Dreams Recalled

II. She hated the cold season

Harmony 2000

If there can be said to be any common ground between modern and pre-Equestrian faith, it may be the mythology of the Crystal Mountains. The mystique of the region is such that neither Equestria nor the former states of ponydom have ever sought to conquer the Crystal Empire—at least, not militarily. Unicorn tradition holds that ponies first appeared in the northern climes as Crystal ponies and as they descended southwards lost their lush, glittering coats and became thinner, darker and less civilised. Of course, this myth died with the formation of Equestria; however, similar beliefs concerning Princess Celestia and Princess Luna have remained extant. As all educated ponies know, there is in some regions a strongly held conviction that both Alicorns were born in the Crystal Mountains, born from a sparkling spring under a perfect blue sky on the last day of ponykind's most unforgiving winter. Their purpose: to restore and maintain a new order amidst the devastation of the Windigo War.

These notions have been long since abandoned by the Canterlot aristocrats and the city-dwelling champions of free enterprise but are still held to be true in rural areas. Further north, the myths become more obscure. Ponies raised on the borders of the Crystal Empire ascribe no such positive intent to their Princesses. They have been diplomatically described as pre-Equustrian star-worshippers and less diplomatically as anti-Equestrians, but the most appropriate term is probably neo-Astronians. They are followers of the Astral Path, once the state religion of the unicorn empire. The most singular of their beliefs is that the Princesses were sent by God as punishment for the sins of ponykind, and when their subjects once again become too bold, too rich, too haughty, a great evil would be set upon Equestria far worse than the windigos to return it to a suitable state of submission. One day, two thousand years after Princess Celestia first appeared, that evil came to a village called Sapphire Ridge—or at least something came that very closely resembled the worst of a northern unicorn's apocalyptic visions.

Whatever it was that came to Sapphire Ridge came with the cold. The reddish shrubs of the tundra had frosted over and the fog had descended upon the dales of the Crystal Mountains to vanish away the most northerly of villages and drape its veil across the whole base of the range. Even from the distant moorland a good eye could see that the mountains were suspended on winter’s cloud. Sapphire Ridge lay on the geographical crossroad between those ice-scorched plains, the mountains, and the pine forests choked by snow. It previously held the distinction of being the Equestrian town closest to the Crystal Empire. Now its only distinction was that it had been the site of seemingly the largest mass-murder in Equestria for centuries.

Scouts brought the survivors of the attack to the police headquarters in Crystal City for questioning. Information was scarce—the scouts said that it was like nothing they had seen before. It was as though the citizens of Sapphire Ridge had one day decided to slit their own throats. Corpses lay on the street and in the square, in beds still covered by their sheets, and in kitchens with their muzzles pushed into their breakfast, blood congealing in the oats. Their possessions were untouched. There was no ransacking, no wreckage—no evidence that any attack had occurred besides the bodies. Princess Cadance contacted Canterlot as soon as the full extent of the damage was assessed, stressing that Equestria and the Crystal Empire ought to pool their resources and launch a joint-investigation owing to the scale of the attack and its proximity to the Empire’s territory.

Out of Sapphire Ridge’s tiny population of 234, three survived: a young unicorn couple and their filly. They had been hiding in a concealed bunker under their house, apparently built by the paranoid father in case of emergency. His wife had regarded it with a great deal of skepticism, supposing it to be a waste of time and money. She almost allowed herself a bitter laugh when she realised the irony.

They had never even visited a highly populated place before. As they were driven down the street in a protected carriage, the mare wondered aloud if any other unicorns were here while the filly clung tearfully to her side. The father only stared wordlessly at the streets drifting by. The scout who had discovered them remained in their car but there was nothing he could say.

The carriage arrived at HQ in the early afternoon and the family was quietly escorted inside. Cadance received word from Celestia shortly thereafter and authorised an investigation. Thankfully, the press had not been alerted. It was now a matter of ascertaining what had attacked Sapphire Ridge before it struck again. The Empire had never dealt with a mass killing since its reappearance, and there was some contention over which department ought to handle the investigation. Ultimately, good intentions won out over politics, and the case was placed in the hands of the Imperial Police, responsible for large-scale crimes that were relevant to the whole of the Crystal Empire.

The father had remained inside during the killing and hadn’t seen the invaders, while mother and foal were at the local shop. After they were given some time to themselves, the mare was led to a well-lighted and sparsely furnished questioning chamber. Across a table stood a grey stallion. From the top, he began with fine, almost mare-like features but ended more satisfyingly with thick, sculpted legs.

“Hello, madam,” he said. His voice was deep but delicately accented. “My name is Sharp Lens. I’m a detective here in Crystal City.”

“I’m Limestone Glow.”

Lens nodded. “My pleasure, Mrs. Glow. I just have a few questions about the attack you witnessed.” He paused and levelled his finest sympathetic gaze upon her. “Now, I understand that you’ve been through quite an ordeal. Believe me, madam, the last thing we wish to do is cause you further unhappiness, so please don’t hesitate to ask for a break if you feel under pressure.”

“…Yes.” The mare absently shook out her mane, which was cyan, long, and straight. “It’s okay. I’ll answer.”

“Very well. As you wish,” said Lens, turning to his notes. “What did you and your daughter see when you were at the market?”

“I—thought it was…” Limestone Glow trailed off and looked down at the table. “…maybe a storm. From the west or something. Sometimes the storms come over the mountains and get all the way to us in Sapphire. There was a sound like thunder before it came.”

