It's A Magical Life

The earsplitting whistle of the Ponyville Express echoed throughout the massive cave. Ripples of sound shot down into the empty void of Dead Pony’s Pass, causing the steel tracks beneath the train to vibrate. Creeping along at the speed of a lion sneaking up on its prey, the bright and colorful ensemble of cars that made up the Ponyville Express looked much out of place in the spooky orange light. Applejack’s emerald eyes caught each of the bridge’s lampposts as the train made its way across the long bridge; her stomach couldn’t allow her to gaze down into that swallowing pit a second more.

Every tiny squeak the train made on its sojourn betwixt the gap was like a SNAP to Applejack’s ears; every ten feet the train traveled felt like a mile. All her hopes rested upon the careful mannerisms of the old stallion in the locomotive. She clung to Big Macintosh. He would suffice as her teddy bear until the gauntlet had passed.

A shimmer of bright light met her closed eyelids, encouraging her to open them. Applejack opened one eye, searching for the source of the light, which wasn’t coming from inside the already lit coach car, but from the outside. About seven hundred feet away, a speck of white was in the path of the tracks, most certainly the other side of the Macintosh Hills. Applejack breathed a balmy breath of thanks.

WOO-WOOOOOOO!! WOOOOOOOOO!! WOO-WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

The train was over halfway to solid ground, but Applejack felt her muscles tighten at the train’s whistle. “Was that really necessary?” she groaned inside her mind, closing her eye again and regaining her embrace on her older brother. Applejack wished Applebloom was with them so she could see a cute, smiling face to take away from the fear she currently possessed.

As a few more minutes passed, the train three-quarters of the way across the ravine, a very deep and low growling echoed back at them in reverberation from the train’s whistles; a long, bellowing roar of deepest magnitude. Applejack jerked away from Mac at once, and her eyes shot open.

“WHAT the hay,” said Applejack, looking around to see where the voice had come from.

“Just natural noises the cave makes when the whistle blows, honey,” chuckled Granny Smith.

Applejack didn’t believe it for a second. There was no way a simple echo could make noises that scary…

“AY!” yelled Mac out their window, sliding it down all the way. Within half a minute, the same, monstrous growls flowed back up, unsettling Applejack once more. He repeated the yell several more times.

“Cut it out, Mac,” said Applejack, hitting his thigh with her foreleg’s hoof.

“Nothin’ to be ‘fraid of, AJ,” he said, giving her a small smile. “You try.”

He pushed Applejack towards the window. Applejack looked at the two of them nervously. Even Granny nodded her head reassuringly. Applejack took off her hat and placed it on the seat, then stuck out her head and yelled:

“HAY!”

The cave bellowed back at her. Come to think of it, it sounded much too deep to come from the vocal cords of any creature she had heard before. Maybe her fear was just distorting everything again. She yelled back a few more times before sitting back down, pleased with herself.

At long last, the train reached the other side of the mile-long gap. Applejack waved at a mustached stallion in a black cowboy hat who was sitting inside the shack at the edge of the cliff. He raised an indifferent hoof and raised an eyebrow her way through the window as the caboose clacked onto solid ground.

The static from the intercom sounded again.

“Transitioning from the San Palomino Desert into the Badlands,” said the stallion.

Before anypony could say ‘San Palomino Desert’, a blinding flash of light illuminated the car as the train, at long last, emerged slowly to the other side of the Macintosh Hills, like a rattlesnake protruding from its hole.

And then…

“WoooOAH,” gasped Applejack.

As far as the eye could behold, was the expanse of one of the most formidable regions in Equestria—the Badlands. Taking up just a small portion of this mysterious sprawl was the town of Saddlebrook, the flank end of the route of the Ponyville Express. Even though the Ponyville train didn’t travel to any stops further south than Saddlebrook, the train track still extended even beyond Saddlebrook, to who knows where. Applejack had once heard about a large city in the Deep South called Hoofston, but now, looking at the barren wasteland out in the horizon, she couldn’t imagine Hoofston was in the Badlands. Coming to think of it, she had never really heard much about the Badlands, apart from Granny, who went as far to call it “Tartarus in Equestria”.

The incline of the track changed dramatically; the train was now picking up speed. The distant sight disappeared as the train was once encased in shadow. The land had shifted so they were now traveling through a shallow crevice.

Like Manehattan, Applejack wished she could grow five more sets of eyes just so she could see all that was whizzing past her.

On either side of the train track were not only the biggest houses Applejack had ever seen, but looked like both professional architect and artist had got together and created a masterpiece. Three stories of stained glass windows, wildly textured stucco, several colors of brick and luxurious balconies adorned the wonderful homes. High iron fences separated the edges of the backyards of the mansions from the twenty-something foot deep crevice where the track lay. Every now and then, a bridge would connect the two sides, joining the entire cream of the crop community. Applejack considered sticking her head out the window to follow a sweet scent filling up the train car that she had never smelled before, only to find out there was probably no more than eighteen inches that separated the car from the rock walls that flew by. This sight alone took at least two sets of eyes.

As the train was once again bathed in direct sunlight upon exiting the shallow crevice, the remaining four sets of eyes were needed for the sight that appeared at the base of the hill, which Applejack had overlooked when the train first exited Bandit Tunnel. What Applejack had initially thought was a mess of natural rock formations at the bottom of the hill was a mass of buildings! It was though every house and store was crafted out of the devilish-red rock around them, and then painted with the suntanned orange earth. The buildings, as they grew nearer, Applejack could notice were comprised of every shade of orange and red one could imagine. What Applejack had initially thought was going to be a boring old mining town was put to rest; Saddlebrook was no town. It was a work of art.

Pop pop pop went Applejack’s ears as the swift decrease in elevation teased with the pressure around her eardrums. Knowing they were probably way below sea level by now, the town name of “Saddlebrook” seemed more ridiculous every twenty feet. Applejack yawned to get rid of the pesky feeling in her ears then sighed. Twenty minutes ago, it would have been a sigh of hunger. Perhaps, maybe a sigh of relief of knowing the multi-hour journey was almost at an end. But this was a different sigh. Something only seeing Soarin’s smiling face was able to bring to her.

“Can we live here now, Grammy? Please?” asked Applejack, almost serious. Applejack craned her head backwards toward the quickly disappearing mansions, which were now being replaced with smaller and smaller houses.

Granny made a funny noise somewhere between a snort and an amused laugh, but didn’t respond with words. She was busy adjusting her sunhat, preparing for what lied ahead. She began fumbling around in her knapsack.”

“Let’s see…the address of the Chimney Inn…where did that get to—”

“The Chimney Inn?” said Applejack, the schematics of a laugh on her face. “Haven’t ya been here like six times, Grammy? Don’t ya always stay there?”

Granny didn’t respond, but pointed sharply to her head, signifying, “Ah'm old. Memory’s goin’. Shut up.”

“Ah like the Chimney Inn,” said Mac, who, unlike Applejack, seemed a bit bored. “Their diner…scones…” He yawned hungrily.

Applejack’s stomach purred in agreement. It had been several hours since they had eaten in the lunch car. Applejack had no idea what food was like in Saddlebrook, but whatever she had smelled back towards the top of the hill was what she was going to search for as soon as they got to the diner.

WOO-WOOOOOOO!! WOOOOOOOOO!! WOO-WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

At long last, the train was nearing its final braking. Applejack looked excitedly out the window as they passed a giant water tower with an equally large yellow ‘S’ painted on the front of it. Just like Ponyville, the streets were unpaved. The lampposts resembled the same design as the ones at Dead Pony’s Pass, although the light was a merry yellow glow rather than a cautious orange. The sun hadn’t begun to set just yet, but the growing shadows from the buildings and passing ponies made it evident dusk was close.

