Chapter 1: Signs of Strife
The waking world.
The whispering leaves.
The hushed response of a sleepy brook.
The stems of light stretching through the yawning trees that opened to the heavens, unveiling another perfect morning at the wooded outskirts of Ponyville. As had always been the case, Fluttershy was already up, already chipper, already greeting the world anew as it groggily peeked at Celestia’s faithful sunrise. It was her favorite time of day. The time when nature sprung back to life. Everything felt new and fresh in the morning. She had, by now, woken her woodland friends, and was tending to her vegetable garden when a cool breeze rushed through the forest. She paused a moment, allowing herself the time to breathe in the virgin air, scented with pine and earth and a telltale hint of distant apples. It was, all-in-all, shaping up to be a very pleasant, very average day. And Fluttershy could not have asked for anything more.
As weeds came up and seeds tumbled down, her thoughts trailed from the day ahead to years gone by. Friends, once so close, now scattered. Voices only heard through letters. Faces only seen in dreams. She didn’t like change. At least, not certain kinds of change. She loved new things. New seasons, new flowers, new friends. But the inhale of new was always followed by the exhale of old. That was the change she couldn’t stand. The death of a tree, the distancing of a friend, even the end of a good book left her with a touch of emptiness. But there were always two sides to change, and her wandering thoughts were interrupted by the former.
“Momma!”
Fluttershy turned towards her cottage, quaint as ever, and there in the open doorway, was Springtime. Her little filly. Her daughter of nearly two years. Towering not far behind her, in all his stoic nonchalance, was Big Macintosh. He’d hoped one of these days to surprise his wife with even a simple breakfast in bed, but she always seemed hours ahead of him; at times, he suspected she never actually slept at all. But he could hardly feel disappointed. All the little things in their life kept him happy, little Springtime most of all. Their daughter was fuzzier than most ponies. Her sherbet orange coat with a natural puff and her bouncy, snow-white mane gave the foal an even cuter, rounder shape. Fluttershy thought she was unstoppably adorable but feared that, later in life, her puffiness might be grounds for teasing. Ain’t nothin’ to worry about, Big Mac had reassured her. She wasn’t sure why, but his simple words always seemed to carry an extra weight. Perhaps because they were always genuine.
But it was Fluttershy’s nature to worry, even more so now in the dawn of motherhood. And as Springtime ran down the front stoop to greet her, the excited filly tripped and tumbled, rolling down the dirt path that weaved its way up to the cottage.
“Oh! My goodness!” Fluttershy squeaked as she flew to Springtime’s side, gathering her up in her forehooves. “Are you alright, little one?” A far cry from upset, Springtime’s face was lit up like the night sky, bursting with giggles. Fluttershy’s heart slowly returned to its normal pace. “Aww, of course you are,” she chirped, nuzzling her filly’s stomach. “You’ve got all that extra fur to keep you safe.” As she cradled her baby girl, Springtime began to nibble at the ends of her mother’s mane – an odd affinity, to say the least, but Fluttershy didn’t have the heart to deny her daughter’s favorite snack.
“Are you going out today?” Fluttershy asked, throwing a sweetened look to Big Mac.
“Eeyup,” came his ever-familiar reply. Fluttershy knew he liked yes-or-no questions best and had fallen into the habit of using them almost exclusively. On more than one occasion, she’d caught herself unwittingly boring a friend with her oversimplified conversation. A small price to pay for such a beautiful life.
“Are you heading over to see Applejack?” Fluttershy pried, knowing to fish for answers one question at a time.
“Eeyup,” Big Mac said with a proud grin and a nod.
“Would you, um, mind waiting until I get back?” Fluttershy asked, her eyes shifting nervously. She never liked asking for favors. “I need to get a few things in town for Springtime’s birthday.”
“Eenope.”
“Aww,” Fluttershy cooed, sweeping Springtime up into the air. “Isn’t your daddy the best?”
“Dadda!” Springtime cheered, flapping her arms and giggling out bubbles of drool.
Fluttershy drifted back down, plopping her fluffy ball of drooling sunshine atop her husband’s mussy mane. “You two are more alike than I’d ever admit,” she laughed. “I’ll be back in a bit, sweetheart.” She kissed Big Mac on the tip of his snout, which always roused a bigger blush out of him, and took off trotting towards Ponyville.
Big Mac peered up through his tousled waves of dirty blonde hair at his wide-eyed filly.
“Eeeeyup.”
The Ponyville market was fairly busy that morning, though Fluttershy still felt it rather hollow. The quiet little town had grown over the years as word of “Princess Twilight’s favorite village” spread. But even as new ponies arrived, so too did old ones leave, and no matter who came or went, the atmosphere was never quite perfect without Pinkie. Few ponies ever knew why she left. Fewer still, to where. Every mare and stallion in town had their theories, their speculations. They ranged from simple home-goings to wild accusations of debauchery and blood magic. But even those who knew her best had little idea of what truly occurred. The only thing that was for certain was the uncomfortable stillness left behind.
That Fluttershy was out shopping for party supplies only served to make matters worse. How many balloons? Which color streamers? What kind of cake? Pinkie would have known. Well, Fluttershy giggled to herself, Pinkie probably would have had the whole thing planned by the time I even got here.
Fluttershy’s fond memories and cozy smile lingered as she made her way from shop to shop, picking out the most modest decorations she could find. Nothing fancy. Fancy meant expensive, and even though Big Mac’s job at Sweet Apple Acres kept them comfortable, it wasn’t quite “fancy”.
“Well, hello there, Fluttershy!” An overly perky voice ripped through the bustling air.
“Eeep!” Fluttershy jumped back. She looked up, unsure of how she’d quite gotten to where she was, which at present, was in Sugarcube Corner, face-to-face with Mrs. Cake.
“My, you always were a skittish one, hmm?” the brightly-colored mare chuckled. Fluttershy had always enjoyed Mrs. Cake’s company, with her lively personality and her frosting mane and tail. She was the closest thing to a Pinkie Pie the town had anymore. At the moment, however, Fluttershy was feeling unquestionably self-conscious, as she was often wont to do.
“Oh, um, it’s just, well,” she stammered. “You see… I wasn’t really expecting to see you.”
“Here?” Mrs. Cake puzzled.
“Um.”
“In my shop?”
“Uh.”
“In the middle of the work day?”
“oh…”
Mrs. Cake could see Fluttershy shrinking with every question. “Well, that seems reasonable enough,” she touted.