“But it wasn’t a storm?”

“No.” Limestone traced circles on the floor and closed her eyes. “It looked like a cloud coming down from the sky, but there was some monster in it. Magical, like a unicorn, but bigger. It made the sky go dark above it, and these—things came out of it.”

“Things? Ponies?”

Limestone frowned. “Like ponies, but not normal ponies. Earthies—I mean, earth ponies…”

Lens raised an eyebrow.

Limestone continued, “They were like earth ponies, but they—I’m getting ahead of myself, though. First, there was the mist—the mist they brought down. My daughter Quartz and I were walking through the square and then suddenly we couldn’t see anything through this thick mist. Something inside the fog made a terrible sound, like I said. At first I thought it was thunder in the distance, but when I heard it up close it was like a buzzing. It was deep and almost sounded musical—like a funeral drone. Have you ever been to a traditional unicorn funeral?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“They bring out these big horns and play this low drone repeated over and over. It’s very mournful. I think it’s meant to represent the wheel of life and death. This sounded a little like that, but louder. I could barely hear myself speak.

“Somepony screamed in the fog. I nudged Quartz and we hurried to get home. We heard more screaming. I didn’t pay attention because I just wanted to protect my daughter. There were strange shapes in the fog and I ran to get away from them. But it was so difficult to see.

“I only saw one of those things for a moment. It leapt in front of me and I backed up against the fountain. The creature was like an insect. It looked like an earth pony, but it had a hard brown skin. Its eyes bulged and its mouth was twisted up—I didn’t see it long enough to get a clear picture. It made a shrieking call and I stood still so it wouldn’t notice me.

“I wasn’t really thinking anymore. I mean—I don’t remember much except the sounds of the droning and the screaming together and that I saw our local greengrocer lying on the ground. I thought we were going to die. But the creature moved away and we came to our house safely. When we got the bunker, we heard one of those creatures come into the house and search around above, but they never found us.”

Sharp Lens raised a fore hoof to his brow. He was by no means a novice when it came to crimes of scale—he made his name in the department dealing with the recent outbreaks of gang violence in downtown Crystal City—but this was entirely new to him. Then again, he and all his fellow citizens had been vanished away to the void for a thousand years. Could it be that a whole new type of pony had appeared in the mountains during their absence?

Limestone shifted forward and spoke again. “I don’t know if this makes any sense, but I think I might know what those things were.”

“What?”

“Well”—Limestone swallowed uneasily—“my grandparents told me that before Equestria was made, the unicorns used to have their own country and they made monsters out of other ponies. And some ponies believe that the monsters are going to come back to make us pay. I think we’re being punished.”

Lens sighed inwardly. Just a folk superstition. Of course the unicorns up here were still talking about Astrony. It was all they ever thought about, he reckoned. They’d act sometimes guilty, sometimes prideful—sometimes just deny anything troublesome about their history. Some things didn’t change, even after a thousand years.

“Well, we’ll certainly look into it,” he said diplomatically. “Thank you very much, Ms. Glow. Feel free to retire to your room and we’ll come to you if we need something.”

“You ought to look into it, you really ought to,” said Limestone. “This won’t be the last attack.” She made to leave, shakily. Lens started, as if to help her, but she waved him off.

Lens left the chamber with his mind rapidly spinning out possible explanations for the supernatural narrative he had just heard. A strange mist and a droning sound—magic could do that, so presumably a unicorn was involved here. As for the creatures, perhaps Limestone had been mistaken and they were simply armored earth ponies that she misidentified in her panic. Regardless, it was already shaping up to be one heck of a report.

In the Crystal Palace nearby, Princess Cadance had just received a new communication from Celestia. As she read it in a private chamber adjacent to the throne room, her calm and noble countenance was transformed: at first, her elegant brow curled and wrinkled in confusion, but as she read on, it flattened into shock. Finally, though, it was fear that broke her away from the words and turned her eyes large and frantic.

*****

Sheltered by the Freehorn Mountains, Buffalo Head Bay stretched some fifty miles across the east coast of Equestria, on the intersection of two great aerial currents: buffeted on the east by the icy winds from the ocean in the winter and thawed by the warm western winds that rolled slow and easy down the slopes in the spring and summer. Across the mountainous region, the warm winds were traditionally referred to as the Loer and sometimes caused splitting headaches, if folklore recalled by discontented grandparents was to be believed. Buffalo Head itself was one of Equestria’s older settlements; it remained a singular mix of quaint traditionalism, shielded from outside interference by the mountains, and a modest cosmopolitan character thanks to its even mix of unicorns, pegasi and earth ponies. It was here that in Harmony 1981, a local unicorn mare opened a bookstore.

She was known to be a peculiar type in Buffalo Head,  separate in spirit from her neighbours. A strange dark petal, reticent and bookish, giddy and intense, her character was not well understood by the townsfolk. As a teenage schoolfilly, she was silent and fragile, her lips thin and tight, her purple coat revealing only the hint of a red flush in her cheeks, simmering with some mystic imaginings. She preferred books to ponies; she could see something of herself in them.

When she came of age, her grandmother Velvet Thyme died. The widow of a local businesspony, Thyme left behind a rather decadent house by Buffalo standards, which her daughter sold for a fair fortune. It was with this money that the granddaughter opened her bookstore.

