When the Sun Sets

Being optimistic about the future deserved a slap across the face, at least according to Fleetfoot. Listening to the wind whipping across the sky prodded her ears after a few minutes; the noises typically lasted a while. The sights outdid anything the sounds could produce, however. Ponyville was surrounded by black, vine-like creatures with vicious maws all waiting to slip inside. Fleetfoot dreaded to hypothesize what the world beyond the horizon endured, her spine freezing whenever the thought arrived.

And to think a vacancy in Canterlot's government started such trends; Princess Celestia just vanished one day, and nopony knew how to fix the new crop of problems. The other princesses could only scratch their heads before problems plunged into their lives, just so fate could reassure Fleetfoot amid the hysteria of longer and longer nights.

Hysteria, fitting it'd rhyme with Equestria, monster attacks transforming from a rarity to a weekly occurrence. Nowadays, most ponies batted an eye whenever a hydra stomped past a town or two. He and his fellow creatures were just tall tourists, though Fleetfoot saw them as the pushy, arrogant kind of tourist.

Leaping onto the bed, its springs squeaking like famished mice, Fleetfoot allowed her body to sink into the cushions. She grasped the newspaper atop the counter. Unfurling it, the paper already decorated with a bit of grime from her abode, all the headlines reported the same news ad nauseam. Life without Celestia, who could save Equestria, whether the chaos could be stopped, and if Discord was to blame for all of it were what clogged the newspaper.

"I know, I don't know, no, and maybe," Fleetfoot muttered. Those were almost always the first words to greet the day; whining about who woke her up early was the exception to the rule. She thrust the newspaper across the bedroom, the sheets fluttering onto the floor. "I'd fix all of this if I could, but I can't. I'm still waiting for my moment, but it'll never come." She rubbed her eyes. An itch covered the back of her head; Fleetfoot cringed. "Great. I'm turning into a whiny brat, aren't I?"

Just then, a trio of knocks polluted the air, Fleetfoot pushing herself onto all four hooves.

"Is Negative Nancy here?" a familiar voice called out. "Because Raindrops has a special delivery!"

Fleetfoot rolled her eyes. "Of course!" Each week saw Raindrops come to visit her in the morning; the conversations had all run their course, though a part of her couldn't turn her away. "You know the door is open a few minutes after I get up!"

The door creaked open, a yellow pegasus trotting in with a bright smile across her face. She meandered around the pale furniture, her eyes watering as she sniffled. With her was a white bag, a mouthwatering aroma soon tickling Fleetfoot's nostrils.

"I got ya breakfast for the big day," Raindrops said. "Just some scones I managed to put together with what we had. Let me tell you, getting the berries and the baking powder was a pain, but at least the rest was easy to come by." Plopping the bag onto the nearest table, Raindrops approached Fleetfoot and nudged her shoulder. "What do we say when somepony gives us something nice?"

"Thank you, Raindrops."

Raindrops clapped her hooves together, her smile bright. "You're welcome!"

Fleetfoot opened up the bag, procuring the plastic utensils and the fresh food. "You must already know about my turn for gathering resources, right?"

Raindrops nodded. "Yep."

"I don't know why East Cloudsdale still bothers with that." Fleetfoot sighed. "Only one or two of them come up with enough crap that's useful for a place as big as this."

"And those two did become famous, you know." Raindrops winked. "And you were somepony famous during Celestia's time, remember?"

"Again with that reminder." Groaning, Fleetfoot pressed her hooves on the table, its surface chilling her forelegs. Said reminder, the Wonderbolts she was once a part of, still occupied a role. However, they merely symbolized what one could do with their fifteen minutes of fame. "But I do remember."

"Uh, those moments were good for the most part." Raindrops raised an eyebrow. "Okay, maybe there were moments where you messed up a stunt, wronged somepony due to some crazy stuff, nearly died to some big guy, and placed the blame on somepony without thinking it through." She caught her breath. "But we all have our moments, right?"

Fleetfoot's shoulders drooped. "Good job, genius. You made it worse."

"Oh." Raindrops paused for a few seconds. "But at least it wasn't all bad, right? After all, I bet some townsponies think you're amazing."

"I don't know. I think my fellow townsponies might be glad to see me scram."

In the blink of an eye, Raindrops extended her foreleg out. She then massaged Fleetfoot's back. "Well, your grouchy attitude kinda turns some ponies away from you. Like, moping around all the time isn't going to earn you lots of friends, you know. Sympathy? Debatable. Friends? Not so much. And friendship is—"

"I know how you're going to finish that, and it's wrong." Fleetfoot exhaled. "Destiny is the strongest magic. Why else do you think a friend of mine hit a snag and fell into a deep depression?" Her name was on the tip of Fleetfoot's tongue, though her mind swatted the thought away. "And why is it that we can only taste the wonders of achieving a group effort while in a dream?"

