Dixie

"So, uh...why are we doing this again?"

Kicking over an empty crate next to her, Sweetie Belle could only stare into yet another, freshly excavated mess. All this trash didn't speak to her in any way. Neither physical, nor spiritual. And whatever it was they were trying to accomplish, she didn't see it go forward in any way. And she certainly didn't enjoy it, no matter what she'd been promised earlier.

"Ah told ya, this was the perfect plan!" Apple Bloom nevertheless chanted from behind, her voice more motivated than both her friends' moods combined. "We could get our cutie marks in literally everything, so we'll just go to a place that has literally everything. We're sure ta find out about our destiny this way."

Sweetie Belle frowned. "Yeah, I get it. Probably just don't see how your family's attic qualifies for having literally everything."

"Well, if you ask me...I'm not sure we'll find anything exactly useful up here," Scootaloo said, adding her part to the conversation. "'Cept maybe getting the heaviest hayfever in forever from the sticky air in this place. I don't think I wanna be marked as allergic for the rest of my life. I mean, have you even seen what some of those pollen trees can do to ponies?"

"We could always get out on the orchard, and try some apple bucking. More of a classic approach. Y'know, since we're already here, and all," Sweetie Belle tried to convince her farmer friend. "Your family all seem to be quite happy with it."

"Buckin' apples?" the earth pony filly replied. "Ah don't see how that's s'posed ta make me feel special...it's like everyone around myself already keeps doin' that. Like Applejack does have her apple-related cutie mark, and Big Mac...heck, even Granny Smith has sumthin' apple related back there." She pointed to her flank, which was still devoid of any kind of colorful picture.

"Yeah, you'd fit right in," Scootaloo answered with a sarcastic grin. Turning to Sweetie Belle, she added, "Still, we could always try other fruits or vegetables. You know, like, squishing grapes or...squeezing lemons, or..."

"...smashing pumpkins...", Sweetie Belle added, while rolling her eyes.

"Of course! A smashing pumpkins cutie mark. Heh, could you imagine?" the pegasus filly chuckled at the thought. Simultaneously, her two friends simply deadpanned, unsure what to do with this information.

"Ah'd rather not," Apple Bloom stated. "Havin' all year off but Nightmare Night seems kinda nice, but...also pretty boring. An' y'all don't see nopony smashing any pumpkins any other time than that, right?"

"I guess you have a point," Sweetie Belle hesitantly confirmed her, upon turning back around to face another crate. "Also, what's in that one? It seems kinda fancy."

It did, indeed. Turning around to face her discovery, the remaining two crusaders quickly spotted what she meant. A large oaken box stood before them, about three feet wide and a good one-and-a-half feet tall. It's edges were all fixated with steel hardware, holding the massive construct together. Judging from the rusty nails inside those metal bars, they seemed to have been nailed into the wooden surface decades ago.

Had there once been a lock attached, it certainly wasn't there now. Whether it simply rusted away in time, or someone forcefully removed it somehow, there was no way the three could still tell at this point. Time had truly taken its toll upon the chest's every feature. Even Scootaloo let out an impressed whistling, seeing what stood before her.

"That looks pretty cool," she remarked, before turning to Apple Bloom with excitement. "Can we open it?"

"Ah s'pose so," the filly answered. "Doesn't seem locked or anything. Or restricted for that matter."

Before finishing her thought, a light green aura had already begun to flicker around their unicorn friend's horn. Within a few seconds, a similar appearance expanded over the lid, before it slowly creaked open. When finally the entire wooden crate stood wide open, Sweetie Belle panted in exhaustion for a few seconds, sweat forming on her brow. "Wow," she said. "This thing's heavier than it looks, I give you that."

All the more curious, the crusaders leaned forward. Apart from the mess of all sorts of unidentifiable objects within the main box, there also was a black inscription printed on the inside of the lid. Years had come and passed, making it barely legible by now, but -

"Ain't that some fancy talk?" Apple Bloom burst out upon trying to read the small, cursive letters. Her eyes narrowed in distrust at the sight. Considering her earlier experiences with that particular language, a certain sense of doubt was hardly a surprise, coming from her.

"It's not that, stupid," Sweetie Belle scolded her. "It looks pretty fancy, though. As in, y'know, highly fashionable, and all that. Like those cursive writings ponies used a few centuries ago. Rarity told me about those...and how to read them. I guess I can give it a try."

"Well, go on then. What's it say?" Scootaloo asked, shivering with anticipation. Her sense of adventure had become wide awake, ever since discovering the strange object, and its potentially mysterious past.

Sweetie Belle narrowed her eyes. "Ugh. It's pretty dark in here...but I'll do my best."

"Can't ya light it up with this little trick y'all do with her horns?"