Just six months after the shop was opened, the filly met a unicorn stallion from Fillydelphia who worked as a teacher at her local high school. He was educated at the University of Canterlot, and seemed to her a learned and worldly pony compared to the insular, ponderous Buffaloites. She fell quickly in love. They married in 1985 and by her, he begot a son and a daughter. Though both showed promise in the magical arts, the filly in particular was a gifted mage from the first spark her horn produced, and shortly before she entered school, they moved deeper into the mountains to Canterlot and opened a new branch of their business. It was there that the filly of Twilight Velvet and Night Light caught the eye of Princess Celestia.

In her later life, Twilight Velvet was the epitome of the converted Canterlot unicorn. She responded with deference to the snobbery of the haughtier locals and with awe to the fine manners of the cosmopolitan professionals in the upper echelons of Canterlot society. She was not a social climber; her infatuation with the capital was genuine and innocent, and she spoke warmly of its beauty to her children, who carried her love for Canterlot forward into their own lives, Buffalo Head Bay long forgotten. The daughter, Twilight Sparkle, would always regard Canterlot as her proper home, even when she was sent away from the city to study friendship in Ponyville, a formative experience by her own admission. When Princess Celestia made her designs on Twilight Sparkle clear and the young mare earned her wings to become a Princess of Equestria, it was quietly assumed by most parties, her parents included, that the new Princess would assume a role in government as Princess Cadance had; however, Princess Celestia, in her characteristic fashion, did not reveal her long-term plans for Princess Twilight even then. Instead, she gave the young Princess a simple command to return to Ponyville for the winter and learn to fly.

Twilight Sparkle’s loyalty to the Princess was unquestioned from her earliest lessons with her. If she was disappointed that her mentor had not been more obvious in her intentions, she never showed it. After a nationwide tour of Equestria, during which her celebrity grew across the country, Twilight returned to Ponyville and her friends, followed invisibly by Celestia’s interests, whose symbolic presence could no longer be ignored now that her gifts to Twilight were incarnate. Still, she would do her duty by the Princess.

Today was the day. She could feel it. For sure now—she would fly.

Surveying the white fields from atop the hill, she felt like a medieval conqueror. All the world seemed visible, from sparse Ponyville to the far off shapes of the proud Freehorns, within which was nestled Canterlot. The ponies below were nothing but insects from here, but today her foe was the sky.

Up above her, the expanse of cloud was uninterrupted. Not exactly optimal conditions, she thought. But then it never was.

Princess Twilight Sparkle spread her wings and launched off the ground, swooping upwards in what she hoped was a majestic arc. She climbed ever higher, the chill of the wintery air on her face only serving to fuel her adrenaline. The wind whistled in her ears and she felt the lurch of acceleration as she pulled up her legs. Yes! She could do it! The sky was hers to master!

“Yes!” she yelled. “Rainbow Dash, I think I’ve got it!”

An updraft from behind threw Twilight’s right wing off-balance and she yelped. Suddenly, she was hurtling back down towards the snow, spinning every which way. She flapped helplessly to slow her descent, but she was overcome by confusion and dizziness. By the time she had reoriented herself, she was facing the fast-approaching ground.

There was a snicker from behind her as Twilight raised her aching head out of the snow. Shaking away the wetness, she glared at the offending pony.

“By my count that’s five times she’s crashed in Sweet Apple Acres just today,” said Applejack. “What’re you teaching her anyway, flying or skydiving?”

“Hey, you can’t expect her to fly like me after such a short time,” said Rainbow Dash, landing next to Applejack. “Actually, you probably shouldn’t expect her to ever be as awesome as me, but I bet she’ll be outflying Fluttershy in a couple of weeks tops.” She turned to her dazed student. “That was a lot better, Twilight. You just need more control. This is the hardest part.”

Twilight groaned as she stood up, holding a hoof to her head.

“Please don’t placate me. I’m just bad at this.”

Rainbow Dash chuckled, trotting over to Twilight as she shook out her mane.

“I don’t get it,” continued Twilight. “I’ve read everything I can about flying—the physics, the history, every guidebook imaginable…”

“You’re never going to learn to fly from that stuff,” said Dash. “I never read one guidebook when I learned.”

“She’s right, y’know,” said Applejack, “I never needed a book to work the farm. You'll learn by doing it.”

“I guess that makes sense, but I’m not like that.” Twilight shivered, gazing forlornly at the pony-shaped hole she’d left in the snow. “I’m better at learning without the doing. You know that.”

“No one’s knocking it, Twi,” said Rainbow. “It’s just crazy boring. And flying is the opposite of boring!” She soared up to perform a quick loop-de-loop.

Twilight rolled her eyes and looked around to get her bearings. The path to the Apple family home was ten yards or so to her right. Leafless trees decorated the fields, coated in snow.

“This place is really beautiful in winter.”

“I’ve been cleanin’ up after the weather since dawn everyday," grumbled Applejack. "The work ain’t worth the view and I’m plumb tuckered out. I reckon this winter’s started too early.” She shot Rainbow Dash a look. Rainbow stared back at her obliviously for a couple of seconds before the penny dropped.

“Hey, don’t blame me! The weather’s the weather and we have to stick to schedule. Besides, I don’t make the decisions.”

Twilight sighed and zoned out as the pair began to bicker. She wished vaguely there was a better place for her to practice her flying. Applejack was always willing to goad Rainbow Dash into some kind of argument, and her boisterous friend was easily distracted. Eventually, Dash turned to address Twilight.

