Prologue- The Burning of the Farm
Me and Applejack first heard the news when we were closing up the apple stand. A bunch of pony bandits had attacked Appaloosa. The crops were trampled and burned. A lot of townspeople were murdered. It didn't really hit home with us at the time. You hear a lot about the lawlessness of the West over the years. It wasn't two days later when we received a letter. Applejack was the first to open and read it; Braeburn's body was found outside the town riddled with bullet holes. Heroic stories were told. Someponies say that he died protecting the fillies from the bandits, others say that he was shot trying to put out the fire, and others still say he took out about fifteen of the outlaws before being shot and killed himself. Whatever the story, me and Applejack felt that we needed to go to his funeral.
Arriving in Appaloosa by train, we quickly saw the damage. Soot was all over the buildings. We followed the other ponies to the funeral. Braeburn had wanted to be buried in the orchard so that he could still watch over the crops, and me and Applejack obliged. Marking the grave site with a simple stone, we joined the crowd as the preacher gave his sermon. I cried inwardly. I couldn't openly cry because Applejack needed me to be strong. She needed someone to lean on, and I let her lean on me.
We slept fitfully on the train ride home that evening. Didn't seem to take much time before we arrived back in Ponyville. On the way back to the farm we were passed by some pegasus ponies. Feeling worried, we climbed to the top of the last hill and looked at the scene below in disbelief. A fire had been roaring on the top floor, but was quenched by a torrential downpour of rain. Off in the distance, I could just barely make out the shapes of ponies riding off into the West. Applebloom and Granny Smith were nowhere in sight. We plunged into the wreckage. Applejack started searching the rooms for signs of Granny Smith and Applebloom.
I knew what I had to do. I went to my room and nudged a button that was hidden behind my bed. A slot on the floor opened, revealing my secret hiding spot. It had been a long time since these were needed. I slipped on my six-shooter saddle and pulled my poncho down over it. I pulled on my cowpony hat, and pinned my badge to the inside pocket of my poncho. The West was calling. It needed me once more. I was halfway down the path when Applejack called out to me from the doorway.
"Big Mac, ya can't be thinkin' 'bout leavin, not now when we need yer strength. Ya gave up that life, Big Mac! Ya said you'd never go back there!"
"The West needs me, sis." I said. "A debt collector called, and it's time to pay my dues."
Without another word, I continued walking. The West was calling my name once again, and it felt good to be back on the trail. The West needed a hero, someone they could rely on in times of danger. The West needed a marshall, to bring law and order into its wastes. The West needed me.