Fluttershy unfurled, her head perking back up. “It… it does?”
Mrs. Cake offered only the warmest of smiles. “Sure thing, dearie. Now what can I do ya for?”
“Oh!” Fluttershy blurted, tripping a bit over her own hooves. “I need a birthday cake. Springtime is turning two next week.”
“Well isn’t that just precious!” Mrs. Cake cheered. “I tell ya what, you’ve got yourself the cutest little marshmallow baby this side of the Cloudsdale cloud factory.”
“Um…”
“Now you just sit tight, I’ve got the perfect cake for you in the back.” With that, she disappeared into the frosty mists of cold storage.
Not ten minutes later, she emerged to find Fluttershy sitting precisely where she’d left her. In her mouth, Mrs. Cake carried a box strung with elaborate gold ribbon. She set it gingerly on the counter and opened the lid. Fluttershy peeped inside to find a luscious pink cake topped with a veritable waltz of icing and fresh strawberries. In the center, in perfect cursive, read “Happy Birthday Spring Thyme”.
“Did the lettering myself!” Mrs. Cake boasted loudly. “Pretty darn good if I do say so.”
“It’s um… it’s actually…” Fluttershy caught Mrs. Cake’s proud and expectant look. “It’s perfect,” she sighed with a smile. “Thank you.”
And so, with a basketful of goodies clenched in a satisfied grin, Fluttershy finally made her way along the slow, meandering path home. Once again, her thoughts etched their way back to Pinkie Pie. It wasn’t the worst thing, she supposed. There were always two sides to change. Sure the town was quiet, but quiet wasn’t always bad. It was then that she noticed a silence far more unsettling than the one in town. She froze in her tracks and perked her ears.
Nothing.
She dug a hoof in her ear, but came up empty. Usually, at this time of day, the woods were alive with singing birds and rustling leaves and the sleepy grumbles of hungry bears looking for a snack at the cottage. But the air was still. It was thick. It was wrong.
The sky began to darken, crusting over with an unsavory sort of cloud. Fluttershy felt a shiver run from muzzle to tail. She resumed a quicker pace back home, suddenly desperate for the safe embrace of her husband and her cottage. She felt her mane, her tail, even the fur of her coat begin to stand on end, as if Pinkie had rubbed her with too many party balloons. The air was charged. Then, without warning, the sky lit up. A bolt of lightning carved brilliantly towards the horizon, scorching the clouds a burnt, copper tone in its wake. Awed by the unnatural light show, Fluttershy seemingly forgot that every lightning strike brings with it a roar of thunder. An echoing boom tore through the trees and breached the very earth itself. Everything shook violently, as if the foundations of the world were giving way.
She could hear the distant moans of a frightened foal. Her wings were frightened enough on their own, and refused to open, but Fluttershy sprinted home as fast as her legs would allow. When the speckling of leaves finally relented, and the cottage pulled into view, she spotted Big Mac on the front lawn, staring bewildered up at the broken sky. A whimpering Springtime clung dearly to the back of his neck. Several of the cottage windows had been cracked. She ran up beside them, haphazardly dropping the basket at her hooves.
“Whad’ya reckon that was?” Big Mac pondered, never taking his eyes off the blazing sky.
“I- I don’t know!” Fluttershy quivered, instinctively cuddling into her husband’s rough, familiar coat. “I just hope that’s the last of it.”
“Eeenope.”
Fluttershy heard a crackling in the air, one she’d heard before. One the whole of Equestria knew. She peered up just in time to see a blur of colors burn through the sky, a shock of rainbow speeding off towards the same horizon. It was low to the ground – too low – a whirlwind stripping leaves off trees and birdhouses off perches.
“Oh, no no no, everypony in the house, please!” Fluttershy was frantic and vocal, and Big Mac knew that meant business. He darted into the cottage, with Fluttershy close at his heels. No sooner had the door slammed behind her than a heavy, entrancing wave of rainbow crashed over them, carrying a sonic explosion that shattered every window in the house. All three ponies cowered on the floor for what seemed an eternity before the commotion finally passed. Their hearts racing, Big Mac and Fluttershy exchanged quizzical glances. Between the two powerful shockwaves, the cottage was reminiscent of a weekend visit from Discord. But cleaning would have to wait. Something far bigger was clearly underway.
Fluttershy gathered herself, shaking the dust out of her wings. She forced a timid smile. Sweet Celestia, how many times, in all their brazen adventures, had she forced a smile for her friends? And this, of all those moments, was the hardest. She was petrified. Not just of the earth-shattering forces rocketing across the Equestrian plains, but of what she knew it meant for her. Somehow, in her heart of hearts, she saw herself entangled in another web. Another story she’d rather read than write. Everything she’d hoped she had set aside to raise her family. Somehow, she knew it would drag her back in. And so, she forced a timid smile.
“Well,” she said, chewing nervously at her lip, “I think maybe we should all pay a visit to Auntie Applejack.”
Chapter 2: The Fraying Edge
Work, work, work, Applejack griped to herself as she hauled another cart of apples around the corner of the barn. That’s all I’m good for these days. The paint on the barn was peeling, fading, chipping off the wooden siding that had been rotten for years. Just more chores for the list. The thought alone made her fur crawl. Sure, she enjoyed working the orchards. But there was more to life than picking apples. And apparently, it’s squishin’ ‘em, she huffed, trudging under the lean-to next to the barn and tipping her payload into the brand new cider press.
Business had only flourished in the past few years, and the help had all but dried up. Big Mac still made the rounds, though not as often. He, of all ponies, Applejack understood. At least he’d made an honest life for himself. And not a soul in the world could have asked for a better sister-in-law. The rest, in her humble opinion, had sold the Apple Family short. Granny Smith had snuck out in the midst of one particularly stormy night, leaving only a scribbled apology:
Dear Youngin’s,
Celestia knows I ain’t got too much applesauce left in these old bones of mine. So, instead of
putzing around, gettin’ in everypony’s way, I reckoned I’d spend my golden years making up
for lost time. There’s still so much of Equestria this old mare hasn’t seen, and Zecora
offered – darn tootin’ she did – to be my official guide. How fancy is that? Now, I know you’ll
be awful sore at me for leavin’ on such short notice, but I didn’t want you makin’ a fuss over
nothin’ as simple as your old Granny takin’ a walk. Y’all are big enough to take care of your-
selves. You’re keen enough to know I’m proud of ya. And you’re strong enough to say good-
bye. Don’t worry your pretty little heads too much. This gal has still got a whiff or two of the
old fighting spirit in her. And I’ll be wantin’ some Zap Apple pie when I get back. Until then.