“We should finish for today,” she said. “I think you might have pushed yourself too hard. You’re looking pretty beat up.”

“Yes, I guess you’re right.” If nothing else, Twilight’s newly formed bruises had to concur with Dash. “I’ll be okay, though. Anyway, Spike coughed up a letter from Princess Celestia this morning that I haven’t read yet.”

Rainbow Dash trotted over to Twilight and gave her a quick look over. “Actually, you really do look hurt, Twi. You sure you don’t want any help getting home?”

Twilight shrugged and shook her head no. “I’ll be just fine. Thanks.”

“Are you sure? It’s no trouble for me.”

“No. Really.” Twilight managed a wan smile.

Dash drew back somewhat. “If you say so.” After a pause, she brightened and added, “Meet me here next week and I promise your days of sucktastic flying will be over!” She pumped a hoof to emphasise her point.

You said that last week, thought Twilight, but she held her tongue and smiled. As she left the farm, she couldn’t help but laugh when her friends immediately resumed their argument. Maybe she could get some solo practice in later.

*****

Opalescence mustn’t have been hungry on that particular morning, because Rarity found herself awoken not by her cat’s insistent mewling as per usual, but by the rather more piercing sound of her alarm clock. Quite a novelty, she thought, waving her hoof vaguely in the direction of the noise until it connected with the clock’s metal surface.

“Opal! Where are you?” Rarity sat up in bed, pulling off her sleep mask and releasing a soft yawn. “Good kitty.”

The cat was nowhere to be seen. Supposing that she was still asleep, Rarity got up and stretched out her sleepy forelegs before turning around to make up the bed, running her hooves carefully over the mauve duvet and fluffing up her pillows. It took her until she had brushed her mane for Rarity to notice her terrified cat clinging to a branch of the tree just outside her window.

Rarity shrieked and rushed downstairs. This was hardly the first time her ill-tempered pet had managed to get herself stuck in that tree—besides that time that her friends had planted her there. She hated to admit it, but Opal wasn’t exactly overburdened with intelligence. Still, as Rarity burst out of Carousel Boutique, the cat managed to suppress her fear enough to throw her owner a contemptuous look. Sighing, Rarity concentrated, and a blue glow surrounded Opal, who meowed resentfully in response.

“Goodness, you’re heavy,” muttered Rarity. “I think it’s high time we cut down on the gourmet kitty food.”

“Hey Rarity, need a hoof?”

Twilight's voice from her left made Rarity start and she nearly dropped Opal.

“Why, thank you, Twilight,” said Rarity, recovering quickly. She felt the burden of Opal’s weight lessen as Twilight focused her magic on the cat, and the two unicorns carefully lowered her from the tree as she waved her claws ineffectively at them. As soon as her paws touched the ground, Opal stood frozen in wide-eyed confusion, and only after a few moments waddled back into the boutique. Rarity raised an exasperated eyebrow.

It was only then that Rarity remembered that she had performed exactly zero of her necessary grooming rituals before coming outside. She was a mess! What would Twilight think? A blush burned hotly on Rarity’s cheeks as she turned to explain herself to her friend.

“Twilight!” she exclaimed. “I really must apologise for my appearance. I really don’t know what I was…” started Rarity. Her words evaporated when she saw Twilight. Why, she looked like an overripe peach with all those bruises! And there was mud and slush in her mane!

“Oh, my,” she squeaked, “What in Celestia’s name happened to you? Are you all right?”

“Haha, yeah, I’m”—Twilight winced as she lifted her foreleg for emphasis—“just fine. No problems here. I just had my first flying lesson from the top of a hill. Up until now, I’ve just been sticking to flat ground. It’s no problem.”

“My dear Twilight, please!” said Rarity. “You must come into my home and rest. I’ll make you some hot tea.”

“That won’t be necessary,” said Twilight, chuckling. “But thanks.”

“Oh, I insist!”

It took a little cajoling to convince her, but it wasn’t long before Twilight found herself seated in Rarity’s living room, staring at her furniture while her friend prepared tea. The hypnotic sound of boiling water emanated from the kitchen.

“You don’t really need to do this,” said Twilight. “I was actually heading home when you found me.”

“You were limping, Twilight, and I won’t hear anything else from you” called Rarity from the kitchen. “You can stay here as long as you need.”

Twilight threw a worried glance in Rarity's direction before turning back to stare at the rug. Unsurprisingly, it was soft and elegant affair, light purple in colour—no, not purple, Twilight corrected herself. After all, Rarity wouldn’t tolerate such imprecision when it came to décor. It was violet, not purple. Lilac, maybe. That’s right, thought Twilight smugly. I can do this too.

She turned back towards the kitchen door, and her neck protested by means of a painful twinge. A high-pitched eep escaped her lips. She hated to admit it, but maybe the rest wasn’t such a bad idea. Her condition was pretty bad.

As the bubbles started to dance in the boiling water, Rarity was thinking about the flight training that had led to Twilight’s condition. The newly minted Alicorn had remained tight-lipped about Celestia’s plans for her, and insisted that her friends simply pretend that nothing had changed despite her royal status, at least for now. Rarity knew as well as anyone that Celestia was training Twilight for something, but she couldn’t for the life of her figure out what that was.

