Haunted House On The Prairie

Chapters

Chapter 1 - The prairie
Chapter 2 - The scorpion
Chapter 3 - The house (Twilight)
Chapter 4 - The house (Applejack)
Chapter 5 - Reunion
Chapter 6 - Three conversations
Chapter 7 - The prairie (reprise)
Chapter 8 - The house (Applejack and Rainbow Dash)

Chapter 1 - The prairie

by elPossenreisser

Chapter 1 - The prairie

The sunlight was relentless, a bright white. It blinded her eyes. The sun-bleached, almost white sand that covered most of the ground seemed to amplify the light even more.

The light also seemed to drain all color from everything that was not pale white sand. The patches of Fell Grass appeared grey, any hint of green having long bled out. The occasional trees they passed had grey trunks and pale leaves, and the shade they cast was really just a slightly lesser degree of brightness.

Twilight’s companion appeared pale as well, her mane and tail almost bleached to white, her coat almost the color of the prairie. Twilight envied her her hat, but she didn’t complain. In fact, since they had left Appleloosa early that morning, Twilight had not talked much. She was too busy brooding over the hot, sun-bleached reality that was this trip. So she focused on the path ahead of her and tried to ignore the shapely flank in front of her.

Both she and Applejack carried two big saddlebags and big waterskins. This prairie, while big and hot and undeniably bright, was not quite a desert yet, but it was mostly uninhabited, so it was always better to be prepared. They had not encountered a water hole yet, and had only passed endless patches of Fell Grass, which brought feverish dreams to ponies which would eventually destroy their minds.

When she allowed her mind to wander, she inevitably came to wondering about why she had agreed to accompany Applejack on this journey, and so instead she focused on the path ahead and the shapely flank of her companion, which was mind-numbing, but perhaps safer.

***

At nightfall, they set up camp, collecting bushels of Fell Grass for a campfire and sharing a meal of bread and dried fruits and some of the water from their waterskins. Then they lay down on their bedrolls. Twilight stared into the flickering pale flame of the dying campfire, wondering again why she was even here.

She didn’t dare sigh or even turn around, lest she alerted Applejack. The farmer had not given any reaction to Twilight’s perpetual silence, remaining as taciturn as Twilight herself. She could be stubborn, but Twilight knew that she was worried about her. Eventually her concern for her would overcome her trademark stubbornness, and she would inquire.

It was one of the many things Twilight loved about Applejack.

The fire died down, and only embers remained, their orange glow as pale as everything in this color-drained land. Cicadas chirred around them, the only other sound besides the soft crackle of the fire and the deep breathing of the pony next to her. Holding back a sigh, she turned on her back and stared into the night sky instead. She imagined Applejack opening an eye and looking her way, preparing to ask her what was wrong, but the farmer’s steady breathes continued unfazed.

Why she had come along? Because Applejack had asked, of course.

***

It was only the next day around noon – the day before they came across the scorpion and the house – when Applejack decided to speak up. In hindsight, the eagle probably caused it.

The prairie was still the same sea of gleaming white sand and heat-defying grey Fell Grass. The horizon was completely flat, and besides the occasional tree, the landscape bore no discernible features.

They first saw the eagle about two hours after they had departed—a lone dot in the distant blue sky, drawing slow circles. At first it seemed they were not getting closer to it, as it remained just a tiny black dot in the pale blue of the prairie sky. Twilight gladly spent some time wondering which species of bird it might be, debating the preferred habitats of eagles, hawks, and other birds of prey in her head. It was fruitless, but a welcome distraction.

It took another couple of hours until the dot became bigger. Twilight had expected it to be no further away than maybe an hour, but distances in the featureless prairie were deceptive. Applejack could have told her, she assumed, had she uttered her estimation.

Eventually she could make out the wings. Twilight strained her eyes trying to discern more details, but it was still too far away. Applejack, she assumed, would know. Applejack wasn’t a scholar, but she possessed an impressive knowledge about flora and fauna of Equestria. She opened her mouth to ask the farmer before she remembered and closed it again.

Probably Applejack had heard her mouth snapping shut, and that might have prompted her to speak up some time later, when they had long passed the lone bird, and Twilight had been able to see the distinctive shape of the wings and the tales to be certain that it had been an eagle,

***

“I’m askin’ you ‘cuz I think you’d be the best company on such a trip,” Applejack explained, smiling amiably. “I know I can rely on you. That, and, well, with Rainbow bailin’ on me last-minute I’m in a bit of a pickle.”

Those words still won Twilight over. She knew it was a bad idea, but Applejack’s praise—and her smile—were impossible to resist.

“But Applejack, I know nothing about cattle driving!” she protested with a smile, fully aware that it was only token protest.

“You have a level head, and you’re a quick learner,” Applejack dismissed her concerns, still smiling. “And you don’t get all fussy about a lil’ hard work’s dirt. ‘Sides, there really ain’t much to it. Cows are pleasant enough mosta the time. We’re only there in case they panic.”

Twilight sighed. “I know you wouldn’t ask if you had an alternative. Fine. I’ll come with you.”

“Thanks, Twi!” Applejack beamed. ”Rainbow writes she’ll meet us at Blue Cheese’s ranch and help with the cattle drive once she’s done with her extra training sessions, but I’ll believe that when I see it with my own eyes. I still halfway think she made up all that fuzz about Spitfire keeping them in the training camp for some more days to dodge the bullet,” she added as a joke.

“Applejack!” Twilight scolded her, almost shocked. “Rainbow would never—“

“Jus’ kiddin’, Twi,” Applejack replied. She gave the alicorn a quick hug. “Thanks. I’ma pick you up tomorrow morning at seven, alright?”

“That’s just fine,” Twilight managed to reply. Applejack waved her goodbye and cantered off, leaving Twilight to close the door of the library behind her.

Why had she agreed on this?

***

“Twi,” Applejack said without turning around. “Talk to me.” No question, just a simple request. Almost an order. Twilight’s time was up.

“About what?” Twilight tried to avoid answering the unspoken question.

“You kiddin’ me, sugarcube? You been broodin’ and not sayin’ a single word ever since we set off. If’n you’re mad I talked you into going on this here trip then why’d you come in the first place?”

Twilight was shocked at the hurt that resonated in Applejack’s question. “No, no, it’s not that,” she hurried to explain. “If I wouldn’t have wanted to come, I would’ve told you. I’m not angry with you.”

“If’n ya say so.”

For a few minutes they continued their march in silence. Twilight was not fooled, however, into believing that she was off the hook.

“Then what are you all tore-up about?” Applejack finally asked, now sounding genuinely concerned.

Twilight swallowed and carefully worded her response, aware of the perilous waters she was navigating. “I was just lost in thought. It is nothing important.” She felt wrong lying to Applejack, the bearer of the Element of Honesty nonetheless, but if there was another option, she was unaware of it.

“Uh-huh,” Applejack made, still unconvinced.

For a few minutes, it seemed like she’d let it slip by, but then she spoke again. “Is something wrong with your folks?”

“It’s not my family,” Twilight replied. “Just me.” She fought back the urge to facehoof when she saw the way Applejack’s ears perked up at this.

“Then what else is bugging you, sugarcube?” Applejack asked. The affectionate sympathy in her voice made Twilight’s head spin.

“It’s… something personal,” she said.

“You know, sometimes it’s better to tell somepony,” Applejack said.

“This is definitely not one of these times,” Twilight replied. “It’s… complicated. And stupid.”

“Is it Spike? You missin’ the little guy?”

“It’s not Spike, no,” Twilight said. “I mean, of course I’m missing him, but that’s not it.”

“Trouble with one of the girls, then?”

“You could say that.” Some reckless part of Twilight was starting to enjoy the guessing game their conversation had turned into, even though she was aware of the danger in which she was putting herself. Or maybe, rather, because of the danger.

“Did y’all have an argument?”

“No, not an argument,” Twilight said. She was feeling lightheaded. It was unreal. She had spent the last few months trying to hide her feelings from Applejack, and now she was wilfully allowing her to worm it out of her. “The opposite, actually.” The recklessness, the sheer irrationality of her reply made her almost dizzy.

“The opposite of an argument? Now what’s that supposed to be?” Applejack sounded confused. She snorted. “You makin’ this hard on purpose, sugarcube?”

Twilight didn’t answer. She realized she was smiling, but she had no idea why. She was pretty sure that by now it was only a matter of minutes until Applejack was onto her—she wasn’t dumb after all. The prospect was terrifying, but circling the drain like this was also tremendously exciting.

“Wait,” Applejack gasped, “you’re not sayin’ you’re sweet on one of the girls, are you?”

Twilight didn’t answer; there was no need to. She could see with her mind’s eye how the conversation would turn out. It was almost beautiful, like watching a Sonic Rainboom erupt while under the effects of a time-slowing spell. All those months of hiding away her feelings for the farmer were about to come to an end, and while she was terrified by the prospect, a more defeatist part of her was almost relieved to finally get it over with. Even though it seemed oddly inadequate to have this moment in this featureless pale prairie.

“And now you’re hurting because you miss her? That it?” Applejack asked with a smile. She sounded quite pleased with herself that she had figured it out.

“I’m not missing her right now,” Twilight mumbled, her throat suddenly tightening. The reckless dizziness was gone. She didn’t want this. She really didn’t want it. But she had essentially outmaneuvered herself.

“You’re sweet on her, but you don’t miss her?” Applejack chuckled. “Sugarcube, if it were me, I’d be offended if you didn’t miss me, that’s for sure.” She waited for Twilight to reply something, but when she turned around, she only saw her friend trotting along behind her, head hanging, ears drooping. Applejack’s eyes shot open wide. “Twilight? Are you sayin’—“?

“I’m so sorry, AJ,” Twilight whispered.

They walked on through the sun-bleached prairie. It was going to be a long walk, Twilight thought. Then Applejack turned around and gave her a smile. “How ‘bout we take a lil lunch break under that tree over there, sugarcube?”

Twilight managed to smile back and nodded, her eyes still wet, her throat too dry to talk.

They sat down in the shade, and finally Twilight’s stubborn defiance gave. She tried to hold back the tears, but a little sob escaped her mouth. When Applejack turned to her, her eyes full of concern, there was no more resisting. Twilight hid her face in her hooves and cried uncontrollably.

Almost immediately, Applejack pulled her into a tight hug and began stroking her mane, rocking her gently back and forth. No words were spoken. Twilight was vaguely aware that she had no right to be comforted by Applejack, but her unexpected confession, not to mention the weeks of hiding that had preceded their trip, had left her sore and weakened. So she just let the sobs shake her and allowed Applejack to comfort her.

An indeterminate time later, her tears ceased. She kept her face buried in Applejack’s coat, unwilling to face the outside world.

“Feelin’ better, sugarcube?” Applejack murmured.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“No need to be apologizin’. I’m always there for you.” Applejack released her, and Twilight heard her rummaging through her bags. She still didn’t want to open her eyes. “Here, have a bite to eat,” Applejack said and pushed an apple into her hoof. Against her will, Twilight smiled. She opened her eyes and took a hearty bite from the fruit. It was sweet and juicy, and she realized only now how hungry she was.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, still chewing and spewing a rain of apple pieces and juice. Applejack chuckled, and it somehow was infectious. “For everything.”

“Any time, sugarcube.”

“Actually, I think I do feel better,” Twilight said after having swallowed the apple, only wondering afterwards if it was really true. While she still felt raw and smashed, she was also relieved that her fear of alienating Applejack over her stupid feelings had proven insubstantial. And with the strong farmer’s support, she felt confident that she could deal with whatever residue of weird emotions remained.

She wondered if things could return to being okay just like that.

***

Perhaps they could.

“So how is it that your cousin Blue Cheese lives that far out, Applejack?” Twilight asked curiously. Their second day in the prairie was drawing to an end, the sun setting in the west, ahead of them. When they looked back, their shadows seemed to stretch out for miles over the prairie, and the land behind them lay in a dark twilight under an almost black night sky. “I always thought Appleloosa is rather far off the beaten track, but they at least have a train station.”

“Y’know, sugarcube, as much as us Apples love our homes and our family, every once in a while a young colt or filly will come down with a mighty case of wanderlust. And when that happens, they will pack a cart and just bolt off until they find a patch of good land where they can build their own homestead.”

“But why there? Why not closer to Appleloosa?”

“Care to hear a lil ghost story, then?” Applejack asked en lieu of a reply.

“A ghost story?” Twilight echoed.

“The terrifying tale of great grand-uncle Jonah Gould’s cursed farm,” Applejack whispered in an eerie voice. “It’s one of the Apple family legends,” she added. “Granny Smith used to tell it to me and Big Mac when we were younger.” She cleared her throat and began speaking.

“Jonah Gould originated from the branch of the Apple family that wound up founding the frontier town of Appleloosa. He had an older sister, Golden Delicious, and even though he could have stayed on their parents’ farm in Appleloosa after they had passed on, he decided to found his own ranch out in the prairie. He had always had a way with the cattle and had great plans of producing cheese and other dairy products.

“The Appleloosans were skeptical about his plans, as even back then there were tensions with the native buffalo tribes because of land the pony settlers had taken for themselves. But Jonah Gould was not one to make the same mistakes the first settlers had made, and he picked a patch of land that the buffaloes didn’t claim.

“With the help of the family, he built a nice house on the prairie for his wife and his foal, and he hired a large herd of cattle to live on his new ranch. That’s when the incidents started.

“Only a few weeks after the family had settled in, the well collapsed, leaving them without water. Of course the nearby family helped digging a new well, and no real harm was done.

“Not much later, within one week four of the cows gave birth to dead calves. Jonah Gould considered it a streak of bad luck and thought nothing of it, seeing as most other calves were growing beautifully and the cows seemed all content on the ranch.

“Then, one day, a part of the herd suddenly started panicking and trampled down a fence, a dozen or so storming off into the wilderness. Jonah Gould and his wife only found them on the bottom of a canyon where they had all fallen to their death.

“But what finally made Jonah Gould yield was when one of the bulls one day went mad and charged at his foal. Jonah managed to push the foal out of harm’s way in the last second, but the prospect of his foal being attacked by his cattle was too much for him. That instant, they packed some things and left the ranch.

“And to this day, nopony has ever dared build a farm in those cursed lands, where every fruit and every critter are cursed.

"Or somesuch dramatic humbuggery." Applejack grinned. “At least that’s the kind of yarn my Granny Smith used to tell me ‘n Big Mac when we were still little.”

“Was that here?” Twilight asked, stopping in her tracks.

“Might as well be,” Applejack said. “This here land is at any rate not buffalo land. You worried about evil spirits, sugarcube?” Applejack chuckled as she turned around to her. “It’s just an old ponies’ tale. Farms sometimes don’t work out. It happens.”

“But sometimes evil spirits are real,” Twilight replied. “There was a study conducted by the Royal Academy about haunted houses in—“

Applejack put her hoof on Twilight’s mouth. “I wasn’t meanin’ to scare you, sugarcube. We’ll be fine.”

Twilight smiled against Applejack’s hoof. “I know.”

***

At nightfall they set up camp, just like they had the night before. Applejack stacked the Fell Grass to the same neatly symmetric pyre and set it ablaze. Staring into the pale, flickering flames, they shared another meal in silence, but it was very much unlike the tense speechlessness that had engulfed them the night before. Maybe, Twilight idly mused as she unrolled her bedroll, they were different ponies, different from who they had been the night before by virtue of shared feelings. If so, she thought, she preferred her new self.

Applejack put down her bedroll right next to Twilight, and when they lay down, hunkered down close to the alicorn. “It don’t feel right leaving you all by yourself tonight, Twi,” she offered by way of a rather vague explanation.

“Thanks, AJ,” Twilight murmured.

“Sure thing, sugarcube.” They lay next to each other for a few minutes, each of them lost in her own thoughts. Then Applejack asked, “How’re you holdin’ up?”

“I’m fine,” Twilight said. “My back is rather sore from the heavy bags, and my hooves are really grateful for the respite, but other than that…”

“I think that answers my actual question jus’ fine, though,” Applejack mumbled before continuing louder, “Where’s your back buggin’ you?” Twilight, who lay curled up on her side facing away from Applejack, felt a gentle hoof poke her in the back through both their blankets.

“A little high—mmhm!” Twilight hummed.

Applejack wormed her hooves under Twilight’s blanket and began applying more pressure, massaging the rock-hard muscles of her back in practiced circles. Twilight closed her eyes and leaned back her head, slightly brushing against Applejack. The strain of a day-long hike with substantial baggage slowly eased out of her muscles.

“What about you? Have you ever come down with a case of wanderlust?” Twilight asked, trying hard to keep the satisfied purr inside her.

“What’s that, sugarcube?”

“You said earlier that sometimes a young Apple comes down with wanderlust and wanders off in search of fertile land to found their own farm. Have you never experienced that?”

“Nah, not me. You know I tried the fancy city life when I was a filly, and I’ve learnt my lesson. My life is at the Acres.”

“Even though you are the younger sibling?”

