Tides of Shade

The musty smell of dust and old wood filled his nostrils. He was desperately trying not to make a sound even as his body greedily sucked in air. The light coming through the slats highlighted the dust as it swirled before his eyes. He felt claustrophobic, as if the dry pine walls were slowly drowning him. He forced himself to breath slowly as his heart raced.

No…

The deep rumbling had stopped. A few minutes before, the world had been dominated by high-pitched whines and earth-shaking booms. Now, the last echoes were fading and the air was soaked in silent tension. He strained his ears, hoping to hear some indication of what was happening.

No, please…

Tears came unbidden to his eyes as he thought about what had happened. Where had they all come from? What were they? Why did they…

Suddenly he froze. He didn’t breath. He didn’t think. Quiet whispers seemed to be coming from somewhere outside his hiding place. He began losing the fight against fear as his body began to shiver. Listening closely, he realized what sounded like whispers was actually slow, hissing breaths as whatever it was slowly approached. There were no footsteps. There was no rustle of movement. Only the hissing breaths getting slightly louder as whatever it was drew closer.

Why did you…

He didn’t know why it was coming closer. Did it hear his breathing before he was able to quiet himself? He tensed as something shuffled over the surface of his hiding place. The light shining through the slats began to fade. Something began to cover his rough wooden hiding place as it slowly became his coffin…

“NO!”

Pitch awoke with a panicked yell. He whirled around, staring into the darkness. Cold sweat soaked his mane, mingling with his tears as they rolled down his face. He glared into the shadows, hoping to pierce the disguise and recognize the nightmare for what it really was. Indifferent to the frightened pony’s gaze, none of the shadows moved to attack him. As silence settled back over the barn like a layer of dust temporarily disturbed, he gradually calmed down. Glancing cautiously around the empty barn, he noticed the moonlight filtering through the slats of the barn. The dust floated peacefully down on the still night air.

He sighed with relief, shaking his head. The dreams hadn’t troubled him for years.

I’ll have to stop sleeping in barns.

The dark horizon began to glow orange as the world slowly opened its eyes. Pitch shrugged. It hadn’t been a peaceful sleep, but he couldn’t possibly fall asleep again. Besides, Applejack had mentioned getting started early. The adrenaline from his nightmare had worn off by now and he was feeling sluggish this morning. Must have been that apple bake last night. His mouth watered as he remembered the dish. I wonder what they do for breakfast around here. I can’t work all day on an empty stomach.

Walking with a leisurely pace out of the barn, he noticed Applejack sitting outside the front door of the farmhouse. She was watching the sunrise, a slight frown playing across her freckled face. She was clearly lost in thought. Pitch took his time walking over to her, his eyes traveling the length of her body. She looked… strong. His gaze slowly traveled from her green eyes down her torso to the red apples adorning her flank. He admired the way the shadows softly traced her curves in the growing sunlight. Despite this, she didn’t strike a hard figure. Everything about her seems so… blunt. No, that’s the wrong word…

Pitch got a strong feeling about certain ponies. He seemed to have a fairly accurate sixth sense about what another creature’s emotions or intentions were. He had never come up with an explanation and the sense was generally vague to the point of uselessness, but it had saved him in some situations.  One memorable night, a village elder had decided he was a threat. A young mare was tasked with luring him into a trap so he could “stand trial”. The feeling of danger had filled his mind from the moment she stepped into his room… but that was enough reminiscing.

“Good morning.” He put on a cheerful smile as he approached the orange mare.

Applejack didn’t immediately acknowledge his presence. He decided he might be interrupting a morning ritual for her, so he took a slow turn and started walking toward the farmhouse.

“Wait…” Applejack’s voice was quiet, “Ah have something Ah need to say.”

Pitch paused, turning his head back toward her. He gave her a questioning look, but she was still facing the rising sun so she didn’t see it. She sounded pretty serious about this, so he walked up beside her. “Yes?”