Much love,
Granny
It wasn’t much of a legacy, but it would have to do. Apple Bloom had taken it the hardest. Not a month later, she escaped to Manehattan with the rest of the Cutie Mark Crusaders to room with Babs, no doubt gossiping into the waning hours about colts and fashion and the like. Why they still called themselves by their long-defunct title was beyond Applejack. But then again, so was most everything those days.
The cider press, like all newer models, came equipped with a safety harness, which she promptly ignored climbing aboard the adjacent treadmill. She started off with a trot, just to prime the grinders. The trot was easy. It was comfortable. It was necessary. But it just felt… a little too familiar. The whole lot of it did. At the height of a successful business, surrounded by loving friends and family, and all she could do – all she could think about was running in place. Her distracted rhythm quickened with resentment, and she soon had the press at full capacity. She didn’t even notice the barrel overflowing until it sprayed her square in the eye.
“Confarnit!” she barked, skidding the press to a halt. The friction alone would have burned her something fierce had her calloused, splintered hooves any feeling. “I swear, one o’ these days…”
A bright blue head, soaked in a mint-green mane, popped out from the barn door. “Need any help, Miss Applejack?” A new hire, by the name of Atlas Indigo, strolled over. The cerulean earth pony was built like a mountain – even Big Mac seemed dwarfed in his shadow – and yet, he was timid as a mouse. Perhaps out of fear of his own strength, he was cautiously polite to everypony he met. Applejack had given up on convincing him to drop the “Miss”. It was just another straw on the horse’s back, but it wasn’t reason enough to be cross.
“Oh, hey there, Atlas,” she said, bucking one barrel aside and nudging a fresh one under the press. “I’m fine, thanks. Just a little absent-minded is all.”
“You sure?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Applejack grunted, trying to wedge the stubborn barrel up onto the press spigot. “You done fixin’ that busted water chute yet?”
He didn’t respond.
Applejack peered over. He was the strong and silent type, but far from rude. He was frozen, mouth lolled open, eyes the size of pie tins and glued to the sky behind her. She traced his gaze over her shoulder and instantly found the source of his attention. There, creeping over the woods on the other edge of town, was a thickening pillar of cloud. With grim intent it wormed its way through the otherwise beautiful sky.
“What in tarnation…” Applejack stood, just as dumbfounded as Atlas, until a blinding streak of lightning jolted them both off balance. The following crack of thunder seemed to split the earth beneath them, shaking hundreds of apples and dozens of frightened birds from the orchard trees. “Well, isn’t that just fine!” Applejack whined. “When I asked fer help buckin’ apples, that wasn’t what I had in mind.” She stormed back past Atlas, his eyes still fixated on the charred heavens. When she reemerged from the barn, saddled with a fraying, weaved basket on either side, she was breaking for the tree line. “Well, c’mon now, Atlas. We ain’t got time to let them apples all rot!”
“Miss Applejack…”
“Oh, fer Celestia’s sake. I told ya not to call-”
Her ears twitched, they burned with a soothing static – a faint crackling that lingered in the air.
“Figures,” she huffed. Her eyes turned back towards the horizon just as it lit up once more. A brilliant, blazing rainbow screeching at the heels of… whatever that was, like a dog after a cat. The echo of the Sonic Rainboom was less dramatic, at least this far out, though it sill popped a few eardrums. But the path they both traced was directly over Fluttershy’s cottage, and so Applejack turned and plodded back towards the house. As she passed Atlas, his country sensibilities still reeling from what he’d seen, she dropped the baskets at his hooves. “Save what ya can of the apples,” she said.
“Ma’am?”
“I gotta go set the table.”
“I… but… now? Why?”
“’Cause mah sister-in-law is on her way.” And with that, Applejack disappeared into the rustic farmhouse.
Sure as the winter snow, Fluttershy and family came hurrying up the dirt road to Sweet Apple Acres. Applejack was just fixing the last place setting when the knock came. She answered the door to find Fluttershy, shivering more than usual, with Big Mac and Springtime in tow.
“Well, shucks,” Applejack chimed, “isn’t this a surprise? And I just finished settin’ the table.”
“Y-you did?” Fluttershy asked, astonished at the proposed coincidence.
“Sure ‘nuff, Sugarcube. Now get yer perfectly-timed flanks in here.”
Fluttershy stumbled in on trembling legs and eyed the beautifully set kitchen table. “Were you expecting us?”
“Huh?” Applejack grunted. “Oh, no. Uh… Berry Punch said she might come over, and-“
“Oh, dear,” Fluttershy gasped. “We aren’t intruding, are we?”
Applejack scratched at the sudden itch on her nape. “Naw, we’re… we’re in an ‘off-again’ part of the relationship right now, so… she prolly won’t show anyhow.” She kicked herself inside for dragging Berry Punch into things. Their relationship was cause for enough tentative small-talk already. Most ponyfolk were keen to just let it simmer quietly, stagnantly, in a forced sort of apathy, but gossip spread just the same. It wasn’t so much the labels as the way they were muttered, behind turned backs and closed doors, in the dark corners of town. Applejack wasn’t any different. She didn’t work or laugh or love any less because of it. She was just being honest with herself and others. But, no matter the talk, she cared for Berry Punch. Her thick skin and local charm got her through the rest.
“But,” Fluttershy stammered, “the table’s set for three.”
“Oh, well I, uh… thought I’d invite Atlas, too. He’s the new hired hoof around here.”
“And the booster seat?”
Applejack’s face flushed. “Aw, shoot. I ain’t one for fibbin’.” She looked at Fluttershy’s puzzled eyes. “I reckoned ya might stop by, what with the light show ‘n all.” She offered a sheepish grin.
“So you saw it, too?!” Fluttershy asked, pouncing forward, eager for an answer.
Applejack laughed. “Honey, blind Brayin’ Bill saw that mess. Weren’t a soul in Ponyville that didn’t.” She subtly herded the family to the table as the conversation continued.
“So, what do you think it was?” Fluttershy rocked nervously on her seat, but kept her eyes fixed on Applejack.
“Ya mean, besides Rainbow Dash foulin’ up another perfect weather plan?”
“AJ,” Big Mac butted in, “this could be something big.”