“Yeah, even though Big Mac is older. He’s a great work pony and I love him dearly, but he’s not cut out for taking care of all the business stuff all by himself. He’s too kind to be dealing with them business ponies. They’d take advantage of him and the Acres would be gone lickety spit.” She paused for a moment, thinking, before she added, “Nah, I rather think young Apple Bloom will be out and about when she’s a little older.”

“But she loves Sweet Apple Acres, doesn’t she?”

“Of course she does. But she’s got a clever little head, doing well in school and all. Wouldn’t surprise me none if she ended up going to college one day. I’m a might proud of her.” She moved her hooves a little lower on Twilight’s back. “How’s that?”

“Mhmm,” Twilight just purred.

“What about you, Twi?” Applejack asked after they had been in thoughts for some time. Unlike the day before, the silence didn’t feel uncomfortable. “What are your plans for the future?”

Twilight pondered over the question for a while before she answered. “I used to have a very clear picture of my future,” she finally said. “Being Princess Celestia’s personal protégé I was pretty much guaranteed a position in one of the Royal Court’s research projects, or maybe as a professor in the School for Gifted Unicorns. And then, when I became a princess, I believed Princess Celestia expected me to take up a position in the Royal Court.” She trailed off. Those plans, faced with the cool, clear night out on the prairie, seemed very distant and almost unreal to her.

“But ya didn’t go to Canterlot,” Applejack observed. “And you don’t sound like you’re still plannin’ to.”

“Not anytime soon, no,” Twilight confirmed. “I’ve talked with Princess Celestia about it and explained her that I can’t live away from my friends.”

“How’d the princess take it?”

“She wasn’t even surprised, as if she’d expected exactly that from me,” Twilight snorted, suppressing a chortle. “And I couldn’t be happier. I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

“I hear you,” Applejack simply said. “Home’s where the heart is, an’ all that.”

“Yes. Well, I know that we’re not all going to stay together forever. Rarity is eventually going to make it as a designer in one of the big cities, and she’ll have fashion shows and boutiques all over Equestria. And Rainbow Dash has already—“ She interrupted herself, suddenly insecure if she wanted to continue down that path.

Applejack just said, “Yeah.” For a moment, she stopped her ministrations as she thought about what to say next. “I mean, she’s only in the Wonderbolts’ training squad yet, and already she has to spend six weeks there for training, and once they put her on the active roster, she’ll be gone for months to end.”

“And what about you?” The question was out before Twilight could even think about it. Applejack’s hooves were still just resting against her back.

“I trust her that she comes back,” Applejack said after a few seconds. “Don’t you?”

“I do.” Twilight didn’t even have to think about her answer. “Rainbow just said before she left how glad she’ll be to be able to hang out at the library again when she’s back from camp.” She groaned with pleasure as Applejack picked up the massage again. “I miss her.”

“Yeah, me too.” Applejack sighed. “It’s been six weeks now.” She trailed off. Twilight was grateful that the farmer didn’t go into more detail about just how much she missed Rainbow Dash.

“So what are ya gonna do in Ponyville then, if you’re not gonna leave?” Applejack finally picked up the conversation.

“I guess I can do most of my research work in Ponyville as well,” Twilight replied. “It will be harder because the scientific community is centered in the universities, and knowing the right ponies can open a lot of doors. But I think it’s worth it.”

“I reckon being a princess can open a few doors just fine as well.”

Twilight giggled. “I think so.”

“Well, I for one am happy that you’re gonna stay in good ol’ Ponyville,” Applejack said. She stretched her legs and gave a hearty yawn before resting one of her forelegs loosely over Twilight. “What do you say we call it a night?”

Twilight couldn’t contain a yawn herself. “Sounds good. Night, AJ!”

Applejack leaned over and nuzzled her head. “Night, sugarcube.”

***

When Twilight woke up a few hours later, she didn’t immediately know where she was. She was lying on a rather hard bedroll, above her the stars shone, and somepony held her in a loose embrace. Then she remembered where she was, and who she was with.

Memories of her dream were fading quickly – something with white lights and generally unpleasant. She was grateful for Applejack’s comforting embrace. But as her mind cleared off the last remainders of doziness, she couldn’t help but wonder what was had happened before they had gone to sleep, and what was, in fact, continuing to happen even as she carefully turned her head to the sky and looked at the familiar and soothing constellations of tiny dots of light above her.

Applejack was with Rainbow Dash; the two had been a couple for almost half a year by now, including the weeks Rainbow had spent in the Wonderbolts’ training camp. Twilight had known that from the beginning; when she first hypothesized that she might have romantic feelings for Applejack, she and Rainbow had already been an item. Which was why she had done everything in her power to quell those feelings. There was simply no way she could have acted on them, seeing as it would have meant going behind the back of one of her best friends.

Despite all this, it hadn’t been hard to maintain a friendly attitude towards Rainbow even though she was, in a certain way, her rival. Twilight enjoyed hanging out with the pegasus way too much to allow her pesky feelings to make things complicated. She had just inconspicuously looked away whenever the two lovebirds were about to share a kiss, which, thanks to Rainbow’s aversion to “being mushy in public” had only happened very rarely.

Most of the time, she had been fine, even though she had started spending more time with both Rainbow Dash and Applejack together. Applejack had often joined her when she watched Rainbow practice for training camp, and sometimes the farmer had invited her over to a family dinner at Sweet Apple Acres. Twilight had still genuinely enjoyed being with her friends. The tears that had inevitably followed at night when she had lain in bed alone – well, she had been sure she could deal with them.

And she had been sure that all this fuss was going to end eventually.

As she lay there in the middle of the prairie, she still believed her feelings for Applejack would eventually have left her alone. And yet she had, idiotically, gone and confessed everything to Applejack, burdening her with her stupid, messy feelings while she was busy enough missing her marefriend.

Twilight’s feelings had, in fact, taken a turn for the worse when Rainbow Dash had departed for her training camp stay six weeks ago. It didn’t help that Applejack, despite displaying a stubborn unwillingness of openly missing her marefriend, had been spending even more time with Twilight when Rainbow was gone. Twilight had secretly hoped to use their regular Wednesday afternoon reading date for a new research project, but Applejack had shown up, and of course she had not turned her down.

She suppressed a sigh.

None of this really mattered, though, in the face of her lying in Applejack’s embrace. Unwanted by her, her mind turned to their talk before they had gone to sleep, and to the sensation of Applejack’s hooves expertly massaging her sore back. She imagined certain spots on her back still tingly from the surprisingly gentle touches.

She suppressed another sigh.

Suddenly, a flash of bright white light illuminated the prairie night. Twilight started and sat up, slipping out of Applejack’s embrace, who just mumbled something in her sleep.

Another flash cast the prairie in white light, but it wasn’t as bright as the first one. There was no thunder to be heard, and when Twilight looked up at the sky, she could only see stars, and no thunder clouds. Whatever these flashes were, they did not appear to be a thunderstorm.

She strained her eyes to see more flashes, and indeed, in the distance, probably more than just a few kilometers away, a dot of white light was hovering just above the horizon. In the near absolute darkness surrounding them, Twilight couldn’t tell which direction she was looking in, but the light was undeniably there.

“Twi, what the hay?” Applejack mumbled next to her. Twilight, still sitting upright on her bedroll, looked down on her and only saw a slow-moving shadow.

“There’s a strange light out on the prairie,” Twilight explained. She pointed at it, but then she realized that Applejack would not be able to see her hoof, and instead carefully felt around for Applejack’s hoof. She took it and pointed it at the light. “Look, over there!” Applejack slowly raised her head and looked.

“’S jus’ some fireflies,” Applejack grumbled. “Go back ta sleep, sugarcube.”

“Hmm. It doesn’t look like fireflies,” Twilight mused.

“You’re not still goin’ on about that story? I told ya, it was just some old family yarn,” Applejack groaned. “I’m goin’ back to sleep.” With a clearly audible huff, she turned around and wrapped her blanket closer around herself.

Twilight stood up, shivering in the cold nightly air. She made a few steps into the direction of the strange lights, but didn’t dare leave the camp too far behind. The moon had already descended behind the horizon. In the cold white starlight the prairie looked grey and eerie.

The pale white light in the distance suddenly disappeared, only to give a few arrhythmic flashes a few seconds after. Almost instinctively, Twilight tried to decode it using Horse code, but the flashes would not amount to any reasonable message. Or if they did, they used some other code Twilight was unfamiliar with.

She was almost sure that the lights were quite far away, which filled her with a certain relief, although that meant that the light was probably very strong and big, which raised all kinds of other questions and concerns.

The light gave a final flash, and then the prairie, in whichever direction she was looking, was dark and quiet again. Twilight stood there for a few more minutes, staring into the darkness. It seemed like a bad idea to turn her back to the unexpected phenomenon, regardless of how far away it was. Something about this light filled her with a distant anxiety which she couldn’t quite explain to herself. She scolded herself for being ridiculous and forced out a low chuckle before she turned around and returned to her bedroll. Applejack was snoring lightly and was curled up to a small ball of pony, head covered by her blanket, turning her back to Twilight. Suppressing a sigh as she was assaulted by memories about lying in Applejack’s embrace earlier, she lay down herself.

Chapter 2 - The scorpion

Chapter 2 – The scorpion

Rainbow let out a loud burp and dropped on her back, staring into the canopy of the apple tree contently. “That was great lunch, AJ.”

“Glad you liked it,” Applejack said.

“You didn’t have to, you know,” Rainbow said.

“I wanted to,” Applejack said. “We only got tonight, and then…” She trailed off and sighed.

Rainbow Dash sat up and looked at Applejack intensely. The farmer tried to keep up a cheery façade, but Rainbow, knowing her marefriend, noticed the tell-tale signs: the flopped-back ears, the slight frown, the dull eyes. With two strong flaps of her wings she was over by her and hovered in front of her, resting her snout against Applejack’s.

“AJ, I’m—“

Applejack silenced her by planting a quick kiss on her nose. “Don’t say it, hon. I don’t want ya to feel sorry for me. It’s your big dream after all. And I’m happy for you, honest.”

“Thanks.” Rainbow rested her head against Applejack’s forehead and closed her eyes. “That really means a lot to me. I mean, a lot.”

Applejack wrapped her hooves around the pegasus and pulled her down on the ground, holding her close. She started caressing the bases of Rainbow’s wings and immediately elicited a moan of pleasure. Her eyes still closed, Rainbow began planting a series of kisses on Applejack’s face, slowly making her way down to her neck.

“I got no idea how I’m gonna make it six weeks without this,” Applejack whispered hoarsely, her breath now heavier.

“Guess we better seize the time we got left.”

Afterwards, they lay in a patch of afternoon sun between the apple trees, Rainbow’s head resting on Applejack’s chest. She idly stroked Applejack’s belly.

“I’m so gonna miss this,” Rainbow sighed. “And it’s only the spring training camp. Only six weeks.”

“Only six weeks,” Applejack repeated. “We gonna make it through this, hon.”

“I know.” She sighed again. “It’s just gonna suck not having you around.”

***

Applejack slowly broke free from her dream, even though she didn’t really want to. The memory of those last few hours before Dash had left were way too pleasant. She kept her eyes shut, stubbornly refusing to admit defeat. Rainbow Dash was warm and soft in her hooves and even snored softly, which Applejack found even more adorable since the pegasus would always deny that she did.

Right before she opened her eyes to a tangled mess of purple hair, she realized her fallacy. She was on her way to Blue Cheese’s ranch on the northern edge of the San Palomino Desert with Twilight Sparkle, the very alicorn she held in her hooves. While dreaming of her far away marefriend.

What in tarnation was she doing?

Careful not to wake the sleeping pony next to her, she withdrew her forelegs. Twilight stirred and mumbled something, burying her face in Applejack’s coat. It made her smile, but at the same time she felt a pang of guilt. Even though nothing had happened, she had a creeping suspicion that something about this was not right.

She sighed. As soon as she got up, she would have to deal with a lovesick alicorn and somehow comfort her while at the same time avoiding leading her on. And as soon as they arrived at Blue Cheese’s ranch, she would have to deal with her marefriend.

Applejack clenched her eyes shut, pretending to have a few more precious quiet moments before she was forced to deal with this mess, whatever all of this was.

She suppressed a sigh, telling herself off for her attempt at procrastination, and sat up. The morning was crisp and clear, the bright sun rising behind them and promising a good deal of heat later during the day. In the dry, cool morning air she seemed to have nearly infinite sight over the prairie. It was going to be a beautiful day. Twilight stirred again behind her as she opened her waterskin for a quick sip.

“Mornin’, Twi,” she said without turning around. “Sleep well?”

“Morning.” She sounded like she was smiling. “After those lights were gone, I sure did.”

“I didn’t dream that then, huh.”

Twilight giggled. “I doubt you were really awake then.”

“Guess so.” Applejack pulled some dried fruits and some carrot bread out of her saddlebags, turned around and placed the food on the bedroll between them before sitting down next to Twilight. “So what was that all about anyway?”

“Thanks,” Twilight said as she broke a chunk off the bread and took it using her magic. “Something woke me up in the middle of the night, and then I saw some strange white lights flashing out in the distance. I watched them for some time, and then the whole phenomenon disappeared. That was all.” She took a bite from the bread.

“You remember where it was?”

“Not exactly,” Twilight replied, blushing a little, embarrassed by her lack of orientation. “It was almost pitch black after all, except for the lights, and they were really far away.” She looked around, and Applejack noticed a certain wrinkle between Twilight’s eyebrows that the alicorn often displayed when she was really eager to solve a puzzle. It was really quite adorable. Especially since Twilight could be very stubborn and determined and would not stop before she had the answers she was looking for.

Twilight stood up, the chunk of bread floating next to her, forgotten. “I was laying here. You were there, our heads facing there. I had my back turned to you when I saw the lights, so it was somewhere over there.” She pointed westward.

“So we’re gonna come across it, whatever it was,” Applejack concluded calmly. “You got any idea what it might have been?”

“I don’t know.” Twilight sounded dejected, probably because she really disliked not knowing things. Applejack felt the urge to give her a comforting hug, but thought it better not to.

“Well, between the two of us, we can likely handle it,” she said instead.

Twilight gave her a smile and nodded, finishing off her bread.

“Ready to head out then?”

Twilight nodded again and stood up, grasping her bedroll in her magic and rolling it up. Applejack packed her bedroll as well, and after another big sip from their waterskins, the two ponies set out. The sun rose in their backs, already ripe with heat. As the last pink and orange shadows disappeared, the prairie started paling again.

When they set off, Twilight shot a last glance at the now familiar remains of the meticulously stacked Fell Grass fire. Something about leaving the site behind filled her with nervous anticipation, as if after yesterday’s commotion there was more to come today.

It was the day they encountered the house, but before the house there was the scorpion. Looking back, Twilight sometimes thought that the scorpion and the house belonged together, as if the former was an overture of sorts for all the unpleasant occurrences that took place later, in the house. Or maybe it was just an annoying wild critter.

Applejack also glanced back at their former camp, her gaze aimed at the little hollow in the sand where they had slept. She told herself that she was making mountains out of molehills; they had shared beds before, and amongst close friends there was nothing to it. If nothing else, she was quite certain that Rainbow Dash would have laughed at her for brooding over such inanity. Still, for Applejack, something was amiss, and she suspected that that was perhaps the answer.

Not a pony who would try to hide from the inevitable, she addressed the issue before they had walked more than a few paces. “Listen, Twi, about last night,” she started with a hoarse voice, fighting back the tremendous urge to sheepishly scratch the back of her head. “I’m a might sorry if I gave you any wrong ideas there.” And quasi as an afterthought she added, “We should probably not, you know, get that cozy again.” And with that, it was out in the open. It didn’t feel like an accomplishment at all though to Applejack. Not at all.

She didn’t need to turn around to know what Twilight was looking like – cheeks flushed, ears flattened back, eyes turned to the ground. She wouldn’t have seen the queasy feeling in Twilight’s stomach or the lump in her throat anyway, but she could imagine these things too.

“O-okay,” Twilight mumbled behind her, sounding dejected. “I’m sorry too. If I made you uncomfortable or anything.”

Applejack couldn’t contain herself. She turned around and gave Twilight what she hoped to be an encouraging smile. “Don’t worry none, hon. No harm done. We’re still friends.” Twilight’s spirits visibly rose at this, and only when she turned away again did Applejack realize that she had used her special pet name for Twilight. The one usually reserved for Rainbow.

“Right,” Twilight belatedly agreed with her. “Friends.” It might as well just been Applejack’s imagination, but Twilight didn’t seem to sound very convinced.

They walked on. The prairie was as pale as ever, and the sun soon burned down on them mercilessly. The wind had picked up and was constantly blowing sand into their faces, which was a permanent nuisance. They slowly veered away from the hills in the south. The Fell Grass, if anything, had become even greyer and paler.

For a while, they each stayed lost in their own thoughts and didn’t talk much. After all, there wasn’t much to talk. There was only the walk.

Sometime before noon, then, they came across the scorpion.

