sat down at the table. She loved this time in the evening, just sitting and relaxing. After a hard day’s work, nothing made her more content than sitting in her warm, familiar kitchen with her loving family.

*Thump*

“Ah!”

Creeaak

“Consarnit… Big Mac, can you help me with these confounded stairs agin? Ah cain’t rightly walk down the rickety things,” called a voice like a rusty hinge.

Big Mac walked out into the hall, climbing the stairs again to give Granny Smith a steady hoof to lean on. “Now, Granny, you know you shouldn’t be walkin’ up these stairs all day long. Why won’t you let me move your bedroom downstairs? It’ll be a lot easier on your hip.”

“Oh, fiddlesticks, ya big worrywobbler. Ah may be old, but Ah ain’t helpless! These old stairs just need a bit o’ firmin’ up and such.” The stairs in question creaked loudly in protest as the two good-natured bickerers stepped off of them and into the kitchen.

The light green elder mare sat gingerly down at one end of the table, settling down as the last rosy hues of daylight followed the sun past the horizon. Big Mac gripped the dish with a pot-holder and pulled it from the stove, careful not to let any hot coals tumble out. He carried it to the rough-hewn table of apple wood, setting it in the center. Sweet-smelling steam billowed from the concoction as the lid was lifted and set aside. The apples had been sitting in the coals for hours, the spices melting into the syrupy runoff as they were reduced in the heat.

*Knock knock knock*

All four ponies looked up at once, glancing at the door. They paused, turning back to each other and staring around the table with questioning looks. Applejack relented with a sigh and got slowly to her feet.

“Why’s it always me who’s gotta get the door,” she huffed with exasperation. She pulled a sour face at her family as they smiled encouragingly back. Shaking her head, she pulled open the door.

At first, she didn’t see anything. Squinting into the darkness, she finally saw the dark outline of a pony, his fur glinting wetly in the firelight.

“Can Ah help you,” she asked, concern showing in her voice. This stranger seemed a little the worse for wear. Not only was he soaked to the skin, but he was also keeping his right eye closed like it was injured. Despite all this, he smiled warmly as she opened the door.

“Yes. I’m sorry to bother you folk so late in the evening, but I’m afraid I don’t have anyplace to stay tonight. I’m a traveler, you see, and I don’t have enough to rent a room at an inn. I was wondering if I might sleep in your barn tonight to shelter from the cold.” Applejack’s face fell a bit as she gave him a pensive look. Normally, she’d be more than happy to lend a helping hoof to a traveler in need, but something didn’t seem right about this pony.

She was about to start asking questions when Granny Smith sidled up beside her.

“Why, howdy there young’un. Sakes, ya look like ya walked a hundred miles underwater. Why don’t ya come in here and dry off by the fire?”

Applejack pulled Granny aside, nervously smiling at the stranger, “Can you excuse us for just a moment?”

Turning, she whispered, “I don’t know about this colt, Granny. Don’t somethin’ seem off to you? The road into Ponyville is clear on the other side of town! There’s a halfway house and even a couple of ponies in town who wouldn’t mind takin’ him in for the night. Why walk all the way across town to ask us?”

Granny Smith looked up at her incredulously, “Applejack, I’m surprised at you. Don’t ya remember? The Apple family were wanderers before we settled here, and Ah remember seein’ your great-grandfather lookin’ a lot more raw than this whippersnapper.”

“Ah know, but…”

“But nothin’,” said Granny firmly, “Findin’ good, generous folk while wanderin’ the roads is harder ‘n horseshoes. I remember nights where it was all we could do just to stay warm, huddled up in the back o’ that drafty wagon. We ain’t about to send this young feller off to sleep on the road soakin’ wet and hungry. We just ain’t.” With that, Granny shoved the door open wider with strength belying her age and greeted the black stallion again.

“Sorry ‘bout that. We’d be happy to let ya stay the night in the barn. If ya like, there’s enough supper fer ya as well.”

“Thank you, ma’am, you’re most gracious. If you’d like, I can repay you by helping with the farm work. I may be a unicorn, but I’m still fairly fit,” Pitch said as he accepted the invitation. He walked into the warm farmhouse and noticed the two remaining ponies at the table.