The last landmark Applejack took in was “Bull QuartZZZ”, a cheap getaway motel on the corner of an intersection.

The wizened voice of the engineer of the train came one last time overhead through the speakers.

“Good evening, everypony. We are arriving at Saddlebrook Station. Weather is clear, eighty-six degrees Fahrenheit, thirty degrees Celsius with seven-percent humidity. The three of y’all—” Applejack smiled at the stallion’s humor, “—will want to get your dolls and dishes together ‘cause we’re done for today.”

Mac slunk four bags down from the luggage rack (two of them were Granny’s) and eyed a pink neon sign out the other window that said “Barebacks”. Applejack had no idea what the sign meant, but it made the already red fur on Mac’s face go the color of maroon. He gave an awkward smile at Applejack then picked up all their bags and put them on his back. Granny, who had been searching in her knapsack all this time, finally got a hold of what she had been looking for—a slip of paper.

Granny put on her reading glasses and read the paper, which was smaller than a sticky note.

“Out the station door, turn right, and then follow the dirt road a bit,” she read carefully, like she was reciting directions to a bomb defusing. “Hmm. Well, that sounds familiar.” She took off her glasses and put them in her knapsack. Granny adjusted her strange orange sunhat one final time and then with one fluid motion, all three of them moved towards the door of the train, which had hissed to a stop.

“Thank you for ridin’ with us on the Ponyville Express. Goodbye!”

Mac, leading the way, exited the train with all the bags on his back. Applejack followed closely behind him as Granny brought up the rear, thanking one of the conductors for the safe journey.

The air was extremely dry, but much warmer than it was back in Ponyville. Summer felt like it had hit Saddlebrook already and it was barely March. Applejack bet the town probably hadn’t been hit with snow in the entirety of its existence.

“What was that about?” Applejack asked Mac in an undertone, catching up with him as they were walking into the train station. She was referring to his shifty attitude before they got off the train.

“You’re too young to understand,” whispered Mac, smirking.

Oh how Applejack hated it when ponies told her that. She could handle anything.

“The heck ah’m too young. Just tell me!” said Applejack, annoyed. Her voice was just loud enough for Granny to hear. Although Granny’s hearing was always sub-par, she seemed to have a knack for catching every syllable of secretive tones.

“Maybe Applejack ain’t so young anymore, Mac,” said Granny.

Wait…no. Granny would never say that. Was the hot air already getting to her head? Applejack turned around sharply.

“R-really?” she asked, searching for sarcasm in Granny’s voice.

“If ah didn’t think you were old enough to learn about what goes on ‘round here, ah wouldn’t have brought ya in the first place, dear,” she said rather sternly. “But it’ll have to wait ‘till we get settled in—we’ve got a ride to catch.”

Applejack assumed she was referring to a taxi coach, which also ran in Ponyville.

“Yes, ma’am,” said Applejack.

The train station, larger than the one in Ponyville, was also nicer than she was expecting. In a town she had always assumed was a grimy piece of dirt, from the stories Granny had rambled about over the years at the dinner table, Applejack still couldn’t get over the fact of how wrong Granny was.

“Tartarus in Equestria,” Applejack heard Granny say in her mind. She snorted at this blatant lie. Noticing the train station walls, (which wasn’t hard at all to do) instead of a plain coat of orange peel texture like the Ponyville Station, was a mural of an artist’s impression of Saddlebrook to a newcomer. The buildings were flashy and colorful, and the backdrop was a pretty sunset with swirling clouds. The painting enamored Applejack, for she was a sucker for pretty scenery and bright colors.

Off the to the right of the mural, towards the front door of the train station, was a much darker splash of color. Moving her eyes towards this, Applejack felt a chill run down the back of her neck. The pretty desert scenery of Saddlebrook faded to a black abyss, which was filled with horned creatures and winged beasts. What disturbed Applejack the most wasn’t the fact the monsters were full of malevolence, but that they were all reaching out towards Saddlebrook, trying to crush its Pinkie Pie-like décor in their spindly wrists. Applejack was reminded immediately of Dead Pony’s Pass and the dark hole that lied beneath it.

Granny put a hoof on Applejack’s shoulder, making Applejack jump.

“Ah knew the stallion who painted this mural,” she said fondly. “Twinkle Eye, his name, bless his heart, wanted to relate to every visitor that passed through Dead Pony. The beasts represent what he thought lied in the hole: the unknown.”

“Kinda like a monster under my bed?” said Applejack, understanding the connection. Her eyes were still glued to the wall.

“Yup, ah think so, dear. It’s no wonder why Miss Cherilee thinks you’re her best student, heh heh,” she added, chuckling, but admiring her granddaughter all the same.

Applejack, although rather frightened by the dark scene, had to have her eyes pried off the wall by Granny and Mac as they were leaving the train station. They exited the front door to find, sure enough, a taxi coach waiting for them outside.

“Granny Smith Apple?” growled the taxi pony, who didn’t seem pleased to see them at all.

“Yes, sir,” she said warmly. The taxi pony made a notion to help Mac with the bags he was carrying, but Mac fit them all into the back seat of the coach with ease. They all stepped up into the coach, which had the same style of ‘S’ painted on the side as what was on the water tower.

“Where’ll ya go, ma’am,” the taxi pony asked more politely, harnessing himself to get ready for the journey.

“Chimney Inn. Stayin’ the night.”

“Yes, ma’am. Saddle up!”

“Means ‘hang on’ here,” said Mac, noticing the confusion on Applejack’s face.

Applejack searched around for a seat belt. But there were none.

“The hay—”

CLUNK. Applejack, who failed to listen to the taxi pony and didn’t hold on to anything, smacked the back of the coach in its sudden acceleration. Mac laughed.

“Shut up,” said Applejack, readjusting her hat.

They passed all sorts of small businesses, bars and buildings with mares with heavy amounts of makeup standing outside. Something about them didn’t seem right to Applejack. Ponies back in Ponyville didn’t look like that, but she saw one of them in Manehattan once. She was especially confused when one of them was titled “The Gentlecolts Club” when there wasn’t a finely dressed stallion to be found. Worse yet, when Applejack simply tried to ask Granny about the buildings, she pretended to not hear her or changed the subject. This frustrated Applejack deeply.

Five minutes later, they had already arrived at a comfortable looking hotel with other taxi coaches waiting outside, their drivers unharnessed but looking busy preparing their vehicles. The white and red structure looked nice, but didn’t try too hard to stand out like many of the businesses there. Judging by the fact the hotel looked aged but still seemed to be quite busy, it didn’t need to be. The Chimney Inn shone in soft orange letters over the awning entrance to the lobby. They had arrived.

Applejack, suddenly moody, insisted on carrying her own bag now they were on their way inside the hotel. Granny at long last removed the silly sunhat from her head and placed it inside one of her own bags as they exited the taxi coach.

“Well…whaddya think, Applejack?” asked Granny, impressed with her choice. “50 bits a night for the three of us. For a four-star hotel, that ain’t bad at all.”

“It’s okay ah guess,” said Applejack, still wishing she’d rather be at the Wonderbolt show in Manehattan with Soarin’, but satisfied at the charm of the hotel.

Granny seemed a bit put out that Applejack was less than ecstatic of her accomplishment, but gave a small smile anyway.

“Aw, shape up dear. Once we get settled in and have somethin' to eat, ah’m sure ya’ll feel right at home.”

Applejack seriously doubted it, but decided it was worth a shot considering she was stuck here. Saddlebrook was a pretty town, but she wished she could have shared it with her friends, rather than just her grandmother and older brother.

Applejack began to follow the two of them into the lobby glass door when she noticed the reflection of the sky on the door. For a split second, Applejack thought a building across the street was on fire. However, when she turned on the spot, she noticed she was looking at not a building, but the sky.