The whole event didn’t take longer than a few seconds. Suddenly Applejack gave a surprised whinny and rose on her hindlegs. When her forelegs came back down to the ground, something made an unpleasant cracking sound. Applejack grinned grimly, but sat down on her haunches almost immediately.

“Scorpion done stung me,” she said matter-of-factly, but her face was pale and her voice just a little bit shaky.

“Applejack!” Twilight shouted. “I’m pretty sure I can remember that detox spell, just hang in there, stay with me, don’t fall asleep, don’t die, Applejack, everything will be fine, even though we don’t have an antidote and are stuck in the middle of nowhere—“ She was rambling and only stopped when Applejack raised a hoof and gave her a week smile

“Twi, calm down. It’s gonna be fine.”

“Calm,” Twilight said. “Yes. I can calm.” She took a deep breath and extended her right hoof in front or her. “But what do we do?”

“Gotta suck out the venom,” Applejack said and pointed at her left foreleg. She had a few beads of sweat on her forehead now and was, if anything, even paler. “They are painful, but no real danger,” she explained. “Gotta get the venom out though, or it swells like balloon.”

Twilight shook her head. “Oh no, that is not a good idea. All toxicologists agree that sucking out the venom after a scorpion sting or a snake bite has basically no effect, and only bears the danger of poisoning the pony who’s sucking it out. The only thing that really helps is an antidote. Which we don’t have.” She cast Applejack a worried glance. “I could probably teleport us back to Appleloosa. Perhaps. Definitely not in one go. It’s quite the distance.”

“Don’t worry,” Applejack said, trying her hardest to maintain a calm voice. “Told ya, these varmints are not gonna kill a healthy pony. They're just painful.” She shook her head and smiled. “My family’s always done sucked out the venom. But if you say it ain’t doing no good… you probably know better. Don’t you always, sugarcube.”

The praise elicited a weak smile from Twilight. “But you need to rest. And as soon as you’re getting worse, I’ll teleport us out of here, understood?”

“I ain’t gonna take a break only because of some tiny stinger,” Applejack snorted. She stood up, sparing her injured leg. “No worries, sugarcube.” She set out once more, but she seemed to have difficulties walking straight. Twilight didn’t even allow her to continue her stumbling for more than a few seconds.

“AJ, don’t be silly,” she said sternly. “You need a break.”

“Damn varmints,” Applejack growled en lieu of a response. “My cousin was stung once an’ he told me they make you all drowsy and shaky.” She stretched out her injured foreleg and stared at it. It shook rather obviously. “Guess you’re right then. No use goin’ on like this. Can you give me a hoof?”

Within an instant, Twilight was at her side. She gently took the injured leg and put it around her withers, steadying the earth pony with her wing which she wrapped around her shoulder. “I’ve got you,” she said. With a groan, Applejack put her weight on the alicorn and allowed her to lead her to the tree. With Twilight’s help it didn’t take long to get to the tree, where Twilight carefully let Applejack slid to the ground and then helped her to sit up against the tree trunk. When the farmer reached for her saddlebags to pull out some of their provisions, Twilight gently put a hoof on her foreleg and shook her head. “No, no. You just sit here and rest. I’ll take care of lunch.”

After they had eaten, they were both sitting against the tree, and Applejack became noticeably quiet. She was still pale, and she looked tired and almost feverish. She didn’t try to argue with Twilight about the extended rest, and that was probably the most obvious sign that she wasn’t feeling very well.

“Usually it shouldn’t take too long for the effects to wear off,” she explained. “At least that’s what my cuz said.” She stifled a yawn and leaned her head against Twilight’s shoulder. “Didn’t remember that they were this annoying though.”

“It’s a neurotoxin,” Twilight explained. “It affects the nerves and the way impulses are transmitted to them. That’s what makes you so shaky and drowsy.” She smiled when she saw Applejack’s dazed expression. “Just let me know if you need anything,” she said.

“Mhmm,” Applejack hummed. “Just a little rest…” She trailed off, and her breathing became slower and deeper as she fell into slumber. Twilight gave her a nuzzle on the head, determined to guard her sleep. She shot a suspicious glance at the sting, but except for the rather mild swelling, there was nothing there that looked alarming enough so that she would notice it with her limited knowledge about healing. She made a mental note to read up on this subject to make sure she could be more helpful for Applejack should such a situation occur again.

“Y’know,” Applejack suddenly slurred, her twang more pronounced than ever, “it’s buggin’ me that Dash ain’t bein’ around for so long. Ah ain’t sure if’n Ah can take it fo’ much longer.”

Twilight winced. She was pretty sure that Applejack was at least halfway dozed off at this point and quite drowsy due to the scorpion venom, but still, this was something she didn’t want to hear. She was glad that she was mostly doing alright around Applejack, but she suspected that she was for now just pushing the matter away, refusing to deal with it. Which was definitely not made easier by Applejack’s remark.

“Y’know,” Applejack went on, “this’s jus’ some short trainin’ camp, not even the real thang. Dunno how I’ma deal with tha’.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a solution,” Twilight heard herself say mechanically.

“Thanks… Twah…” Applejack trailed off, leaving Twilight to her thoughts. She tried her best to wave off the things Applejack had said as the result of her being dozy because of the venom, not even wanting to consider the possibility that that might mean… because it meant nothing. Nothing at all.

She had probably dozed off too. As Applejack started waking up, Twilight also jolted awake. At some point during their break she had wrapped her wing around Applejack, protecting the farmer like a cocoon. She gave her a concerned look and noticed to her relief that Applejack wasn’t as pale anymore. Just as she looked, the earth pony opened her eyes and smiled at her.

“Mornin’, sugarcube. Or whatever time o’ day it is now.”

Twilight looked up at the sun and was relieved to find that they had probably not spent more than an hour resting. She kept her wing around Applejack who didn’t seem to mind.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better. Thirsty, though.”

“Just one second.” Twilight levitated the waterskin in front of Applejack to allow her to drink.

The earth pony took a few large gulps and belched contently. “Thanks, sugarcube.”

“Do you really think you are good to walk again?” Twilight asked, still concerned about the sting. And, if she was completely honest with herself, she enjoyed holding Applejack close like this, and didn’t want to let go yet.

“Should be fine.” Applejack tentatively raised her swollen leg. “Doesn’t hardly shake anymore, see? I’m good to go.” She nuzzled Twilight and smiled at her. “Thanks.” She rose to her hooves and carefully put weight on the injured leg, smiling when it resulted in hardly any pain. “Let’s see that we can make some distance.”

Twilight also got up and grabbed her saddlebags again. “But you let me know the instant it’s getting worse again.”

“Sure will, sugarcube.”

***

So they walked on, maybe a little more slowly than before. The wind continued to be a nuisance, and Twilight couldn’t shake off the feeling that the prairie had become even more uninviting after the attack on Applejack. She stole glances at the earth pony now and then, trying not to think about what she had told her in her half-asleep state during their lunch break.

They saw the house long before they came close to it; in fact, it didn’t even take them another hour after their lunch break before they saw the small box shape in the distance, clearly visible against the pale sand and casting a sharply defined black shadow. It was the only thing that stood out against the prairie up until the line of the horizon which didn’t make it look less deserted.

At first, they didn’t take much notice of the house. But soon they got closer and could make out more details, like the few brown-leafed trees surrounding the house and the bleached wooden walls. They were still at least a few kilometers away, Twilight assumed – and she didn’t trust her judgment of distances in the hot, glimmering air.

“I guess that would be your great-granduncle Jonah Gould’s farm then,” Twilight half-heartedly joked.

“I’ll be damned if I know,” Applejack just replied.

The house drew closer. It was a two-story house with several dormers on one side of the roof. It stood on the prairie all by itself, with only a few dead trees on its back side. To the south there was a porch that spanned the whole side of the building, and something that looked like the front door. No yard or fence separated the house from the open land.

“Can’t blame ’em for abandonin’ a place like this,” Applejack commented. “Righteous middle of nowhere is what it is, here.”

“I don’t like it,” Twilight said abruptly. “I know how unreasonable it is, but I don’t like it.”

“That mean you wanna steer clear of it?”

“No. I may not like it, but I want to have a look at it,” Twilight said.

“Well too bad then that we didn’t come across this thing a tad later,” Applejack mused, “or else we coulda spent the night inside, out of that gosh-darn wind.”

“I’m not overly sad about that,” Twilight deadpanned.

Applejack chuckled. “Truth be told, I ain’t either. Ya reckon this is where your lights came from?” she asked.

Twilight shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think that would be possible though, to be honest. We didn’t even see this house until after a few hours of trotting, so I don’t think I would have seen anything from it last night.” Applejack just grunted her agreement.

From up close the house didn’t look any more inviting. Without exception its windows were smashed. The boards of the walls were skewed by the weather, and it seemed like darkness was seeping from the dozens of cracks. The roof of the veranda was in no better shape.

“What’s that smell?” Twilight asked aloud when they were only a few dozen paces away from the house.

Applejack sniffed in the air. “What smell? I don’t smell nothin’.”

“Eugh!” Twilight pressed her hoof against her muzzle in an attempt to block out the faint stench. It was hard to say what it smelled like; it seemed more like a potpourri of all kinds of unpleasant smells, from old feces over rotting animals to – broccoli? She shook her head and tentatively removed her hoof from her snout. The stench was disgusting, but bearable. “You really don’t smell it?”

“Nope,” Applejack replied suspiciously. “An’ I don’t think I like this one bit.” Absentmindedly she scratched her foreleg, where the scorpion had stung her, and suddenly cried out in pain. “What in tarnation—?“ Slowly, she brought her hoof up in front of her face, only to cry out again, this time in utter shock when she saw the blood dripping from the tiny sting and down on the dry, bleached sand, where the droplets were soaked up almost immediately, as if some bloodthirsty… thing… was lurking underneath the soil.

“Are you alright?” Twilight asked with a dreamy voice, but she wasn’t really paying attention. She had quickly gotten used to the smell and hardly found it annoying anymore. Not nearly as annoying as the oppressive heat, anyway. Her eyes were transfixed by the dark opening of the front door and the shadowy murk inside. She felt some beads of sweat slowly running down her temples and her forehead, but couldn’t bring herself to wiping them away. She casually levitated her bags off of her back and made a few tentative steps towards the veranda. The heat seemed to increase.

“Twi!” Applejack yelled. She felt panic rising up in her chest, more because of the dreamy expression on Twilight’s face than because of the bleeding. She could handle a little pain, but she had no intention of letting Twilight put herself in harm’s way. “Twi!”

The alicorn was slowly climbing the stairs to the veranda. It seemed to Applejack that, when Twilight’s hooves touched the first plank of the porch, the air started humming in an almost audible tone. She started towards Twilight and almost fell over as a jolt of immense pain shot through her bleeding leg. She gritted her teeth and forced her legs to carry her forward by sheer willpower, spilling more blood on the thirsty sand. She swayed and almost fell down when she lifted her first hoof to climb the veranda stairs, and with her blurred eyes she could only see Twilight’s rear side vanish in the dark shadows of the house.

The humming got louder. It was beginning to cause her a headache.

Sparing her injured leg, Applejack dropped her bags as well and hobbled onto the veranda. She noticed that she had clenched her jaws shut and forced them open in order to call out to Twilight again, at the top of her lungs. Forcing herself to ignore the pain and growing weakness in her leg, she limped on into the murky house.

Inside, it was dark, but not noticeably cooler than outside. Thick clouds of dust were dancing in the stale air, illuminated by the sun in her back. Ahead of her was a surprisingly long corridor with a few closed doors on each side. She could not see the end of the corridor in the duskiness. There was no trace of Twilight.

“Twilight!” she screamed again, the panic finally overwhelming her. Ignoring the stabbing pain in her leg, she galloped into the corridor, the bright rectangle of the front door quickly staying back behind her.

Chapter 3 - The house (Twilight)

Chapter 3 – The house (Twilight)

It was actually cooler inside the house, although the putrid smell was stronger here. At least it was partially offset by the equally strong, but less nauseating smell of dust and old, sun-baked wooden planks. Then again, it was highly unlikely that no small critters had snuck into the house and died here over the years.

The front door led her into a small vestibule. Along the wall opposite the front door there were stairs leading up. To the left the wall opened to a large room which, as she could tell from the derelict stove that stood against the opposite wall, had been the kitchen. Another door on the right was closed, as was one under the stairs.

Twilight first turned left towards the former kitchen, away from the door to the right. It was a simple wooden door, made from the same bleached, skewed planks as the walls of the house, but something about it felt very wrong, and she was very grateful that the massive iron lock bar was firmly in place. She assumed that the unpleasant smell’s source was somewhere behind the door. Better to keep the door closed.

The kitchen’s floor was covered in ancient linoleum, its design not discernible in the twilight that lingered in the room despite the broken and wide open windows. It was, in fact, as if the sunlight only fell into the room in concentrated window-shaped beams and had no interest in diffusing from there, so that the room was unexpectedly dark.

Besides the derelict stove, a massive iron monstrosity whose lid had been torn off, there were a few other pieces of furniture, namely a ceiling-high cupboard, a corner seat without cushions, and two halves of a massive table that had been split in half.

Twilight slowly trotted towards the stove, curious what was inside the firebox behind the destroyed lid. For a second, she wondered why Applejack wasn’t following her; it was very unlike the farmer to be scared of something as insubstantial as an old deserted house. She missed her, especially after she had shared her fears and doubts about her relationship with Rainbow Dash.

As she approached the stove, she noticed a toppled pot lying in the corner next to it, its bottom turned towards her. Not unlike with the other room, the one with the barred door, she preferred the possible contents of the pot to remain unrevealed. She lowered her head to get a better look at the stove’s lid and, to her surprise, didn’t find any ashes or half-burned pieces of wood. There were only the congealed remains of some brown liquid that had, at some point, oozed out of the firebox and onto the floor. It looked a bit like sticky, brown icicles. Twilight stared at it, unable to figure out what the undoubtedly disgusting substance was, careful not to touch it.

She backed up into the middle of the room, then turned around, curiously staring at the table. It had been cleanly split in half, along the fiber of the wood. That was when she heard the rustling behind the other door. She turned around and looked at the door. It was of the same making as the barred door which she didn’t want to open. Something about it made her feel uneasy, but in this case not enough to quell her curiosity.

Twilight let the split table be and slowly walked over to the door. Whatever it was, it rustled again behind the door, furtively, as if it knew of her presence and didn’t want to be heard. She reached out for the lock bar to open the door, but hesitated. Maybe she didn’t want to let the thing behind the door know that she had heard it.

From somewhere far away she heard Applejack say her name. It sounded almost muted, as if she were just lazily saying her name without expecting her to actually hear her. That did it. With a sudden jerk of her hoof she pulled the door open, not even considering using her magic.

A plume of pungent smell flowed over her, but unlike the unnatural stench that, presumably, had its origin in the other room this was the perfectly natural and reasonable smell of rotten food supplies. It permeated from the cupboards that lined the walls of the tiny room which contained a plethora of pots, jars, kegs, and boxes that were all smashed or broken. Obviously, this had been a storeroom. Liquids had congealed on the cupboard, and rotten bits and moldy pieces had fallen to the ground.

The rustling came from the huge disfigured rat that was lying in the shattered remains of a box. It had bright orange fur and was covered in small red pustules. It was bloated to the size of a cat, but its legs were rudimentary and short, and it was doubtful whether it was at all able to leave its nest. When Twilight noticed it, it had its ugly head turned into her direction, staring at her from green eyes. It bared its teeth and screeched malevolently at Twilight.

With a startled shriek, she tumbled back out of the room, her eyes closed. The rat hissed in disappointment, tossing and turning in its nest, but unable to do anything else.

Twilight stumbled backwards into the kitchen and lost her balance on the sticky, grimy floor. With a thud, she fell on her haunches and found herself sitting in the congealed brown liquid that had oozed out of the stove. She wondered why this surprised her; the icky brown goo had been covering most of the kitchen floor the whole time after all. Nonetheless, she stood up as fast as she could, not wanting to sit in the undefined slime any longer than she had to. In the storeroom, the rat-thing screeched in its mindless, impotent rage.

The centaurs on the wallpapers who had been dancing idly through forests of willow leaves when she had come in–

Which centaurs? Which wallpapers? Had they been here all along?

–were now staring at her with bloodthirsty eyes, brandishing spears and spiked clubs. They were still just hideous drawings on equally hideous wallpapers, but Twilight could feel their hatred. Had they been any more real, any more three-dimensional, they would have been after her blood, of that she was sure.

Maybe, she thought, she should return to Applejack. Knowing the caring earth pony, it was likely enough that she was worried about her. She turned to the kitchen windows which, following her understanding of geometry, should have opened towards the veranda in front of which Applejack was probably waiting for her, but beyond the veranda all she could see was the endless range of the prairie. Even though she was careful not to step into the sunlit rectangles—she missed the bright light, but didn’t trust these particular light beams, not after the rat thing, no—she noticed the temperature rising while she was looking out of the windows. When she withdrew into the shadow of the kitchen, she was sweating again.

