The Equestria Gamesby Sparkers16ChaptersPrologueThe ReapingGoodbyesPrologueThe formerly pristine castle halls seemed dark and gloomy in the empty night. Peacekeepers, holding humongous guns as they patrolled the area, didn't help much, either. But the most foreboding aspect of the rotting castle was the most beautiful aspect. The large, white alicorn with a flowing mane of many hues that paced nervously in what used to be her throne room in the quiet little mountain town of Canterlot, now known simply as the Capitol. As the rebellion ended, and the provinces of Equestria split into twelve, solitary districts, Celestia became so busy with politics and battles that she hardly used her castle at all. The medieval building sank into disuse as more and more innovative technology was invented, and now, after almost a thousand years, it was little more than a crumbling structure on the mountain. The castle was open as a museum for Capitol citizens, but tonight it was closed. "Spike." Celestia whispered into the gadget strapped on her foreleg. She hated all this technology, and wished that things could go back to the way it used to be, when unicorns would use magic to supply everypony's needs. But unicorns were almost extinct now, and these silly gadgets were the way to go. "Y-yes, Your Highness?" the voice of Spike, Celestia's baby dragon servant came though the radio. She knew Spike despised her. After all, she was the one who slaughtered Princess Luna during the rebellion, the one who imprisoned Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, and Rainbow Dash in the sun and Rarity, Pinkie Pie, and Fluttershy on the moon. Spike, being a domestic dragon, would be a perfect eternal servant. Dragons were immortal, after all. So who cared if he loathed Celestia? He was trapped under her rule. If he tried to resist, then Celestia would kill him, or worse. "Spike. I have sensed, that after all these years, the spirits of the Elements of Harmony have left those imprisoned on the sun and moon and are leaking into ponies in the districts." Celestia heard him gasp, and knew what he was thinking: There was a chance that the new bearers of the Elements of Harmony would be able to overthrow Celestia. Well, she couldn't change his opinions. But she could control his actions, and he wasn't going to rebel against her, that was for sure. "I have sensed who the new six bearers are with my magic," Celestia continued. "But...but magic is forbidden, Your Highness!" Spike cried out. "Who makes the rules, Spike?" "Y-you do, Your Highness." "Precisely. Therefore, I am an exception to that rule. Do you understand?" "I understand." "You understand...what?" "I-I understand, Your Highness," Spike corrected himself. No one called Celestia Your Highness anymore except him. They usually called her President nowadays. But seeing as Spike was from the era when she was still a princess, well, it just seemed more...suitable for him. "Thank you," Celestia said. "I have sent you an e-mail containing the names, districts, and much other information for each of the six new bearers. Spike, your task is to make sure that these six mares will play in the Games." "O-of course, Your Highness," Spike agreed, and Celestia ended the call. Relieved, she activated her magic and teleported back to her mansion in a flash of light. These new bearers of Kindness, Generosity, Honesty, Loyalty, Laughter, and Magic would soon be extinguished. After all, there could only be one winner in the Equestria Games. The ReapingDistrict 12 I lie on my scruffy hay bed, refusing to open my eyes. Opening my eyes would mean that I have to acknowledge that it's a new day. I'm not a lazy pony, no, but today is not a day I want to start. The reaping. "Up and at 'em, Firespell," I hear my big brother, Treetop's voice. Instead of his usual pep, my older brother and caretaker sounds anxious. But how could he not be? Today, my name will be written four times, for my fifteen years of age, on slips of paper in the glass reaping ball. Treetop is lucky. He's twenty years old, so he can't be drawn. But ever since our parents died in a cart accident two years ago, and he was legally assigned as my guardian, I know that I've become the world to Treetop. I...I just don't know what I'll do if my name is chosen, let alone what he'll do. "Don't call me Firespell," I mutter, rolling over in bed. "You know my new name is Maple Leaf." I probably owe you an explanation. I'm a unicorn. You wouldn't know by looking at me; I've styled my long, red-and-green mane to hide my horn. I don't want any attention. Unicorns are extremely rare, and magic is illegal. Hence the reason why I changed my name from Firespell to Maple Leaf. The hard part is hiding my cutie mark, a flaming star. I hate attention more than anything, so I always sit alone at school, always walk home by myself, always make conversations brief at the market when I go out to buy food and other necessities. "Whatever," Treetop chuckles, ripping off my ragged blanket. We're poor, I won't deny it. We barely get by. I open my eyes and see Treetop smiling at me, but I can tell he's just trying to reassure me about the reaping. He has a brown-ish coat, darker than my orange one, and a curly green mane. We have a meager breakfast of apples and oats. Treetop works at the massive apple orchard, like almost every other pony in District 12. I've heard District 12 is located in a place that used to be called Ponyville. And there was a huge apple industry called Sweet Apple Acres, which left so many apple trees after the rebellion that District 12 became Equestria's main apple producer. I poke at my breakfast, unable to eat. What if I get picked? There will be thousands of slips. My name will be four out of those. It's highly unlikely, but I can't just dismiss the possibility. "Firespell," Treetop says loudly, jolting me out of my fear-induced paralysis. "Yeah?" I don't bother to correct him. I've never understood why my parents named me Firespell. Sure, I have a talent for magic, it's clear as