The Chimney Inn was a bit higher than downtown, so she could still see the expanse of desert beyond the city from where she was standing. Above the desert was a sunset that she had only seen on covers of travel magazines. This was no ordinary, run of the mill sunset she saw every day back in Ponyville.

Ribbons of magenta, fuchsia, tangerine, yellow and many shades of red mixed together to form a sunset so serene, she was dumbstruck. The sinking sun caused the dusk sky to explode in color, exceeding even the mural in the train station. Sure, the mural and the house textures of the mansions up in the hills where pretty, but they were nothing compared to the beauty of nature. Her eyes watered; she couldn’t help it. She sighed longingly, her heartstrings pulled. Oh how she wished he was there…

“Beg your pardon, dearest,” said a raspy voice from behind her. A sight in high contrast to the evening sky met her eyes.

A shabby looking bespectacled grey stallion with a long mustache and messy mane was walking slowly up to her. He wore nothing but a knitted beret. A large backpack sat beside him.

“Um…me?” said Applejack, unsure of the stallion’s intentions. He looked as out of place as Applejack did, but the shifty look about him made her feel very uncomfortable. Drifters and seedy salesmen were the types of ponies Granny disliked most. But there was nothing he could do to Applejack right outside the hotel with all the witnesses around.

“Heh-heh, don’t be afraid, I’m not gonna hurt ya,” he smiled, showing surprisingly white teeth. His eyes were kind with a smile to match, but still, Applejack was suspicious. Applejack was silent. The stallion continued.

“I need thirty bits for a train to Los Pegasus. Been all over this town for over a week and haven’t made more than five.”

Applejack knew where this was headed. He was a beggar.

“I don’t want to take from a young lass, but please…I need to catch that train. The Los Pegasus Express rolls in tomorrow morning and I am desperate,” he ended with a frustrated chuckle.

If he was a Saddlebrook con-pony, he sure was a convincing one. She had brought along twenty-seven bits in her very own purse in her luggage bag. Granny had promised they would go shopping on Saturday, no matter how much money Caliber Nickelhoof managed to cheat them out of when they made their apple agreement. Giving the beggar twenty five bits would essentially destroy her chances of buying anything more than a cheap snack.

Applejack looked into the beggar’s eyes for several moments, hesitating to respond.

“Eh, who am I kidding,” said the beggar, as Applejack was still trying to formulate a decision. “I can’t take from a kid,” he added in a low grumble. To Applejack’s astonishment, as he was walking away, she noticed he still didn’t seem to have a cutie mark. How could somepony have gone that far in life without purpose?!

Applejack felt a sting of pity as she recalled her trip to Manehattan back when she, too was a blank flank. That morning she had watched the sun rise over the hills and had longed for purpose…the memory flashed like a scene from a movie through her mind. She couldn’t let anypony else feel that way…even if it was a beggar.

“Wait,” said Applejack finally, as the beggar admitted defeat and started walking away. “Ah’ve got twenty-five bits.”

The beggar couldn’t believe his eyes, but didn’t take a step toward her just yet. Applejack unzipped her luggage bag, opened her leather purse and took out a tiny sack that held her money. She took out two bits and gave the beggar the rest. She flung the two bits back in her bag and walked on over to the beggar.

“Ah wish ah was someplace else too,” she said, handing the beggar the money. He opened the sack to peek inside, to confirm she was giving him real money. His eyes then started to water, much like Applejack’s did when Pinkie Pie came back out of the Everfree Forest. He sniffed.

“Name’s All—well, you can just call me Al,” he said, wiping his eye with a hoof.

“Ah’m Applejack,” she said, smiling. “Part of the Apple family.”

“Applejack…Applejack…right,” said the pony who preferred to just be called 'Al', nodding vigorously. “Apple family…well by Celestia, I haven’t heard of you folk, but thankfully now I do.”

He put the pouch of money safely in his backpack and then slung the whole thing over his back.

“Best I be settin’ off. You better get inside before night falls. Saddlebrook ain’t kind to nopony after dark—even generous little fillies.”

And before Applejack could wish him good luck, he cantered away down the street, holding onto his beret.

“Applejack! Get your flank in here, little lady!” shrieked Granny, emerging from the lobby and embarrassing Applejack entirely.

“Comin’, Grammy!” she said.

“Goodness me, we thought ya had been fillynapped!” said Granny, as Applejack hurried inside. The lobby of the Chimney Inn was round, the floor shiny and the color of brass, like a gigantic gold coin. Several large potted plants and a running fountain decorated the lobby, a refreshing sight for weary travelers from the skin-cracking heat of the Badlands. A check-in desk sat on the far side of the room. On either side of the check-in desk were two hallways, one leading off towards the guest rooms, the other leading off to the diner and pool. Several ponies were behind the front desk, some with their backs turned to them, talking quietly.

“Ah was just enjoyin’ the pretty sunset is all,” said Applejack innocently, trying to make sense out of a confusing abstract painting on one of the walls. To Applejack, the ‘painting’, if that was considered art these days, looked like somepony had tried drawing an alicorn with their eyes closed.

Granny ignored this and instead went off on a ramble about what could happen to ponies outside at night, how Saddlebrook wasn’t anything like Ponyville and blah blah blah. Applejack had heard it all. It wasn’t like she had just decided to go off on a brain deprived adventure through the creepy alleys in the street. She was just enjoying a pretty evening.

“And that is why you should never eat chili before bedtime!” finished Granny, smiling contently like she had just told an exhilarating tale.

“Ok, Gramm—wait…huh?” said Applejack. She opened her mouth to reply, but instead, the excited shout of a colt came from one of the hallways.

“Biiiiiig Maaaaaac!” exclaimed the colt.

Applejack knew that voice. She whipped around so fast, her hat sailed off her head.

“Braeburn!” said Mac excitedly, catching his partner in crime by the neck and holding him roughly in a standing half nelson, causing his cowboy hat to fall to the floor as well. Braeburn struggled for a moment to get free, then stuck out a well-placed foreleg and sent Mac to the floor. Applejack laughed at them, trying to one-up each other. She stole Braeburn’s hat and placed it sneakily on her head.

“Aw shoot, none of that here, you two!” said another Southernly pony, this time a mare. She was around the same age as Granny and had a curly, flowery pink mane. A pair of thick, horn rimmed glasses adorned her wrinkly snout.

“Ahhh told ya ah still wasn’t too old to travel!” hollered Granny Smith to the mare.

“Ha!” said Apple Rose, Granny’s cousin. Applejack could recall countless times of Granny commenting about Apple Rose’s life in Manehattan. Some nights, Applejack could even catch Granny up late at night finishing a long letter to her, eyes red and heavy with sleep. Applejack was glad there was somepony else Granny’s age with them. That would offset all the nagging Applejack normally received for sure. But Braeburn was definitely a surprise. Braeburn had always lived in Appleloosa. Why was he with Autie Rose?

“Well ah’ll be covered in tree sap and thrown into a washin’ machine on spin cycle, y’all are growin’ like weeds. Why, ah remember when ah was yer size—”

Applejack was saved from hearing one of Aunt Rose’s ancient tales when she noticed two more familiar ponies coming up to meet them. One of them was Apple Strudel, Applejack’s nicest but weirdest uncle, the other a pony that looked only old enough to be his granddaughter.

“Apple Pie?” gasped Applejack.

“Applejack!” squealed one of the ponies, a filly Applejack’s age. Braeburn’s hat flew off her head as well as she met her beloved cousin in a giggly embrace.

“Ah didn’t see ya at the last reunion!” said Applejack. She caused their hug to sway on the spot, completely amused they had all shown up at once.

“Come to think of it, we didn’t see y’all in Appleloosa either! Heheh!” said Apple Strudel, cackling.