Turning around towards the kitchen door, she noticed that it was slowly closing on its own account. With a terrified yelp, which was immediately mirrored by the creature in the storeroom, she launched herself towards the door. Her coat brushed against the closing door as it tried to keep her inside, but she managed to squeeze through before the door fell shut with a mighty thud.

Slightly out of breath, her knees wobbly, she stood in the vestibule again. The dust had increased; she could hardly see the opposite walls of the tiny room. She could see enough though to notice that where the house’s front door had been, the planks of the walls had contracted almost like a living muscle, bending and breaking, folding themselves around the front door and thus blocking the exit. The splinters of the broken boards looked like pointy teeth surrounding the door and keeping her from even trying to pry her way outside. They cracked menacingly.

Twilight told herself that she was not going to panic; panicking would only make things worse; she needed a level head to get out of this house. She hastily looked around. The door opposite the front door was still there, and to her great horror she noticed that the iron lock bar of the other door had moved. It still kept the door locked, but it had moved. A thin trickle of brown viscose liquid was oozing out from between the door boards and the lock bar.

She stared at the unsuspicious door. It was way too close to the other door for her liking; she’d have to pass it in less than two paces distance.

“You want me to think that, right?” she mumbled. “But I don’t think so.” Carefully, her eye never leaving the lock bar, she stepped to the less suspicious door. The lock bar stared back at her and didn’t move. Without looking, she pushed the door open and entered the room.

It had once been a bathroom. Floor and walls had been covered in hideous brown and red tiles, most of which were shattered or torn off. The sink just left of the door was still intact, the once white china encrusted with brown grime. In the opposite corner stood a bathtub on stylized hooves, and a pale pink curtain was drawn around it so she couldn’t see the state of the tub. On the other side of the sink were the remains of the toilet, blown into countless shards of china which only added to the splinters of shattered wall tiles on the floor.

If there was a window, it was probably behind the tub curtain.

She didn’t want to see what was behind the curtain. Not another rat-thing.

As if it wanted to mock her, a sudden burst of sunlight shone through the curtain, basking the room in pale red light. Suddenly, the grime in the sink looked very much like congealed blood, and Twilight had to turn away, gulping heavily.

Huffing, she pulled back the curtain with one swift motion. With a disgustingly wet ripping sound, the curtain was torn in half and fell down, covering the bathtub and unveiling the wall behind. To Twilight’s great disappointment, there was no window, but only a glass panel behind which scores of swollen and disfigured fireflies were crawling about, casting the room in bright light.

Her gaze fell on the curtain which now lay in the bathtub. It was covering something, but she refused to make any sense out of the small, somewhat spiky shape which looked way too much like a–

Don’t think it don’t you even dare to think–
–dead foal–

The shape moved.

Twilight screamed and backed out of the room as fast as she could, almost bumping into the splintered wooden teeth surrounding the front door. They were gnawing on thin air, grinding, constantly moving. She didn’t even pause before she ran up the stairs, just away from the teeth and the rat and the thing in the bathtub.

She heard the loud scratch when the lock bar finally slid open, but she refused to acknowledge it, almost halfway up the stairs now.

The bat launched itself into her face the second she set hoof on the second floor landing. She instinctively closed her eyes and violently shook her head as the bat tried to scratch her face. It gave off the same pungent smell as the house, only now it was directly in Twilight’s nose, additionally amplified by the frantic flaps of the bat’s wings.

Finally breaking into panic, Twilight fell onto her haunches and began tearing at the fluttering, squirming bat with her hooves. The creature viciously lunged at her face with its claws, trying to get a hold in her flesh with its claws, but Twilight barely managed to block it off with her hooves.

“Let go off me!” she yelled. With a final tug, she was finally able to yank the critter off and hurled it across the room. There was no gratifying impact when the thing hit the wall, but it was a flier after all.

She stared into the murky room and caught a glimpse of the bat just as it fluttered to the partly opened door just opposite the upper end of the stairs. It was about the size of a large rat, but instead of fur it was covered in bluish-grey dusty feathers. It stared at her from glowing pink eyes and hissed before it vanished in the darkness behind the door. Twilight was about to launch herself after it to finish it off, to undo the disgusting abomination, to tear it to pieces, when she suddenly realized that the door it had flown into led to the room right above the room behind the other door. That realization immediately quelled the unnatural rage that had overcome her at the attack of the bat.

Absentmindedly wiping some sweat and dust off her face with a hoof, she looked around. There were three more doors, one to the left, above the bathroom; one behind her, above the kitchen; and one in front, the one into which the bat had disappeared. Her mind’s eye showed her the bat lurking in the shadows, waiting for her, mocking her, daring her to come in—

She deliberately bit on her tongue, and the sharp, stinging pain brought her to her senses. Something about that bat, about its unnatural being, just filled her with a primordial rage, but she was again able to shove it aside.

Twilight considered her options and quickly decided on the door behind her. She made her way through the small room which was completely empty and only paused shortly before she opened the door.

The stallion was dead and had probably been dead for quite some time. The dry prairie heat had mummified him, but something had bitten big chunks out of his body. He hung from one of the ceiling beams, his face turned towards the door as if he was expecting somepony. He smelled vaguely like old, dried spices, not entirely unpleasant and hence all the more revolting.

Besides the dead body, the room only contained some pieces of furniture in varying states of decay and destruction. The brown goo was seeping out of a bed whose mattress had been slashed open.

The windows in the wall to the left led to the same empty prairie that wasn’t quite the same prairie Twilight and Applejack had crossed, and the incoming light painted the same bright rectangles on the floor. Motes of dust danced around in the sunbeams.

In that moment the screeching started outside the room.

Twilight jolted around, only to see the bat and the rat-thing rolling around on the floor, locked in a deadly embrace. The bat had its dug its claws into the side of the rat-thing, and the orange creature was screaming in agony while brown blood was trickling from the wounds. It tried to bite the bat, but the bat was too quick, and the struggle only resulted in more rolling around.

Something snapped in Twilight’s head. She hated the bat, and all she wanted to do was kill it, bite it in two with her own teeth if necessary. She charged forward and gripped the bat with her mouth, pulling it off the rat-thing. The rat-thing remained where it was, screeching and screaming and tossing its body back and forth.

Twilight hesitated for a second with the disgusting feathery creature in her mouth, and the bat seized the moment and squirmed free of her teeth. It flapped its wings and darted through the door in the opposite wall. Blinded by rage, Twilight galloped after it and through the door, and barely skidded to a stop before she fell over the edge where the room’s floor was missing.

As she looked down, the sense of vertigo was overwhelming. She was looking down on a vast plain from a height that was very reasonable for being in second floor. But the plane seemed to extend limitlessly in all directions, even underneath her, where, as she well knew, the vestibule was.

The ground was of a dark gray color and very flat and covered by a web of small cracks. Apart from the cracks, it was entirely featureless. A chain of jagged mountains raised far to her left, the peaks the same color as the barren wasteland right underneath her door. She extended a hoof to steady herself at the door frame as another surge of vertigo hit her.

Above her was a black sky, dotted by unnervingly unblinking stars. No familiar constellation was to be seen, and that made Twilight feel even more lost than anything else. The bat had disappeared, and her unnatural rage had quieted down.

Nonetheless she felt a strong urge to explore these plains. If she went downstairs and used the other door, she could safely get out there without the risk of hurting herself. The rational part of her brain cringed at this insane logic, but at the same time it made perfect sense. She wondered idly if she was beginning to lose her mind.

She wondered what she would find in those mountains.

She slowly backed up out of the door and turned towards the stairs. The orange rat-thing was still lying there, watching her from shifty green eyes. It had stopped screeching and looked rather satisfied despite the fact that it was still bleeding from the scratches the bat had inflicted.

Twilight felt an unexpected pang of pity for the hurting creature. She grimaced in disgust. Why should she feel sympathy for a revolting creature like this?

She pushed the though away, telling herself that she had no time for this. There was a mountain range to explore. She descended the stairs, already knowing that now the lock bar would be unlocked, and perhaps the door would already be opened.

Chapter 4 - The house (Applejack)

Chapter 4 – The house (Applejack)

Applejack stormed along the corridor, well aware that there was no way in tarnation that corridor could have fit into the limited confines of the house, but she was way too preoccupied with other things to worry about that right now. Her leg was throbbing and probably also still bleeding, but to her great relief it wasn’t obstructing her too much now.

Although Twilight had only entered the house a few moments before Applejack, the alicorn was nowhere to be seen in the deserted, murky corridor that lay ahead of her. As far as Applejack could tell, the corridor ended in a T-junction at least twenty meters ahead, and she thought she heard a scraping from there, just as if hooves where hastily dragged over wooden planks.

“I’m comin’, Twi,” she grumbled and continued charging.

Suddenly doors behind her began bursting open and slammed against the walls with deafening bangs. She didn’t dare look back, but estimated that it had started with the first door right by the exit. The slams were getting closer, and Applejack had a short but very clear vision of a door bursting open just in her path, smashing her in the head and probably breaking her skull.

Intensifying her efforts, she managed to increase her speed, galloping recklessly along the absurdly long corridor. The constant strain on her hurt leg was starting to take its toll, the pain getting stronger, and she started sparing it. She expected problems when she reached the T-junction, such as navigating around the corner, but she postponed these worries for now.

Slam!

There were four more doors between her and the T-Junction. She hadn’t counted the pairs of doors she had passed, so when the next ones flew open—

Slam!

—she had no idea how close it actually was. Way too close for her taste, though.

Slam!

Her head lowered, she spat out the foam that was starting to gather in her mouth, and tried to squeeze some more speed out of her strained muscles.

Slam!

So close now, but luckily there were only two more doors to go. She idly wondered what actually lay behind those doors, and if it was perhaps more problematic than a door smashing into her face. She didn’t really want to know.

Slam!

She was now close enough to the T-junction that she thought she could hear the scarping coming from the right. She slowed down in order to not crash headlong into the T-Junction. Only one more door to go.

Slam!

Applejack had no doubt that that had been the door she had just passed, which meant the one right in front of her would be next. There was no time to break for the corner now! Mobilizing her last reserves, she pushed herself past the door the instant if flew open.

Slam!

It hit her tail, which was way too close for her taste. She stemmed her hooves in the floor and skidded towards the junction, the wall seemingly charging into her face. In the last second, she threw herself around and stumbled into the corridor to the right, crashing into the wall and tumbling into an unorganized heap of legs, her head ringing from the impact, her bad leg screaming out in pain.

For a few seconds, Applejack saw stars. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind. She tried to get up, but her knees were shaky and gave way underneath her. She tried to ignore the slickness of the floor that probably resulted from her bleeding leg.

Then Twilight screamed.

The scream made Applejack’s blood freeze. She had never heard anypony scream like this. It was a scream of pure mortal fear.

“Twi!” she yelled, finally pushing herself up, albeit still leaning against the wall. “I’m comin’!”

The scraping was somewhere further down the corridor. Falling into a slower gallop, she could finally take it in. It was darker than the one she had just run through, and there were no doors. The floor was still made from raw wooden boards, but they were much darker, like mahogany or some other fancy wood. The walls were covered in dark green wallpaper that had an almost silken shimmer to it – Rarity would have loved it, had it not been mucky and covered in dark stains and splashes. It looked almost like—

Pushing the thought away, she looked down all the same, scanning the floor for more of those stains. Or similar, fresher stains. But on the dark wood and in the murkiness of the corridor, she couldn’t tell.

Suddenly the narrow corridor ended in a large room; large enough in fact so that Applejack could barely see the other walls in the murky twilight. She halted and listened carefully. There was the scraping, to her left, now accompanied by what sounded by muffled groans, as if Twilight was gagged or somepony was covering her mouth.

Discarding any worries about obstacles she might not see in the lackluster light, Applejack again started running towards the source of the noises. The large room or rather hall she was crossing swallowed up the clops of her hooves so that she felt like she was running across an open plain.

Another agonizing scream sounded from somewhere ahead, sending a shiver down Applejack’s spine. The distraction was enough so that she didn’t notice the bluish grey bat that was launching itself between her front legs, causing her to stumble and fall down yet again. As her face hit the grimy floor, the bat crawled up to her snout and bit her.

Applejack screamed, more from surprise than because of the pain. To her great disgust, the bat didn’t let go of her and instead kept its teeth sunk into her muzzle. Leaning on her healthy foreleg, she swung at the critter with the bloody leg and hit it with the satisfying sound of a bundle of little twigs breaking. She winced at the pain the impact caused her as well as at the coppery smell of blood that suddenly filled her nostrils. The bat screeched, but was torn out of her flesh by the force of the hit and skidded a few hooves away.

Applejack snorted away the blood on her nose and tried picking herself up. With disgust she saw that the bat, despite its spine being a jagged mess and both its wings sticking out in odd angles, was dragging itself towards her, letting out enervating little shrieks. She raised her head so that the creature couldn’t bite her nose again, but the bat just crawled towards the blood that had trickled on the floor and began licking it, only pausing to hiss menacingly at Applejack.

The earth pony’s stomach revolted, but she forced herself up and with a disgusted yelp she rose on her hindlegs and crushed the bat to pulp. She closed her eyes, trying her bet not to be sick on the spot.

She made a few careful steps forward to not see the remains of her fight with the bat when she opened her eyes again. Her stomach seemed to have decided to remain in place, but she still felt queasy, and the soft tickle of droplets of blood dripping from her nose did not help. Shaking her head, she pushed herself into a gallop again.

Suddenly she saw a rectangle of light in front of her—a door to a better-lit room. Encouraged by this sight, she tried to increase her speed, ignoring the coldness that was slowly rising in her injured leg, and couldn’t suppress a pained groan.

Immediately the rectangle started shrinking.

“Noo!” she screamed. “Don’t’cha dare!”

Applejack tried to push herself even more, but the ongoing strain and her injuries were taking their toll. She noticed black shadows at the edge of her visual field and was getting light-headed.

The door was already halfway shut.

Bringing forth the memory of that blood-freezing scream earlier, she fought back the light-headedness, stubbornly refusing to yield. With one last desperate leap, she pushed herself between the door and the frame, keeping it from closing. The door squeezed her, but she pushed with her hindlegs until she finally plopped through, hitting the ground once more and giving a pained yelp when her bloody snout ground against the hoarse floor boards.

Another scream made her jump up almost immediately.

She looked around, and for the first time since she had started this crazy hunt, she saw Twilight as something was dragging her backwards through another door in the opposite wall. For a split second, their eyes met, and the pain and desperation she saw in Twilight’s eyes were almost unbearable.

“Hang in there, hon, I’m getting’ ya!” she shouted and galloped across the room, a stone vault illuminated by several torches.

She stormed through the door. The shadows at the edge of her vision remained, but she couldn’t acknowledge them.

Through the door she found herself in a great hall with two rows of columns in the center which gave off a diffuse grey light. She couldn’t make out the ceiling of the vast room.

In the middle of the room, a lone door stood freely. It was open, and it seemed like darkness was seeping out of it. Through the door she could see, disturbingly, a vast grey plain under a black night sky. Trying to match the room she saw behind the door with the plain she saw through the door caused her a strong sense of vertigo, but in a few dozen meters distance from the door she saw a familiar purple shape motionlessly lying on the grey, dusty ground.

“Twi!” she yelled, her throat by now sore from all the screaming. Without wasting another thought about plains hiding behind free-standing doors, she galloped through the door, just hoping idly that nopony would close the door behind her. She looked back over her shoulder and saw the door standing in the plain, just as it had in the hall. Marginally relieved, she continued her way towards Twilight.

It didn’t take her long to reach the motionless alicorn. The sight terrified her, even though she barely managed to keep the express thought from manifesting. She dropped on the floor next to Twilight and pulled her into a tight embrace, tears flowing down her cheeks.

“Twi, oh Twi, please be okay, please don’t die on me!” she mumbled, burying her snout in Twilight’s mane. Then, to her immense relief, she noticed the faint breaths of the alicorn softly wafting against her neck. “Oh Twi!” She repositioned Twilight in her legs so that the alicorn’s head lay on her chest and caressed her back.

She didn’t have any idea what to do. She was, by now, weakened too much to lift up the unconscious pony and carry her all the way back to the door, and she had no intention of letting go of her, leaving her lying all by herself in this cool and unwelcoming place. She cried more angry tears at her own helplessness and yet knew no other consolation than to hold Twilight as safely as possible.

Suddenly, Twilight began stirring in her embrace. Her cheek brushed against Applejack’s chest as Twilight slowly pulled back her head. “AJ,” she mumbled faintly. “You came.”

“I’d never leave you, sugarcube,” Applejack whispered.

“Thanks, AJ.” She slowly opened her eyes and managed a weak smile. “I love you.”

“I love you too, hon.”

When their lips met, it felt like the only right thing to do. It was warm and sweet and reassured her that she was not alone in this strange place, that she was not going to lose Twilight, that she would manage to get her out of here. After what felt like an eternity, Twilight broke the kiss and rested her head on Applejack’s chest again, sighing contently. There was nothing to say. Applejack continued stroking her mane and her back, and Twilight’s breaths became slower and deeper as she slowly drifted into a blissful sleep.