"I—I don't know." Raindrops stood up; she ruffled her wings. "Maybe it's just because being the hero is hard. Maybe that's why so many ponies dream of being one."

Fleetfoot peered out of the window, the sunlight becoming harsher. "Well, I may as well eat breakfast and head over to the town's border."

"Okay." As she trotted away, Raindrops waved her hoof. "I hope you return with lots of good stuff." She froze in place and then straightened her posture. "And one more thing."

"What is it?"

"Wear as much warm clothing as you can."

Crossing her forelegs, Fleetfoot peered into Raindrops' eyes. "I'm wearing a scarf when I leave. That will do."

Raindrops' pupils shrunk; her eyes widened. "A scarf?" Her jaw dropped for a moment. "B-but you need more than just a scarf!"

With a soft groan, Fleetfoot then placed a hoof to her cheek. "Fine, I'll wear my boots."

"I know you have one more—"

"I don't." Fleetfoot shook her head, blushing. "That's all I've got when it comes to keeping warm."

"Aren't you—" Raindrops arched an eyebrow; she smirked "—forgetting something? Something wonderful, if you know what I mean." She winked, then forced a soft chuckle.

Shuddering, Fleetfoot nodded. "Okay! I'll wear that—thing as well. Happy?" There was no point in even trying to argue with Raindrops. Everypony knew she was as persistent as Fleetfoot was pessimistic.

"Good." With a quick bow, Raindrops then waved to Fleetfoot, a smile adorning the latter's face. "I hope to see you later."

Fleetfoot waved back to Raindrops. "Same here." When Raindrops exited the dusty abode, the door slamming shut, Fleetfoot mustered a quick sigh. "I know where this is going. There's going to be more cheers about me leaving than for me going on an important mission. Serves the jerk right, I guess."

The missing tension in the air coupled with the cheerier than usual voices outside prodded her. Anypony would normally see this as a good thing, wondering if optimism was born anew.

However, Fleetfoot wasn't anypony.

Was she just nervous about it being her up for the job?

Fleetfoot shook her head. "I better be lucky for once; just once I could find something big and succeed when it mattered most. Maybe I'll get some respect that way." Glancing at the petite clock on the counter, Fleetfoot read a time of ten past eight in the morning. Fifty minutes later, she'd be clad in clothing and being waved goodbye, the thought of ever returning home crossing her mind.

Hopefully, it'd all be over quickly.

With Fleetfoot finding herself isolated once more, she filled her stomach with the breakfast Raindrops delivered. The two scones were only half the size of hockey pucks, but the warm and soft textures earned a smile. Licking her lips to pick up every last crumb, Fleetfoot then meandered toward the front door. She shivered; a white mist already departed her nostrils. A few muffled voices outside gossiped about those assigned to trek the mountain, Fleetfoot's ears twitching whenever her name was dropped.

"Clear Skies, Tornado Twist, and Fleetfoot are the ponies being sent, right?" a distant, unrecognizable voice asked. "At least I know I'm not being assigned to go there."

As expected, her name carried a different, edgier tone than the other names. With sagging shoulders, Fleetfoot could then only muster a sigh.

"Yeah," another voice replied. "I don't see many of them coming back with anything big—or maybe even coming back. Do you know how big that mountain is?"

"It's big. Well, I hope Clear Skies is at least able to find what we're looking for."

Fleetfoot bit her tongue. For once, she yearned to become a hermit instead; anything seemed preferable to a dangerous voyage without the excitement.

At least somepony would be waiting for her to return.

Hours rocketed past Fleetfoot, then slowed to a crawl once more as she now found herself amid a sea of snow, a few crags and rocks jutting out of the blanket as though they tried to escape.

It seemed as though mere seconds passed by when she set out on her assignment.

The parting and the first steps of the journey just happened, nothing noteworthy catching her eye or reaching her ears. A few quick phrases and glances were all she recalled as Fleetfoot trudged through piles of thick snow. Much to her dismay, however, no signs of resources propped up during the hour or so she'd been trekking. Such was the only shred of normalcy she'd experienced in the past few years.

In Equestria, oddities just happened. They were the norm for as long as there was earth.

Collect minerals and fruit. A simple task on paper, though anypony who survived the ordeal would turn pale by merely alluding to it. Most of those who returned home had their bags filled with a few ores, some fruit native to the region, and a few other essentials. However, the quantity of such goods would be lacking for even the smallest of building projects.