Applejack recalled hearing something about “the races” when Applejack questioned why Apple Pie hadn’t shown up at the reunion. She had been very put out indeed, although the charm and wild spontaneity of the Apple family didn’t keep her down for long.

“How’s Applebloom? Where is she? Can she talk yet?” asked Apple Pie, bombarding Applejack with excited questions. Applejack happily told her all about Applebloom, from the cute things she did to the huge messes she made. Apple Pie was an excellent listener, laughing and gasping at all the right times. Then came a question that made Applejack throw a hasty hoof over her mouth.

“So, ah heard you llliiike a pegasus from Maneh—”

“Ewww, heck no! Ah don’t like colts yet! Must have misread my letters again, silly filly.” Applejack blushed suspiciously as Braeburn and Apple Strudel smiled interestingly at the start of Apple Pie’s sentence. Applejack's hoof was covering Apple Pie's loud mouth.

“Huh? But in that letter you said—” began Apple Pie in a muffled voice.

“LOOK at my new hat, Apple Pie!” said Applejack, cutting her off again and rushing to pick up her Stetson. It’s my Mama Apple’s old hat.” She plopped it on top of Apple Pie’s blue bonnet, making her look very silly.

Applejack gave Apple Pie a certain look that made her realize what she had just done.

“Dangit Applejack, ah can never read yer letters very well. Haven’t they taught ya nothin’ in school, Applejack?” Apple Pie said very loudly, making sure everypony could hear the mistake she made. Whether anyone believed her or not, Mac and Braeburn went back to their own business and Apple Strudel went on over to Granny and greeted her. Applejack scowled at her, but quickly blew off her look and smiled.

Right when they were about to catch up further with each other, yet another couple of ponies caught Applejack’s eye over by the front desk, who had their backs to them when she had first entered the building. They weren’t wearing suits that matched the attire of the ponies who worked there; instead of a cherry red, they were white with hot pink ties. One of them was the very last pony Applejack would ever expect to be wearing such colors, let alone suited up like he was the richest pony in town. The pony, smaller than the other, was pointing directly at Applejack. But when he noticed she was actually looking at him, he turned sharply away, like he was a wanted criminal who had just revealed his identity.

The larger pony put a hoof around his shoulder and walked him out from behind the desk and towards the Apple family. Applejack had seen some peculiar looking ponies in Ponyville and Manehattan, but all paled in comparison to the stallion that was walking towards them.

He had the smile of a gentleman, slight and polite, but burgundy eyes that gave him a look that even a Cerberus would be sorely mistaken if it tried to bully him. The stallion’s fur was the color of vanilla. His mane was the color of dark chocolate, with a hint of the color of his eyes. The hair was long, wavy, yet professionally kept, like a celebrity rock star. The mark on his flank (Applejack couldn’t bring herself to look at this stallion and call it a ‘cutie mark’) was different from any mark she had ever seen on a pony. A cannon stood inside a nickel-colored hoof, which shined like he was wearing a decal. His suit also bore the same mark, etched neatly in atop one of the pockets on his flawlessly white suit. Coming to a halt in front of the lot of them, was a pony so filthy rich, the Orange family could have even put to shame. Owner of the only canon chain in Equestria, mining properties all over San Palomino Desert and half of Saddlebrook, was Caliber Nickelhoof—the Apple Family’s highest paying customer.

“The Apple family arrives once again. Fabulous,” said Nickelhoof, looking at all of them together. His voice, unlike his appearance, was genuinely western, like a rough cowboy.

“Lookin’ mighty sharp there, Nickelhoof,” said Granny, who definitely didn’t think he was impressive as he looked, but upheld her kindness nonetheless.

“Thank ya. It’s what I wear every Friday night,” he said proudly, yet friendly all the same.

Mac whispered funny something Braeburn about Nickelhoof’s white suit.

“Heh, yeah, Friday night indeed,” whispered Braeburn.

Applejack then turned her attention to the pony next to him, who Applejack had once called ‘Mudflap’. Caliber looked entirely embarrassed, trying his best to look insignificant and stare down at his hooves. But to Applejack, he was doing a terrible job; he looked clean and presentable for the first time she had ever seen him. His suit and tie were exactly like his fathers, although the design on his suit was the same as his cutie mark. His mane, rather than a tangled mess, mimicked the upkeep of his father’s. Applejack made a motion to show that she noticed his existence, which Caliber returned by acting like she was a monster who had just roared in his face. Why on earth was he so moody all the time?

“So where ya headed?” asked Nickelhoof, hinting that they couldn’t be possibly going anywhere more interesting than his presence.

“Ah think we were all just gonna go get a bite to eat, weren’t we?” asked Auntie Rose, confirming the statement with Granny and Apple Strudel.

“Plum reckon!” said Granny, nodding. Mac’s ears rose to the sound of the word ‘eat’ and nodded as well.

“Awesome. Why don’t you come up ‘round the house and have dinner with us? Me and Junior here were about to do the same thing,” said Nickelhoof, raising a foreleg in invitation.

“Come again?” asked Granny, but Applejack was sure she heard perfectly well. All the others seemed to be equally shocked.

“I’m having dinner with my brother, and I would be more than happy if you would all join us,” said Nickelhoof cheerfully. “A gesture of thanks for your famous Zap apples you have been selling to us for so long. Don’t make me ask twice!”

“Oh no no no, we couldn’t,” said Granny, like Nickelhoof has just gave her a pot of gold. “We’re only in town for business, not charity.”

Applejack was impressed by Granny’s modesty, for no other pony could have declined to dine with one of the richest ponies in Equestria. But alongside the modesty, Applejack wanted to shut her up just like Apple Pie. Nickelhoof just smiled confidently.

As though he secretly knew all their favorite foods, Nickelhoof began listing all of them off, and then some.

“We will be arriving by limo, to my thirty million bit estate atop the Macintosh Hills—my driveway is paved with nickel by the way—there will be fifteen kinds of dessert in a buffet style manner—”

The tone in the air changed. Granny stared off into space, eye twitching; Mac looked as though he was about to take Celestia’s throne; Auntie Rose bit her lip nervously, unable to think of a response; Apple Strudel stroked his beard thoughtfully; Braeburn had taken his hat back and was ringing it absentmindedly; Applejack and Apple Pie stared blankly at each other, unable to speak.

“Limo?” asked Granny finally, coming back to earth.

“Extended carriage. Seats ten,” said Nickelhoof carelessly, rubbing a hoof on his suit and closing his eyes proudly. “Ten minute journey.”

Everypony looked pleadingly at Granny. In fact, Applejack was convinced if they all ended up walking away from Nickelhoof’s offer, Granny would be disowned from the Apple Family.

Granny sighed and turned to Nickelhoof. A pin drop would have sounded like gunfire.

“Table for six, please!”

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

As they approached a tall front gate to Nickelhoof manor, Applejack clambered over one of the cushy red-velvet seats in the pony-drawn limo and squinted out the window.

It didn’t take long for Applejack to realize that she was looking at less of a house, but more of a castle.

“Well lasso my neck and tie me up, that’s amazin’!” said Applejack, unable to contain herself.

“That can be arranged,” mumbled Apple Pie, rubbing her head, which had just been elbowed by Applejack in her rush to the window.