Applejack was a little but antsy about staying here, but it was clear that she and Twilight weren’t going anywhere before they both had a little rest. That still didn’t mean she trusted this place, and she had every intention of staying awake and making sure nothing happened to Twilight.

She looked around as good as she could with the sleeping alicorn’s head lying on her chest. Above them a black night sky was looming. The stars were not blinking, which was unnerving, and even though she didn’t possess the vast knowledge about constellations that Twilight had, she thought that the sky looked very different from the sky at home in Equestria.

The ground was covered in grey compressed dust. It was dry and hard, and there was a web of tiny cracks in the ground. She couldn’t see any bigger rocks; it was all just dust.

Out in the distance, not very far away, a range of mountains rose into the black sky. They were of the same lifeless grey as the dust. Their peaks and ridges were blunt and looked eroded and old. On top of one of the slopes, on what looked like a flattened mesa, she thought she could see a black shape, possibly a building. She had no doubt that any building in a place like this was most likely bad news. She shivered, hugging the sleeping pony in her legs a little tighter, enjoying the warmth they shared.

Hey eyes were drawn to the building again. It made her uneasy. In fact, she felt like the place, or rather somepony in that place, was watching her.

Suddenly, resting here some more seemed like a very good idea.

Not able to shake her head, she instead bit on her own tongue in order to clear her head and push away those deceivingly reassuring thoughts. The sharp pain and the coppery taste of her blood helped.

“Twi.” She spoke as quietly as possible, careful not to startle her. “Twi. Wake up.”

“Hmm?”

“We gotta get outta here. I’m gonna carry you, but we can’t stay.”

“Mhmm.”

Gently she pushed the sleeping alicorn’s head off of hers and got up. Her knees were shaking, and black stars were exploding before her eyes, but she stubbornly refused to give in to her exhaustion. She got on her knees and almost fell over, and then she gently slid her neck underneath Twilight, positioning her square over her shoulders. She noticed Twilight stirring as if she was trying to help her and smiled at her unyielding perseverance.

Applejack braced herself before she pushed herself up again. It would work. It would have to. Slowly, she started staggering back towards the door which, to her great relief, was still there. Twilight lifted her head which had so far been dangling from Applejack’s back.

“Thanks, AJ,” she whispered, barely audible.

“Don’t go thankin’ me yet, hon,” Applejack said. “Let me get you outta here first.”

After what felt like endless miles of walking, she finally reached the door. It was still open and didn’t keep her from passing. On the other side, the great hall with the columns had vanished while she had been busy fetching Twilight; instead, she found herself in a small vestibule. Open doors were leading to a derelict kitchen and a ruined bathroom, and to her right she saw the open front door, behind which the porch was basked in the last, almost horizontal evening sunbeams.

Her knees shaking and only functioning by sheer force of will, she staggered out of the house and into the blinding orange sunlight. She resisted the urge to just drop on the floor, not wanting to hurt Twilight. Instead, somehow, she managed to gently lay her down in the prairie sand where they had left their bags. It was only a few paces away from the black maw of the house’s front door, but she couldn’t walk anymore. It would have to be good enough.

She gave Twilight a long, concerned look. She wasn’t moving, her breaths were shallow and slow, which scared Applejack.

“Twi,” she whispered, gently shaking her.

“Mhmm,” Twilight responded. “I’m awake. I think.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Dunno,” Twilight mumbled. “Just tired from my hike to those mountains, I s’pose. Can we just rest?”

“Of course, sugacube.”

“Can you hold me? Like you did on the plains?”

“Of course,” she repeated, trying to ignore the lump she suddenly felt in her throat. She lay down next to Twilight and pulled her into her legs, just like on the plains. Twilight buried her face on her neck, careful not to poke her with her horn, and sighed. Applejack couldn’t contain a somewhat melancholic smile and kissed her on the cheek, relieved to have her back. As Twilight once again fell asleep, Applejack decided that she would have enough time to deal with the guilt that was bubbling up inside her once they had put some distance between themselves and the house.

Then again, she had known that there were things to address together with Rainbow once she returned from training camp for quite some time now. It was all just an even bigger mess now that she had cheated on Rainbow.

Chapter 5 - Reunion

Chapter 5 – Reunion

After she had seen Rainbow Dash off at the station early in the morning, Applejack had returned to Sweet Apple Acres, trying to come to terms with the knowledge that, unlike most days in the last few months, she would not be interrupted at some point by a cyan pegasus who held little regard for chores and schedules and would just make her take a break, regardless.

She had managed to distract herself with hard work during the day, but after she had retired after dinner and lay in her bed, only too conscious of the empty spot right next to her, she had cried for the first time, her tears only spurred on even more by her anger at herself for being so weak. It wasn’t like she was all by her lonesome, she had tried telling herself; she had her family and her friends, and it would only be six weeks until Rainbow returned, and what would the brash pegasus think of her anyway if she knew she was being so pathetic?

Only six weeks.

Applejack stubbornly refused to succumb to any pathetic whining. When she started feeling bad, she helped herself by imagining Rainbow Dash at the camp. She was probably breaking all kinds of records, and was probably driving her teammates to madness with her cockiness. And she would count the days and remind herself that a few weeks didn’t mean more than a few times going to the weekly farmer’s market, a few more times of dish-washing duty, a few more lonely nights. She could wait that long.

She also had her friends to rely on. Being proud and stubborn, she didn’t talk about her discomfort; she believed that the things between two special someponies were to remain between them and should not be discussed with outsiders. But spending time with her friends helped her forget the cold, empty spot in her bed that waited for her every night.

Since she and Rainbow had spent quite some time at the library hanging out with Twilight, that was where she was drawn first. Of all of her friends, Twilight had probably seen the most of their relationship, and even though Applejack was reluctant to admit it to herself, she somehow thought that Twilight would understand her troubles without her having to address them—a comfortable thought. She didn’t really pick up Rainbow’s passion for reading, but being around Twilight was usually fun. She would talk about her latest research projects and explain them until even an uneducated country mare like herself would understand them. Applejack was always impressed by Twilight’s determination and rigor.

And thus, the weeks slowly passed.

But things didn’t get better. Time heals all wounds, or so they said, but in her case it wasn’t true. She found herself spending more and more time waiting, as if her present was meaningless and her real life was about to begin only a few weeks in the future. At first, this only occurred late at night when she was in bed, trying to find some sleep next to that empty coldness. But then waiting became a bigger and bigger part of her life, and eventually she found herself waiting and hoping for time to pass faster when she was having a cup of tea with Twilight or when she was working with Big Mac or washing the dishes with Granny Smith.

She wasn’t used to this kind of brooding, and she hated it.

If training camp, if only six week could do this to her, then what would happen if Rainbow Dash went on tours with the Wonderbolts?

That question—and the possible consequences—scared her, but what was happening to her scared her even more. She resolved to talk to Rainbow about this as soon as she returned. They were a couple after all—and best friends—they could deal with such things.

***

The early morning air was crisp and fresh. In the hazy morning air, the prairie looked even paler than before. They dragged themselves along, bringing some distance between them and the cursed house. Once again, like on that first day, they trotted on in silence, Applejack in front, Twilight following a few paces behind.

The sun rose higher as the hours passed. Little else changed.

The one thing that was in fact difference from the tense silence that had loomed between them on the first day of their journey was that now Twilight desperately wanted to talk to Applejack. About the house, about their respective injuries, and most importantly about them. About what had happened in the house, in that strange place behind the other door.

But Applejack’s head was trained straight ahead, and she stoically refused to talk, or even huff, or even just look around. And thus Twilight trotted on behind her, staring at the white ground between her forehooves, left alone with her thoughts.

With every step they brought between themselves and the house, the events inside seemed to fade more and more. The decrepit rooms, the disgusting critter-things, all the other things she had seen—or believed to have seen them—lost relevance, became as pale as the prairie sand and as diaphanous as the thinnest blades of Fell Grass. Only the place behind the door seemed to maintain any significance at all.

She didn’t dare remember anything about the mountains and the cyclopean temple on the plateau. But what had occurred down on the plains after her panicked flight had exhausted her so much that she had collapsed onto the dead grey ground was more than vivid in her memory.

Applejack.

She had come and had rescued her.

She found it impossible to not wonder about the meaning of all this. Or rather, not all of this, but the kiss. She had never been kissed like that before. She wouldn’t have so much as hoped that Applejack would ever kiss her. Yet it had happened. And the thought, the doubt, the idiotic hope that was gnawing away at her mental resolve grew stronger and stronger until it would eventually push aside all other thoughts in her head.

She desperately wanted to know.

But she didn’t dare ask.

Whatever it was, whatever it meant, it wasn’t supposed to be, she wasn’t supposed to be kissing Applejack. Hoping that there could be any connection, any feelings between her and Applejack—how could she be so selfish, so disloyal towards Rainbow Dash? How could she put Applejack in a situation like this?

The answer was, she couldn’t.

And still. What if—?

At the same time, stoically focusing on the journey was all Applejack could do to not have her thoughts wander back towards those damned plains and the events that had transpired there. At least her leg had stopped bleeding, but she had to admit that the scorpion sting was probably the least of her worries.

There simply was no excuse. That she had been scared out of her mind when she found Twilight barely conscious out there still didn’t justify forgetting her marefriend. That she had been worrying about their relationship in face of Rainbow’s long absence was no excuse to kiss another mare.

She would have hung her head, but she didn’t dare; what if Twilight took it as an invitation to comfort her? What if something else happened? The only way to be sure would have been to talk to Twilight, but this time she couldn’t bring herself to bring it up. She was acting like a coward and she knew it, but she was too scared of making a mistake that would cost her her friends.

Although, if she was at least a little bit honest with herself, it was probably too late for this already.

She tried not to think about Rainbow Dash. The guilt was eating at her. Rainbow would be excited to see her again, not knowing how despicably she had acted, how despicable she was. She didn’t deserve her.

And yet, she was too afraid to talk to her. In fact, she wondered if she would be able to keep it all a secret, a regrettable, forgettable mistake, a single occurrence. Wouldn’t she forgive Rainbow Dash a similar mistake?

Perhaps.

Or perhaps she was just trying to find a good excuse for chickening out.

She suppressed a sigh. The sun kept blazing down on them, and the pale prairie looked just as barren and empty as she felt inside.

They shared a wordless meal around noon, each of them silently chewing on the last provisions from their saddlebags. They hardly dared look at each other.

Not long after they had continued their journey after the unpleasant and silent lunch they encountered the outer fence of Blue Cheese’s ranch. It was a simple wooden fence, stable enough to dissuade the herds of cattle inside to run away, and it seemed to go on until the horizon.

Twilight crossed the fence with a few flaps of her wings, not thinking much about it, still brooding over the plains. Only when she landed on the other side did she remember that Applejack didn’t have wings, but had an injured leg and might need help crossing the fence.

She turned around only to see Applejack trying to climb the fence, sparing her leg. Without giving it another thought, her brain numb from all the brooding, she flew over to her and picked her up. Only when the earth pony froze in her hooves, she realized that she had perhaps made a mistake. She hurried to put Applejack on the ground and withdrew from her.

“I’m sorry, AJ, I didn’t mean to—“

“It’s alright, Twilight,” Applejack hurried to calm her down. She turned away and continued walking, not looking back. But the hushed reply was what finally made Twilight break the wordlessness between them.

“This is ridiculous!” she exclaimed. “AJ, we’re supposed to be friends. We need to talk about this! We can’t just go on pretending nothing is wrong, when clearly something is wrong!” The earth pony stopped, but didn’t turn around. “Talk to me, AJ!” Twilight implored her.

“What’s there to talk?” Applejack asked. “We both know what happened. An’ we both know it shouldna happened.” She sounded bitter, almost angry, when she spoke those last words.

“Then it won’t happen again!” Twilight said. “From here on, we’re just friends! Nothing more!”

Finally Applejack turned around. She gave Twilight a long look. She knew that Twilight was right—they couldn’t be anything but friends. And maybe they could get out of this whole mess. Still, hearing Twilight so readily denouncing any feelings between them caused her a pang of regret. “You’re right,” she finally said. “We’re friends. Nothin’ else.” She spat on her hoof and held it out to Twilight, but Twilight instead closed the distance between them and hugged her.

And so they stood for what felt like an eternity, forelegs tightly wrapped around each other, cheek leaning on cheek, breathing in each other’s scent, feeling each other’s warmth. Applejack’s hooves began caressing Twilight’s mane and neck, and Twilight extended her wings and wrapped them around Applejack as well. Their eyes closed, hidden from the world under Twilight’s wings, they just stood and held each other.

Finally they let go of each other, both of them smiling. “I’m a might glad we got that sorted out, hon,” Applejack said. “Come on, now. It ain’t that far to the ranch, an’ I’m dyin’ for a bath.” Twilight grinned back at her and nodded emphatically, pushing back a distant sense of concern. There was nothing to be worried about. Friends could hug. In fact, wasn’t it great that things between them were fine enough for a friendly hug?

“How is your leg?” Twilight asked, suddenly remembering why they had stopped in the first place.

“Don’t worry none about it,” Applejack replied good-humored. “It’s still hurtin’ a bit, but nothing I can’t handle.”

In much higher spirits than they had been the whole day they trotted on. They were still not talking much, as the exhaustion of the long walk started taking its toll, but it felt much less tense. They cantered next to each other, smiling at each other every now and then.

The sun was already setting when they finally reached the ranch and basked them in pleasantly warm orange light.

As they entered the courtyard through a gate in the surrounding fence, a rainbow-colored flash launched itself at them and knocked them both down before pulling them both into a bone-crushing hug.

“AJ! Twi! It’s so awesome to see you guys again!” Rainbow cried. “What took you lazy-flanks this long? I’ve been waiting forever!” She released them and did a few celebratory somersaults in the air. “Damn, it’s so great to see you again!”

Applejack reached out for the still hovering pegasus and pulled her down to the ground for a quick kiss, and Rainbow wrapped her wing around Applejack’s withers. “I missed ya too, hon.”

“Great seeing you too,” Twilight replied, looking away, trying hard not to think about any kisses at all. They were just friends. They had agreed on it. It was just the way it was. “If you want to be alone…” she started. “I mean, I’m sure you have a lot to talk and…”

“Don’t be silly,” Rainbow admonished her good-naturedly. She pushed Applejack over to Twilight so that she could wrap her wings around both of them. “’sides, AJ, your cousin has set up dinner for us, and it looked awesome! Don’t know about you guys, but I’m totally starving, so let’s get going!”

Rainbow quickly brought them to the ranch house where Blue Cheese greeted them happily. He had been worried a bit, he said, that they had taken so long, but Applejack just laughed it off. She was way too exhausted and hungry to go through everything that had kept them from arriving sooner before dinner, and Twilight couldn’t agree more. So they took place around the kitchen table and feasted on the rich meal Blue Cheese had set up for them, his family having eaten earlier, as was customary for the early-rising ranch ponies. His wife quickly said hello before she retired to bed; the foals were already asleep. Blue Cheese kept them company while they were eating, but retired as well when they were done.

“Oh, and there’s also a tub in the yard if’n y’all want to have a bath after all that travellin’,” he said as he left them over the remains of the dinner.

With a cheer, Applejack and Twilight stormed off out to the yard. The water in the tub was still warm, and they both dove into the tub. It was easily big enough for both of them.

“Yeehaw!” Applejack exclaimed, diving her head under water with a mighty splash. “Just what I needed.”

“It’s wonderful,” Twilight sighed, leaning back and slowly unfolding her wings. Even though the tub was big, she brushed against Applejack as she did so. Startled, Twilight glanced over to her, but Applejack just had her head leaned against the rim of the tub with her eyes closed.

“Scoot over!” Rainbow shouted and dove into the tub, restraining herself just enough to not cause a massive splash. She leaned against Applejack who just groaned satisfied, and then tugged on Twilight’s wing, pulling her over. Twilight struggled to maintain her balance, but Rainbow just pulled on her wing until she fell against her. “It’s so great to be back with you two!” she said.

Twilight happily closed her eyes, leaning against Rainbow and wrapping her wing around her. Applejack put her foreleg around Rainbow, and for few moments they just sat together. Twilight could almost feel the strains of their journey being washed off by the warm water, and whatever memories of those dreadful mountains were lurking underneath her conscious thoughts were, for the time being, quelled by the physical closeness of her two best friends. She slightly readjusted her wing behind Rainbow’s back so that it covered Applejack’s leg as well and rejoiced when the earth pony slightly brushed against her wing in acknowledgment.

“So how was training camp?” she asked idly.

“So exhausting!” Rainbow groaned. “Spitfire is such a slavedriver! But it was soo worth it. We did the routine of their 987 tour, one of my absolute favorites! It has this rad triple three-way folding corkscrew at around eighteen wingpower, I’ve been dying to try that one for years! Of course we rocked it. I mean, they had me, what could ever go wrong!”

“So they gone failed at teachin’ you some modesty,” Applejack smugly remarked. “Not that I’m surprised.”

“Heh, as if I needed to be modest. They even made me squad leader of the second training squad, so I get to do the piercing in the Pierced Heart routine, and that’s what all eyes are on!”