day, but having a name directly correlating to magic is very, very suspicious. "I...I know you're really worried about the reaping. I am, too. But...you won't get picked. I promise." I feel myself tearing up. I'm not an emotional pony, but my brother always brings out the touchy-feely side of me. "You can't promise that." Treetop looks away. He can't. The two of us trudge to town square, where the reaping is being held. Oh, wouldn't it be great if we could just skip the reaping, run into the woods and never return. But the Everfree Forest is filled to the brim with horrible monsters: Manticores, cockatrices, parasprites, chimeras, dragons, diamond dogs...the list goes on and on. Just another reason to stay trapped under Sun-Butt's rule, I think to myself bitterly, using the funny name we sometimes use to call President Celestia. Or, used to use. The name lost it's hilarity after ponies who said it started disappearing. We arrive at the center of town, and it's jam-packed. Adults and small foals crowd around the outside, crying as their children are taken into the center. Up ahead is the makeshift gate to separate parents from children. Treetop and I embrace. No words need to be said. I trot over to the gate, where a Peacekeeper, one of Celestia's army, is taking blood samples to identify each mare and stallion. I walk up to him, and wince as he jabs a needle into my foreleg and uses a machine to examine the blood. He immediately frowns in confusion. I know that unicorns have different blood than earth ponies and pegasi. "Part your mane," he says gruffly. I reluctantly use my hooves to split my mane, showing my horn in all it's glory. The ponies around me gasp; they have either never seen a unicorn before or are shocked that I'm one. The Peacekeeper scowls. He has to make sure my horn isn't a fake. It's the same deal every year. "Show us magic," he growls. I'd love more than anything to give them all a show. I could levitate ten ponies, or produce fireworks, or summon a column of flame (my special talent!). But showing that I have magical abilities that powerful would get me executed. So instead, I just produce a small shower of sparks out of the tip of my horn, and act as if that takes me a great deal of effort. Still, just that earns me gazes of awe and disgust from all the ponies around me. The Peacekeeper nods. "Your name's Maple Leaf?" "Yep," I say, rocking back and forth on my hooves nervously. He opens the gate, and I walk through. I find the area for fifteen-year olds, and stand by myself. I can see other ponies grouping with their friends, crying and reassuring one another. Sometimes, I wish I have friends. But it's always just a fleeting thought. In this hell of life in District 12, it's everypony for themselves. At least in my opinion. Besides...who needs friends when you've got the best brother in the whole wide world? The minutes tick by as the fifteen-year-olds fill up the section, their flanks pressing into mine uncomfortably. I pity anypony with claustrophobia. I take the time to carefully put my mane back in place so it completely covers my horn. Finally, a horn sounds, silencing us all. We all look toward the giant stage set up on one side of the plaza. A giant TV screen is being lowered so we can all see. Oh, pony feathers. Here comes that history movie, once again. They show it every year, detailing a highly biased account of the rebellion. I don't really know what happened in that rebellion almost a thousand years ago. But according to the Capitol, ponies were upset because some were beginning to worship President Celestia as a god, and the immortal alicorn wasn't protesting against this. So a group of ponies tried to assassinate her. The movie skims over the details, but as I can see, a rebellion against Celestia's rule ensued. Of course, the movie mentions how this rebellion was a horrible occurrence, showing all the gory details and saying how much destruction a rebellion causes. Um, yeah, there's going to be dead bodies in a war, I think, rolling my eyes like I always do at this part. Then, of course, they show the forming of the districts, "a group of provinces that positively contribute to all of Equestria." Do they show the starvation in the districts, the over-worked ponies, the homeless, dead in the street? Nope. The movie ends with an explanation of the Equestria Games, which used to be a contest of sporting events. After the rebellion, to punish the districts for rising up against the Capitol, the Equestria Games were changed so that each district would send a young mare and stallion to the Capitol, where they would be shipped to an arena to fight to the death. The winner would go home with riches of plenty, and their district would be showered with gifts of food. In nine hundred ninety-nine years, we've had exactly fourteen victors. Only one is alive now. His name is Appleseed. As soon as the film's over, the mayor and District 12's tribute escort, Frilly Lace, come onto the stage, the latter hobbling in her ridiculously high heels. Frilly Lace is a white pony with a crazily styled pink mane, but the most eye-catching thing about her is her outfit. She's wearing this huge, layered, sequined, yellow dress. But it's not ordinary yellow; her dress is so neon it hurts my eyes. She's also wearing generous amounts of makeup, and her ears and nose are pierced with diamonds. I'll never be able to understand Capitol fashions, how this deformed monstrosity of an outfit can be considered "beautiful." And Frilly Lace looks boring compared to some of the grotesque fashion statements I've seen Canterlot ponies wearing. Fur dyed in spiraling patterns, eyes enlarged to take up somepony's entire face, holes punched in hooves, ears carved in different shapes...the list goes on and on. Frilly and the mayor exchange worried looks. Appleseed isn't here yet. Frilly hops up on the podium anyway. "Welcome, everypony, to the nine hundred ninety-ninth annual Equestria Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" Frilly Lace pipes in