Nickelhoof manor, well, castle, was more or less a mini version of Canterlot. Windows upon windows decorated the complex arrangement of towers and levels. Balconies grew on most of them, overlooking Saddlebrook, which lay far below them. The castle, like Canterlot, was near a cliff, but minus the flowing waterfalls. The whole color scheme was similar to most of the mansions in Saddlebrook, reds and browns. A rich comfort came over Applejack, like the time she first walked into her aunt and uncle’s house in Manehattan. Applejack rarely felt like she was worth anything above average, with her hand-me-down belongings and farming lifestyle. And then there was Rainbow Dash, her classmates, the taunting pegasi—ah, forget them all…at least for a while. She was hundreds of miles from there now. Her favorite cousins were here, she was a guest at the fanciest residence around, and she was riding in a vehicle that probably cost more than her whole barn. Applejack recalled her grandmother’s words the other day:

“It may not be what you want, dear, but ah can’t always let you have what you want. Part of being a nana is makin’ sure her grandkids get what they need.”

Maybe Granny was right after all…

“Knock it off, dad. I can SEE you doing that!” said Caliber, as Nickelhoof kept childishly tapping him on the shoulder, but staring smartly out the window as if he was minding his own business. He stopped at once, but broke his straight face and laughed. The rest of the carriage followed suit appreciatively.

“Heheheh, how about you smile for once, bud? I’m not out to get ya!”

“Can’t you make these bulls run any faster?” grumbled Caliber, referring to the four meaty stallions pulling the limo.

“What am I, your father or your slave?” snorted Nickelhoof, crossing one of his legs and looking back out the window. It was amusing to see the two of them bicker, as father and son. Especially considering the rich families Applejack had come across over the years. They were just another ordinary family.

BOOM! The unexpected sound of cannon fire made the Apple family jump.

“What the blazes,” said Granny, looking out a nearby window to see what had blown up. Nickelhoof’s laugh came from the front.

“Does that every time the gates open. Fires blanks.”

Applejack noticed a couple silver cannons on either side of the gate, aiming skyward. Nickelhoof, apparently, enjoyed random loud noises. If Applejack wouldn’t have known any better, she figured Pinkie Pie would have been behind it all.

A murmur of relief sounded through the carriage. Aunt Rose was still clutching her heart.

“Ah’m an old mare,” she mumbled, clearly annoyed.

“Yes you are,” said Apple Strudel jokingly. Aunt Rose whapped him upside the head, unsettling his Bavarian hat.

“What do ya think it looks like inside?” gasped Apple Pie, turning to Applejack wide-eyed.

Applejack shrugged. “It’ll make Carousel Boutique look like an outhouse, that’s for sure.”

She couldn’t help but think of the look on Rarity’s face would have been like if she were here. Rarity loved castles. Her lifelong dream was to marry a prince in Canterlot, complete with a fantasy wedding and overly expensive dresses. She told Applejack at times about a regal party up in Canterlot called “The Grand Galloping Gala”, something she also had her heart set on since she was a little filly. That’s what she really liked about Rarity, apart from her generosity—she wasn’t afraid to dream too small.

Her neck starting to ache from taking in all the sights for the past two hours, Applejack returned her attention to Nickelhoof and Caliber. Nickelhoof was discussing tomorrow’s Apple conference with Granny, which bored Applejack to tears, so she decided to try and cheer Caliber up, who she had never seen in such a cloudy mood.

“Psst, Caliber. Ya’ok?” said Applejack quietly, reaching around the seat in front of her and poking the colt in the foreleg.

“I’m fine,” he said grumpily. “Just hungry is all.”

“Heh, me too. Bet ah’m hungrier than you!” said Applejack, trying to create conversation.

Caliber didn’t respond immediately.

“Why aren’t you at the Wonderbolt show with Soarin’?” he asked.

“Ah…didn’t want to go,” she lied, making it sound as though aerobatic pegasus shows occurred in her backyard every weekend.

“Yeah right,” snorted Caliber. “Granny made you come, didn’t she?”

“Ah coulda escaped if ah wanted to,” said Applejack stubbornly.

“Ha, yeah. Just like those rattlesnakes, huh?” he said sarcastically. Bickering with her seemed to make him slightly more cheerful. Applejack ignored his annoying sarcasm and poked at him further. After rivaling with Rainbow Dash all winter, she wasn’t going to back down that easily.

“Ah like your…heh…tie,” said Applejack, poking him again.

“Hey, shut up. It’s bad enough I got to share my dad’s name. He makes me dress like him too,” he hissed, self-consciously covering up the pink tie with his suit coat.

Applejack knew she had hit a nerve.

“You mean y’all don’t want to work in a circus when you’re older? Heh, shootin’ yourself out of them nifty cannons?” she giggled at her own lame joke.

“Ha, funny. If my name’s so dumb, then tell me what the heck an Applejack is supposed to be,” said Caliber, turning around in his seat to smirk at her.

“Well, um…ya well…uh,” stammered Applejack. Caliber’s grin grew wider, but she recovered quickly.

“Well who in the hay would wanna call themselves ‘Muuudflap’? Bet your ma would be proud of that.”

If Applejack had struck a nerve before, it was nothing compared to the look he was giving her now. He looked like he saw a ghost. Applejack, taking this as a victory, laughed harder than ever. But when she regained her posture, she saw that Caliber had already returned facing forward in his seat, stiff as a board.

Applejack waited for a minute, but he still didn’t respond.

“Caliber? Hey, ah was just kiddin'…” began Applejack.

“You don’t belong here,” said Caliber finally. His voice was weak.

“Wha—”

“Just sell your stinkin’ zap apples and get outta Saddlebrook.”

Applejack had no idea what had just happened. She didn’t mean any of it…she was just trying to get him out of the dumps… She didn’t say another word, but sat back in her seat and gave Apple Pie a worried look.

“Golly, Applejack, what did you say to him?” she asked, half laughing that her cousin had made such a dent on Nickelhoof’s bratty son.

Applejack bit her lip, void of a verbal answer. However, even though one side of her conscious saw this as nothing but a joke, the other side—the much, wiser side—put two and two together. The wise conscious then planted a thought in her mind, making Applejack take off her cowboy hat. She stared at the hat for a good long while, the memory of the night she met Applebloom now fresh in her mind—and the letter that lay on top of her as clear as a midsummer sky.

“And here we are, mares and gentlecolts!” said Nickelhoof dramatically. “The night awaits us.”

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

Nickelhoof castle seemed to own every piece of Twinkle Eye’s artwork that he had ever produced. Dozens and dozens of tall, shiny-framed masterpieces of all kinds of art mediums lined the entry, as well as the hallways. The Apple Family caught a glimpse of them as they made their way to the guest lounge. Even an alike-replica of the mural back at the train station greeted them all in the nearby office, which took up an entire wall.

“That one is interesting in particular—let me tell you why—” said Nickelhoof countless times. Every time a member of the Apple family simply gave an impressed nod towards a particular painting, Nickelhoof zoomed over to them and saw this as an opportunity for a colorful tale on its history and how much he paid Twinkle Eye to paint it for him.

The interior of the castle, apart from the paintings, on the other hoof, was a whole other story. Applejack just couldn’t get over how big everything was. Although still at her rope’s end attempting to make amends with Caliber, she found herself mesmerized by the high ceilings, huge marble statues, giraffe-sized doorways, tall staircases… Goodness, her neck was probably going to separate itself from her head any moment now like bending a piece of licorice too many times.

The guest lounge was set off aside from the entry, on top of an enormous purple rug with an equally gargantuan picture of roses on it. Rather than expensive, yet uncomfortable furniture that uppity owners beheaded people for staining, red leathery armchairs were arranged conversationally about the lounge. A glass table sat in the middle of all of them, complete with the latest magazine edition of everything on top of it. The newest WONDERBOLT issue caught Applejack’s eye, but she resisted herself to obtain it.

A squat little mustached pegasus in formal attire came up to Applejack.”

“’Take your hat, miss?” he asked politely, motioning to her hat.

“Heck no, this is mine,” snapped Applejack, holding onto it. Who did he think he was? The pegasus looked taken aback at her rudeness.