“What’s the Pierced Heart?” Twilight asked.

“You have three fliers, right?” Rainbow explained. “Two of them do a bent loop-de-loop, but twisted so that it almost looks like a heart, see?” She gestured with her hooves, indicating the two loops and the rough heart-shape. “And the third flier then crosses their paths right in the middle, right here, when they both meet, and zoom! the draft of the piercing flier swirls up the smoke contrails of the other two.” Her wings beat in excitement and almost threw the three ponies out of the tub, but they managed to keep their balance.

Rainbow continued, “You see, it really all comes down to how close and how fast the piercer flies past the other two. If you’re a wuss, you maybe fly in late or stay too far away from the other two, and then the contrail is already dissolving. Or you fly in too slow and your draft is too slow, and either way the effect is messed up. A lot of amateurs do this trick badly, but not yours truly.”

“Celestia forbid,” Applejack chuckled.

“It’s a similar principle to the contrail whirlwind we discussed that one day,” Twilight mused, “only there you need to maintain enough distance so that the contrails don’t get swirled around. We could probably do the math for the Pierced Heart, too.”

“Yeah, I thought of you and all that math when we started working on it,” Rainbow said with a smile. “Didn’t have the time to do it though. At least not without your egghead brain, Twi.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Twilight said and playfully bumped her head against Rainbow. “Featherbrain.”

“Bookworm!” Rainbow laughingly shot back and splashed Twilight with her hoof. Twilight was too slow to duck away, but that didn’t keep her from retaliating with her free wing. She squarely hit both Rainbow and Applejack, and the fight was on.

After much splashing and suppressed laughing—so they didn’t wake up their sleeping hosts—the three decided on a ceasefire. They quickly dried themselves and emptied the tub before they retired to the barn where Blue Cheese had prepared beds on the hayloft.

They had to climb or fly up a ladder to get to the hayloft. A few blankets were spread over a stack of hay, creating a comfortable wide bed. Twilight tugged at one of the outermost blankets, trying to pry it free.

“What’cha doin’, Twi?” Rainbow asked.

“Well, giving you some room, of course,” Twilight replied sheepishly.

“Don’t be silly,” Rainbow admonished her for the second time that night. “You’re staying there, it’s not, like, the first time we’re sharing a bed.” Without further ado, she plopped down on the bed and pulled the blanket over herself. She yawned and stretched. Applejack and Twilight stood around her, looking at each other uneasily. “You guys coming or what? I really need some shut-eye!”

“I’m plum-tuckered out alright myself,” Applejack agreed and crawled under the blanket on Rainbow’s right. Twilight looked at them for another moment before she took the spot on the other side, snuggling up against Rainbow.

“Night, girls!” Rainbow said and almost immediately began snoring.

Twilight turned around, at the same time glad and disappointed that the sleeping arrangements were keeping her away from Applejack. She was not sure how she’d be able to sleep.

“Night,” Applejack murmured on the other side of the sleeping pegasus.

Although she couldn’t see her, Twilight was sure that Applejack had meant her specifically. She couldn’t quite suppress a smile. “Night,” she whispered back.

Chapter 6 - Three conversations

Chapter 6 – Three conversations

Twilight woke up some time later. It was still dark. The bed was empty except for her. She could hear Applejack and Rainbow Dash talk on the far end of the hayloft, with hushed voices so that she couldn’t understand what they were talking about. She didn’t mind too much; what the two of them had to discuss was really none of her business. She pulled her blanket over her head and turned around, trying to fall asleep again.

On the other side of the hayloft, Applejack was sitting in the hay, and Rainbow was resting her head in her lap. “It’s funny,” Rainbow said, “I always slept better with you around, but tonight I kinda can’t.”

Applejack chuckled. “I just worked myself tired when you were gone, worked well enough.”

“Same here.” She paused. “The whole being-apart business sucks.”

“You ain’t sayin’ you got regrets, are you, hon?”

“No.” Rainbow turned around so that she faced Applejack’s belly. “It’s just… I dunno. It’ so great to see you and Twilight again and to get back home to Ponyville again after that cattle drive. I mean, the camp was awesome, and I don’t have regrets or anything… I dunno.”

Applejack sighed. She had been happy to see Rainbow again and to have some time with her alone, and it was wonderful to have her that close again. But it had only taken them a few minutes, and their conversation had already turned to all the things that had kept her on edge all those past weeks. She hadn’t wanted to bring it up right away, especially not so soon after whatever had happened with Twilight. But she needed to talk to somepony, and she needed Rainbow’s strength to help her carry all that weight.

“I know what you’re sayin’,” she said slowly, carefully considering her next words. “It’s been like I was just there waitin’ for the real life to begin, for when you returned. ‘N everything else kinda didn’t matter, and so I just kept waitin’ for you.” She swallowed; suddenly she had tears in her eyes, tears that she thought she had cried long ago. “Waiting for that emptiness to end.”

“Yeah,” Rainbow agreed sadly. She sat up and looked at Applejack, her eyes just a faint shimmer in the darkness. “I really didn’t mean for you to be… y’know… like that.”

“I know, hon.” Applejack gave her a quick peck on the nose. “Isn’t it the same for you?”

“I dunno,” Rainbow said, resting her head in Applejack’s lap again. “Guess I never thought about it that much. But with all the training and stuff, I don’t have too much time to think anyway. So I guess most of the time it isn’t too bad.” She looked up at Applejack. “I’m sorry, AJ.”

“Don’t be,” Applejack said, her voice hoarse. “It’s your dream after all.” She cleared her throat. “We should really go back to bed,” she continued after a little pause. “We got a lot of work tomorrow.”

They made their way back to the bed. Before Applejack could lie down, Rainbow suddenly pulled her into a surprise hug. “I love you, AJ,” she whispered, “and no training camp is gonna change that.”

“I love you too, hon.”

Applejack crawled under the blanket first and found herself in the middle now, Twilight on her left, Rainbow settling down on her right. As if she had just been waiting for that moment, Twilight turned around in her sleep and snuggled up against her. Rainbow put a foreleg around the two of them from the other side.

***

Twilight had only been dozing when Applejack and Rainbow came back to bed, and after Applejack had started snoring softly right next to her—covering her nose with her mane, which was kind of wonderful and distracting—Twilight found it impossible to go back to sleep. For the longest it was all she could do to not toss and turn like she would do at home, lest she woke up Applejack. Or turned away from her. But finally the need to change her position had turned into an insatiable itch, and she turned around with a sigh that she was hardly aware of.

Facing away from the others, she stared across the hayloft and out of the window on the opposite wall. It was no use. She could still feel the warmth radiating from Applejack’s body behind her and hear her breaths. She violently quelled the urge to turn around again and snuggle up to the sleeping earth pony. She was well aware that she had no right to this kind of consolation.

She needed to stop thinking these things.

But these thoughts were the only thing that kept her from mind from wandering back to the plains, to climbing the mountains again, to stand in front of the cyclopean old building whose purpose was almost clear, almost understandable…

Twilight shook her head and slid out of bed, slowly flying over to the window. If she couldn’t sleep, she at least didn’t want to disturb her friends. She sat down on the same haybale as Applejack had earlier when she had been talking to Rainbow, and stared outside. The prairie looked quiet and peaceful in the pale moonlight. Crickets were chirping loudly all around the barn. From somewhere out on the prairie she heard the distant mooing of a herd of cattle. She knew that she had her back turned to where the house probably still lurked, waited for her return…

A soft noise behind her broke her train of thought. Somepony was flying over to her.

“Can’t sleep either, huh,” Rainbow observed. She lowered herself next to Twilight and barely found enough room on the haybale for her to sit. She had to hold Twilight with one wing though to prevent her from being pushed off their precarious seat.

“Since when are you so cuddly anyway?” Twilight asked with a smile. “The last time I checked Rainbow ‘Danger’ Dash wouldn’t be caught dead cuddling, being afraid of being not cool.”

“Yeah, you know”, Rainbow replied, “once you’ve reached my level of cool, you can get away with pretty much anything without ever being in serious danger of being uncool.”

“Of course,” Twilight agreed, grinning.

“Y’know, with AJ and you and the other girls, this stuff is almost normal anyway,” Rainbow mused. “I like falling asleep on your reading couch, y’know? It’s not weird or uncool or anything.” She sighed. “It’s great to be back home, y’know.”

“I missed you too, Rainbow,” Twilight said and briefly leaned her head against Rainbow’s. She remembered perfectlywell how the pegasus preferred reading propped up against her on her couch, and how she would almost every time hear the tell-tale thud of a book dropping to the floor followed by soft snores. She found it adorable to be with a version of Rainbow Dash that didn’t need to maintain her cool at all times, and she found it even more adorable that the pegasus for once did not get embarrassed by herself.

Rainbow asked, “So what’d I miss while I was away?”

“Let me see… well, six reading dates, for starters,” Twilight said with a smile. “But Applejack took over your place.”

“AJ? And reading?”

“Not reading per se,” Twilight said. “It was just, on that first Wednesday after you had left she suddenly stood outside my door and asked if I had any plans for the night. So we had some tea and wound up talking all evening. We ended up doing this every single week.”

“Cool,” Rainbow replied, a little bit uneasy due to the implications of Applejack missing her and feeling alone. “Good thing you guys got to hang out and keep each other company while I was gone and all.” She yawned. “Maybe I should get some shuteye. You coming?”

Without waiting for Twilight’s reply, she slowly hovered back to the bed. Twilight followed suit, not sure if she would be able to sleep, but unwilling to stay back all by herself all the same. At least the bed was warm and cozy and full of friends.

They slid under the covers on both sides of Applejack. The earth pony stirred in her sleep but didn’t wake up as Rainbow and Twilight snuggled up against her from both sides.

***

As was her habit, Applejack woke up at the first cry of the rooster, despite her interrupted sleep the night before. Seeing how Rainbow Dash and Twilight were still sleeping left and right of her, she decided to not waste any more time snoozing. She carefully wiggled herself free from her two friends and stretched her legs as she quietly left the hayloft.

The sun had already risen halfway above the eastern horizon. In the courtyard she met Blue Cheese who was feeding a small group of chickens.

“Mornin’, cuz,” he greeted her. “There’s breakfast in the kitchen.”

“Thank you kindly,” she replied and continued on into the farm house. The kitchen was deserted, and on the table a delicious-looking breakfast had been arranged. Her stomach growled in happy anticipation. She sat down and, as a start, stacked a few cheese omelets on her plate.

“Good morning,” Twilight greeted her from the door. “I saw you leave, and Blue Cheese told me where you were,” she hurried to explain as Applejack stared at her with an almost comically confused expression on her face, an unchewed piece of omelet in her mouth.

The earth pony hurried to swallow the omelet. “Mornin’, Twi,” she said solemnly.

Twilight sat down and helped herself to the omelets as well, while Applejack silently continued eating. The omelet had been prepared with the trademark cheese that the ranch produced. It was delicious, but Twilight found it very strange to have breakfast with Applejack that didn’t include any apples. The silence dragged on, until finally Twilight couldn’t stand it anymore.

“How are you doing?” she quietly asked. Applejack looked up and just stared at her for a few moments.

“I didn’t tell her,” she said.

“Look, AJ, I—“

“I lied to her, Twi,” Applejack repeated, her voice suddenly hoarse. Her eyes were shimmering wet. “I lied to my mare!”

Twilight couldn’t stand to see the sadness in Applejack’s eyes. With two flaps of her wings, she was over by her side, intending to hug her and hold her and tell her that everything was going to be okay—but she didn’t. After all, that was exactly what was hurting Applejack, wasn’t it?

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, standing in front of her.

“Don’t, sugarcube,” Applejack said. “This ain’t your fault.”

“If I hadn’t told you—“

“Stop it right there. I’m serious.” And, after a short pause, “Please.”

“Okay.” For some moments, they just stood and looked at each other. Then Twilight asked, “You didn’t tell her about the house, did you?” Applejack shook her head. “Why not?”

“It woulda been too close to… you know. So I rather didn’t mention anything at all.” She sighed. “You didn’t tell her either, did you?”

“No, I didn’t.” Twilight suppressed a shiver. “I don’t want to remember anything about that dreadful house if I don’t have to. It was too horrible.”

Applejack squirmed but didn’t look away. “You mean… us?” she asked hoarsely.

“No, not us,” Twilight hurried to clarify. Applejack gave her a shaky smile in response, but her eyes were still wide and wet. Twilight hated to see her shaken and scared like this, and without thinking, she added, “That was actually the only good part.” She bit her lip, but Applejack didn’t so much as flinch.

“’t was, wasn’t it,” she whispered.

Twilight made a step towards Applejack. Every last fiber of reason in her screamed in outrage, but she couldn’t listen to them, couldn’t acknowledge them. Her only hope was that Applejack would turn away or would tell her to stop, but the farmer just looked into her eyes as she made another step. She noticed that her knees were shaking. The sheer incredibility of what she was doing was taking her breath away. It was the worst possible mistake, and a part of her knew that very well—but a much stronger, much more vocal part of her screamed at her to do it, just do it, just kiss her—

Applejack’s breath softly waved over her snout. Their eyes were locked. Applejack was shivering slightly, but she didn’t move back either. We’re completely insane, Twilight thought.

Their lips touched, and the time stood still. It was unlike the kiss on the grey dusty plains. The air between them was thick with tension, and all thoughts, all fears, any reasoning in Twilight’s head were silenced for that blissful moment when her tongue gently slipped between Applejack’s lips. A flash of warmth jolted through her body, and her mind was made up—made up to throw all her fears and worries to the wind and just be with that wonderful mare—

Then Applejack jerked back. Twilight opened her eyes again—she hadn’t even noticed that she had closed them—and stared right back into Applejack’s, wide with fear. “We must be completely bonkers,” Applejack said, her voice shaky.

“I’m—“ Twilight started.

“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry,” Applejack interrupted her with a weak smile. They stared at each other some longer, then Applejack let out a deep sigh and leaned forward, her head against Twilight’s shoulder. “What in tarnation are we doing?”

There was nothing Twilight could say to that, so she just embraced Applejack and held her close and tried not to think about the house or what they were doing to Rainbow Dash or anything else.

“Group hug!” Before they had even time to turn towards the door, the cyan pegasus who had just entered had crossed the distance between them and embraced the two other ponies. “Morning! How’s the food?”

Applejack was the first to pull herself together. “It’s lovely,” she said, “just no apples which is a bit strange.” She forced a chuckle.

“I’m starving,” Rainbow declared and let go of Applejack and Twilight. She took a seat and began tearing into the breakfast. Seizing Rainbow’s distraction, Applejack quickly wiped her eyes and let go of Twilight who in turn returned to her chair and unenthusiastically continued chewing on her omelet.

Chapter 7 - The prairie (reprise)

Chapter 7 – The prairie (reprise and return)

The sun was again burning from the sky. The prairie was pale and dry and utterly lacking in any interesting detail. So they dragged themselves along again, Twilight in front and Applejack guarding the rear of the two hundred cattle they were accompanying, while Rainbow Dash flew circles above them to keep an eye on the complete herd. And thus they were all alone with their thoughts.

Twilight and Applejack had decided to take a little detour in order to avoid the house, and so they were deliberately digressing to the south. It wouldn’t overly increase the duration of their journey. Rainbow, who had never been in these parts, hadn’t questioned their decision, and if Daisy, the friendly cattle elder, had noticed, she hadn’t mentioned it.

Twilight was only too conscious of Applejack’s presence a few hundred paces behind her, but she never turned around. She was still too scared of the events that had transpired in the kitchen before their departure. How easy it had been for both of them to slip up despite their agreement to just be friends. And how easily she had been willing to forget about what they were doing to Rainbow Dash.

She never looked up either.

This was the way it was supposed to be. She was Applejack’s and Rainbow’s friend, and for anything beyond that there was no place.

And so they marched on. They skipped their lunch break in an unspoken agreement between Applejack and Twilight to get this trip over with as quickly as possible and just had a few bites to eat on the walk. The cows didn’t seem to mind; Daisy told them that they usually didn’t graze much on such cattle drives anyway because feeding made them rather tired.

Rainbow Dash used the time and the—for her standards—slow speed to practice some of her flying tricks and didn’t miss any opportunity to try and get her friends to watch her and cheer her on, but they were both unenthusiastic, as if something was distracting them.

Twilight found her gaze wandering left, to the north, to where they had travelled on their way to Blue Cheese’s farm. Where the house was. She knew that they would pass the house in at least five kilometers distance, but she could feel it looming up there, could feel it looking out for her, waiting for her. She chastised herself for being ridiculous—a house couldn’t look for anyone, a house was just a house, it didn’t even have eyes, it didn’t wait. It stood there in the prairie, and that was it, decaying, eventually crumbling to dust. And if there were any orange rat-things in there, they just lived their orange rat-lives and would eventually die.

She sighed. If she was being honest with herself, she had to admit that she could not simply leave the house being. Something was definitely wrong with the house, and judging from what happened to her and Applejack, it was potentially dangerous. Being a princess—and a proficient magic user—it was her responsibility to make sure nopony would be endangered by a haunted house. She would have to talk to Princess Celestia about it so that it could be officially investigated and properly secured.