her weird Capitol accent. "Don't you just love that movie?" No, every pony in the plaza thinks. A bit put off by the lack of an answer, she moves things along. "Okay then, let's get to the name-picking! Ladies first!" Frilly Lace practically skips over to the glass ball holding the mares' names and sticks her hoof in. I bite my lip, and hope it's not me, it's not me, it's not me... Frilly Lace sticks her hoof in and pokes around the slips of paper containing names. Oh, where is it, where is it, where is it? she thinks to herself. She was told by President Celestia's advisors that she NEEDED to pick the slip that made her hoof tingle when she touched it. It supposedly is enchanted, and Frilly knows magic is illegal, but she trusts the government. Aha! she thinks as her hoof closes around a slip of paper that makes it tingle as if it were asleep. Frilly picks up the paper without hesitation and takes it with her to the podium. "And the lucky mare is..." She opens up the carefully folded slip and reads the name on it over and over in her head before announcing it. "Maple Leaf!" GoodbyesI feel like somepony just hit me hard in the chest, and I can't move or breathe. Why? Why me? What did I do to deserve this? It's not like my name being chosen was impossible, but it was definitely unlikely! "Maple Leaf," Frilly Lace says again, sealing my fate. "Maple Leaf, whoever you are, please come up and introduce yourself!" As the crowd parts, some of them knowing who I am, I can't help but be disgusted by Frilly Lace. How can she be upbeat and excitable when she's sending fillies and colts to be slaughtered? Doesn't she have any sense of compassion? "Ahem, would the filly named Maple Leaf come on up to the stage," she snorts, starting to get annoyed. I feel my hooves starting to move, one slow step in front of another. I climb the stairs and stand on the stage, looking out at the crowd of thousands. The only sound I hear is the wind whistling through the air. No volunteers. Nopony ever volunteers in District 12. The eyes of the thousands of ponies bore into me, judging me, probably assuming I'll be one of the first to die. I see Treetop all the way in the back. I can't make out his expression from here, but I know that he's devastated. No, worse than devastated. He's going through his own personal nightmare right now. Whatever I'm feeling, he's feeling a thousand times worse. "Alright everypony, let's give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!" Frilly squeals, and the ponies all slowly clap, not taking their eyes off of me. Nopony really knows me. Nopony is going to grieve for me. Except my brother. He'll be all alone now... Just then, Appleseed, District 12's only surviving victor, comes galloping onto the stage. He's late, as always. He has a white coat and a dark brown mane streaked with red. His cutie mark is missing; his flank was mangled in the Games. "Sorry I'm late," Appleseed whispers rather loudly to the mayor and Frilly Lace. The former nods in forgiveness, but the latter just gives out a little "Hmph!" Then, Appleseed gazes at me. He's staring at me now, but not into my eyes. More like he's staring at my mane...at my horn. Oh, no...did I not do a good enough job at hiding it? I raise my hoof to touch my mane, but Appleseed gives an almost imperceptible shake of his head. I guess nopony can see my horn...but how can he? Frilly Lace's obnoxious voice pierces my thoughts. "Now it's time to choose a colt tribute!" She walks from the podium to the glass ball with the stallions' names. I don't really care who gets picked. The only stallion I care for is Treetop, and he's too old for his name to be in. Frilly picks out a name. That's weird...she took a much shorter time picking a colt than a filly. I'm probably just imagining it, though. "And our colt tribute for the nine hundred ninety-ninth Equestria Games is...Pokeweed!" I scan the crowd and find one colt who's walking forward, shock and despair written all over his face. As he scales the steps and stands next to me, I get a better look at him. He's a twelve-year-old, without a doubt. In fact, he looks younger than twelve. Pokeweed is a small, skinny pegasus with a green coat and a short, black-and-magenta mane, and doesn't even have his cutie mark yet. He's trembling in fear, and I can see tears pour out of his big, emerald eyes. I've changed my mind...I do care who gets picked. I'm threatening to tear up, too. But I force myself not to cry. There are cameras everywhere, and if the millions of ponies watching this right now see me break down, then they'll think I'm weak and helpless. Then nopony will bet sponsor money on me. So I harden my features into an indifferent mask. But on the inside, I'm weeping. "Go on, you two. Shake hooves!" Frilly says with a huge smile. I've decided that I don't like her. I offer my hoof tentatively toward Pokeweed, and he shakes it, sobs racking his puny frame. He probably has a family, has friends that'll mourn for him...No. I have to stop thinking like that. If I want to stand a chance at winning the Equestria Games--hypothetically, I'm not exactly feeling very confident--then Pokeweed will have to die. There's no way around it. There can only be one winner of the Equestria Games. The Equestria anthem plays. I can't stand the anthem. It spouts stuff like, "fulfilling your destiny" and "you've come such a long, long way." It's sung by President Celestia, who has a seductive, almost hypnotic voice. I swear that anthem is brain-washing the citizens of the districts. As soon as the anthem ends, a large group of white-armored Peacekeepers escorts us to the Justice Building, an old, creaky wooden tower. It used to be the city hall of Ponyville centuries ago. Did I say "escort?" I meant that they ushered us harshly and quickly across town, not hesitating to whack us with their batons if we slowed down. I'm forced into a large room, and the door is slammed shut behind me. This is the time where I'll get to say good-bye to my loved ones...I can't cry. I can't cry. I