What Rarity did know was that just a few days ago, Princess Celestia had darkened her door in the middle of the night and carried her away to Canterlot. She didn’t return until the following evening. With surprising conversational deftness that differed from her usually awkward manner, Twilight had avoided any discussion of the visit and downplayed its importance. Undoubtedly, she was guarding some kind of royal secret, and Rarity supposed she had no right to pressure Twilight about something like that—still, she felt like the friend she’d known was drifting away from her. To see Twilight disheveled and embarrassed was almost a relief, reminding Rarity that the self-conscious, fallible Twilight Sparkle remained beneath the wings and the title. Regardless, she wondered what exactly was motivating Twilight to push herself so hard.

Presently, Rarity finished the tea and returned to the pensive Twilight. They exchanged pleasantries and Twilight hobbled over to Rarity’s coffee table with a wan smile. Rarity gave a comforting nod and headed into her room with the intention of cleaning herself up as much as possible in the time she had. She managed to get about ten minutes of alone time before there was an urgent knock on the door to the boutique. Growling under her breath, Rarity stomped back through her shop.

“We’re closed today!”

A muffled voice replied, “Rarity! It’s me, Spike! Is Twilight there? I’m looking for her. It’s super important!”

Rarity groaned under her breath and moved to open the door, revealing an exhausted Spike. He was clutching two letters in his claws, one of which was unopened. Panting, he trudged inside and plopped down on the floor.

“Hello, my dear,” said Rarity. “Twilight happened to pass by my boutique, and she looked awfully sore after her flying lesson, so I invited her to stay here for a little while. I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until she’s feeling better.”

“I’ve looking everywhere for her! I got an urgent letter from Princess Celestia this morning. It’s super important. She even sent me a letter as well telling me to make sure Twilight writes back before the end of the day.” Spike waved one of the two scrolls. “She really needs a response.”

“Now, now, you don’t have to worry. You can wait here until Twilight comes out.”

“Yeah, okay,” said Spike bashfully, “It’s just this is super important and—uh, well, I’m n-not actually supposed to be telling you anything…”

Now, maybe this could be interesting, thought Rarity. She couldn’t resist the opportunity. Smiling sweetly and crouching slightly so that she was nearer to the baby dragon’s eye level, Rarity watched as a hot blush rose in her young admirer’s scaly cheeks.

“Whatever could be so important?” she asked in pouty mock-confusion, “My dear Spikey-Wikey, I promise you can trust me.”

Spike scratched at his scales uncomfortably. Rarity’s charms were as delicate and sweet as they were brutally systematic.

“I’m s-s-orry, it’s a secret. I can’t tell you.”

“Oh, but I’d be so upset if you didn’t think me trustworthy enough to share it. Please, Spikey-Wikey.” Rarity batted her formidable eyelashes at him.

Spike was staring very intensely at a sleek red dress on display just behind Rarity. He didn’t want to disappoint Twilight or Princess Celestia, but he really didn’t want to disappoint Rarity.

“You have to promise not to tell,” he said in a low voice.

“Of course, darling,” said Rarity, winking conspiratorially. “I promise. It’ll be our little secret.”

“Y-yeah,” mumbled Spike. “I’ll tell you, but I don’t know a lot. Twilight hasn’t told me very much.”

“It’s quite all right. I just need to feel that you can trust me.” Rarity flashed Spike a teary smile. He beamed and pushed out his chest.

“Well, from what I hear, there’s this really old enemy of Princess Celestia’s and she’s come back to Equestria. Twilight says that she’s as old as the Princess is.”

“What sort of enemy? Is it Discord again?”

“I don’t know,” admitted Spike. “Princess Celestia is very worried, though. Twilight will be going back to Canterlot really soon to deal with it. She’s already getting packed up.”

Rarity frowned. It was a relief that Twilight wasn’t hiding anything sinister. In her fanciful imagination, Rarity had imagined Celestia to be gradually prying Twilight away from Ponyville and her friends—such a dreadful thought! Of course, this was hardly good news, but Twilight was a very powerful pony and Rarity was inclined to place faith in her ability to deal with this.

“Has this enemy done anything yet?” she asked.

“I—don't know that either. I don’t think the Princess is even sure about this yet,” said Spike.

“You don’t think the Princess is sure?” Rarity repeated.

“I’m sorry, I said I didn’t know much,” said Spike, blushing. “But she wants Twilight to help deal with it.”

“She also wants Twilight to keep it a secret,” said the familiar voice of Twilight Sparkle from above. Rarity squeaked in surprise, while Spike immediately fell over himself in an attempt to apologise.

“Twilight, I’m sorry! I mean, uh…” said Spike “It’s Rarity. We can trust her, right?”

Twilight was at the top of the stairs, holding up her hurt foreleg. Her eyes flicked between Spike and Rarity, who was ineffectively attempting to affect a proud, disinterested countenance. With an annoyed sigh, Twilight shook her head and descended the stairs.

“Twilight! Why, you finished your tea very quickly!” Rarity wore an uneasy smile.

“Yeah, well, you might not know this, but I actually have a pretty urgent letter to read.”

“I apologise for going behind your back,” said Rarity, “but you know I hate to be out of the loop.”

“Everypony’s out of the loop,” said Twilight. “I’m sorry, but this is private business.”

“Private business? An enemy to Equestria?”

“It's an matter of national security,” said Twilight. “We don’t want to cause undue panic. You can’t tell anypony about this. Please, Rarity. We have to trust the Princess.”