"Sorry, Apple Bloom," she answered with a frown. "Illumination magic hasn't come up in my studies, yet. I...might have to ask Twilight about that later. Uh, let's see, anyway." She began to read with some stumbling. "That first one's a 'P', I'd say. So...P-Pro-Prop...ah, property. Property of, uh...I guess that one means Apple. Apple...Forrest. Yeah, probably. And there's even a time and date. Or at least, I think that's what it is. Says Dodge Junction, the year is..."

She raised an eyebrow. "eight-six, I...really can't make out the last number. I guess it's eight-hundred and sixty...something. And Apple Forrest was probably one of your ancestors, or something."

"Eight-hundred?" Scootaloo's eyes widened in amazement. "Like, they start counting from the banishment of Nightmare Moon, right? And it's already been over a thousand years today, so..." she gasped, pointing at the box. "That thing must've been here for a good hundred and fifty years or so!"

The three fillies fell into a stunned silence for a few moments. Only after a while did they look at each other with growing grins on their muzzles. "Are y'all thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

And with a battle cry that would've made any buffalo chief proud, they leaped towards their newest discovery, eager to plunder each and every one of the treasures it had to offer. All thoughts about getting their cutie marks on some dusty attic were quickly forgotten, replaced by something far more interesting to any young child's mindset.

Bright sunlight fell into the Apple family's kitchen window, illuminating the magnificent sight that was Sweet Apple Acres. Outside, hundreds of strong and healthy apple trees were carrying thousands of light green apples, supposedly of similar quality. Only another month or so, and most of them would be ready for harvest. A truly impressive time of the year.

Applejack smiled at the sight. The place really had expanded quite a lot since she'd been a filly. Another successful harvesting season would make for another year of hard work for her to be proud of. Hard physical work, of course. And exhausting, at that. But she wouldn't want to have it any other way. Getting rewarded with the beautiful sight brought to her now was all she could ever really ask for. All by itself, this was what she was supposed to be doing. What made her happy.

Turning her back to the window, she glanced back towards her brother. Big Macintosh was peacefully seated at the table, devouring his third pancake in five minutes. With every other pony, Applejack would have deemed it unhealthy, but she knew her brother better than that by now. Hard work always made him hungry. And through all his modesty, Big Mac could probably gulp down more than half a ton of these per day...given he'd feel comfortable about it.

"Enjoyin' yer meal, ah take it?" A smug grin across her muzzle, Applejack approached the table. But now, with the sight of the orchard out of her mind for a second, her thoughts soon wandered to something else regarding her situation. Something, that even a satisfied "Eeyup" from Big Mac couldn't distract her from.

Sweet Apple Acres, including their farmhouse and barn, was rather peaceful at this time of day. And excessively quiet. Too quiet, given the three lively fillies currently 'cleaning' up the attic. They had volunteered to do so just yesterday afternoon and, against her better judgment, Applejack had agreed to 'whatever made her sister happy'. She was positively surprised not to have a tornado dismantle the building by now. Or an ursa major. Or a pack of timberwolves. Or the divine wrath of nature herself, brought down on the farm in a million blistering blazes...she felt like abandoning that train of though rather quickly.

"Wonder what those three are up to back there," she mumbled, one hoof pointing up. "Haven't cleaned out the place in ages, either. Ah think quite a lot of that trash's been part of our family before we even moved here. No idea what's gonna happen next..."

"You need ta calm yerself down," Big Mac replied in his usually dull voice, not taking an eye off his meal. "T'aint nothin' up there anypony could possibly..."

He didn't get very far, when suddenly a loud, blasting sound made the entire room vibrate. Though initially uncertain of its origin, and admittedly a little shocked, Applejack quickly managed to figure out the details. Whatever that was, it clearly came from somewhere upstairs. Also, it sounded like...a marching band?

The two earth ponies had hardly a second to discuss, just enough to exchange nervous glances, when a deep male voice started accompanying the music:

Hurrah! Hurrah!

For southern rights, Hurrah!

Hurrah for the Bonnie Blue Flag

that bears an apple mark!

The lyrics repeated themselves once, then cut to a stanza of some more text. All of which was more than morally questionable. Applejack needed a moment until the gears in her brain connected, but she eventually figured it out. This 'song' sounded like one of those things that generation of apples would come up with. The one they didn't talk about too much, since it easily cast an extremely repulsive light on their entire clan.

Eventually grasping the association, Applejack's eyes went wide in shock. A thousand questions spun around in her mind, first of all the one: How did they even get to that? Also, if Granny Smith would be disturbed in her regular naptime...woken up by this...Applejack would rather not imagine. She could only tell the entire furies of Tartarus business she feared just minutes ago didn't seem so far away, all of a sudden.