can't cry. I sit down on one of the plush benches in the room, running my hooves repeatedly over the soft fabric to calm myself. The door opens a crack. I brace myself for the wave of despair I'll feel when seeing my brother, but I'm surprised when two ponies, a mare and a stallion whom I don't recognize walk in. No...I do know them. Those are the ponies who run the apothecary in District 12. I've heard rumors that they go out into the Everfree Forest every day to gather the herbs they use to make their medicines. I've never been into the Everfree, although Treetop has gone on occasion. It's not as if you can't get into the forest; the chain-link fence is harmless and riddled with holes that make it easy to sneak in and out. But the monsters that lurk in that forest scare everypony away, including me. The mare is a pegasus with a brown coat and a black-and-magenta mane, and emerald eyes. The stallion has a pea-green coat and a darker green mane. I don't know why I care about their appearance, but then it strikes me: They must be Pokeweed's parents. Why are they visiting me? Shouldn't they be seeing their son? The stallion clears his throat. "Hello...Maple Leaf, was it?" I nod. "I...I'm sorry to trouble you like this. I understand that you must have other ponies you want to see," he says. His wife isn't saying a word; she's too busy sobbing into a handkerchief. "It's fine," I murmur. The two of them step over to my bench. "...Mind if we sit down?" "Whatever floats your boat," I sigh. The stallion and the mare sit down next to me. "I'm sorry for not introducing myself. My name is Evergreen, and this is my wife Sparrow Wing. Our son...is Pokeweed." Evergreen ducks his head, and I spot a couple tears drop out of his eyes, staining the fancy carpet. "I can tell," I say dismissively. I hate sounding so indifferent, but if I have to choose between teary eyes and apathy, I'd always take the latter. Evergreen nods slowly. "Well...um, we hate to ask you this, and we understand that you'll probably refuse--" "Please protect our son!" Sparrow Wing interrupts, raising her head so that her tear-stained, green eyes are on level with mine. "Protect your son?" I repeat in disbelief. "No...well, I mean, sort of," Evergreen stammers. "Pokeweed is convinced that he's going to die. He told us this morning that he'd never stand a chance in the Games. We want you to, erm, make sure he stays safe. Ally with him, I guess." I feel a knot of guilt form in my chest as I speak my next words, "I'm sorry, but I can't assure your son's safety." "W-we know. We knew you would say that," Evergreen whispers. He stands up to leave, but his wife stops him. Sparrow Wing comes over and gets in my face. "Please help him. He needs comfort from somepony, and we won't be there for him anymore." I find myself glaring at her. "What's in it for me? Why should I be tethered to a helpless twelve-year-old?" Sparrow and her husband wince, and the knot of guilt only tightens more. I'm beginning to worry that this aloof cover is replacing my true personality. Sparrow smiles a bit. "Our son ventures into the Everfree Forest by himself everyday. He knows what plants are edible or not, how to start a fire, and even how to ward off monsters. He'll be a huge help to you if you ally with him." I feel my jaw hanging open, and I quickly close it. "I'll consider helping him," I say deliberately. "Thank you...thank you so much," Evergreen says, wiping tears from his eyes. And with that, Evergreen and Sparrow exit the room, leaving me feeling shameful and excited at the same time. Pokeweed could be a huge help to me, but I don't think I can cope with the responsibility of watching over somepony. The door opens again, and as soon as Treetop walks in, I gallop up to him and give him the biggest hug I've ever given anypony in my whole life. "Whoa, there, Firespell," he says, still trying to seem happy for my sake. But I can tell from his red, puffy eyes that he's been crying. "I swear...you're just calling me 'Firespell' to spite me now," I giggle, feeling oddly giddy. Well, why not? Just like being cold before, it's either this or crying. "You seem upbeat," Treetop cracks. "Trust me, I'm not. I'm gonna die." "You're not gonna die." "Yes, I am." "You're not." "Am." "Not." "Am!" "Not!" "Am!" We both smile at each other weakly. We're arguing just like normal siblings would. Like we would before our parents died. After they were gone, we stopped fighting and became inseparable. "You're gonna be fine, Sis," Treetop says, reaching out with his strong hooves and swinging me on top of his back, just like he would when I was a filly. I nestle my head into his thick, green curls, inhaling the fresh, piney smell he's contracted from years of working on the apple orchards. This will probably be the last time I can be with him. "Be serious, Treetop," I sigh. "I can't win this. Just promise that you'll live on without me, okay?" "I promise," he says sincerely. "But don't count yourself out," he pats me on the head, his hoof brushing against my horn. My magic. "You know that's illegal," I whisper, keeping my voice as quiet as possible. This room is probably bugged. "Even if I win, they'll just execute me." Or execute you, I think. Treetop takes a deep breath, and I can tell he's holding back tears. I feel a rush of gratefulness. If he cries, I'll be sure to cry as well. This is why Treetop is such a great brother: he always understands me and my motives. "Just try, Firespell. You have to try," he says, his voice strained. "I promised that I'd live on without you, but you have to promise me that you'll try." "Of course." I embrace him once more, taking these last few moments we have to feel my brother, to be with him, two perfect puzzle pieces fitting together. The Peacekeepers are here again. "Get out," they command Treetop. "Just hold on," Treetop growls. In response, the Peacekeepers grab him. "I love you!" I howl. "I love you, too!" he returns, giving me a half-smile as they drag him outside, the door slamming shut behind them. I've never felt so lonely.