She let out a long sigh, “Look… when ya came to the door last night, Ah didn’t really trust ya. Now, Ah told ya so and Ah told ya why, but Ah’ve had some time to think about it. Ah have a lot of questions about where you’re from and what your intentions are, but Ah may have let your looks get between me and mah manners. You ain’t done nothin’ wrong and I ain’t got no excuse to treat ya the way Ah have been. Ah’ve decided ya deserve the benefit of the doubt, Ah guess is what Ah’m sayin’.” Applejack’s voice started out frank and thought-out, but by the end her nervousness was evident. Admitting her own failings wasn’t something she liked to do.

Pitch listened patiently, nodding once or twice. When she had said her piece, he threw her a sidelong look. She was making a point of not looking at him, frowning as she continued to stare at the now bright horizon. His silent gaze caused a blush to start in her cheeks. His mismatched eyes twinkled as he turned his sight forward again, his voice soft as he answered her.

“Well, I can’t say I blame you. At least you came out and told me about it rather than hiding it. A lot of ponies are afraid to mention how my appearance makes them feel out of misguided sympathy. I prefer honesty wherever I can find it.”

She smirked a bit at that, I guess he came to the right place after all.

They stood in silence for a while, waking up as the sun slowly chased the early morning chill out of their bodies.

“Well, Ah reckon we’ve had enough jawin’ for this mornin’,” Applejack said as she punched him lightly in the shoulder, “You ready to get started? Everypony’s prob’ly awake by now.”

She turned and walked back into the farmhouse. Pitch followed her and was greeted immediately by Apple Bloom. “Good mornin’ mister Pitch! Ah see ya ain’t gonna sleep in on us. Don’t worry, Ah know everythin’ you need to help out! Ah’ll take ya under mah wing today.” Apple Bloom paused mid-turn, thinking about that last statement, “Uh… or under-hoof. No… Um. Ah’ll be showin’ ya the ropes.” With that, she led Pitch into the kitchen.

“Well, thank you Apple Bloom. I’m sure I’m under good wings.” He chuckled as Apple Bloom puffed up her cheeks, shooting him an exasperated look as she sat down at the table. Granny Smith looked from Applejack to Pitch, an amused expression creeping across her face. Pitch met Granny’s eyes for a moment. She raised her eyebrows, trying to appear disapproving but her smile never quite disappeared. Big Mac’s face was impassive as he watched the two sit down.

A small basket of apples was already on the table. Everypony took an apple as breakfast began. Pitch quickly learned that this wasn’t just a meal, however, as each pony took a turn laying out their plans and coordinating which duties needed to be finished by the end of the day. The Apples weren’t sure about how much work Pitch was really capable of, but agreed that he would start at the most strenuous work in the cool morning and work his way toward the easiest as the day grew hotter. Everypony was surprised when Big Mac jumped in to show him how to buck trees. Apple Bloom’s face fell a little at this, but there were still many other chores she could teach him.

The ponies dispersed from the front door, ready to start their work. Applejack and Apple Bloom headed toward the east end of the north field carrying a multitude of apple baskets. Pitch and Big Mac headed toward the center. The plan was for each team to work toward the west until all the apples were harvested. Pitch and Big Mac walked in silence, sizing each other up. Mac’s obvious strength and endurance didn’t escape Pitch’s notice. He carried several baskets over his back without any sign that he was carrying anything at all. Pitch weighed his options. Why would Big Mac volunteer to be his coworker for the day? Honesty had served him well thus far, so Pitch cleared his throat and spoke up.

“So, Big Mac, why so eager to teach me how to buck apple trees? Not that I’m complaining, but you nearly jumped at the chance.” Mac said nothing, so Pitch decided to be more direct, “Is there something you want to tell me?”

Big Mac stopped, putting down his baskets and turning to face Pitch. His expression was still impassable as Pitch slowly put his baskets down as well. He felt a slightly adversarial vibe from Mac, but he didn’t think a fight was at hoof.