Big Mac didn't seem to share much of her fears, anyhow. He was too busy chocking on crumbs of pancakes, while longing for a glass of water.

Ignoring her brother as one of the lesser priorities now, Applejack leaped to the door, and raced up the stairs. He would be able to take care of himself. He always did. Once upstairs, she raced along the corridor as fast as her four hooves would carry her. Smashing open the door to her little sister's room, she let out a reaction much more aggressive than she'd planned to do.

"STOP THAT THIS INSTANT, YA LIL'...whoa, what?"

She stared at three confused faces in shock, and they stared back. When sending the crusaders up to the attic, this had been the least of Applejack's worries. But now, she could hardly believe her own two eyes. This was not good. Not good at all.

The music originated from their old gramophone, which the crusaders had somehow managed to sneak into her sister's room. Some old record was happily playing away on it, until a sudden spark from Sweetie Belle's horn caused its spinning to stop. The room fell dead silent in an instant. And Applejack still found no words.

Somehow, the three rascals had fixated a piece of tapestry on the wall above the phonograph. No, not that...it was more like a banner, or a flag. And it displayed exactly what the poor mare had feared: A x-shaped, blue cross with a thin, white frame in front of a scarlet background. A total number of thirteen white apples embroidered the navy blue part. Adding up to the whole scenery, the three kids in front of her had spread several pairs of uniforms on the ground. They were made up from a light-gray jacket and an oddly shaped hat of the same shade. A brass symbol of two crossed sabres was embroidered on the front of each of the latter.

Applejack facehoofed. "Ah know ah shouldn't have trusted y'all..."

"What's wrong, sis?" an innocent looking Apple Bloom asked, looking up at her in surprise. "We jest found these old things in an old box up there..."

"Yeah, from some dude named Apple Forrest, apparently," Scootaloo added, fidgeting with her wings. "Looks pretty cool...and old, I guess. Like those jackets Daring Do keeps wearing. Only the ones you got here weren't exactly for pegasi, I think. I tried to put one on, and it totally didn't fit...especially with the wings and all..."

Apple Forrest. Oh, sweet Celestia...

But of course, Apple Bloom wouldn't know. They never talked to her about the more difficult part of their family's history...yet. She'd be too young to understand it. Or at least, that's what Applejack kept telling herself. As of now, there probably wasn't any way around it. Still unsure about how to handle the situation, Applejack let out a nervous chuckle.

"Now, come on, y'all. Ah don't think those things belong to you, right? We better just get them back to where you found them, before we put any damage to them by accident..."

"Applejack?" A raspy, elder voice called to them from outside. "Whut in the hay's going on over there?"

Within an instant, Applejack's eyes went almost as wide as saucers. She needed a good explanation, and she needed it now. Granny Smith wouldn't be happy about this, and if it looked like she herself was somehow a part of all this...that would only make it worse.

"Nothin'!" the orange mare thus called out. "Nothin'...at all. Got everything safe and sound by myself...don't you worry..." Under her breath she added, hissing: "You better get them things outta sight real quick. And get all this back ta where y'all found it, soon as ah've dealt with this. I don't care if y'all shove it under the bed or whatnot, jest do it! Ya hear?"

The fillies still didn't seem to understand, but nodded and complied with her orders, nevertheless. They hastily began putting everything away neatly, not without some confused murmuring, while Applejack stepped back out of the hall. She tried her best to look confident.

Stepping out of Apple Bloom's room, she immediately found herself face to face with a very mistrustful looking Granny Smith. The older mare had her eyes narrowed in suspicion, even now. Staring right into those of her grandmohter sent another jolt down Applejack's spine.

"You hear all that?" she asked. "I just got woken up by sum dang hell of a noise. You better have some explanation for all this!"

"I - uh - sure..." she stuttered. "Listen, ah'm sorry. These three rascals wanted to clean the attic, and made a total mess o' th' place...as usual. Nothin' ta git any...more...suspicious about. And...Ah'll clean it back up, later on, that alright...with ya?"

Granny Smith continued to stare at her face for another minute or so, her eyes obviously determined to scan the young mare's face for any sign of guilt. And she probably wouldn't have to look for very long. Applejack already felt the sweat run down her face.

Suddenly, the light-green mare broke into a knowing grin. "You've always been a bad liar, Applejack," she replied, jokingly. With a wink, she added, turning back around, "Some time, I'm gonna hear an explanation for all this, you hear."

"Sure...", Applejack replied with a panicking grin. "Jest...don't mind it. Ah've got it all under control..."

"That's certainly a relief ta my old ears," Granny Smith called out, just before disappearing back in her room. Applejack let out one long, deep breath of relief.

Now, to explain all this to the little ones...