PrologueThe formerly pristine castle halls seemed dark and gloomy in the empty night. Peacekeepers, holding humongous guns as they patrolled the area, didn't help much, either. But the most foreboding aspect of the rotting castle was the most beautiful aspect. The large, white alicorn with a flowing mane of many hues that paced nervously in what used to be her throne room in the quiet little mountain town of Canterlot, now known simply as the Capitol. As the rebellion ended, and the provinces of Equestria split into twelve, solitary districts, Celestia became so busy with politics and battles that she hardly used her castle at all. The medieval building sank into disuse as more and more innovative technology was invented, and now, after almost a thousand years, it was little more than a crumbling structure on the mountain. The castle was open as a museum for Capitol citizens, but tonight it was closed. "Spike." Celestia whispered into the gadget strapped on her foreleg. She hated all this technology, and wished that things could go back to the way it used to be, when unicorns would use magic to supply everypony's needs. But unicorns were almost extinct now, and these silly gadgets were the way to go. "Y-yes, Your Highness?" the voice of Spike, Celestia's baby dragon servant came though the radio. She knew Spike despised her. After all, she was the one who slaughtered Princess Luna during the rebellion, the one who imprisoned Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, and Rainbow Dash in the sun and Rarity, Pinkie Pie, and Fluttershy on the moon. Spike, being a domestic dragon, would be a perfect eternal servant. Dragons were immortal, after all. So who cared if he loathed Celestia? He was trapped under her rule. If he tried to resist, then Celestia would kill him, or worse. "Spike. I have sensed, that after all these years, the spirits of the Elements of Harmony have left those imprisoned on the sun and moon and are leaking into ponies in the districts." Celestia heard him gasp, and knew what he was thinking: There was a chance that the new bearers of the Elements of Harmony would be able to overthrow Celestia. Well, she couldn't change his opinions. But she could control his actions, and he wasn't going to rebel against her, that was for sure. "I have sensed who the new six bearers are with my magic," Celestia continued. "But...but magic is forbidden, Your Highness!" Spike cried out. "Who makes the rules, Spike?" "Y-you do, Your Highness." "Precisely. Therefore, I am an exception to that rule. Do you understand?" "I understand." "You understand...what?" "I-I understand, Your Highness," Spike corrected himself. No one called Celestia Your Highness anymore except him. They usually called her President nowadays. But seeing as Spike was from the era when she was still a princess, well, it just seemed more...suitable for him. "Thank you," Celestia said. "I have sent you an e-mail containing the names, districts, and much other information for each of the six new bearers. Spike, your task is to make sure that these six mares will play in the Games." "O-of course, Your Highness," Spike agreed, and Celestia ended the call. Relieved, she activated her magic and teleported back to her mansion in a flash of light. These new bearers of Kindness, Generosity, Honesty, Loyalty, Laughter, and Magic would soon be extinguished. After all, there could only be one winner in the Equestria Games.
The ReapingDistrict 12 I lie on my scruffy hay bed, refusing to open my eyes. Opening my eyes would mean that I have to acknowledge that it's a new day. I'm not a lazy pony, no, but today is not a day I want to start. The reaping. "Up and at 'em, Firespell," I hear my big brother, Treetop's voice. Instead of his usual pep, my older brother and caretaker sounds anxious. But how could he not be? Today, my name will be written four times, for my fifteen years of age, on slips of paper in the glass reaping ball. Treetop is lucky. He's twenty years old, so he can't be drawn. But ever since our parents died in a cart accident two years ago, and he was legally assigned as my guardian, I know that I've become the world to Treetop. I...I just don't know what I'll do if my name is chosen, let alone what he'll do. "Don't call me Firespell," I mutter, rolling over in bed. "You know my new name is Maple Leaf." I probably owe you an explanation. I'm a unicorn. You wouldn't know by looking at me; I've styled my long, red-and-green mane to hide my horn. I don't want any attention. Unicorns are extremely rare, and magic is illegal. Hence the reason why I changed my name from Firespell to Maple Leaf. The hard part is hiding my cutie mark, a flaming star. I hate attention more than anything, so I always sit alone at school, always walk home by myself, always make conversations brief at the market when I go out to buy food and other necessities. "Whatever," Treetop chuckles, ripping off my ragged blanket. We're poor, I won't deny it. We barely get by. I open my eyes and see Treetop smiling at me, but I can tell he's just trying to reassure me about the reaping. He has a brown-ish coat, darker than my orange one, and a curly green mane. We have a meager breakfast of apples and oats. Treetop works at the massive apple orchard, like almost every other pony in District 12. I've heard District 12 is located in a place that used to be called Ponyville. And there was a huge apple industry called Sweet Apple Acres, which left so many apple trees after the rebellion that District 12 became Equestria's main apple producer. I poke at my breakfast, unable to eat. What if I get picked? There will be thousands of slips. My name will be four out of those. It's highly unlikely, but I can't just dismiss the possibility. "Firespell," Treetop says loudly, jolting me out of my fear-induced paralysis. "Yeah?" I don't bother to correct him. I've never understood why my parents named me Firespell. Sure, I have a talent for magic, it's clear as day, but having a name directly