Mac thought for a second, “Ah ain’t good with words or booksmarts,” he spoke slowly, “But Ah ain’t no foal. Mah sister’s a grown mare and a rock o’ good sense. She can take care o’ herself. Sumthin’ she don’t need, tho’, is some smooth-talkin’ pony warmin’ up to ‘er and then just up and leavin’.”

Pitch was stunned, “Y-You really think,” that I have a chance with her? He stopped himself just in time, “that I would do something like that? I have no intention of…” What exactly are my intentions?

This was a bigger question than Pitch thought it would be. When he came to a village, he usually stuck around until he didn’t like it or was kicked out. He always told himself he liked solitude, but some buried part of him ached for the kind of steady life the Apples had. He realized he didn’t have any plans at all.

“I… I have no intention of hurting anypony.” It was the honest truth. Whatever happened, he wasn’t after anything malicious.

Big Mac quietly chewed a hay straw, digesting Pitch’s response. “Ah believe ya,” he finally said, offering Pitch his hoof to shake. Pitch breathed a sigh of relief as he accepted the hoofshake. Big Mac’s face finally broke into a small smile as he walked over to their first tree.

He positioned a few baskets around the tree with a practiced eye. Walking up to the tree he turned around and threw a huge kick straight into the trunk with both hooves. Pitch winced as he felt the ground shake with the tree as a rain of ruby apples fell into the baskets. Impressively, only a few apples had fallen outside the baskets. These were quickly collected. Big Mac looked up at Pitch, wordlessly pointing at a nearby apple tree. Pitch nodded and dragged a few baskets over to the tree. Placing them as best he could, he reared his hind legs and delivered a kick with all of his strength to the trunk of the tree. Another small shower of apples fell. They landed mostly in the baskets, but Pitch groaned as he looked back into the tree. It was still full of apples. He would be all morning just getting a few trees done at this rate.

Then, he had an idea. “One more try,” he told Mac. Mac nodded, still chewing his hay straw. Pitch coiled up his flank muscles, ready to give the tree another kick. As he readied his kick, though, he also readied his magic. Whereas most unicorns would have an aura around their horn when they cast, Pitch’s particular brand of magic caused his horn (and sometimes other parts of his body) to glow with a kind of inner heat. The glow in Pitch’s horn was imperceptible as he put only as much magic into the spell as he needed. Pitch delivered the kick. The flurry of wind in the trees was masked by the momentary shaking of the branches and the apples all fell at once.

Big Mac raised an eyebrow as the apples fell into the baskets. Ah guess he can handle some apple-buckin’. Hope he can last ‘til lunch. “Not bad, stranger. Still plenty to do.”

“Of course,” Pitch agreed as they began to buck the apple trees in earnest.

Not only did Pitch last until lunch, but he bucked apples almost at the same pace as Big Mac for the full day. Nopony was more surprised than Granny when she saw the strange dark-coated pony had nearly matched the other two farm ponies basket-for-basket. “Well, how d’ya like that. Looks like the stranger might actually give you young’uns a run for yer bits!”

Apple Bloom was pouting. She had wanted to take charge today and show the new pony the ropes, but Big Mac had other plans.

I guess he *did** do a pretty good job buckin' apples today,* she thought. Pitch noticed her dour look and stood beside her, nudging her. "Hey, don't worry, you can teach me all you want tomorrow."

"Really," she asked hopefully.

"Of course! I don't know everything about the farm yet. I need an orchard master to teach me," he leaned in closer, "Are you up for the challenge?"

"Ah sure am! Just you wait, Ah'm gonna show ya how to repair the baskets properly and how to tell a good apple from a bad apple and all sorts of stuff!" She bounced a little with excitement. She was usually the one being taught. It was good to be the one better at something for a change.

Applejack was flabbergasted.

“Ah cain’t believe some wanderer could do so well on his very first day! How’d ya do it?”

“Well, like I said, I’m pretty fit. Wandering isn’t exactly a sedentary lifestyle, you know.”