“Thank you all very much,” he said in heartfelt thanks. He paused at the entrance to the kitchen, trying to decide where he should sit. Apple Bloom scooted aside and patted the ground next to her, offering him a warm smile. He sat down, returning the smile and looking across at the big red stallion sitting across from him.

Applejack watched him a little nervously. Once he and Granny were seated, she sighed in resignation and decided her objections could wait. For a few awkward seconds, the only sound in the kitchen was the dripping of Pitch’s mane as everypony sat watching the two mares of the family for any further signs of argument. Big Mac broke the silence.

“Um… I guess I’ll go getcha a towel or somethin’. We can’t have ya drippin’ all night."

“Thanks,” Pitch said with a small smile as Big Mac exited the kitchen.

Applejack and Granny Smith were too busy staring each other down, but Apple Bloom had noticed something about the newcomer. It hadn't taken her long, since it was usually the first thing she wanted to know about anypony.

"Your cutie mark," she gasped excitedly, "Ya don't have one! Why is it so late?"

She stared up at him, her eyes wide. It would surely be quite an adventure to help an adult pony find his cutie mark.

Pitch's expression darkened, "I'd rather not talk about it," he said quietly. "It isn't exactly a story I like to tell."

Apple Bloom's face fell. "Oh... okay."

They sat in awkward silence for a moment. Apple Bloom, feeling obligated to save the situation, decided to break the silence.

“So… what do you go by, stranger?”

“Pitch Herald.”

“’Pitch Herald’? What do ya do with a name like that?”

“Pretty much just… travel around I guess. I know a little magic, but I’m not terribly good at it. Don’t ask me to sing either! The ‘Herald’ part is just for show.”

“Hmm, a traveler. ‘Bout how far have you traveled from?”

“I get that question a lot, but I never really have an exact answer…” Applejack’s frown deepened, “My first real point of reference is the southernmost edge of Saddle Arabia. I tend to stay out of cities if I can help it, so I don’t get my bearings very often. It can be hard to find reasonable folk on the borders, so I prefer to keep to myself.”

“Hmm,” Apple Bloom nodded sagely, “I suppose that’s true. What about that eye of yours? Did ya hurt it?”

Pitch’s smile grew strained at this question. He always ran a gamble no matter how he handled it. If he told the truth and showed them his eye, they might think he was some kind of freak and kick him out. If he lied and continued to hide it, they could find out later. Then he would definitely get chased off. Luckily, Big Mac returned just then with a towel for him.

“Here ya go. Go ahead and dry off a little. You can go ahead and tell us your name too, while you’re at it.”

“Thanks. I was just telling this sweet little filly here about my travels.”

“Aw, shucks. Don’t you go callin’ me ‘little’ now. My name’s Apple Bloom. This here is Big Mac, Applejack, and Granny Smith.” Apple Bloom pointed to each pony in turn as she said their names. Big Mac and Granny Smith smiled and nodded, but Applejack just grunted and turned away.

Apple Bloom looked up at her, nonplussed, “What’s wrong Applejack? It ain’t like you to act all un-neighborly.”

Applejack saw no reason to hide how she felt. “I just don’t cotton to allowin’ ponies we don’t know nothin’ about into our home. For all we know, everything he’s said has been a lie.” Looking over at Pitch, she noticed his downcast eyes.

She continued, a slightly apologetic tone to her voice, “It’s nothin’ personal, mind. We just don’t know the first thing about ya! Bad ponies are still out there, ya know. In my place, you’d prob'ly feel the same.”

Granny Smith was about to speak when Pitch interrupted her, “I understand, Applejack. Nopony I meet has any real reason to trust me. I can’t really say that my appearance has helped much,” he said with a sad smile. His pure black coat and single eye really didn’t inspire confidence in his honesty. She quietly admitted to herself that his shady appearance had probably colored her judgment. Ignoring the slight twinge of guilt, she decided to stand her ground. Putting on a stern look, she waited expectantly for him to elaborate further.