correlating to magic is very, very suspicious. "I...I know you're really worried about the reaping. I am, too. But...you won't get picked. I promise." I feel myself tearing up. I'm not an emotional pony, but my brother always brings out the touchy-feely side of me. "You can't promise that." Treetop looks away. He can't. The two of us trudge to town square, where the reaping is being held. Oh, wouldn't it be great if we could just skip the reaping, run into the woods and never return. But the Everfree Forest is filled to the brim with horrible monsters: Manticores, cockatrices, parasprites, chimeras, dragons, diamond dogs...the list goes on and on. Just another reason to stay trapped under Sun-Butt's rule, I think to myself bitterly, using the funny name we sometimes use to call President Celestia. Or, used to use. The name lost it's hilarity after ponies who said it started disappearing. We arrive at the center of town, and it's jam-packed. Adults and small foals crowd around the outside, crying as their children are taken into the center. Up ahead is the makeshift gate to separate parents from children. Treetop and I embrace. No words need to be said. I trot over to the gate, where a Peacekeeper, one of Celestia's army, is taking blood samples to identify each mare and stallion. I walk up to him, and wince as he jabs a needle into my foreleg and uses a machine to examine the blood. He immediately frowns in confusion. I know that unicorns have different blood than earth ponies and pegasi. "Part your mane," he says gruffly. I reluctantly use my hooves to split my mane, showing my horn in all it's glory. The ponies around me gasp; they have either never seen a unicorn before or are shocked that I'm one. The Peacekeeper scowls. He has to make sure my horn isn't a fake. It's the same deal every year. "Show us magic," he growls. I'd love more than anything to give them all a show. I could levitate ten ponies, or produce fireworks, or summon a column of flame (my special talent!). But showing that I have magical abilities that powerful would get me executed. So instead, I just produce a small shower of sparks out of the tip of my horn, and act as if that takes me a great deal of effort. Still, just that earns me gazes of awe and disgust from all the ponies around me. The Peacekeeper nods. "Your name's Maple Leaf?" "Yep," I say, rocking back and forth on my hooves nervously. He opens the gate, and I walk through. I find the area for fifteen-year olds, and stand by myself. I can see other ponies grouping with their friends, crying and reassuring one another. Sometimes, I wish I have friends. But it's always just a fleeting thought. In this hell of life in District 12, it's everypony for themselves. At least in my opinion. Besides...who needs friends when you've got the best brother in the whole wide world? The minutes tick by as the fifteen-year-olds fill up the section, their flanks pressing into mine uncomfortably. I pity anypony with claustrophobia. I take the time to carefully put my mane back in place so it completely covers my horn. Finally, a horn sounds, silencing us all. We all look toward the giant stage set up on one side of the plaza. A giant TV screen is being lowered so we can all see. Oh, pony feathers. Here comes that history movie, once again. They show it every year, detailing a highly biased account of the rebellion. I don't really know what happened in that rebellion almost a thousand years ago. But according to the Capitol, ponies were upset because some were beginning to worship President Celestia as a god, and the immortal alicorn wasn't protesting against this. So a group of ponies tried to assassinate her. The movie skims over the details, but as I can see, a rebellion against Celestia's rule ensued. Of course, the movie mentions how this rebellion was a horrible occurrence, showing all the gory details and saying how much destruction a rebellion causes. Um, yeah, there's going to be dead bodies in a war, I think, rolling my eyes like I always do at this part. Then, of course, they show the forming of the districts, "a group of provinces that positively contribute to all of Equestria." Do they show the starvation in the districts, the over-worked ponies, the homeless, dead in the street? Nope. The movie ends with an explanation of the Equestria Games, which used to be a contest of sporting events. After the rebellion, to punish the districts for rising up against the Capitol, the Equestria Games were changed so that each district would send a young mare and stallion to the Capitol, where they would be shipped to an arena to fight to the death. The winner would go home with riches of plenty, and their district would be showered with gifts of food. In nine hundred ninety-nine years, we've had exactly fourteen victors. Only one is alive now. His name is Appleseed. As soon as the film's over, the mayor and District 12's tribute escort, Frilly Lace, come onto the stage, the latter hobbling in her ridiculously high heels. Frilly Lace is a white pony with a crazily styled pink mane, but the most eye-catching thing about her is her outfit. She's wearing this huge, layered, sequined, yellow dress. But it's not ordinary yellow; her dress is so neon it hurts my eyes. She's also wearing generous amounts of makeup, and her ears and nose are pierced with diamonds. I'll never be able to understand Capitol fashions, how this deformed monstrosity of an outfit can be considered "beautiful." And Frilly Lace looks boring compared to some of the grotesque fashion statements I've seen Canterlot ponies wearing. Fur dyed in spiraling patterns, eyes enlarged to take up somepony's entire face, holes punched in hooves, ears carved in different shapes...the list goes on and on. Frilly and the mayor exchange worried looks. Appleseed isn't here yet. Frilly hops up on the podium anyway. "Welcome, everypony, to the nine hundred ninety-ninth annual Equestria Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" Frilly Lace pipes in her weird Capitol accent. "Don't