Whether it was that the house had somehow hidden between the bright sunrays, or that it had just moved into sight—Twilight didn’t know. But she was not surprised that when she turned her head again the house stood there on the prairie, right in their path, a few kilometers ahead, as if it belonged. She didn’t so much as startle. The house was there, along with the dead trees surrounding it. She could have known it.

“Whoa, what’s that?” Rainbow exclaimed above her, quelling any unpleasant fears that she might suffer from a hallucination. “Who’d be so crazy to build a house here in the middle of nowhere?”

Despite knowing better, Twilight cast a quick compass spell to check if they had deviated from their set course, if the house was perhaps not directly in her path, but of course it was. She stopped in her tracks, her knees suddenly shaky as she realized that she would have to face the house again, the door, the plains, the mountains. She wasn’t sure if she would be able to.

The cattle herd slowly marched past her. Daisy cast her a concerned look but didn’t say anything. Rainbow was still busy hovering above them and staring at the unexpected house.

“It ain’t makin’ no sense,” she heard Applejack behind her. “I know we’re somewhere different. That house can’t be here. It ain’t makin’ a lick of sense at all.”

“It wants to be here,” Twilight quietly said.

Applejack looked at her and noticed how shaky the alicorn was. “You alright, hon?”

“No.”

Applejack put a hoof around Twilight’s withers. “We just walk past it. We don’t go in. It won’t harm you.”

“Guys, what’s with the holdup?” They hadn’t noticed that Rainbow Dash had flown over to them. The cattle had stopped as well, and Daisy was looking at them questioningly from the front of the trek.

“The house,” Twilight said flatly.

“What about it?” asked Rainbow. “Just a deserted house in the middle of nowhere, right?”

“If only.”

“We done seen this house before,” Applejack explained in a low voice. “On our way here. It ain’t right, that place. Haunted, is what it is.”

“Haunted? What’s up with it?”

“It’s a bad place, ain’t that enough?” Applejack asked, her own fear now clearly audible. Rainbow backed off a pace, surprised that her usually so level-headed marefriend was so scared.

“We saw things in there,” Twilight added. “And they saw us. And I think they still see me.” She shuddered.

“What did you see?” Rainbow sounded curious.

“Don’t, hon,” Applejack pleaded, still sounding on the edge. “The place is bad news, ain’t that enough?”

“So we walk past it, problem solved,” Rainbow decided. “Wusses,” she teased them affectionately.

“Yes,” Twilight agreed in a dreamy voice, staring into the distance where the house was, now blocked by the waiting cattle. “No problem at all.”

They stayed together as they came closer to the house. It looked exactly the same, including the few trees behind it. In the setting sun its shadow was reaching out across the prairie. Twilight found it almost impossible to look away from the house, and she had to consciously force herself to every single step. She didn’t know if she had been able to do so had it not for the physical support of Applejack and Rainbow Dash walking next to her, close enough that they constantly brushed against each other. Applejack was obviously as afraid as Twilight, but stubbornly refused to give in to her fear. Rainbow just didn’t accept that the house was a reason to be afraid at all. Twilight couldn’t have hoped for better friends to help her face the dreadful house.

She forced her gaze away from the house and over to the mountains on their right. She thought she saw a little flash of white light in one of the windows, but it could also have been a reflection. Apparently she could not turn her head from the house, even if she tried. She sighed, but smiled when Applejack playfully bumped into her shoulder to distract her.

And in the meantime, the house just came closer.

They decided to rest early, when they were still almost a kilometer away from the house, because Twilight and Applejack didn’t want to spend the night too close to it. Rainbow’s tease was half-hearted, and Daisy, noticing that the ponies were at unease about something, quietly agreed.

Applejack set up the now-familiar stack of Fell Grass and set it ablaze. In the dim pale light of the flickering fire the three ponies set up their bedrolls, Rainbow and Applejack taking Twilight between them. Her guilty consciousness briefly protested, but was quickly outweighed by the comfort of being surrounded by her friends. She looked into the direction where the house was, now obscured by the darkness of the prairie night. Behind her, the cattle were settling with a few quiet moos. She shuddered, and Rainbow squeezed her with the wing she had draped over her.

Rainbow fell asleep almost instantly. Even though she didn’t speak, Twilight was almost sure that Applejack was still awake as well.

Twilight didn’t want to fall asleep, despite the long walk lying ahead of her the next day. She wanted to avoid the dreams she feared would haunt her sleep, dreams that she usually didn’t remember, but that brought her back to the plateau on top of the mountains. And thus she stared into the night and kept staring, even as Applejack finally started softly snoring—and feared the nightly flashes of light only a little less than the nightmares.

***

They were kissing again, more vigorously than ever, their tongues dancing their intricate dance, fencing each other off, intruding, withdrawing, teasing, exploring. She held Twilight tight and had her eyes closed, but she knew that the slumped old mountains were somewhere ahead, and the door was not too far behind them.

Twilight’s hoof slid down her back and came to rest on her flank. She could feel the heat rise in her. They were lying on the bare dusty ground like some homeless donkeys, and there was no doubt in Applejack’s mind that they would do it right here, right now, under the unblinking stars. She moaned and sought for the sensitive spot between Twilight’s wings.

Suddenly Twilight stood up, turned her back on her and walked away. Applejack didn’t need to open her eyes, didn’t need to ask what was going on. She knew. Twilight was being sensible. Twilight was thinking of Rainbow Dash.

***

She jolted awake, her heart hammering in her chest, her breathing heavy. For a moment she thought she tasted Twilight on her lips, making her wonder how much of a dream it had really been.

It was still the middle of the night. She heard Rainbow’s snores from her right, from across the empty spot where Twilight was supposed to sleep—and somepony cantering away into the dark prairie.

“Twi!” she hissed. “Where are you going?” But she didn’t get an answer.

At least not from Twilight. “What the hay, you two,” Rainbow groaned.

“Rainbow!” Applejack yelped. The guilt belatedly rushed through her mind, turning her knees into jelly and making her head dizzy as, at the same time, she still felt the wonderful heat of her dream and the cold leaden guilt over what she was doing to Rainbow Dash.

How could she have done this to the loyal pegasus? How could she have lied to her—granted, only a lie of omission, but a lie nonetheless? If anything, her dream proved that things were not alright with Twilight, that her feelings for the alicorn were way beyond the realm of friendship already, that whatever had happened between her and Twilight had not been accidents but cheating. Rainbow deserved to know of her failure, and she would accept Rainbow’s judgment. The prospect made her physically sick.

“What?”

“Rainbow, I gotta talk to you,” Applejack said, her voice shaky.

“Can’t it wait ‘til tomorrow?”

“It can’t. I’m sorry, hon.” She was sure that this wouldn’t be the last time she apologized to Rainbow this night.

“Alright.” Rainbow turned around and looked at her without sitting up. “What is it?”

Applejack swallowed, fully aware that it was just a feeble attempt at stalling. Her throat was dry. “I… In that house… we…” She cleared her throat and told herself to get it out. “Me and Twi kissed. We…” She hung her head, deflating now that the truth was out. “We kissed,” she lamely repeated.

You—what?”

Finally all the words burst out of her. “In that damned house. I… I found her there. Thought she was dead, but she wasn’t. I was so happy to have her back that we—that I kissed her. I done cheated on you. I’m so sorry.”

“AJ,” Rainbow said, sitting up and slowly shaking her head. “That… it’s no big deal. When you’re excited and all—“

“It wasn’t an accident,” Applejack insisted, still avoiding Rainbow’s eyes. “I… I don’t know what I feel for her, but I know it ain’t been no accident.” She quickly debated not telling her about the second kiss, the one in the ranch kitchen, and immediately scolded herself for being a coward. “And it ain’t been the only time. We kissed again at Blue Cheese’s farm. We talked about it. We agreed that we’re friends and nothin’ but. An’ we still done kissed again.” She felt shameful tears well up in her eyes. She never wanted to look up again.

“You kissed her again,” Rainbow repeated flatly.

“I’m sorry,” Applejack repeated.

“Is this about what you said earlier? That you’re sick of waiting for me?” Rainbow asked hoarsely.

Applejack started, but she still didn’t look up. “I… I don’t rightfully know,” she said after pondering the thought for some time. “I think… maybe… I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

Rainbow remained silent for a moment, clenching her jaw and ruffling her wings. Finally, she asked the one question that really terrified her. “Does it mean you wanna call it quits? I mean you and me?” she almost whipsered. “Is that what you’re saying?”

“Dash, no!” Applejack exclaimed in utter shock. “I love you! I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want us to end, believe me!”

“And you also love Twi.” A statement rather than a question.

“I don’t rightly know,” Applejack had to admit again, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I reckon I got feelings for her. I’m sorry.”

Rainbow remained silent for some time. Applejack felt tears running down her cheeks, but successfully suppressed any sobs. She still didn’t raise her eyes to look at Rainbow as she awaited her sentence. But as the seconds slowly passed, she couldn’t bear the anticipation any longer. “Please say something!” she implored. “If you’re mad we can—“

“I’m not mad,” Rainbow interrupted her, even though she did sound a little heated. A little calmer she continued, “It’s… I mean you didn’t fall for Twi on purpose or something. And… it’s just… that’s quite a bit to take in, y’know. I’m not the happiest pegasus in Equestria right now, but…” She trailed off.

“So… do you wanna… call it quits then?”

“I don’t!” Rainbow said decisively. “I don’t! It’d be all awkward and stuff, and I just want things to be alright, okay? I’m not gonna dump you over this! I’d be an even bigger featherbrain than I am if I ever let you go, don’t you think I know that? I don’t wanna call it quits. We can figure it out.” She swallowed audibly before she added, “And with Twilight too. She’s our best friend. We will figure something out.” She ruffled her wings. “Where’s she off to anyway?”

Chapter 8 - The house (Applejack and Rainbow Dash)

Chapter 8 – The house (Applejack and Rainbow Dash)

“Sweet Celestia! Twi! The house!” Applejack cried. “She’s goin’ back to that darned place! We gotta stop her!” She leapt to her hooves and only needed an instant to get her orientation straight. “That way!”

If Rainbow was fazed by her frantic worrying about Twilight, she didn’t show it. Instead, the pegasus just kept the pace with Applejack as she cantered across the dark prairie, trying to understand what just had happened. She was aware that she had gotten off lightly; part of her had expected that Rainbow would dump her right there and never talk to her again. And part of her still believed that she deserved no less.

She was worried that the crisis was not yet over. She knew that Rainbow didn’t always deal with conflicts and instead just pretended everything was fine while she was brooding. Unfortunately, she couldn’t be sure that Rainbow wasn’t secretly mad at her, and she didn’t think bringing it up again would be a good idea.

She trotted as fast as she dared in the darkness, aware that one misstep could mean a broken leg. Rainbow was easily keeping up, flying next to her. There was still time, she thought. There had to be time. She increased her pace, bordering on a full-blown gallop. Crickets chirped around them and reminded her of the more hostile inhabitants of this land. Her sting itched.

Her sense of direction didn’t let her down. At their speed, it only took them a few minutes until they stood in front of the house, staring uneasily at the open front door.

“Cool place,” Rainbow said, trying in vain to loosen the mood.

“Not again,” Applejack murmured. She cleared her throat. “Let’s go.”

“Alright, let’s do this,” Rainbow said and squeezed past Applejack. She hopped up the few stairs to the porch and entered the house, Applejack right behind her. As soon as Rainbow crossed the threshold, she darted away into the darkness. Applejack was on the alert though and quickly grabbed her tail between her teeth, holding her back.

“What the hay, AJ?”

“You was flyin’ away,” Applejack explained, trying to keep a steady voice. “The house seems to do this.”

As Rainbow turned around and shot her a suspicious glance, Applejack took the opportunity to look around—and gasped. She found herself in the exact replica of the farm house back in Sweet Apple Acres with the kitchen to the right and the sitting room to the right. Something was thudding rhythmically on the upper floor. Unlike at home, all the windows were barred, and only thin slices of sunlight shone in between the gaps between the boards.

“Sunlight?” Rainbow voiced her confusion. “And why does it look like your place?”

“I’ll be darned if’n I know,” Applejack replied. “’t was different the last time I was in here.”

“Any idea where we gonna find her?”

“Yes.” Applejack swallowed. There were way too many reasons why she didn’t want to elaborate how she knew. “We’re looking for a door. Maybe it is standing in the middle of a room. And behind it is a grey plain.”

“An exit. Got it.”

Applejack didn’t correct her. It would have been too complicated to explain what the door was. Besides, she didn’t know what exactly the door was anyway. They would know it when they saw it.

“Wonder where that thudding is comin’ from,” she mumbled.

“Somewhere upstairs,” Rainbow shrugged.

The thudding continued. It sounded like wood hammering against a wall or a floor. It was vaguely familiar, but for the time being it eluded her.

In unspoken agreement they turned to the sitting room. At first glance, everything looked as it should—the quilt covering the old sofa, the sideboard where she kept Sweet Apple Acres’ financial records, the photographs—

But the photographs were different. There were no pictures of her family members; instead, all photographs seemed to depict either Rainbow or Twilight. She looked more closely at one of the pictures and squirmed—it showed Rainbow Dash trying to fly away from a pit filled with serpents and scorpions, but the serpents were holding her legs and pulling her back down. The panicked look on the photographed Rainbow’s face left little doubt that the pegasus knew that she was fighting a losing battle. The other pictures were no better, depicting her friends in mortal peril or suffering from terribly maiming injuries. Applejack’s stomach did a slow somersault, and she had to turn away.

“Do you see the pictures?” Applejack asked, not trusting her own perception in this place. Rainbow nodded, and Applejack added, “What’s on them?”

“You. Twilight. And you’re… hurt,” she said, her voice queasy.

Applejack nodded grimly. “I see you and Twilight. And also… hurt.”

“What the hay is this place?” Rainbow asked. “What’s happening here?” Applejack didn’t answer. Instead, she carefully moved over to the only door in the room which, as she expected, lead to a closet.

She carefully opened the door and was greeted with a shrill shriek. On the ground, surrounded by splatters of its own blood, lay the blue grey bat which had attacked her in the other house. Or the earlier version of the house. Or whatever the right way to put this was. The bat’s wings had been broken, and it was bleeding from a number of cuts all over its body. The bat let go another agonizing shriek and looked up to her, but its gaze was still hostile, and it bared its teeth at her while there was still blood oozing from its wounds.

“What’s in there?” Rainbow asked from behind her, and at the sound of her voice, the bat hissed maliciously.

“Just ‘nother bad dream,” Applejack said, hastily closing the door again. Something about the maimed bat made her feel horrible, just as if she had been the one who had mortally wounded the creature. While she was aware that this was just the way the house tried to get to her, the bat and also the horrible pictures in the sitting room seemed to just add to her already guilty conscience. “She ain’t in there. Let’s check the kitchen.” Above their heads, or rather, above her head, the thudding continued unchanged.

Applejack closed the closet door, and they retreated through the sitting room, trying their best to ignore the ghastly photographs. The shrieks, only partly muffled by the closet door, followed them into the corridor.

They were about to take a closer look at the kitchen when suddenly they heard a strange yelp from upstairs. It was definitely Twilight’s voice, but luckily it didn’t sound like she was in pain or terror. It sounded more like—

And suddenly Applejack knew what caused the constant thudding. Wood hammering against a wooden wall. Her bed. As if somepony was in her bed and—

Only she was pretty sure it was not just somepony.

That’s ridiculous, she thought. I can’t be up there with her. I’m down here! But she couldn’t shake off the feeling that she was right nonetheless. In this house, it seemed possible. Or maybe it was just her guilty conscience that made her think such a thing. Not that I ain’t got reason to feel guilty anyway, despite Rainbow acting all cool.

Rainbow tugged on her tail, one hoof already on the first step. “AJ! Didn’t you hear that? She’s upstairs! Come on!” They cantered up the stairs. The upstairs corridor looked almost the same as it did in Sweet Apple Acres, except for the scorpion that was pinned to the door where Applebloom’s room would have been. A tiny trickle of blood had dripped on the door and dried there. Applejack didn’t have the slightest doubt that it was the very same scorpion that had stung her. It slowly moved its claws, and she quickly turned around. Her healing sting itched.

The thudding was deafening.

“In my—in that room,” Applejack said flatly.

“How do you know?”

“I jus’ do.” Sighing, she put her hoof on the door knob but didn’t open yet. She was scared of what they might find in the room. Of whom they might find in the bed. It would hurt her to see such a thing, and it would probably devastate Rainbow. Not to mention that it would potentially put a dent into her relaxed reaction. She sighed and tried to push such selfish thoughts away as she finally opened the door.

It looked like her room at home, including the bed and the closet. She immediately saw what was causing the bed to thud against the wall, and it made her give a quick, harsh laugh. An orange-coated rat-thing was sitting on the floor and was rhythmically pushing against the bed’s leg, bumping it against the wall. How the small creature, even smaller than Winona, was mustering up the strength was a mystery. When it noticed Applejack and Rainbow, it stopped and hissed at them, baring yellow pointy teeth. Rainbow gave no indication that she had even seen the creature.