“Ain’t nothin’ more than tomfoolery, y’all. And no brother, sister-in-law, or adorable niece o’ mine is gonna convince me otherwise.” She threw a look to Springtime. “Sorry, Sugarcube.”
Springtime bounced in her booster seat, banging on the table with a bubbly smile. “Applemap!” she cooed, still a few months shy of proper pronunciation.
“That’s right!” Applejack replied. “And don’t you forget it.”
Fluttershy shifted in her seat. “But-“
“Now, Fluttershy. This is yer sister, Applejack, remember?”
“Sister-in-law, actu-“
“The loyalest of friends and the most dependable of ponies?”
Big Mac rolled his eyes. How many times had he gotten that speech over the years?
“But what if it is something big?!” Fluttershy demanded, welling with tears. “What if we have to go on some dangerous adventure? With scary dragons or mean lightning ponies?”
Applejack chuckled. “If only Fate were that kind, Sugarcube.”
Fluttershy dried her eyes, staring bewildered at her friend. “Y-you mean you want to go on a dangerous adventure?!”
“Oh, Sweetie. The bits I’d pay.”
“But… but it’s dangerous!”
“And adventuresome, I know.” Applejack sighed as she stared out the window at the fading swirl of clouds in the distance.
“Well that doesn’t make any sense.” She turned to Big Mac, who offered a warm smile. One of the many things he loved about Fluttershy was her unquenchable innocence. And one of the many things she loved about him was his knack for curing nearly any fear with a soft look and a casual grin.
“Maybe not,” Applejack said, “but I reckon I know what might.” She buried her head in the pantry, rustling jars and cans and Celestia knows what else. When she finally came up for air, she held in her mouth a plate of scrumptious apple cobbler. “Who’s up for dessert first?”
Fluttershy whimpered and squirmed. Applejack sighed, placing the cobbler on the kitchen counter and walking over to her side. “Listen, Sugarcube. I know you’re worried. So am I. We all are.”
“R-really?”
“Honest to goodness,” she said with a wink. “And tomorrow, we’ll go see Rainbow Dash and ask her what happened. How’s that sound?”
“You promise?”
“Cross mah heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in mah eye.” As she poked herself unceremoniously in the eye, a curdling scream rang out from off in the distance. Far off. Everypony at the table exchanged glances. There was only one mare in all of Equestria with the lungs to reach the orchard from town, and both Applejack and Fluttershy came to the conclusion in unison.
“Rarity!”
Fluttershy turned to Big Mac, “Stay here with Springtime, please!” He nodded. Applejack was already out the front door as Fluttershy galloped out after her. She tried desperately to keep up, but it seemed playfully chasing a foal in the yard was hardly the same as sixteen hours of daily farm labor. Still she ran, throat burning with every winded breath.
“C’mon, Shy!” Applejack called back. C’mon yourself, AJ. She forced herself to run faster. Nothing about the day’s events sat right with her. Her words of comfort were as much for Fluttershy as for herself. First the lightning, then Rainbow Dash, now this. In her prime, Rarity was something of a drama queen, but over the years, she’d learned to pick her battles more carefully. If she was screaming, she was in trouble. Probably.
Somewhere along the trail, Applejack had lost her hat to the wind. It, like everything else on the farm, was musty, full of holes, and in dire need of replacement. The country mare herself felt the same from time to time. Still young, but never quite as spry. Even now, her joints were crying out for rest. A full gallop into town should have been a summer breeze. But time stops for no pony, no matter how stubborn she might be. It was moments like this when Applejack saw the wisdom in Granny Smith’s departure – in taking a breath and letting the world sort itself out for once. But there was life in her yet, and she wasn’t about to let a sour hoof or two keep her from a friend in need.
As the path cleared and Ponyville flooded into view, Applejack slid to a halt. Bounding over the last hill, white as a marshmallow pie and mane bobbing in perfection, came Rarity. Though their friendship had never settled on solid ground, it was a friendship nonetheless, and one that had weathered too many storms to give out over petty squalls. Built more on hope than trust, it was unique among the six. And yet, when push came to shove – or shove came to overdramatic faint – more often than not they found themselves on the other’s doorstep.
“Oh, Applejack!” Rarity cried, slowing to a stop, gasping for air.
“I’m here for ya, Sugarcube.” Applejack mustered what she could of a smile. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”
“They’re growing!” Her voice squeaked as she danced nervously between hooves.
“Ya finally take up gardening?” Applejack quipped. “Y’know, the vegetables are supposed to-“
“Oh, this isn’t the time for your sass, darling. It’s the crystals!” Fluttershy finally straggled into view, legs like noodles and Applejack’s hat in her mouth. “Oh, Fluttershy, dear. You believe me, don’t you?”
Fluttershy spit out the dusty old hat and wiped her tongue with her hoof. “Of course I do, Rarity. We’re friends after all. But what are-“
“See?” Rarity stared Applejack down. “Fluttershy is a true friend.”
Applejack returned the glare, but to no avail. “Well Fluttershy’s-” she caught herself. “Ya haven’t even told us what’s goin’ on.”
“Well if you’d listen,” Rarity said, a sing-song piety to her words. Applejack growled. “I was out collecting gems for a glorious ensemble this morning, when I stumbled upon one most… unusual. It stood as tall as a stallion, and shone with a brilliant, deep violet hue.” Fluttershy’s eyes widened and her lips pursed at the wild tale. “But try as I might, it wouldn’t budge. As if it had taken up root.” She paused to raise a hoof to her forehead in distress. “Then, without warning, the sky burst into light and a terrible thunder erupted from the heavens. It shook the ground with a terrible heft!” Applejack nearly gagged on the theatrics. “It split the magnificent gem, shattering it to a thousand tiny shards.” She stopped.
“And?!” Applejack barked.
“Isn’t it wonderful? Like destiny! I knew right then I was meant to have those crystals. So, I gathered them in a sack and brought them home. But when I arrived and emptied the sack on my desk, they began to… change.”
“Change?” Fluttershy gasped. “Change how?”
Rarity looked her dead in the eye. “They blackened. Like the night sky.” She broke her dramatic tone, pulling back and shaking her head in disgust. “And now they’re growing and it’s icky and Applejack, darling, you simply have to help me!”