“What’s going to happen?” Rarity asked.

“I don't really know exactly, but—I repeat—we have to trust the Princess,” said Twilight. Her horn glowed and the letter popped out of Spike’s claws. As she unrolled it, she looked up to see Rarity staring intently at the scroll. “No, Rarity.”

“You can’t be serious! What could possibly be in there that’s so very terrible?”

Spike spoke up, “Hey, what about me? I don’t like it when you keep secrets from me.”

“The Princess ordered me to!”

“Twiliiiight!” whined Rarity, stomping petulantly. Twilight closed her eyes and snorted in irritation.

“Seriously? Sometimes you’re about as much of a lady as…”—Twilight looked at the expectant Rarity, whose raised eyebrow dared her to continue—“actually, never mind. And you know what: okay, sure. I’ll read you this one. I mean honestly, the Princess isn’t likely to just send out a letter filled with confidential information. But! You absolutely cannot tell anyone. Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” said Rarity, grinning.

“Great.” Twilight turned to the scroll and read, “Dearest Twilight. It’s as I feared. The incidents continue south of Sapphire Ridge.”

“Sapphire Ri—”

“Don't get excited, it’s just a name,” interjected Twilight. She continued to read, “It may only be days before it reaches Fillydelphia. We know who is responsible. It is time for you to return to Canterlot, in—indefinitely. Don’t worry about your Ponyville friends; they will be needed, and will be called here when the time is right. For now, tell them whatever you need to tell them in order to return here and help me with preparations. Please respond as soon as possible to confirm. Your friend, Princess Celestia.”

Twilight let the scroll drop to see Spike and Rarity looking at her wide-eyed. Tapping her hoof anxiously, Twilight presented them with a wan smile. Rarity let out a dainty sigh and trotted towards the stairs.

“Well, it didn’t tell us much about this enemy of yours, but at least now I know exactly where I stand.”

“Please don’t be mad,” said Twilight. “You know I have to do this.”

“Oh, I’m not mad, darling,” said Rarity, looking back at Twilight with a cheery smile. “Not at all. You’re taking me with you to Canterlot!”

Twilight started. “Why would I take you to Canterlot? I just told you to keep this secret. Are you threatening me?”

“You must see the potential here, Twilight. Why, firstly, it would a perfect cover story.” Rarity flipped her hair. “You know how I feel about Canterlot. As a highly esteemed designer, I have plenty of very good reasons to travel there—it is the heart of the Equestrian fashion industry, after all—and as my friend, you have even more reason to accompany me.”

“I don’t know,” said Twilight. “Celestia gave me very specific orders. This whole ‘threat to Equestria’ stuff isn’t frivolous, you know. Ponies have…” She trailed off, shaking her head.

“Well, if this matter is so very serious, then surely my presence will be a comfort. Not to mention, the Princess wrote that we’d be invited up regardless. I’m looking after Sweetie Belle at the moment, but if my parents still aren’t available, I’m sure I could leave her at Applejack’s and come up there to lend you a hoof—for at least, oh, a couple of weeks! What’s more, it’ll be fun! Why, we haven’t had a proper day out together for far too long. We’ll have some time for that, right?”

Twilight raised a skeptical eyebrow, and Rarity added, “Besides, I’m sure Fancy would be delighted to see me.”

Twilight registered Rarity’s real intentions at the mention of Fancy Pants, and her face immediately softened. Rarity had told her about her interest in him a little while ago. Twilight remained unconvinced as to whether it was because of his good character or his noble status, but she was happy to support any of her friends in their pursuits.

“Okay, Rarity. You can come with me to Canterlot, and you can be my cover story.” Twilight paused. “You know, you could have just said that you wanted to see Fancy.”

“Oh, darling, thank you! I’ll pack immediately.” Rarity trotted away with a self-satisfied expression, ignoring Twilight’s last remark.

“Rarity’s coming with us?” asked Spike excitedly.

Twilight smiled at him and nodded. Truthfully, the apprehension she’d shown was mostly out of loyalty to her mentor. Her relationship with the Princess was gradually being complicated by new responsibilities, and it was a little overwhelming. All things considered, she’d be grateful for Rarity’s company on this trip. Still, new or not, those responsibilities came first, and she felt queasy to imagine Princess Celestia’s reaction to all this.

“The Princess wants me to leave as soon as possible, so how about we get the train tomorrow at noon? That gives us today to tell the others and pack. We’ll all meet at the library in the morning and we can say our goodbyes then,” asked Twilight. “I’ll book the tickets, so don’t worry. You can pay me back later.”

“Sounds great to me!” was the response from upstairs.

“And uh, thanks for the tea…”

Rarity listened as the door closed, and then fell back onto her chaise longue. She supposed that she should have been more concerned about the threat to Equestria, but she couldn’t suppress her excitement when she thought of returning to Canterlot. The culture, the fashion, the society! And, of course, her dear Fancy. There were so many noble unicorns in that city but only he had such easy charm and grace, and such a lack of prejudice. She knew he cared for her too, but clearly he needed her to show him something more. She could flirt with every stallion in Canterlot and drive him mad with jealousy, and only then reveal her true feelings, when he could hardly stand it anymore!