you just love that movie?" No, every pony in the plaza thinks. A bit put off by the lack of an answer, she moves things along. "Okay then, let's get to the name-picking! Ladies first!" Frilly Lace practically skips over to the glass ball holding the mares' names and sticks her hoof in. I bite my lip, and hope it's not me, it's not me, it's not me... Frilly Lace sticks her hoof in and pokes around the slips of paper containing names. Oh, where is it, where is it, where is it? she thinks to herself. She was told by President Celestia's advisors that she NEEDED to pick the slip that made her hoof tingle when she touched it. It supposedly is enchanted, and Frilly knows magic is illegal, but she trusts the government. Aha! she thinks as her hoof closes around a slip of paper that makes it tingle as if it were asleep. Frilly picks up the paper without hesitation and takes it with her to the podium. "And the lucky mare is..." She opens up the carefully folded slip and reads the name on it over and over in her head before announcing it. "Maple Leaf!"
GoodbyesI feel like somepony just hit me hard in the chest, and I can't move or breathe. Why? Why me? What did I do to deserve this? It's not like my name being chosen was impossible, but it was definitely unlikely! "Maple Leaf," Frilly Lace says again, sealing my fate. "Maple Leaf, whoever you are, please come up and introduce yourself!" As the crowd parts, some of them knowing who I am, I can't help but be disgusted by Frilly Lace. How can she be upbeat and excitable when she's sending fillies and colts to be slaughtered? Doesn't she have any sense of compassion? "Ahem, would the filly named Maple Leaf come on up to the stage," she snorts, starting to get annoyed. I feel my hooves starting to move, one slow step in front of another. I climb the stairs and stand on the stage, looking out at the crowd of thousands. The only sound I hear is the wind whistling through the air. No volunteers. Nopony ever volunteers in District 12. The eyes of the thousands of ponies bore into me, judging me, probably assuming I'll be one of the first to die. I see Treetop all the way in the back. I can't make out his expression from here, but I know that he's devastated. No, worse than devastated. He's going through his own personal nightmare right now. Whatever I'm feeling, he's feeling a thousand times worse. "Alright everypony, let's give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!" Frilly squeals, and the ponies all slowly clap, not taking their eyes off of me. Nopony really knows me. Nopony is going to grieve for me. Except my brother. He'll be all alone now... Just then, Appleseed, District 12's only surviving victor, comes galloping onto the stage. He's late, as always. He has a white coat and a dark brown mane streaked with red. His cutie mark is missing; his flank was mangled in the Games. "Sorry I'm late," Appleseed whispers rather loudly to the mayor and Frilly Lace. The former nods in forgiveness, but the latter just gives out a little "Hmph!" Then, Appleseed gazes at me. He's staring at me now, but not into my eyes. More like he's staring at my mane...at my horn. Oh, no...did I not do a good enough job at hiding it? I raise my hoof to touch my mane, but Appleseed gives an almost imperceptible shake of his head. I guess nopony can see my horn...but how can he? Frilly Lace's obnoxious voice pierces my thoughts. "Now it's time to choose a colt tribute!" She walks from the podium to the glass ball with the stallions' names. I don't really care who gets picked. The only stallion I care for is Treetop, and he's too old for his name to be in. Frilly picks out a name. That's weird...she took a much shorter time picking a colt than a filly. I'm probably just imagining it, though. "And our colt tribute for the nine hundred ninety-ninth Equestria Games is...Pokeweed!" I scan the crowd and find one colt who's walking forward, shock and despair written all over his face. As he scales the steps and stands next to me, I get a better look at him. He's a twelve-year-old, without a doubt. In fact, he looks younger than twelve. Pokeweed is a small, skinny pegasus with a green coat and a short, black-and-magenta mane, and doesn't even have his cutie mark yet. He's trembling in fear, and I can see tears pour out of his big, emerald eyes. I've changed my mind...I do care who gets picked. I'm threatening to tear up, too. But I force myself not to cry. There are cameras everywhere, and if the millions of ponies watching this right now see me break down, then they'll think I'm weak and helpless. Then nopony will bet sponsor money on me. So I harden my features into an indifferent mask. But on the inside, I'm weeping. "Go on, you two. Shake hooves!" Frilly says with a huge smile. I've decided that I don't like her. I offer my hoof tentatively toward Pokeweed, and he shakes it, sobs racking his puny frame. He probably has a family, has friends that'll mourn for him...No. I have to stop thinking like that. If I want to stand a chance at winning the Equestria Games--hypothetically, I'm not exactly feeling very confident--then Pokeweed will have to die. There's no way around it. There can only be one winner of the Equestria Games. The Equestria anthem plays. I can't stand the anthem. It spouts stuff like, "fulfilling your destiny" and "you've come such a long, long way." It's sung by President Celestia, who has a seductive, almost hypnotic voice. I swear that anthem is brain-washing the citizens of the districts. As soon as the anthem ends, a large group of white-armored Peacekeepers escorts us to the Justice Building, an old, creaky wooden tower. It used to be the city hall of Ponyville centuries ago. Did I say "escort?" I meant that they ushered us harshly and quickly across town, not hesitating to whack us with their batons if we slowed down. I'm forced into a large room, and the door is slammed shut behind me. This is the time where I'll get to say good-bye to my loved ones...I can't cry. I can't cry. I can't cry. I sit down on one