But Applejack was busy. Busy losing all color in her coat. Blackened crystals, rooted, growing, changing – it was all too familiar. She could see Fluttershy puzzling over it, as well, grasping at the same straws. But it couldn’t be coincidence, not after everything else. Her mind was racing faster than a field mouse in an eagle’s sights. She tried to bill it as something –anything else – but the same answer kept drilling back in. They’d seen it all before, at the Crystal Empire. She’d thought they’d won, that they’d closed that book for good. She’d thought they were free of that nightmare. It was too early to say for certain, but here and now – at the cusp of everything new and mysterious – it seemed an ancient, shadowed past lay waiting to return.
It had been a slow start to a day that was anything but. Rarity was hardly a morning pony, and too many late nights at fashion shows, garden parties, and other half-remembered functions kept her a permanent night owl. Not to mention the travel. Good gracious, the travel. Business had spread marvelously – orders came in from all over Equestria – but it was never quite enough to afford a move. Most of her revenue was poured straight back into the boutique: fabrics, mannequins, renovations. Hardly a bit, much less a moment, to spare for a dream. Thus, she spent many a long night twisting and turning in uncomfortable sleeper cars on rickety trains next to miserly old ponies who snored something terrible. And the previous night had been just such an ordeal.
Today, however, was to be a rather arduous one, which required an earlier start than usual. She entertained the thought of waking up as she stumbled inelegantly out of bed, then shelved it for a later time. She had, with every passing month, found herself spending less and less effort on appearances. She was ever-so-gradually trading her title of “beauty queen” for that of “fashion empress”. The passage of time was an unforgiving harlot with a devilish grudge against glamour and grace. Rarity knew this, and she continually hemmed her circle of dreams accordingly.
As she let her mind sift and wander, a knock came at the front door. She sauntered downstairs, snuggled by her plush morning robe. A foamy toothbrush hung from the corner of her mouth. She enveloped the door in a decadent aura of sky-blue, swinging it open. Hovering at the stoop was the mailpony, Derpy Hooves, her face buried in an assortment of letters. She looked up, golden eyes crossed, and beamed.
“Hey, Rarity!”
“Oh, Derpy, darling,” Rarity mumbled, removing her toothbrush. “A bit early with the mail, aren’t we?”
Derpy pulled a pocket watch from her delivery vest, eyeing it sternly. “Hmmm, nope!” she chimed, shoving the watch in Rarity’s face. “See?” Both hands were indeed in the noon position, though the watch was severely upside-down. Rarity simply did not have the energy or the heart to tell her.
“Well,” she said with a cordial smile, “I stand corrected.” She took the letters from Derpy, thanked her, and closed the door.
Three envelopes. A slow day indeed. Rarity let out a petite yawn as she shuffled through them. The first was from Manehattan – Sweetie Belle. The writing was neat, flowery, and sprinkled with hearts, which could only mean it was time yet again for another Cutie Mark Crusader charity drive. Rarity snorted, rolled her eyes, and set the letter aside. She would send a “donation”, as she always did, for she loved her sister dearly. If only she would visit as often as she begged.
The second envelope was addressed to the Cakes at Sugarcube Corner. Without a second thought, Rarity whisked it to a cubby by the door, marked “Outgoing”; she would have to deliver it when she had time. The third, however, caught her attention. The return address was that of the Royal Office in Canterlot, and the parcel had the faint trace of aromatic enchantment. She tore it open, eager for any news – the slightest morsel of gossip – from Twilight or Spike.
She unfolded the letter and devoured the words. Dear Valued Citizen… We are writing to inform you of the location of this year’s much-anticipated Summer Sun Celebration and what you may expect from- she flipped the letter over. The back was blank. The edges were frayed, a clear sign of an unskilled – or more likely, unfocused – duplication spell.
“Oh, Twilight, sweetheart,” Rarity said, scanning the note once more. “Is this what they have you doing, cooped up in that tower?” She crumpled the letter and cast it into the nearby waste bin. She paused, dragged the letter back out, and smoothed it as best she could. Her eyes skimmed back and forth, searching until, finally, a scoff. “Hoofington!” She shuddered and returned the announcement to the trash.
Rarity lifted a dual saddlebag from the corner of the room and placed it gingerly on her back, so as not to ruffle her coat. A mirror hung against the wall near the door, for important last-minute checks. She took a glancing peek, bringing a brush to her mane and straightening the few stubborn hairs to perfection.
“Rarity,” she cooed, “you are a rose among thorns!”
It was true that, even in waning years, she had still seen the pick of the litter when it came to gentlecolt callers; though few could seem to pry her away from her work for more than a fleeting tryst. They were brief affairs, all of them, though none so brief or so spectacular as the last. Her precious Spikey Wikey had only become more brazen and persistent as he grew, and she could only feign disinterest for so long. But just as quickly as their relationship started, it was torn apart at the threads when he and Twilight were summoned back to Canterlot. It was there she wished to move, and him she wished to see. Sadly, she suspected that he, too, was like so many dreams she had left by the wayside. But on clear days, when Rainbow Dash actually kept the sky free of clouds, and it shone through with sapphire intensity, she still missed him fiercely.
It was an apt reminder. Rarity magically unsealed a small chest perched next to the mirror. From inside, she lifted a weathered gold necklace. Beset at the center was a brilliant, heart-shaped fire ruby. If she couldn’t have the whole puzzle, she would at least savor her last remaining piece. She tucked the gem neatly around her neck, and it settled into the tufted groove it had begun to wear in her coat. She stole one more look at the mirror. Satisfied with the mare she met in the reflection, Rarity trotted out the door to greet the morning.
Rambling Rock Ridge was always a dreaded trek. The terrain along the path between Ponyville and the mines changed drastically – from forest to quarry dust to jagged, unforgiving stone. It was, however, the single greatest depository of gems outside the Crystal Mountains. And her latest ensemble would require a grand number of its choicest offerings. Thus, she trudged through her own personal hell to get there. Perhaps a farm pony such as Applejack mightn’t have squabbled at the atrocities committed to her hooves, but a proper mare knew the true value of keeping up appearances.
As she delicately inched her way up the knifed edge of the bluffs, Rarity’s face scrunched into a pout. “Oh, if only Twilight had taught me that teleportation spell,” she grumbled, mindful of each treacherous beat along the way. Every loose rock and unbalanced step brought with it a mousy, timid squeak until, at long last, she arrived at the top. Puffing out a sigh of relief, Rarity centered herself with the landscape and closed her eyes.