“Shame on ya, Applejack—sorry,” said Granny, taking the Stetson off Applejack’s head and delivering it to the butler. “Thank you, Stirrup dear.”

The butler gave an understanding smile and politely refused, returning the hat to Applejack. Granny gave a disapproving look at her but didn’t make a fuss.

Applejack blushed embarrassingly, ears drooping, and then sunk deeply into the armchair. The chair was even comfier than the seats in the limo. She could have curled up into a little orange ball and slept there if her dang stomach hadn’t been growling like an angry bull for the past four hours.

For being in a thirty million bit castle, she wasn’t having much fun. Looking out one of the windows, she looked at the darkening sky thoughtfully, still kicking herself for hurting Caliber, who was the only pony absent from the lounge. She didn’t even know why either—he had always been so mysterious with Applejack and always avoided talking about himself. Applejack didn’t judge ponies by looking a gift horse in the mouth, she was never taught to behave in such a way, but she still had her doubts. Maybe if her social life growing up hadn’t been such a pain in the rump, she wouldn’t have been so wary.

“Aw, stop it, Applejack,” she snapped at herself out loud. She had to stop feeling sorry for herself. She had two amazing friends named Pinkie Pie and Rarity, a large family that loved her and was liked by a future Wonderbolt. She could run faster than even her strong older brother and was the only one in her whole class who knew how to rope. She just wished she wasn’t so shy all the time and stood out more.

A loud cannon blast sounded over the chattering in the guest Lounge. Applejack, who had been once again in daydream land, gripped the seat cushion in surprise, bracing for some kind of explosion. Aunt Rose freaked out for a second time, cursing the ceiling. Nickelhoof’s ears sprang to life.

“That’ll be Magnum,” he told them all brightly, getting up. Everypony in the room looked at him questionably. Was he aware that it sounded like the front of his house had blown up?

The butler pegasus zoomed down the hallway and landed gracefully at the front door.

“Not to worry, that is just the doorbell,” drawled the pegasus as he raced down the hallway.

“Who the hay has a CANNON BLAST as a doorbell?!” Aunt Rose shrieked, flinging out her forelegs wildly to the ceiling.

The door opened and closed. Applejack could hear the excited voice of a stallion with a southwest accent talking with Nickelhoof, the embrace of the two brothers, then a familiar name that caught Applejack’s ears:

“Wife is doin’ good—Rarity’s with her and Sweetie Belle on vacation—man that chandelier is big—”

Applejack had caught a glimpse of Rarity’s father a few times in the past, but she had no idea he was brothers with Nickelhoof himself! Then again…it did make sense. Rarity wouldn’t be caught dead wearing anything that was short of the latest filly fashion—or deprived of jewels. Sweetie Belle, who was Applebloom’s age, had been the phone call Rarity had received after school one day. Her mother was down at Ponyville Hospital, eager to let Rarity in on the news of her newborn sister.

Caliber emerged suddenly from a hallway leading to the kitchen, where a fantastic smell had been wafting the whole time. He met Applejack’s eyes for a second, and then walked towards the entry. Within seconds, Nickelhoof and Rarity’s mustached father appeared before all of them.

“Well, you hungry?”

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

All throughout dinner, Caliber kept glancing at Applejack, making sure his dirty looks didn’t go unnoticed. Applejack, ecstatic by the huge amount of food that piled before her, ignored him. She may have hurt his feelings, but if words were really hurting him that much, he hadn’t a darn clue what it was like to walk in her shoes.

Applejack was talking about Soarin’ in hushed undertones to a giggly Apple Pie while simultaneously having an eating competition with Braeburn and Mac—which she was winning. Mac had just started on his third plate, while Applejack was moving on to her fourth. She was practically inhaling a marvelous carrot and potato salad, while Mac was munching on a fried scone. No matter how lame of a day she had, food always made everything better. If it weren’t for the fact she worked her tail off on a farm every day, she’d be as plump as a pig!

Nickelhoof, on the other hoof, was already finished. Only mustering enough stomach to eat one plate, he was in conversation with Granny about zap apples.

“Ah told ya, Sweet Apple don’t start harvestin’ apples ‘till September. We can’t pluck ‘em any sooner or else the apple jam won’t be the same.”

“But I thought zap apple trees were,” he choked slightly on his drink, “eherm, ‘scuse me—I thought they were magical?” said Nickelhoof. He was holding a glass of what appeared to be apple cider. This type of cider, Applejack unfortunately found out, wasn’t nearly as tasty as the cider they made at Sweet Apple. In fact, it was rather disgusting. Those apples certainly didn’t come from Sweet Apple. But for some reason, Apple Strudel and Nickelhoof enjoyed it.

“They are magical, dear. And they only grow fer five days! It’s been the same way since Sweet Apple raised its first barn up in Ponyville.”

“Which is why I think you need to invest in unicorns to help…enchant the process, ma’am—”

Granny shook her head throughout the whole sentence.

“Ah’m not gonna hire magic, Nick. ‘Specially not our family’s honest crop! Ah appreciate the generous offer, but if ya want the apples sooner, you’re just goin’ to have to move to Ponyville, heheh!” she ended with a chuckle.

“Then how about I add a, oh let’s say…50% increase to my bid? 55?” Nickelhoof emptied his glass and casually handed it to the butler, Stirrup, who was standing conveniently nearby.

“Make it 60% and y’all got yerself a deal.”

Nickelhoof stared at her for a few seconds. “You serious?”

Granny chuckled again. “Nope.”

Nickelhood let out a sigh and shook his head, still smiling. If there ever was a salespony who didn’t know the meaning of the term “give up”, Nickelhoof was the one.

“Aw, you kiddin’ me?!” yelled Caliber, who was sitting next to his father and had just knocked a whole glass of carrot juice all over Magnum’s dinner poncho. The juice stained the table cloth instantly and worked its evilness on the white carpet as well.

“Stirrup, refill his glass and clean this up,” said Nickelhoof, his face in his hoof. His wavy hair shook embarrassingly.

“Aw it’s no big deal, brother! I’m a clumsy dog for keeping that glass in such a spot, haha!” said Magnum, getting up to allow Stirrup to do his work.

Nickelhoof ignored his brother and jumped on Caliber’s case.

“That,” he said, pointing at Magnum’s high-quality poncho, “was your uncle’s Hearth’s Warming Eve gift. 500 bits."

“B-but it will wash out!” said Caliber, humiliated. Even Magnum nodded to this, but Nickelhoof still continued to ignore him.

“Don’t argue,” Nickelhoof said. His eyes were dangerous, like a bull was being tempted with a flashy cape. The look was scary. “And you’re going to drink that outside,” he added, noticing Caliber was about to take an angry drink of his refilled glass. Nickelhoof pointed out a set of double glass doors that led from the kitchen and onto the patio.

The room was quiet, anticipating a fight. But Caliber, red as Mac, abandoned his full glass of carrot juice and slammed one of the glass doors. It was a miracle it didn’t shatter into pieces.

Fully aware of Nickelhoof’s roughness, but not daring to make an objection, everypony returned to their normal conversations. Applejack, however, decided she wasn’t hungry anymore.

“Go talk to him, Applejack,” she demanded herself, sitting on the edge of her chair and staring into the nickel-colored plates of food that lay before all of them.

“Isn’t that one of his friends?” said Apple Pie quietly, looking behind her chair out the glass doors.

“Whose friend?” said Applejack absentmindedly, still rocking back and forth anxiously on her chair.

“Soarin’...,” said Apple Pie in a “um, duh?” tone.

“Oh ya. ‘Course, yeah,” said Applejack. “They’re best friends.”