Sighing and falling back on her cushions, Rarity pressed her hooves to her cheeks as she thought of Fancy. He was the epitome of aristocratic charm. His elegant features and flowing mane were spellbindingly beautiful, and the delicacy of his looks was offset so appropriately by that strong, masculine horn. She knew he must like her. He had shown her such kindness in all the time she had known him. Last year, there had been a special Hearth’s Warming celebration in Canterlot as the Equestrian calendar moved into the Year 2000, and Fancy had danced with her more than any other lady as the fireworks exploded above them. If only she could get him alone, she knew that he would ask her for her hoof on the spot, and she would say yes, and they would a wedding so grand that ponies would still talk about it decades from now!

Rarity tittered lightly. Perhaps she was getting ahead of herself, but then she was hardly the type to remain meek and unsure when it came to her own aspirations. Of course, she also fully intended to help Twilight with anything she asked, whatever it was. She absolutely couldn’t forget about her friend, even if she was bound to secrecy for the moment.

Now was the time for preparations, though. Sweetie Belle would be waking up soon. After Rarity was through getting ready, she would speak to her, and then head up to Sweet Apple Acres to tell Applejack and ask her about looking after Sweetie Belle. There was no time to lose.

Outside, the chilly sun emerged from behind clouds to gently push away the shadows hanging over Rarity’s room. She smiled.

*****

The Apple family wasn’t known for quietude. At almost any time of the year, you could find Sweet Apple Acres just by following the shouts and laughs and calls, the busy squeak of wooden wheels as produce was moved about the farm, the thumps of hooves bucked against trees to shake loose the apples in fall, the enthusiastic hoots of encouragement between relatives. In winter, however, the farm turned barren, its residents shivering indoors around the hearth, with bowls of hot, thick oats and mugs of cocoa. It’s in our blood, old Granny Smith told her younger kin. The Apples came up from the Southlands, she said, where it was hot all year and no ice and snow was there to thicken their coats against the cold. For as long as anyone in Ponyville could remember, it was generally known that an Apple would rather lick the backside of a pig than suffer the cold longer than she had to.

Applejack, shivering in her boots outside, fully intended to see that this family tradition remained unaltered. She probably would have been attending to that already were it not for the presence of a restless Rainbow Dash determined to get her blood pumping this morning, even if that meant making her participate in an endless string of friendly races all through Sweet Apple Acres. The two ponies were standing among the trees, the snow beneath them muddied by their hooves.

“But I’ve got nothing else to do!” complained Dash. “Just one more race. Best of fifteen, okay?”

“I can’t run no more races, Dash!” said Applejack. “I’m sorry, but I just ain’t one for the cold. If y’want, come on inside and you can have brunch with me and Apple Bloom.”

Apparently, Rainbow Dash had no assignments today. The snow lay heavy on the land and the clouds were drifting lazily across the sky. With little to occupy her after Twilight’s flying lesson, she had let the task of keeping her entertained fall to Applejack.

Dash just groaned in response to Applejack’s suggestion, so she continued, “If you don’t want to hang about here, then don’t you have anything better to do? Lives that need saving? Wonderbolt training?”

“Hey, I didn’t say no yet!” protested Dash. “I’ll stick around for brunch, I guess.” She paused, and then very deliberately added, “Since you won’t do anything else.”

“That’s what I like t’hear! Come with me.” Applejack sighed inwardly in deep relief and trotted back towards the Apple home. The things she’d do for a friend.

Applejack had always felt a natural closeness with Rainbow Dash due to their shared interests, but since Twilight Sparkle’s ascension, it seemed like they spent most of their free time together. It was a comfort of sorts, even if it meant spending an unspeakable length of time racing fruitlessly around Sweet Apple Acres when it was too cold to feel your own hooves.

As usual, Apple Bloom was thrilled to see Rainbow Dash and was upon her as soon as she laid her hoof on the welcome mat. After she was through bombarding her with questions about her most recent escapades, the ponies sat down at a table before the hearth and Applejack went to retrieve their food.

“Is Twilight doing well?” asked Apple Bloom. “I saw you teaching her flying.”

“Yeah, I think she’s good,” said Dash. “She’s not a natural flyer, but she’s getting better. Helps to have the best as your teacher.”

Apple Bloom laughed and said, “She looks real beautiful with those wings.”

“Yeah, she sure does,” agreed Rainbow, staring down at the Saddle Arabian rug.

Applejack returned with three large bowls of oatmeal and the ponies tucked in. It wasn’t long before Rainbow and Applejack were going for seconds, and then thirds. Apple Bloom made some derisive remark about her sister’s eating habits that made them both laugh, but it was quickly forgotten when they were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. Still chuckling, Applejack stood up and made to answer it. The cold air rushed in.

“Applejack, good morning!” The visitor was a bright-eyed Rarity, dressed up in a pink scarf and brown studded boots. “How are you?”

By Celestia, thought Applejack, that pony sure does like to look good. She supposed it wasn’t a bad thing, but how anyone could think about how they looked when it was this cold was a mystery to her.

“Hey, Rarity!” called out Apple Bloom. The unicorn offered a cheery wave in response.

“I’m just fine,” said Applejack. “Thanks for asking. What brings you to my neck of the woods?”

“I need to ask you a favor, I’m afraid,” explained Rarity. “I’ll be going away to Canterlot with Twilight for a little while—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” interjected Rainbow Dash, turning towards the door. “Twilight is doing what with you?”

Rarity beamed. “She’s going to Canterlot with me to help me promote my upcoming collection! It’s a little impromptu because I had to reschedule some appointments, but we’ll be off tomorrow.”