There, at the depth of her being, was a well of magic, pulsing like a second heart, coursing its power through every vein. It was deep and calm, churning at the surface, waiting to be unleashed. Rarity dove in, tapping the very core of her essence. She adored the feeling – the intensity of drowning in her own power. It was a privilege she seldom indulged, for it was a terrible temptation to simply stay. To stay and drown. It was the very first danger every unicorn was taught upon schooling, and yet, it was still a frightfully common headline. She could only imagine how the Equestrian royalty governed such potential.
She gathered and drew the mystic energy to a concentrated network of nerves in her horn, focusing on the present task. The sharp sting of conjuration was hastily replaced by the soothing wash of release. She opened her eyes, and every gem buried within fifty feet of her was visible. She eyed several pockets, until one particular assortment caught her attention. She pranced to the patch of dirt that stood between her and her prize. She pawed gently at the soil, testing its will. With a heavy sigh, she removed a small scoop from her saddlebag, affixed it snugly to her hoof, and began digging.
Spike should be here, she pined. He was always so eager to help. A smile broke out. So eager for so many things.
From the corner of her eye, she caught a glint of reflecting sunlight. She perked up, craning her neck and searching for the source. Her eyes widened when she spied a heavenly stone jutting from the ground. She raced to its side, her body tingling with excitement.
“Hello there,” she chimed, circling the deep amethyst gem and inspecting its every facet. “I haven’t seen you here before.” She ran a hoof over the surface and felt a shock run through her core. “Ooh, goodness!” she giggled. It was clear that this was simply the tip of a much grander iceberg, and Rarity wanted – needed to know just how majestic that iceberg was. Once again, she delved into her well of magic and recast her spell of finding. The gem disappeared. “Hey!” Rarity barked. When she let the spell fade, the jewel returned to view. “What in Equestria…”
She circled again, like a vulture at the watering hole. Every tactic was employed. She dug, she pushed, she begged and demanded, she pulled with every ounce of physical and magical might she had. She even scraped. With her hooves. But all she could manage to do was unearth it to its roots. How and why a gem would have such a thing was entirely beyond her. Yet there it stood, a violet obelisk looming tall as a stallion, firmly anchored and mercilessly taunting.
She flung her forehooves around the base, muscled her heels into the ground, and heaved. “Give it to me!”
Her pleas went unanswered, save for the electric charge that ran the length of her body with every touch. She fell back, rump in the dust, defeated. Then the sky lit up behind her. In the reflection of the gem she caught the briefest glimpse of… something. Lightning, perhaps? She shot to her hooves only to be shaken straight off them by a magnificent barrage of thunder. The ground shook with fervor, then split in twain. The mines below shifted and groaned, several giving way, leaving entire new canyons in their wake. The sky burned an ominous hue. In the dizzying chaos, even the shadows of the Earth seemed to move of their own accord.
Rarity shrieked and scrambled to any speck of dirt that seemed safe. A web of cracks speared its way up the monumental gemstone until it shattered, rocketing hundreds of shards into the crumbling earth. Rarity threw up her hooves in defense as countless glistening slivers of fabulous shrapnel needled into her fur and mane. Though she had enjoyed her time as a crystal pony, this was hardly how she had envisioned a return to form. When the biting onslaught and jolting tremors finally ceded, Rarity sat back, snorted a rather unladylike sigh of relief, and brushed the specks from her coat.
“Under the right circumstances, this might actually be quite fe…eehheheh…” Her eyes bulged at the sight of all the exquisitely cut gems sprawled over the ground like a blanket of purple autumn leaves. She dug a particularly thick, well-faceted stone from the dirt, radiant even beneath a crusted layer of earth. She giggled hysterically. “Ooooo, I knew it! I just knew it was meant to be!” She gratefully patted her horn. “You have yet to lead me astray!”
Shaking the dust from her fur, Rarity composed herself and collected as many brilliant shards as her saddlebag would allow. She even tucked a few back into her mane for extra storage. They were surprisingly weighty for such miniscule fragments, which worked to Rarity’s advantage. Heavier gems had to be used sparingly, to keep garments light, which put them in higher demand and drove prices up. Though, it did make the long trot home wearisome, to say the least – the heft of the haul strained every muscle in her slender physique.
As quarry gave way to blooming woods, an uncomfortable silence smothered the world, like a thick fog, a choking stillness. The leaves stood waiting for a wind that never came, paused in mid-breath. What animals dared lurk amidst these dim and gnarled trees lay hidden from view. Rarity shuddered with an incorporeal chill. She was a staunch advocate for peace and quiet, but the Everfree Forest had always been too hushed, even for her taste. Though, in the aftermath of such an uproarious day, she supposed even Pinkie would have sounded calm.
Oh, for Celestia’s sake, Rarity huffed, drooping her head. First Spike, and now this of all things? Why not just make a dress out of ribbons and regret? She hadn’t thought about Pinkie Pie in ages, and with good reason. It’s not that she or anypony else had wished for Pinkie to leave, only that so few had truly hoped she would stay. Time is never kind to the novelty of extremes, and Pinkie’s raucous antics could hold their charm for only so long. Nerves were struck, rumors were spread, and before any of it had the remotest chance to settle, the bubbliest pony in Equestria was gone. Vanished without a trace. Dozens of search parties and scores of inquiries later, one could only assume she did not want to be found.
When Rarity finally stitched her way back to the present, she was breaching the edge of the woods. Her saddlebag felt heavier now, much heavier. Her stomach began to turn between flashes of dizziness. She could feel her face – her entire body – rushing with heat. The satchels at her side burned against her skin, and she promptly bucked them off.
“What on Earth is wrong with- Oh, sweet Celestia. Rarity paused, pushing through a hazy cloud to think. When was the last time she’d… No, that doesn’t add up. She stumbled from hoof to hoof, then threw a cautious glance at her treasure of gems. Steam poured forth from each satchel. Gingerly, she encased them in magic and forced her sickly self homeward. “Well, this has been an exhaustingly peculiar day.” She shook a touch of clarity back to her foggy head. “But at least it isn’t that.”
As she arrived at the outskirts of Ponyville, Rarity did her utmost to keep out of sight. A few bags under the eyes she could tolerate, but covered in dirt, singe marks spotting her coat and mane – she was in no way presentable to her public. Dashing from alley to alley, she made it safely to the boutique. The moment the door closed behind her, she emptied the contents of her saddlebag onto one of her many work desks. No longer were they warm to the touch, but they each began to cloud. A dark, inky mass weaved through the core of every crystal until they were all as richly black as Luna’s night. And then, the shadows came. Growing like diabolic tendrils, they stretched and twisted, consuming the desk with every inch.