Applejack knew how it felt to be unjustly embarrassed in front of a bunch of ponies. The constant pranks and teasing of the ponies back home in the past made that image stick firmly in her mind. Rainbow Dash, although less of a threat now that she used to be, still made sure Applejack never one-upped her for very long. Her recent trick was making fun of Applejack’s hot temper discretely in class. But verbal abuse was all she dared dishing out to Applejack. For a pony who claimed to be so brave and loyal to her friends, she was still a coward. Nickelhoof may have not been a coward, but he still had the air of a bully; a bully who sat atop his social throne and saw every pony who crossed him as a court jester—even if Caliber was his son.

Apple Pie made an attempt to ask Applejack another question about her would-be-boyfriend but Applejack wasn’t listening. Making a decision, she got up from her seat and left Apple Pie hanging. She closed the glass door behind her quietly.

The patio (which was also nickel instead of concrete) was lit warmly by free burning torches. The torches looked like shade-less lamps, six feet tall and placed decoratively around the patio. All over the patio were wooden chairs with comfortable leather cushions that matched the ones in the guest lounge. Every glass table had a basket of flowers on it, most of them being roses.

Caliber was sitting on the ground with his hind legs in an enormous, swimming pool, playing moodily with the water. The pool was fully lit, complete with a running waterfall on one end. Applejack had never been to a pool party before; even though she was one of the few ponies she knew who could swim. But she could tell Nickelhoof’s patio parties must have been legendary. Applejack had a sudden urge to push Caliber into the pool in a very Rainbow Dash-like fashion. Just for fun. Just to (weirdly) showed she cared. But she refrained.

“Don’t cry over spilt carrot juice. That’s what my Grammy always used to say,” said Applejack, keeping her distance. Caliber must have heard her come out, because he didn’t jump.

“I a’int cryin. I don’t cry,” sniffed Caliber, Applejack noticed he had stopped playing with the water, but ripples were still forming in the pool. Applejack waited a minute to speak again.

“Ah know how it feels to be the black sheep ya know,” said Applejack quietly.

Caliber kicked the water. “You don’t know nothin’ ‘bout my life,” he spat.

“Well that’s because you’re always such a dang mystery!” said Applejack, annoyed.

“Look, I’m sorry ok? It’s just…it’s just…”

“Least you could do was tell me your real name,” said Applejack, sitting down on one of the chairs and folding her forelegs.

“I…hate…my name,” said Caliber. He untied his tie and chucked it into the center of the pool. “I hate it.”

“But why? You’re stinkin’ rich!” said Applejack. “Do ya know how lucky you are to—”

“I didn’t yell ya my real name because I don’t wanna to call myself by my dad’s name,” said Caliber. “I will never be like him…”

He got up from the side of the pool and faced her, forelegs also crossed. He definitely had tears in his eyes, but they were tears of fury. Applejack wanted to sock Caliber right in the gut for being so stubborn but at the same time wanted to hug him.

“Uncle Magnum calls me Mudflap,” said Caliber. “Something how I always catch my dad’s ‘mud’. The mud’s s’pposed to be how rough he’s with me all the time... It’s…stupid really, but better than...” he screwed up his face to the silliest look he could muster, “Cali-burrr”.

Applejack laughed. She saw the smallest of smiles flicker across his face, then vanish like it had never been.

“Why did your mom and dad name you Applejack?” said Caliber.

Applejack shrugged sadly. “Ah don’t think ah have a ma and pa anymore.” She wasn’t sad she never knew her parents, but saying that sentence still made her choke up a little. Caliber noticed this at once.

Caliber dropped his act and walked over to Applejack.

“Wait, whaddya mean…Applejack…” said Caliber.

“It’s not a big deal, ah never knew them anyway,” said Applejack, she pushed her hat down so it hid the same old storm of annoying tears brewing in her eyes. Why did she have to do this now? Her friendly plan of cheering up Caliber had backfired.

Caliber had come up right next to her. He lifted the hat up gently, but Applejack didn’t object.

“I know what it’s like to not have a mom, Applejack,” said Caliber. “I never…knew her either.”

He looked away sadly, but didn’t leave her side.

“Ah’m sorry…what ah said…” said Applejack.

“Don’t worry about it. Really,” smiled Caliber, putting a damp hoof on her shoulder. The water was warm, but the touch still gave her goosebumps. “I guess it was kinda dumb for me to get so mad at ya if you didn’t even know.”

“What was her name?” asked Applejack.

“Rosemary,” said Caliber fondly, looking off over the railing of the patio. Far below, the orange lights of Saddlebrook flickered mysteriously in contrast of the Badland’s foreboding darkness. The name was far too good for those lights. Applejack felt a warm chill touch her neck when the name was spoken.

“That’s…the purdiest name I’ve ever heard,” said the Spirit of Honesty. She imagined an earth pony as elegant and beautiful as Princess Celestia, walking along the cracked dirt of the Badlands and causing flowers to grow in her tracks.

Caliber gave her a meaningful look.

“Thanks, Applejack,” was all he could say. The cascade of the waterfall filled the silence that followed. The muffled chatter of the ponies inside the dining room was miles away. Applejack kind of wanted them to stay that way. Just for a little while…

“You wanna see something cool?” said Caliber, holding out a hoof to pull Applejack up.

“Yes,” said Applejack, taking his hoof right away. A tingling sensation hit her legs, like they had just been turned to jello.

Caliber led her through an iron gate and through a stone archway underneath a walkway that connected with a three story tower. The outside walls were torchlit, also like a real castle. There may have been something interesting to look at here and there, but Applejack wasn’t fully paying attention...

“Watch this,” said Caliber. They had come to a larger, circular tower a story higher than the rest of Applejack’s—er—Nickelhoof’s castle.

The tower was covered in flowers, most of which were still budding. Vines and moss also grew in the cracks of the stone slabs that made up the outside of the tower. The door, which was wooden and aging, also had the same vegetation upon it. A single pink rose design sat in the middle of the door where an eyehole may have been. The windows were all dark, evident that this wasn’t an often used area of the castle. High above, towards the top of the tower, were glass windows that ran all the way around like a lighthouse.

Caliber knocked on the door three times, like Rosemary was home. Three small, seemingly cemented bricks slid out beside the door. Applejack was fascinated as Caliber pushed them in a code-like order and the door rose upward like a drawbridge. Caliber, who was still holding onto Applejack’s hoof, raised his eyebrows proudly and pulled her inside. The door closed, causing an echo.

They were in pitch black. She clung to Caliber.

“Don’t be afraid, Applejack,” he said. Another mechanical sound of stone sliding, and they were in darkness no longer. Torches began lighting themselves all the way up the tower, revealing a metal spiral staircase that rose up to the top. The inside of the tower looked like a grain silo to Applejack. Except for the torches and the mossy walls, only the staircase filled up the tower.

“Where are we, Caliber?” asked Applejack wildly.

“You’ll see!”

Holding hoofs tightly, they broke into a gallop up the staircase. Applejack easily kept up, her ponytail bouncing around and whacking her in the face. Soon, they panted to a halt underneath a ladder that rose to a trapdoor. The door was unlatched, like somepony had been there recently.

“It’s kinda hard climbing a ladder holding your hoof ya know,” said Applejack as Caliber put a leg up and started to climb.

“Oh, yeah, ‘course,” he said, blushing. They looked at each other for a second.

“Up the ladder then,” said Caliber quickly. When he got to the top, he punched the door open, making it swing over and hitting the floor of the top landing. Applejack, taking a deep breath, climbed the wooden ladder towards Caliber’s grinning face.

“Whoa...,” breathed Applejack. “Woah” was the only thing her mouth would allow to escape her lips.

They were essentially in a greenhouse that had been built at the top of the four-story tower. The last of the torches lit around them, showing the large circular room that they stood in the middle of. Even though the tower looked ancient, all the flowers looked like a gardener continuously watered them, the wood still being damp in places from the brush of a watering pail.