At least she wasn't stuck in Ponyville with those vines. Fleetfoot's mind drew blanks as to why they returned. But if recent history had a word, especially history involving the mare named Twilight Sparkle, it was to not question oddities.

Clenching her teeth, Fleetfoot ascended up the mountain. A gust of wind swirled past her and kept her hooves planted to the ground. Specks of snow pecked her muzzle; the environment was merely a howling, white abyss. Changing the weather was futile as well. Any recent attempts to do so only saw the storms snap back into place as if nothing had happened.

However, Fleetfoot knew she'd prove the naysayers wrong about failing to come back with anything meaningful. Her tall, black boots helped warm her body, as did her aquamarine scarf and her Wonderbolts uniform. While she wished the third of these would stay huddled up in her closet, the specifics forcibly blocked from her memories, it proved too useful.

Annoyingly useful was how she saw it. A groan left her mouth, some bits of snow tickling her tongue.

A shuffling sound split the air; Fleetfoot shuddered in surprise.

"Is that w-what I think it is?" she asked herself, struggling to catch her breath. "Please tell m-me it is."

Fleetfoot scurried over to the sound's source. Panting, she stretched her hoof toward the sparkling surface, the bumped texture covered by a thin layer of snow. Bringing her eyes closer to the object, she blinked thrice, massaging the rock as though it was visiting a spa. With another blink, followed by a deep breath, Fleetfoot noted the sapphire-like figments glowing on the stone.

"That's the one," she murmured.

Gripping onto the stone, Fleetfoot tried pulling it upward, grunts escaping her mouth. However, despite exhausting every last drop of strength, the stone failed to budge an inch. Fleetfoot collapsed against the snow; a sickening thud echoed in the air.

"Stupid rock," she whispered. "Why won't you move?"

Fleetfoot refused to be seen as weak. Weak was something she wished would release its grip on her; her balanced diet and exercises designed to break the body ensured this. Sure, she couldn't hold a candle to the feats some ponies boasted about, but she could count on doing what anypony could do and a tad more.

So why was moving a rock impossible? Was the mountain already having its way with her?

"No." Fleetfoot shook her head, slowly propping herself back up. A gust of wind thrashed about, her mane flipping all over the place. "I'm not dealing with that crap."

She wiped her hoof across the snow, whiteness giving way to reveal an array of graphite and sapphire colors.

"Huh?" Fleetfoot arched an eyebrow. Anypony could tell her Blue Brilliance only came in bite-sized chunks. "Something's not right here."

With another swipe across the snow-covered mountain, more Blue Brilliance revealed itself. All of it was a part of one mass as before, seemingly growing the more Fleetfoot analyzed it.

"Is this some sick joke?" Fleetfoot stomped across the precious stone; a deep scowl was emblazoned on her visage. Hundreds of sharp voices swirled in her mind. Her cheeks reddened, eyes shimmering. "Let me guess, this kind of rock is for somepony superior. Somepony else would hoist it up and be crowed the Queen of Equestria, right?"

Fleetfoot resumed her climb; her legs wobbled like jelly. The wind's whistling picked up, Fleetfoot wishing she could grab wind by the neck and order it to shut up. And the snow became deeper for every hoofstep she took. Freezing to death seemed like a possibility if it wasn't for her clothing.

Minutes passed by in a flash, a square silhouette looming in the distance at last. Fleetfoot forced a slight smirk. Pounding the snow with each step, the figure metamorphosed into a small cottage. The wooden logs supporting it were all chipped; snow relentlessly attacked its surface. And the roof wore a snowy blanket.

"What's a cottage doing all the way up here?" Fleetfoot whispered. She tilted her head a tad. "It's not like a village or a vacation spot is nearby."

After all, nopony would live in such a bland, isolated home; the uneven snow looming from behind tightened Fleetfoot's throat by its mere presence. Nevertheless, she noticed candlelight flickering from within. A mare's shadow came into view, her back somewhat hunched and wings opened up. Her curly mane even looked familiar.

Fleetfoot's pupils shrunk. She knew who resided within the cottage. Taking a deep breath, she crawled over to the front door; the snowstorm battering her around. With every bit of strength bundled inside her foreleg, Fleetfoot knocked on the door.

At least it wasn't an illusion. Fleetfoot wiped her brow; a sigh of relief escaped her lips.

"Is that a visitor?" the homeowner asked. "I-I hope she isn't a meanie."

Fleetfoot gulped. She knew such a mild voice could belong to only one mare.