Slowly – legs jellied with disbelief – Rarity backed away, opened her mouth, and let loose a dreadful scream. She pranced about the room, stirring her mind for any solution.
“Applejack!” she gasped. She sprinted for the door, breezing past the mirror. She skidded to a halt, then trotted back. She poured over her reflection, bringing a fine-bristled brush to her coat to whisk away all signs of dirt and ash. Another brush smoothed out her sweeping mane. “Well,” she said pursing her lips, “it’s not perfect...” A shadowy vine began snaking its way up her rear hoof. “But it’s passable!” She let out a shrill cry and bucked off the icy appendage. Bolting through the front door, she veered off toward Sweet Apple Acres.
As she crested the first hill out of town, Rarity saw through tearful eyes the stoic outline of her country savior atop the next. Without her traditional rustic hat, Applejack’s mane danced invitingly in the wind. So, too, did the wind sweep reluctant petals from the blossoming trees that framed the long, meandering path. Rarity was properly convinced of Applejack’s inherent beauty, and shuddered every time she veiled it behind that musty excuse for a hat. It was a refreshing sight to see her au naturel.
“Oh, Applejack!” Rarity whimpered as she softened to a halt at the freckled mare’s side.
“I’m here for ya, Sugarcube,” she said, blinking a rather vacant smile. Despite her prevailing cultural naivety, there was always something in Applejack’s rural inflections that Rarity found warmly comforting. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”
Rarity thought back to the vicious creatures, masquerading as gemstones in her very own home. The image alone caught her squirming and shifting from hoof to hoof. She looked up at Applejack, scrunching her face to the most pitiful pout she could manage. “They’re growing!” she squeaked.
“Ya finally take up gardening?” Applejack teased. “Y’know, the vegetables are supposed to-“
“Oh, this isn’t time for your sass, darling,” Rarity huffed. “It’s the crystals!” It was then that she glimpsed Fluttershy wheezing into view with – to Rarity’s horror – Applejack’s archaic hat clamped tightly in her mouth. She could only wince at what sort of torture the poor mare’s taste bud were enduring. “Oh, Fluttershy, dear. You believe me, don’t you?”
The timid pony spit out the dusty old hat and wiped her tongue with her hoof. “Of course I do, Rarity. We’re friends after all.” She cocked her head like a confused pet. “But what are-“
“See?” Rarity blurted, trampling into the conversation. She sent a mischievous glare to Applejack. “Fluttershy is a true friend.”
Applejack sneered in return. “Well Fluttershy’s-“ she paused. Rarity could sense the indignation in her friend’s voice. “Ya haven’t even told us what’s goin’ on.”
Rarity tucked her head back and waved a dismissive hoof. “Well if you’d listen,” she sang. She cleared her throat and proceeded to weave a captivating account of the day’s events; Fluttershy was particularly enthralled, she could tell. As she spun her riveting tale of intrigue and spectacle, she noticed a striking fear wash over Applejack, as if the color had been siphoned from her coat.
“We gotta find Rainbow,” she interrupted, her normally sure-hoofed drawl scathed with meekness.
“I beg your pardon?” Rarity asked, miffed at the sudden command. “Right this very instant?”
Applejack leered at her with a rather unsettling intensity. “Yes. Right now.”
“But what about my boutique?”
“From the sound o’ things,” Applejack murmured, half lost in thought, “Rainbow’s yer best bet at fixin’ this whole mess.”
“And how do you propose we reach her?” Rarity chided.
“Did Pinkie leave her hot air balloon?”
Rarity sighed. “She left quite a few things...”
“I think it’s in the basement at Sugarcube Corner,” Fluttershy said. “I’ve heard Mrs. Cake mention it before.”
Applejack shifted her gaze back towards town. “Then that’s where we’re headed.”
Sure as could be, underneath the Cake’s confectionary – collecting cobwebs alongside old design books and foal toys – was Pinkie Pie’s personal hot air balloon. It wasn’t nearly as ornate as Twilight’s, but it had kept the bubblegum pony afloat for a number of years. Fluttershy blew a layer of dust off the top of the large wicker basket, its vibrant blue and yellow hues faded with neglect.
“Is this where you bought your hat?” Rarity shot a sly grin at Applejack, who rolled her eyes.
“Har, har.”
Rarity peeked inside the carriage. All the necessities were neatly folded and tucked within. “Well, the envelope seems to be intact.”
“The who-what-now?” Applejack asked.
Rarity turned, lifting the basket and levitating it behind her up the stairs. “The balloon, darling,” she informed. “The part that makes it float.”
Applejack snorted. “Just call it a balloon, then,” she mumbled.
Outside, the sky was finally clear of all traces of the morning’s mayhem. Most of the townsfolk had returned to their milling about, albeit a tad more cautiously. Rarity gently unpacked and assembled Pinkie’s ensemble, inspecting every element to ensure nothing was loose or punctured. Thousands of meters up, the last thing she needed was a malfunction. When everything seemed in order, she switched on the burner and began inflating the envelope.
Applejack and Fluttershy looked on in bewilderment. “Where in the hay did you learn how to do that?” Applejack asked.
“I can be quite useful in a pinch, no?” Rarity winked and hopped into the basket. “If it’s made of fabric, I can- OH! EW!” She leapt straight back out. “Oh, I stepped in something!” she whined, wiping her hoof on Applejack’s shoulder.
“Well I don’t wannit!” the country mare barked. She brushed her coat clean and sauntered over to the carriage, dipping her muzzle in for a closer look. The bottom was strewn with half-eaten, long-congealed candies, content to wallow in their own sticky filth. “Well, there’s yer problem.”
“Good heavens, Pinkie...” Rarity sighed, “that’s simply barbaric.” She turned toward the Carousel Boutique, unsure of the full carnage behind its locked doors and quite unwilling to check without an army at her side. Opening an upper-floor window and feeling about with her magic, she soon produced a swathe of cashmere which she neatly tucked into the basket of the balloon. “There,” she said. “Nothing some fine linens can’t fix.”
“Can we go now, yer highness?” Applejack asked.
Rarity took one last, mournful look at her shop, silently wishing it all the best. “Yes,” she replied, climbing aboard and shifting her haunches until she was seated comfortably. “And ‘Miss’ will do fine, dear,” she added with a smile.