of the plush benches in the room, running my hooves repeatedly over the soft fabric to calm myself. The door opens a crack. I brace myself for the wave of despair I'll feel when seeing my brother, but I'm surprised when two ponies, a mare and a stallion whom I don't recognize walk in. No...I do know them. Those are the ponies who run the apothecary in District 12. I've heard rumors that they go out into the Everfree Forest every day to gather the herbs they use to make their medicines. I've never been into the Everfree, although Treetop has gone on occasion. It's not as if you can't get into the forest; the chain-link fence is harmless and riddled with holes that make it easy to sneak in and out. But the monsters that lurk in that forest scare everypony away, including me. The mare is a pegasus with a brown coat and a black-and-magenta mane, and emerald eyes. The stallion has a pea-green coat and a darker green mane. I don't know why I care about their appearance, but then it strikes me: They must be Pokeweed's parents. Why are they visiting me? Shouldn't they be seeing their son? The stallion clears his throat. "Hello...Maple Leaf, was it?" I nod. "I...I'm sorry to trouble you like this. I understand that you must have other ponies you want to see," he says. His wife isn't saying a word; she's too busy sobbing into a handkerchief. "It's fine," I murmur. The two of them step over to my bench. "...Mind if we sit down?" "Whatever floats your boat," I sigh. The stallion and the mare sit down next to me. "I'm sorry for not introducing myself. My name is Evergreen, and this is my wife Sparrow Wing. Our son...is Pokeweed." Evergreen ducks his head, and I spot a couple tears drop out of his eyes, staining the fancy carpet. "I can tell," I say dismissively. I hate sounding so indifferent, but if I have to choose between teary eyes and apathy, I'd always take the latter. Evergreen nods slowly. "Well...um, we hate to ask you this, and we understand that you'll probably refuse--" "Please protect our son!" Sparrow Wing interrupts, raising her head so that her tear-stained, green eyes are on level with mine. "Protect your son?" I repeat in disbelief. "No...well, I mean, sort of," Evergreen stammers. "Pokeweed is convinced that he's going to die. He told us this morning that he'd never stand a chance in the Games. We want you to, erm, make sure he stays safe. Ally with him, I guess." I feel a knot of guilt form in my chest as I speak my next words, "I'm sorry, but I can't assure your son's safety." "W-we know. We knew you would say that," Evergreen whispers. He stands up to leave, but his wife stops him. Sparrow Wing comes over and gets in my face. "Please help him. He needs comfort from somepony, and we won't be there for him anymore." I find myself glaring at her. "What's in it for me? Why should I be tethered to a helpless twelve-year-old?" Sparrow and her husband wince, and the knot of guilt only tightens more. I'm beginning to worry that this aloof cover is replacing my true personality. Sparrow smiles a bit. "Our son ventures into the Everfree Forest by himself everyday. He knows what plants are edible or not, how to start a fire, and even how to ward off monsters. He'll be a huge help to you if you ally with him." I feel my jaw hanging open, and I quickly close it. "I'll consider helping him," I say deliberately. "Thank you...thank you so much," Evergreen says, wiping tears from his eyes. And with that, Evergreen and Sparrow exit the room, leaving me feeling shameful and excited at the same time. Pokeweed could be a huge help to me, but I don't think I can cope with the responsibility of watching over somepony. The door opens again, and as soon as Treetop walks in, I gallop up to him and give him the biggest hug I've ever given anypony in my whole life. "Whoa, there, Firespell," he says, still trying to seem happy for my sake. But I can tell from his red, puffy eyes that he's been crying. "I swear...you're just calling me 'Firespell' to spite me now," I giggle, feeling oddly giddy. Well, why not? Just like being cold before, it's either this or crying. "You seem upbeat," Treetop cracks. "Trust me, I'm not. I'm gonna die." "You're not gonna die." "Yes, I am." "You're not." "Am." "Not." "Am!" "Not!" "Am!" We both smile at each other weakly. We're arguing just like normal siblings would. Like we would before our parents died. After they were gone, we stopped fighting and became inseparable. "You're gonna be fine, Sis," Treetop says, reaching out with his strong hooves and swinging me on top of his back, just like he would when I was a filly. I nestle my head into his thick, green curls, inhaling the fresh, piney smell he's contracted from years of working on the apple orchards. This will probably be the last time I can be with him. "Be serious, Treetop," I sigh. "I can't win this. Just promise that you'll live on without me, okay?" "I promise," he says sincerely. "But don't count yourself out," he pats me on the head, his hoof brushing against my horn. My magic. "You know that's illegal," I whisper, keeping my voice as quiet as possible. This room is probably bugged. "Even if I win, they'll just execute me." Or execute you, I think. Treetop takes a deep breath, and I can tell he's holding back tears. I feel a rush of gratefulness. If he cries, I'll be sure to cry as well. This is why Treetop is such a great brother: he always understands me and my motives. "Just try, Firespell. You have to try," he says, his voice strained. "I promised that I'd live on without you, but you have to promise me that you'll try." "Of course." I embrace him once more, taking these last few moments we have to feel my brother, to be with him, two perfect puzzle pieces fitting together. The Peacekeepers are here again. "Get out," they command Treetop. "Just hold on," Treetop growls. In response, the Peacekeepers grab him. "I love you!" I howl. "I love you, too!" he returns, giving me a half-smile as they drag him outside, the door slamming shut behind them. I've never felt so lonely.