Fluttershy.

A click reached Fleetfoot's ear, followed by a short pause. The door opened up seconds later; Fleetfoot shimmied through the small gap and into the room, crashing down onto the green carpet. Huffing and puffing, she closed her eyes and allowed her muscles to loosen. The homeowner could've been Queen Chrysalis for all she knew, but even she'd be just tolerable enough to where Fleetfoot wouldn't rip her mane out. The crisp, warm air and the crackling fireplace outweighed the rest.

And she grinned by just thinking about it. Maybe it wouldn't be so abysmal after all.

"Fleetfoot? What are you doing here?" Fluttershy asked. "Are you okay?"

"I am," Fleetfoot replied. "Though why you'd give a damn about me after all I've done is kinda hard to stomach."

"Um, everypony makes mistakes."

"I and a few others seem to be more prone."

Fluttershy rubbed her muzzle, head cocked. "But you mean well, right? You'd protect the life of another pony if you could, right?"

"Of course I would." Fleetfoot shimmied an inch away; she winced. "I can't stand seeing an innocent pony wounded. I'm not that cruel."

Fluttershy shrugged. "What do you mean? I don't get why you keep bringing that up."

"I'm not exactly what one would call chivalrous."

"We've all had moments like those, right? I mean, Captain—"

Cringing, Fleetfoot pushed herself upright. "And don't say anything about her. She stepped down, remember? That whole thing about her depression and her impaired judgment caused more panic than it should have."

"But depression was so rare in Equestria. We were all a happy society—from the looks of things."

"And look where that's gotten us." Fleetfoot made her way over to the red couch, plopping on the leftmost cushion. "We've had not one, but four major instances with deity-like crazies. We've had ponies getting bruised and pushed into all sorts of crazy hijinks, some of which ponies like I would want to forget about. And don't get me started on Princess Celestia just vanishing over a year ago. Now, everypony is going nuts and we're afraid of revisiting the time when tribes just bickered with each other."

Fluttershy remained static, only the muffled gusts outside and the ticking clock making a peep. Taking a deep breath seconds later, she muttered, "You have a lot on your mind, don't you?"

"No kidding."

"Maybe Rarity can help ease things a bit."

Fleetfoot moaned; her stomach twinged a tad. "You mean she's here, too?"

"Do we have a visitor, darling?" a voice asked. Trotting forward was a white unicorn, her purple mane curled and sparkling. Her sapphire-colored eyes captured Fleetfoot's attention, though instead of gasping and blushing, she merely recoiled. "I'm glad you could join us at this time, dear."

"Here it comes," Fleetfoot whispered to herself.

"Fleetfoot, right?" Rarity's smile vanished in an instant; a bemused expression took its place. "You know what I'm still waiting for, dear. Your behavior toward Rainbow Dash isn't what I'd call admirable."

"Sorry." Fleetfoot sulked. "Helps that everypony but you and Rainbow Dash weren't themselves that day." Nopony wanted to revisit such an awkward day. Rolling her eyes, a sigh escaped her mouth. "Tell me this. Have any of you acted differently on a certain day for one reason or another?"

"I don't know, but—" Rarity nodded "—I guess so."

"I took Iron Will's lessons too seriously one time," Fluttershy added. "And I've become shier than I've always been at times. I-I don't know if those counts, but it's something."

"It works for me." Stretching her wings out, a snapping sound pierced the air, Fleetfoot's joints back in place. "So then, I know I've been a huge jerk and all, but do you mind if I crash here for the night?"

"You're welcome to stay here as long as you need to." Fluttershy grasped a green blanket; she gently tossed it onto Fleetfoot. "I'd never let anypony freeze to death outside. And besides, you're a better pony than you think you are."

Fleetfoot cocked her head. "What makes you say that?"

"Call it a hunch, dear," Rarity said. "Anyway, we have some hot chocolate available in the kitchen, though it's not much. We also have some water if you'd prefer that. Would you like a cup, dear?"

"Sure. I'll take the hot chocolate." A slight smile decorated Fleetfoot's visage; the silhouette of a yellow and aquamarine pegasus reaching the tip of her mind. "Not too big—" she rubbed her muzzle "—please."

"See, you do have exquisite manners. More of that, and things will go wonderfully!"

Rolling her shoulders, Fleetfoot kept her mouth sealed. Neither she nor Rarity uttered a peep, the fireplace's crackling all anypony heard.

"Well, I'll go get your hot chocolate ready, darling." Rarity trotted into the kitchen, only to stop and resume eye contact with Fleetfoot. "You're free to relax as you please."