Fluttershy crawled awkwardly over the side of the carriage, plopping unceremoniously onto her back with a sheepish grin. Applejack followed with far more athletic grace, untying the moorings and setting the balloon lazily adrift.
Fluttershy peeped her head and forehooves over the basket’s edge as the safety of solid ground casually bade farewell. “Um, girls?” She fidgeted instinctively with the fraying wicker weave. “I don’t want to sound, well, less than optimistic, but... how are we supposed to catch Rainbow Dash at this rate?”
“One does not simply ‘catch Rainbow Dash’, darling,” Rarity proposed, bringing a file to her hoof. “You go to where she’ll be, and you wait.”
“Which is... where, exactly?” Applejack questioned.
Rarity looked up. “Why, Cloudsdale, of course.”
“Y’all do realize that two of us ain’t pegasus...es, right?”
“One is all we need, darling.”
“Well,” Applejack sighed as Fluttershy nervously studied the ever-fading ground, “half o’ one, at least.”
After what seemed a lifetime or two of scenic wonderment and a refined discussion on who would be most amusing to see pegged by the juice box Fluttershy dropped overboard, the trio finally broached the pillowy outskirts of Cloudsdale. Towering factories hiccupped out plush clouds while rainbow waterfalls poured like silk curtains from one pool to the next. Gilded and glorious, it was clear to all why Princess Luna had named it among the “crown jewels of Equestria”.
“Tarnation...” Applejack gushed, tipping her hat back to soak in the view. “Feels like every time’s the first time, y’know?”
“It is quite a sight,” Fluttershy said, slipping carefully from the basket and onto a sea of cumulo-cushiness. She gingerly stamped her hooves, reacquainting them with the sensation of cloudwalking, then looked up just in time to be bopped in the snout by a falling length of rope.
“Oh, sorry, darling!” Rarity chimed. “Would you be a dear and take us to Rainbow’s?”
Fluttershy nodded and clenched the rope in her mouth, guiding the balloon toward the residential edge of the city. Although most of Cloudsdale was accustomed to seeing the six float through occasionally, some of the younger colts and fillies still bounced and pointed, or shied behind their parents.
The trip was nothing short of mesmerizing for the girls, as well. Stifling pillars framed monumental structures. Breathtaking markets and colossal arenas heralded all newcomers. Even above the clouds, one could still feel overshadowed in the presence of such fiercely ambitious architecture. Down crowded streets and snow-chilled alleys, the trio wove their way through every district. When they finally arrived at Rainbow Dash’s house, Applejack poked out her head.
“See if she’s home, would ya, Shy?”
“Oh, um... okay.” Fluttershy inched to the front step, tapping lightly on the door. “Oh! Looks like no one’s home. I guess we should get going.”
“Aw, fer Pete’s sake, chica... give it a sec!” Applejack sighed, massaging her temple.
Fluttershy knocked again, shifting nervously on the stoop. All three of them hoped that whatever Rainbow Dash had frightened off that morning didn’t have friends lurking elsewhere. Soon enough, the door opened, revealing a rather fetching pegasus stallion. His body glistened from an afternoon shower, and a towel hugged his waist and flank. Fluttershy stumbled back, her face burning red. She tripped off the stoop, careening to a puffy demise.
“Hey, whoa. Easy there, babe,” Soarin chuckled, offering a leisurely smile. “You lookin’ for Dashie?”
“Yes, actually,” Fluttershy said as she regained her composure. “It’s... kind of urgent.”
“Aw, that’s a bummer,” he replied, his eyes tracing Fluttershy’s curves from top to bottom. “Some creep busted in here not too long ago, and she chased off after him. Poor clod.”
Rarity caught the look in his eye. “Really... then how is it you’re still here?”
Soarin peeked out the door. “Oh, hey, you brought friends.” A grin smeared across his face. “Alright.”
“Do you have any idea when she’ll be back?” Fluttershy asked, quite unaware of the advances being made.
“Nah,” Soarin smirked, “but you’re welcome to crash in here ‘til then.”
Rarity snubbed at the suggestion. “We’re perfectly content to wait outside, thank you.”
“Aw, Dashie won’t mind.” He wrapped a forehoof around Fluttershy’s neck. “I know I sure don’t.”
“Heeeyy!” A shout came from off in the distance, drawing the attention of all four. Breaking over the white, cloudy hills was a burst of color.
“Oh, Rainbow Dash!” Fluttershy escaped Soarin’s clutches and flew off to greet her friend. The two met in a warm embrace, then flew back to join the others.
“What are you guys doing all the way up here?” Rainbow Dash beamed. “You miss me that much?”
“Oh, of course we miss you Rainbow,” Fluttershy assured her, “but... that’s not exactly why we came.”
Rainbow Dash swooped down and cupped Soarin’s cheeks in her hooves. “You,” she commanded with a flirtatious smile, “my little Wonderbeast.” She nuzzled his snout then dropped him to the floor. “Go make us some waffles.”
“I’m afraid we haven’t the time,” Rarity sternly interjected, “or the interest. There are far more pressing matters at hand.”
“More pressing than waffles?!”
Applejack rolled her eyes. “I think you better tell us what happened this mornin’, Sugarcube.”
“You guys saw that, huh?” she asked, puffing out her chest. “Yeah, I showed that no-talent hack who’s Captain of the Wonderbolts.”
“Ha!” Soarin snorted. “Only ‘cause I turned it down first.”
“Aw, you wish, flankface!” She noosed him in a headlock with one hoof and scoured his scalp with the other. “Like anypony whose entire salary goes to cleaning pie stains from his uniform could make captain.”
Rarity scratched her neck in confusion. “So that... thing – that bolt of lightning – that was... a pony?”
“Get this,” Rainbow Dash said. “A stallion alicorn.”
“A stalicorn?”
“Oh, shut up, Soarin.”
“Now hold on,” Rarity said. “I was under the impression that only mares could achieve such status.”
“Yeah, you and everypony else in Equestria.” Rainbow Dash replied. “But I know what I saw.”
“Well why don’t you fill us in, then,” Applejack touted.
“Can I... fill you in over waffles?” she asked with an expectant grin.
“Ugh,” Applejack slumped over the side of the basket. “Fine.”
“Yes!” Rainbow Dash shot up into the sky, then twirled back down to her coltfriend’s side. “Soarin’, baby... it’s time to work your magic. This is gonna be one waffle-tastic tale.”
Author's Note
Sorry for the late update, everybody! I'll try to be a bit more consistent. ^-^