The window was barred shut like the windows on the ground floor, but there was no bright sunlight shining through the gaps. Instead, a diffuse dark grey light came in. It was almost the same light as on the plains.

“She’s not here,” Rainbow said. “Next room!”

“Wait.” Following her hunch that Twilight was in this room that had been prepared to seem like she and Twilight had been—had the bed sheets been in such disarray when they had come in? She shook her head. She was losing focus. She was sure that Twilight was in here, and that was more relevant than the bed sheets. Looking around, she wondered where Twilight could hide.

The closet.

She tore the door open and was almost thrown over by the sudden blast of air streaming into the closet. On the ground, there was a swirling opening, a whirlwind of purple and blue light, and it was sucking in all kinds of small items. With a piercing shriek, the rat-thing slid past her and was sucked up by the vortex. She noticed that she was sliding towards the whirling opening herself. She tried to skid back, but lost her grip and slid over the floor. The roar of the vortex was deafening.

“Rainbow!” she yelled, trying to suppress her upcoming panic.

She feared that there would not be enough time. In order to not slide into the abyss head-first, she flailed her hooves and managed to turn around on her belly. Instantly her rear hooves fell into the void, and she tried to hold on to the floor, barely slowing herself down.

“AJ!” Suddenly Rainbow was there and grabbed her hooves, pulling her back at full strength, but only managed to stop her. With a loud grunt, Rainbow stemmed her rear hooves against the closet doorframe, and with the additional foothold she was able to slowly pull Applejack back away from the vortex. Applejack let go of her right hoof and threw herself forward, getting a hold at the doorframe as well. Rainbow reached for the door and managed to pull it shut, cutting off the gust of air being sucked in. Then the pegasus slid to the floor next to Applejack, panting.

“I’m starting to see why you were so scared by this thing,” she managed to say.

“Told ya.”

They left the room and stood in the corridor again. For the first time since she had entered Rainbow took the time to take in her surroundings, having treated the place like a second-rate haunted house on a carnival up until now, not caring for the spooky little props and all. But that thing that had almost sucked up Applejack had been real, and the pictures in the sitting room had been a nasty little detail, let alone the thudding of Applejack’s bed which she had rather not mentioned when she had recognized the sound. She wondered how much of the stuff in this place was random, and how much bore some sort of significance.

And she started to be worried about Twilight. It seemed that the house could be really dangerous after all.

She noticed the dead scorpion pinned to the opposite door. “Any idea what that is?” she asked.

“I think so,” Applejack replied. She held out her leg where the sting was still visible. “One of them buggers done stung me right before we first came here. Twi helped me wear off the venom and took care of me.” She left it at that. Rainbow noticed her discomfort, but didn’t comment on it.

“Whatcha think’s in there?” she asked.

“Let’s find out.” Applejack extended her hoof to the doorknob, and suddenly Rainbow saw that the knob was glowing in an intense cherry red. And then she heard the roaring of the flames. She lunged towards Applejack and pushed her away from the door. Before the farmer could so much as yelp in surprise, the door exploded into the corridor, a host of flames blackening the ceiling. Peeking inside, Rainbow saw that the room didn’t have a floor; instead large flames were reaching out for them from somewhere below. The walls were charred, and besides fire and smoke there was nothing in there.

“Are you alright?” she asked, not letting the fire out of sight.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Different door then,” Rainbow said with faux nonchalance. “How do you know where she went anyway?”

Applejack, who was just getting to her hooves again, froze in a half-kneeling position. Her ears flopped back, and she felt the heat rise in her cheeks again.

“Hello? Equestria to AJ?”

“It’s where we kissed,” Applejack said weakly, not daring to look at Rainbow. She felt terrible. Here she said, only alive because Rainbow had just saved her sorry hide, and had to bring up her betrayal yet again.

Rainbow swallowed and forced herself to maintain a neutral expression as she nodded. “Yeah. Cool,” she said despite herself. Noticing Applejack’s distress, she quickly stepped over to her und gave her cheek a nuzzle, which Applejack rewarded with a weak smile.

She stood up, dusted herself off and took another look into the burning room. The flames had died down, only the charred walls were still covered in bright orange embers. Now she could see that there was a floor, several dozen meters beyond them. Applejack took a step back and looked up to look at the ceiling, but she stepped on something that cracked under her hoof with a dry crunch. Looking down she saw that she had crushed the remains of the scorpion that had been pinned to the exploded door. Disgusted, she hurriedly wiped her hoof on the floor.

“Next room,” Rainbow said and turned to the next door which was where, in the real farmhouse, Big Mac’s room would have been: She quickly checked the door, but couldn’t find any obvious signs of danger. Carefully, she opened the door and immediately, out of pure instinct, spread her wings. Instead of a room, she was looking at a vast grey plain, and she was doing so from several hundred meters up.

“Whoa!”

Applejack craned her neck to see past Rainbow. “That’s the place,” she said flatly.

“Twilight!” Rainbow suddenly shouted and pointed a hoof at a small purple dot. “She’s down there!” Without taking the time to reconsider, she swirled around, swooped Applejack into her hooves, positioned her on her back and dove off the threshold into the cold air above the grey plains.

“Dash!” Applejack yelped in surprise, and it was all she could do to keep her hat from flying away in the sudden draft as they plummeted towards the ground.

Rainbow didn’t think, she just flew towards her target. They had finally found Twilight, and she wasn’t going to leave this house or whatever it was without her. She wasn’t even going to leave her down there any longer than absolutely necessary, just in case anything dangerous was lurking somewhere out there. And judging by their encounters so far that didn’t seem entirely unlikely.

Breathing in the thin air made her feel a lot higher than what it looked like; maybe the plains down there were really a mountain plateau. She tentatively spread her wings a little to test how well the thin air would carry them and decided to pull up much earlier than she would normally have done. Applejack was clinging to her neck for dear life; she didn’t enjoy flying a lot, preferring all her hooves firmly on the ground.

Squinting, she focused on the growing shape of the alicorn slowly wandering along. She had reached a range of rugged mountains that bordered the plains and was making her way up on what looked like an ancient trail. On top, the mountains flattened out to yet another plateau. Up there the air was hazy and she couldn’t see much of what was going on, but it seemed that there was some sort of huge building. Luckily she would reach Twilight fast enough before she would arrive at the top of the plateau. It seemed important that she couldn’t get there.

That was when she saw the bulge in the ground. It was small enough so that it could easily be missed in the dim starlight that was all that lit this place, but she was an expert flier and as such always alert of her surroundings. Whatever it was, it was a lot closer to Twilight then she was, and it was moving. It was obviously a lot slower than she was, but it was so close already. She could not allow that thing to get to Twilight first.

She increased the angle of her dive in order to generate more speed. There was just no time to play it safe; she’d have to pull up at the last instant. She allowed herself two flaps of her wings to gain more speed. The ground was now very close, and she had lost sight of the bulge for the time being which unnerved her even more than her fast descent.

“Hold on, AJ,” she called, “this is gonna be a tight one!” Applejack just nodded, her face buried against Rainbow’s neck.

She spread her wings and pulled up, and for a second she feared she had been too optimistic about the thin air and Applejack’s additional weight, but regaining sight on the bulge gave her the strength to increase her wings’ angle just a little more, to bear the additional strain, and stop their descent just above the ground. Applejack’s tail slid over the ground, but she didn’t complain. Her eyes focused on the bulge, which now seemed to be only a few dozen paces behind Twilight, Rainbow frantically flapped her wings, closing the distance as fast as she could.

“Twilight!” she yelled at the top of her lungs, but the alicorn didn’t give any notice that she had heard her.

She finally landed only a few paces behind Twilight, hastily turning around to keep the bulge in check and dropping Applejack to her hooves in the process. It was still further away from them than they were from Twilight, but they didn’t have much more time. “Twilight!” she yelled again. Again, there was no reaction. She decided she wasn’t going to wait for some miracle to happen.

“AJ! Watch out for the bulge!” she cried and launched herself at Twilight, tackling her and pulling her into a hug with both hooves and wings. “Twi!” she mumbled into her ear. “Twi!” The alicorn remained almost motionless, only slowly leaning into the hug. She was shaking.

Applejack watched the scene, and her first impulse was to storm after Rainbow and make sure Twilight was okay, but her still guilty conscience, only more raw after the talk with Rainbow, made her hesitant. But then Rainbow shot her an impatient glance, and she shakily made her way to the pile of ponies. Rainbow didn’t wait for her to actually join in the hug and just pulled her in with a wing.

“Twi,” Applejack said.

“AJ?” Twilight’s voice was barely audible.

“Twi, are you alright?”

“Twi, we gotta get outta here!” Rainbow chimed in, casting a worried look behind. The bulge was less than thirty paces away now. “I can’t fly both of you!”

“I can’t,” Twilight murmured dreamily.

“Twi!” Applejack insisted. “It’s dangerous here! We ain’t gonna leave you here!”

“Here’s the only place I could ever be with you,” Twilight replied, her voice still dreamy, almost a sing-sang. “So I’d rather stay and dream of our kiss.”

“We don’t have time for this!” Rainbow groaned. “Do something, AJ!”

“But what?!”

Rainbow suddenly had an idea. There was no time to decide whether she liked it. The bulge was only twenty paces away. “Kiss her!”

“You gotta be kidding!”

“Do it!” Rainbow yelled, still clinging on to Twilight, keeping her from walking on.

Applejack pushed her doubts away. With a hoof under Twilight’s chin, she turned her head towards her and pressed her lips onto hers. Twilight went rigid in Rainbow’s embrace, but after a moment of shock she returned the kiss passionately. Applejack was only too aware of Rainbow’s presence, and that made the kiss anything but a pleasant experience, but at least Twilight was reacting again.

“Twi!” Rainbow cried again. “We gotta get going now!”

Twilight broke the kiss and looked around, confused. “Rainbow? AJ? What—“

Hearing voice back to normal was enough for Rainbow, and she just pried Applejack loose from Twilight and took wing. Twilight instinctively took off as well, and not a second too soon. The bulge was only a few paces away from them. As they gained height, it just vanished into the ground. Rainbow wanted to flip it the bird, but her hooves were full with Applejack.

It wasn’t hard to find the door in the sky again, and soon they were back in the corridor. Not wanting to waste any more time in the house, Rainbow didn’t stop and just flew down the stairs, all the while carrying Applejack.

Twilight followed her suit, doing her best to keep up with Rainbow. She was still confused after coming to all of a sudden after what felt like a terrible and beautiful dream. She had a rough idea of what had happened after waking up on the foot of the mountains, but what little sense she could make out of everything was limited to her whereabouts—apparently she had gone into the house again, and had tried to climb the mountains before her friends had stopped her. But there wasn’t even the slightest explanation or theory to why Applejack had kissed her with Rainbow embracing them both. It just didn’t make any sense.

Rainbow led their escape through the ground floor corridor. Nothing was keeping them; it was as if the house had finally given up on them. Rainbow was not overly disappointed about that. She burst through the closed front door and emerged into the cool twilight of early dawn, not even stopping until she had reached their camp. She put a grateful Applejack down on the ground and dropped next to her. Seconds later, Twilight landed near them, but stayed a few paces apart as she sat on her haunches.

“Thanks,” she said sheepishly, still insecure of what to make of the kiss and of Rainbow—being okay with it?

“Anytime.” Rainbow yawned. “Dunno about you guys, but I need some shuteye before we go on with this.” Without further ado, she flopped down on her bedroll.

Applejack gave Twilight an almost apologetic look. “I told her,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.” Then she followed Rainbow Dash to the bed.

Twilight kept sitting, staring at them. She had no idea what to make out of Rainbow’s behavior. If anything, she would have expected the pegasus to be mad, or at least disappointed, after witnessing Applejack kissing her, and even more so after Applejack telling her. She would have expected her to say something. But instead, she seemed absolutely unwilling to even address the issue.

Rainbow, as Twilight knew, was sometimes prone to keeping her emotions to herself, insisting that she was strong and independent and not “emo”, as she called it, which made it hard sometimes to guess what Rainbow was really thinking or feeling. She feared that the pegasus was perhaps building up a grudge against her after all she had done. She would have to—

“Twi, you’re comin’ to bed or what?” Rainbow groaned from where she and Applejack had lain down.

Twilight hesitantly got up and slowly walked over to them. Applejack lay on the left side, Rainbow to her right, already curled up and almost completely hidden underneath her blanket. They had left an empty space between them. It just looked like they wanted her to—

“Are you serious?” she asked incredulously.

“Listen, Twi,” Rainbow said, “can you just come to bed? I’m really tired!”

“But Applejack—and I—and you—“ Twilight stammered, not moving, staring at the bed and her two friends..

“Dammit!” Rainbow huffed and flew up, hovering right in front of Twilight, their faces only a few centimeters apart. “I don’t care what’s going on between you and AJ!” she exclaimed. “I love you both. And I trust you both that you won’t leave me hanging or screw me over. That’s all I care about, okay? I may not be in love with you, Twi, but I don’t give a flying horseapple!” She blushed and for a second averted her gaze before she continued, “’Sides, who knows what’s gonna happen. Aaanyway. So if you and AJ are gonna be all lovey-dovey, that’s fine. And if me and AJ are gonna be all lovey-dovey, that’s fine, too! Why does there have to be a problem? And can we please, for the love of Celestia, just go to sleep now?” Her cheeks slightly flushed, she still looked into Twilight’s eyes and began tugging her down on one of Twilight’s wingtips.

Twilight, flabbergasted by Rainbow’s outburst, allowed her to drag her to the beds and push her down next to Applejack. Rainbow settled down next to her and put a leg around her, Applejack doing the same from the other side. “You’re not mad?” Twilight asked.

“No, I’m not,” Rainbow replied more quietly. “This—us—is way more important than some stupid jealousy. We’re friends. More than friends. Whatever we wanna be. We’ll figure this out.”

“Sugarcube,” Applejack said from the other side, sounding doubtful, “three ponies normally don’t go bein’ each other’s special someponies, y’know.”

“I don’t care!” Rainbow repeated, sounding more and more exasperated. “Why do you want this be a huge problem?” She sat up again and glared at them. “It’s all just so simple! AJ, do you wanna split up?” Shocked, Applejack shook her head. “Twi, would you rather wanna be alone or with AJ and me?”

“Well of course I rather want to be with you two than be alone!” Twilight heatedly replied. “But that’s not the question! The question is, what is poss—“

“Great,” Rainbow cut her short. “AJ, would you rather be with Twi or be without her?”

“I—I wanna be with you,” Applejack said quietly.

“Not what I asked!”

“I guess…,” she stammered, grateful that the darkness hid her flushed cheeks, “I guess I wanna be with Twilight, too.”

“And I wanna be with you, AJ, and I wanna be with you, Twi,” Rainbow said. “These are not… they don’t… there’s no reason we can’t have all of that!”

“They are not mutually exclusive,” Twilight thoughtfully added.

“That.” And with an affectionate smile she added, “Egghead.” Twilight meekly smiled back at her.

“You’re crazy,” Applejack said, slowly shaking her head. “All just because I messed up… how is this fair to you, Dash? Or Twilight? I don’t deserve to… to...” She blushed. “Get my cake and eat it, so to speak.”

“It’s fair because it’s what we all want,” Twilight explained, finally picking up on Rainbow’s reasoning. “Not just for ourselves, but for each other.”

“Yeah, exactly! So will you stop telling yourself that you don’t deserve this? Please?” Rainbow added with a hint of impatience in her voice.

“You’re crazy,” Applejack repeated. “We’ll have a lot to figure out. But, y’know, I trust you, too, and guess I better get startin’ to believe we can figure it out.” She yawned and leaned over Twilight, kissing first the Rainbow Dash and then, with only the slightest hesitation, Twilight as well. “Night, girls.”

“Polyamory,” Twilight said. When Rainbow looked at her questioningly, she hastily added, “That’s the name for a relationship like this. With more than two ponies involved. It’s called polyamory.”

The pegasus looked at her for a second, then, without a word, turned around under her blanket until she lay with her back to Twilight, resting her head on her shoulder. “Whatever,” she said happily. “But you’re comfy, and for now, that’s all I care about. Whatever it’s called.” Twilight couldn’t hold back a chuckle. She put her left wing over Applejack, who was already snoring softly, and tentatively extended her right one over Rainbow’s belly, careful not to cover her face. The pegasus sighed contently.

“Night.” Closely surrounded by her friends, or her marefriends, or whatever they were, it was easy to forget the nightmares that she had experienced in the damnable house. She made a mental note to inform Princess Celestia about the house so that it could at least be secured before other ponies got into danger, and with a sigh she finally fell asleep. Her last thought was that Rainbow was probably right—they would sort out the details eventually.

Author's Note

And we're done!

I admit I'm not too excited about how this story turned out, but I enjoyed writing it. Sometimes, that's enough for me.

Thanks for reading!