Applejack, still being a filly in school, didn’t know the meaning of the word love, but there was no mistaking the feeling of being in such a spectacularly odd place. She loved being outdoors and everything about the natural beauties of Equestria, right down to the muddy earth where she planted crop seeds. This, on top of being in a castle, like every pony’s dream, was far greater than attending a Wonderbolt show to her.

“This was my grandma’s ‘flower tower’ that my mom liked growin’ her own flower beds in,” said Caliber, closing the trapdoor. “Dad said she hated how the Badlands were always so rocky and bare. She got her cutie mark up here as a filly when she was with my grandma.”

“So,” said Applejack, mesmerized by all the colors, “If your dad wanted to be rich and your mama wanted to work in gardens…what does your cutie mark mean?” She had been meaning to ask this for a long time but never really summoned up the courage to ask about it.

Caliber looked at his flank. “My sun and cactus?” he said brightly. “I want to explore the deserts.”

Applejack’s heart leapt at the word “explore”.

“I love explorin’!” said Applejack, jumping off the ground a few inches enthusiastically.

“Me too, I’m gonna discover everythin’,” said Caliber. He then began telling Applejack about his cutie mark story, which like hers, was a sort of adventure.

“Shoot, you sound like as big of an adventure-freak as Rainbow Dash!” said Applejack. She had meant that to be a compliment, but his face fell when he heard her use Rainbow Dash’s name.

“She doesn’t still pick on ya, does she?” he said with a fiery glare to his eyes. “Because if she does, I’ll…I’ll…”

The noble truth was, she still picked on her worse than ever, but Applejack just refused to let it bother her. She stuck up for herself now.

“Not really…ah just wish she would leave me alone for once. Ah don’t wanna fight her no more,” said Applejack. The bitterest truth was she just wanted to give up. She half wished she could just run away for a couple years or so until she finished Ponyville Elementary.

Caliber wasn’t satisfied with this answer.

“Did my dad bug you about all those paintings in our house?” he asked, rather annoyed, walking over to the only section in the circular greenhouse that hadn’t had glass in it. Two white curtains were shut over the blank wall, as if they were hiding another window.

“Yeah, they were really pretty! Why are you mad all of a sudden?” she asked, frightened as to what she did to offend him this time.

“I’m not mad. You and Rainbow Dash just reminded me of somethin’ the artist named Twinkle Eye painted. My mom loved it more than any other paintin’ he ever did, so she had dad hang it up here.”

“What…?” questioned Applejack. Was he going to show her a painting of Nickelhoof being blasted by a cannonball?

Caliber pulled both of the curtains back, revealing what was in fact not a blank wall at all, but a painting.

A fierce lion, flashy mane, golden fur and all, had its fangs bared down towards a little white lamb, which was gazing lovingly back up into the lion’s violent eyes. The lion was a hundred times bigger than the lamb and could have eaten it in one gulp. Yet, Twinkle Eye made it clear in his painting that not even death itself seemed to phase the lamb. The lamb obviously saw something in the lion the normal lamb would not.

Applejack was no art expert, but she immediately felt a connection with the lamb. She immediately didn’t see just one color on the lion’s man, but six. The fur became blue and the back sprouted wings. But those menacing, angry pink eyes were nothing she could ever love. All she saw in them was a monster that belonged at the bottom of Dead Pony’s Pass. But she was not afraid. She wanted to beat that sorry pegasus all over again, and again. And again and again and again and again and—

“Applejack, you ok?” asked Caliber fearfully. Applejack was seething, her nostrils flared, the bull within her rearing up for another attack.

She didn’t answer. So much hate was enveloping her. Unnatural, un-Applejack-like hatred was now splashed bloodily over the lamb’s face. The lamb was now black, its eyes red like beasts from Tartarus tales of old. Its wool became thorns, which connected to vines, which wrapped around her body. The vines knotted and pulled at her like a boa-constrictor suffocating its victim. She couldn’t breathe. But she could hear…ohohoho yes she could hear. The laughing and the taunting of all the white lambs were ringing in her ears. She wanted to remove all their mouths and kick them to the moon. Nopony pushed her around. Nopony.

Caliber closed the curtains so fast one of the rings ripped off one of the curtains. He made a terrible mistake indeed.

Slowly, but surely, Applejack’s eyes returned to normal at the curtains’ close; her cheeks became orange again and an omelet could no longer be cooked on her head.

“Let’s go, Granny might be wonderin’ where I’m at,” said Applejack, making her way over to the ladder.

“Wait, Applejack! I’m sorry, don’t be mad at me! I’m sorry…” said Caliber, as Applejack began her descent.

Applejack looked back up at him. His eyes were full of blame, as if he had even remotely anything to do with Applejack’s sudden Rainbow Dash rage. He turned around and started down the ladder, clear that his cute little getaway was a failure. But Applejack headbutted his flank back up the ladder and returned to the landing. Before Caliber could even retaliate to such an attitude, Applejack walked straight into him and gave the colt a¬¬¬ hug that she had never given Soarin’. She hugged him like a teddy bear, like her long lost, very best friend. Every positive emotion she had been feeling for the past two years was in that hug. Caliber’s rich cologne smelled nice, but it wasn’t that made her cling to him for an entire minute.

“Soarin’ can enjoy his own dumb Wonderbolt competition,” said Applejack.  She broke free and climbed down the ladder. Caliber remained in his spot, dazed at what had just happened…but followed suit.

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

“You know, all I hang out with around here are colts,” said Caliber as they returned to the pool. Along the way, Applejack told Caliber about a funny experience she had with Pinkie the other day. “And you don’t want to meet the fillies and mares here; especially the ones down…downtown.” He ended his sentence with a weird sort of laugh that reminded Appleajack of Mac’s expression back at the train station.

“Why?” said Applejack. Granny had promised to tell her about this, but predictably, forgot.

“Alright, I’ll tell you. But this is pretty weird…” he began.

Applejack’s expression started out with the utmost interest. Then as Caliber blushed deeper and deeper, her face went from curiosity to complete disgust. She felt her face reddening too.

“Ewwwww,” she said, clutching her hat and pulling it over her ears like he was telling a spooky tale. “The hay?! Well ah’ll be—EWWW! Nu-UH!” yelled Applejack, punching a snickering Caliber in the arm at his sleazy tale of “what a mare and stallion do when they ‘love’ each other very much…and the colt has enough money” and “why they really call it Saddlebrook”…

Caliber gave a yelp of pain from the powerful punch but his laugh increased ten-fold.

“Hahahaha! And then…and then…,” but Applejack jumped up from her chair and started to chase him around the patio, Caliber roaring gleefully the whole time.

Applejack eventually cornered him on the peninsula in the pool.

“Applejack, please don’t! Don’t do it, I’m sorry! I was kidding on that last part!” he pleaded, as she prowled closer. Her hat had fallen off somewhere by a group of chairs they had overturned.

“Somepony’s going swimmin’ tonight!” said Applejack, panting.

Just then, the glass door to the patio opened. Apple Strudel, swaying slightly, was holding a glass of cider. He walked over to them, smiling like he had just heard something deeply funny.

“Ya seeEEE the top of that moun’un over there?” said Apple Strudel wildy, pointing to a far off peak in the distance. “That’s the top!”

“Yeah, um…right,” said Applejack, taking note of her uncle’s irrelevant observation. Uncle Strudel smacked his lips, took another drink then turned 180 degrees on the spot, back through the patio door. Applejack could see him doing a weird kind of jig over by the now-present dessert dishes through the glass.

“Your…family…is…awesome,” breathed Caliber, a new wave of laughter washing over him. And without any ‘help’ from Applejack, or even the slightest of breezes, he lost his balance and plunged comically into the hoof-shaped pool.