“Oh, fashion. Okay.” Rainbow Dash looked away.

“All right,” said Applejack slowly. “What’s this ‘bout a favor then?”

“Well, I can’t take my dear Sweetie Belle to Canterlot. My sister needs a roof over her head and someone to take care of her.” Rarity shot a smile at Apple Bloom, whose head snapped back towards the door at the sound of Sweetie’s name. “If it isn’t too much of a bother, could you please let her stay with you? If you can’t, I’d be more than happy to look elsewhere—it’s just that I’m sure Apple Bloom would be very happy for Sweetie Belle to stay here.”

“Yes, I sure as hay would!” exclaimed Apple Bloom. “Please let Sweetie Belle stay, Applejack!”

Applejack smiled at her sister. “Of course we can do that, Rarity. Y’know we all love Sweetie ‘round here. For how long?”

“Only a couple of weeks, if it’s all right by you. Twilight and I are meeting at the library tomorrow at noon. You can come and see us off and pick up Sweetie Belle there, if you like”

Applejack’s eyes widened, but her grin didn’t falter. “It’s a lil’ short notice, but I reckon I can take her on just the same!”

Apple Bloom let out a yell and hopped up and down in place. The adults shared a grin at the filly’s excitement, although Applejack silently hoped that she hadn’t made a big mistake.

“Thank you thank you thank you! Big Sis, you’re the best!”

“Well then, get yourself upstairs and lay out the spare bed!” said Applejack. “May as well start preparing ourselves early.”

Apple Bloom immediately obliged and Applejack turned back to face Rarity. She couldn’t put her hoof on it, but something wasn’t right about this trip to Canterlot. There was a subtle discomfort in Rarity’s demeanour that might have gone undetected if she were talking to anypony else. Not Applejack.

“Rarity,” she said carefully, running a hoof awkwardly through her straw-coloured mane. “I don’t mean to pry or nothing, but what’s going on with Twi? I feel like there’s something more to this here trip of yours.”

A flash of panic breached Rarity’s fragile features. “Twilight is quite all right, I assure you. It’s just that I needed some assistance—”

“Consarnit, Rarity!” exclaimed Applejack. “You and I know that something is up with that pony. You said it to me yourself, for the love of Celestia. Yesterday.”

This was true—Applejack had bumped into a miserable Rarity in town, and she’d repeated the same words that Applejack had been hearing from everypony: Twilight Sparkle is pulling away from us. It had angered her at the time. Despite their differences, Applejack had a peculiar friend in Rarity. They were very much unlike one another in the fundamentals; Applejack perceived the world in straight, clear lines drawn by fate or circumstance, whereas Rarity seemed to live in a shadowed network of social possibilities, all of which might be transformed into opportunities if the need arose. Her mannered speech and social deftness were curious to Applejack, who in her moments of doubt sometimes felt a shameful envy for Rarity.

“You’re quite right, Applejack. I apologise.” Rarity looked somewhat humiliated, and Applejack regretted the harsh tone she had used with her. “There is more to it than fashion, but frankly, it would be a breach of trust for me to reveal more than I have. Just know that Twilight is going to meet with Princess Celestia to discuss something big that might be coming to Equestria soon. Oh my, I’m already saying too much.” Rarity looked down and mumbled, “I’m sorry Applejack. If you’ve changed your mind about Sweetie…”

“Aw, don’t talk like that now.” Applejack tried to cheer Rarity up with another grin. “Course I’ll look after Sweetie Belle. I get you about the secrecy thing. Twi’s my friend too and I wouldn’t want to break our trust neither.”

Rarity’s smile returned. “Thank you. I’m glad you understand. I just found out what I know through sheer chance anyway. I promise that everything will be made clear in a few weeks.”

“That’s just great, Rare,” said Applejack.

The two ponies made their farewells and shared an awkward wave as Applejack closed the door.

“I do all that work teaching her flying and she spills her secrets to Rarity?” moaned Rainbow Dash. “What is up with that pony? Did you see how hurt she was today? I didn’t wanna say it to her face, but what in Equestria was she thinking trying to fly off that hill?”

“Don’t you worry now, Dash. I’m sure it ain’t nothing.” Applejack plopped down next to her friend and playfully prodded her side with a hoof. “Rarity said she found out by accident anyhow.” Dash sighed and toyed absently with the empty bowl in front of her.

“Hey, you trust Rarity, don’t you?” said Applejack. “She knows about whatever’s going on, and she ain’t panicked at all. And that pony is the biggest drama queen in all of Ponyville! You got to believe things’ll be okay if she’s acting calm.”

Rainbow Dash smiled wanly at Applejack. “Look, I appreciate that you’re just trying to cheer me up, but I just need to fly this off or something. I’ll maybe come back later if it’s all right—I dunno, we can compare muscles or whatever. Or talk, maybe.”

Applejack laughed and cleared the table. The two mares said their goodbyes and Applejack offered Dash a hug, which she returned stiffly. Rainbow Dash exited the house and took off at a leisurely pace. As her blurred form was swept up in a blanket of clouds, Applejack stood in the doorway watching.

Whatever Princess Celestia is feeding Twilight, she thought, perhaps it had something to do with the wrongness she felt this winter. What she had said to Dash was true—the cold season shouldn’t bite so hard this time of year. She could sense that something was off in the air, like when a dragon neared Ponyville, but this feeling was broader and more universal.

Applejack shivered again. She hated the cold.