Applejack didn’t necessarily believe that a unicorn had matched an earth pony for endurance and strength, particularly one as powerful as Big Macintosh. However, Mac had been with him the whole day and had sworn he didn’t see Pitch using any magic. Despite her doubts, she was pleased with the amount of work they’d been able to accomplish with Pitch’s help. At this rate, they could easily finish harvest early and start making cider. That is unless…

“You leavin’?”

Big Mac had broken the silence with the simple question. Everypony was quiet, but what had been a peaceful evening had taken on a more somber mood. Nopony really wanted Pitch to leave. Not only had he been a big help, but he had been a very kind pony in general. The five ponies sat or leaned in various places around the porch.

Pitch felt that Mac had meant to remind him of their conversation that morning. He remembered what he’d said, but he wanted to leave least of all. “Actually, I was sort of hoping to stay for awhile. I don’t really have any particular destination in mind. I know I’ve only been here a short time, but I haven’t met any ponies with… um. Well, any ponies like you,” he finished rather lamely. He looked over at Big Mac, expecting him to be disappointed or reproving. Big Mac’s face was as indifferent as ever, but a slow smile crept to his mouth. Mac walked over to Pitch, pulling him into a one-legged hug. “You’ll be good to have around.” He squeezed Pitch painfully tight for a split-second before pulling away and walking inside. Pitch didn’t miss his meaning. Big Mac still didn’t completely trust Pitch around his family, but was willing to give him a chance.

Applejack had known her brother for a long time. He wasn’t a very… huggy pony. She had watched these events pass with disbelief until she noticed Pitch’s eyes widen for a moment as Mac tightened his hold. She was glad her brother was on the watch as well. “Well, if you’re stayin’ here agin tonight, we’ll have to move some of those apple baskets around. Tomorrow is usually when we sort the apples and today’s surplus filled up more floor space than usual.”

Pitch tensed for a moment, “Actually, could I maybe just get some hay and sleep outside the barn? I feel like sleeping under the stars tonight.”

Applejack shrugged, “Suit yerself.”

After dinner, Applejack and Pitch walked out to the barn. They found some fresh hay and Pitch carried it outside, picking his spot. As Applejack climbed down from the loft, she stepped carefully around the baskets carpeting the floor. She had almost made it to the barn's entrance when she bumped one basket. A few apples spilled out of the barn into the moonlight. “Ponyfeathers…” she swore under her breath.

She walked over to the spilled apples, bending to pick them up. Upon closer inspection, she noticed something strange. She couldn’t have seen that…

Looking closer, there was no doubt left in her mind. These apples hadn’t been bucked, picked, or even levitated off the tree. Their stems are cut clean through. Uneasiness stirring in her belly, she picked up the apples and placed them back into their basket. She took the time to look quickly around the other baskets. All of the apples Pitch had picked were cut at the stem. “I knew he used magic,” she muttered.

She was about to call out angrily to Pitch, but checked herself at the last second. I ain’t never seen any magic that could slice up a whole treeful of apples. I still don’t know anything about him. If he’s here to cause harm and ain’t done nothin’ yet, then callin’ him out might force his hoof. She bit her lip, extremely troubled by this revelation. Confronting a unicorn capable of slicing and dicing her could only end poorly. He hasn’t been anything but nice so far, but hiding this is definitely a good reason to be suspicious.

Convinced she wasn’t being silly or prejudiced, she turned to see Pitch standing in the doorway. She jumped a little. “Did you hear me, Applejack?” Pitch looked like he hadn’t noticed anything. Good.

“Uh, no, sugarcube. Ah was thinkin’ of somethin’ else.”

“I asked if this spot over here is okay to set the hay.” Pitch indicated an area against the barn wall with an outstretched hoof. He kept his face happy, but he felt her fear. What happened?

“Oh, uh, yeah that’s fine.” She let out a genuine yawn, “Ah’m tired, so Ah think Ah’ll turn in. See ya in the mornin’!”

Both ponies parted ways. They lay on their respective bedding, feeling very uneasy.

Applejack decided this predicament was something she needed help with. She’d head into town tomorrow with her apple cart and leave the sorting to everypony else. She had some friends to talk to…