“I guess now would be a good time to answer your question, Apple Bloom,” Pitch muttered quietly as he pulled his mane to the side, revealing his still-closed eye. “My eye isn’t injured. I hid it on purpose because it looks… well I suppose I’ll just show you.”

With that, he opened up his eye and looked around the table. The effect it had on his face was shocking. With one eye appearing larger than the other he looked like an insane cartoon. No matter how you saw it, his lopsided gaze seemed to be directed slightly over your shoulder. He smiled nervously as he looked around at his hosts, their faces frozen with surprise. His smile faltered as the stunned silence stretched on. Wrong gamble…

Apple Bloom was the first to speak. “Woooaaahh…” She was in awe, “That’s so COOL! How’d ya get your eyes to do that?”

Pitch felt his chest unclench. Grinning mischievously, he looked Apple Bloom full in the face, “What? You mean you’ve never been warned about what happens to ponies who make scary faces?” He leaned forward and whispered, “They stay that way.”

Apple Bloom drew in a quick breath and her eyes grew wide with fear. Pitch laughed at her reaction. “I’m just kidding Apple Bloom! No, I was born with these mismatched peepers. Actually, even though my right eye looks like it’s uncolored, you can look real close and notice that it’s actually a veeerry light pink. See?”

He brought his face down to her level as Apple Bloom stared hard at his strange right eye. “I think I can see it… It still looks weird though.”

He pulled a face at her, “So I’m weird now?”

“Ah-Ah didn’t mean it like that. It’s just your eye that’s weird. Ya seem like an okay pony to me.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Pitch looked around the table. Applejack and Granny Smith seemed to have forgotten their argument for the moment. Applejack was looking closer at him, trying to distinguish the color in his right eye from the whites. Granny was grinning appreciatively at the stuck-face joke.

While this had been going on, Big Mac had gotten up and was rummaging around in the cabinets.

“Will one of you ponies help with supper? It’ll have gone flat cold before we get ta eat at this rate,” he said with mock severity as he pulled several dishes out and set them on the countertop.

The tension broken, everypony helped set the table and served themselves some of Big Mac’s concoction. The apples had softened considerably from their normally firm texture. Their juices had thickened with the sugar and cinnamon, giving the dish a taste and feel a lot like apple pie filling. A bit messy, but it smelled delicious.

Pitch waited for his hosts to start before beginning to eat with obvious enjoyment. He hadn’t tasted anything so sweet in a long time. He ate slowly, savoring every bite. Applejack watched him with some amusement.

“I know you’re among earth ponies, Pitch, but ya don’t have to hide yer magic from us. Go ahead and levitate yer food, it don’t offend us none.”

Pitch paused mid-bite, “Actually, I can’t levitate things. I never really had any training in magic, so there’s a lot of magic I still don’t know.” Pitch smiled as he lied. He felt a little guilty lying to the ponies who had taken him in, but he banished those thoughts immediately.

Nopony has to know about that.

Applejack was taken aback. How in the hay does a unicorn go his whole life and never learn such basic magic?

She opened her mouth to ask some very pointed questions, but instead let out a big yawn. Night had snuck up on them all and the crescent moon was now high in the sky. Everypony seemed to be in a similar state of mind. Pitch was licking his lips contentedly as they all settled down sleepily.

Applejack blinked sleepily, “I guess I’ll show you to where you’ll be sleepin’. Follow me.”

She led Pitch out of the house and into the barn. She pointed to one of the fresher bales of hay and he walked slowly over, taking in the musty scent of the barn. The moonlight streamed through gaps in the slats, illuminating the dust kicked up by the ponies’ tired hooves.

“Now, we start early in the mornin’ around here, so if you’re gonna help I expect ya to be able to get up early, ya hear?”

“Yes, ma’am!” Pitch managed a slow salute before flopping onto the hay, exhausted from the day’s events.

Applejack chuckled a little, softening toward the dark-coated stallion.

She walked back to the farmhouse in the moonlight, staring up at the starry sky as she thought about what Granny had said about her great-grandfather.

Her last thought before she fell asleep was, Maybe he ain’t all bad…