With Rarity out of sight, Fleetfoot placed the back of her head against the cushion, her forelegs spread out. She closed her eyes a second later. Perhaps spending some time within the cabin's confines a little longer than planned wouldn't hurt. Why anypony, especially those she has a history with, would welcome her had no basis in reality. Yet, here she was, her nostrils tickled by ashes fluttering from the fireplace and her muscles loosening at last.

Oddities just happened.

Yet, the circumstances seemed too unusual. Fleetfoot peered around the room, a few framed pictures of the pair with their closest friends displayed. One of the larger pictures, a poster of sorts, had a slight tear in it, but the rest were in immaculate condition. A small bunny hopped across the floor; he then paced around one of the carpets with his buck teeth protruding. The scrunched face drew an arched brow from Fleetfoot.

"At least someone here has the right idea," Fleetfoot muttered. Closing her eyes again, she yawned. "Still, what are they doing up here in the first place?" Resuming scanning the cabin, Fleetfoot noticed a few additional pictures and decorations, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. No trinkets which turned her pale or any concoctions to knock her out were anywhere to be found.

It was a normal cabin in the mountains. Nothing more and nothing less.

It was too normal.

Fleetfoot clenched her teeth. Maybe leaving soon wouldn't hurt.

"Fleetfoot, is everything okay?" Fluttershy asked. The pegasus approached the couch and sat next to her; she then wrapped a foreleg around her back. "Oh, you're quite warm." She blushed. "No offense."

"It's okay," Fleetfoot replied. She locked gazes with Fluttershy. "By the way, what are you even doing here? Don't you live in Ponyville?"

Fluttershy pursed her lips. "It's—it's a long story."

"It's about those vines just outside Ponyville, right?"

Nodding, Fluttershy then exhaled. "Yes, it's about those vines. Nopony knows why they're back. Even Twilight has struggled in keeping them away from the town." Her eyes shimmered; a small stream cascaded down both of her cheeks. "And some ponies—well—they've been hurt quite badly."

"At least Ponyville is standing." She paused, the tip of her hoof rubbing her muzzle. "Look, can you stay calm? It'd be easier for you and everypony involved, if I must be honest."

Fluttershy twiddled with her mane. "I-I guess so."

A blank expression adorned Fleetfoot's visage. "Promise?"

"I-I promise."

Rarity trotted out of the kitchen, a coaster and a teacup levitating to her left. A white mist flowed from the cup's rim; a warm, crisp scent reaching Fleetfoot's nostrils. Less than a second passed between then and when her lips curled into a bright grin; the mouthwatering aroma also perked up her seating posture.

"It's the best I could do with what we have," Rarity said. She brought the cup over to Fleetfoot, the latter swiping it. "I do hope you enjoy it."

Fleetfoot kissed the warm liquid; she retracted them in a flash and puckered her lips, a stinging sensation coursing through them. A scrumptious, refreshing taste tickled her tongue, however. "It's awesome," she replied. Exhaling, she sipped once more, the stinging on her lips fading. "It's quite the recipe."

Grinning, Rarity then made her way toward an empty chair. "Well, it is a recipe I've been tinkering with for years. My younger sister adores having it during cold days like this—" Rarity shrugged, face tautened "—though it's always freezing nowadays."

"Sister?" With her head raised, Fleetfoot locked gazes with Rarity. "Where is your sister, anyway?" She cocked her head. "Does she live here?"

"She's stuck in Sweet Apple Acres, but is doing just fine from what I've heard." Rarity plopped onto the chair, her body bouncing on the cushion for a second. With a quick breath, she pursed her lips. "Still, I worry about her. I know Applejack and Big Macintosh can keep her safe, but for how long I don't know." Tapping her hoof against the floor, clacks filling the air, Rarity let out a groan. "Getting rid of those fiendish plants is much harder than it looks." She rubbed her back, cringing. "They sting, too."

"Have you tried—" Fleetfoot ruffled her wings "—you know—flying above them with Fluttershy?"

Fluttershy nodded. "We've tried that, but the plants keep biting at us whenever we get close."

"Of course." Fleetfoot rolled her eyes. "It's never easy. There's always some sort of mountain to climb."

"I-I guess so." Fluttershy twirled her mane around her hoof. "By the way, why are you here?"

"I'm collecting minerals and rare food for Cloudsdale." Fleetfoot paused; she scowled. "It's a load of crap, to be honest."

"Well, I hope you'll find what you need," Rarity said. "Nopony deserves to be stuck in such preposterous weather."

Just then, Fleetfoot's ears twitched. A rustling sound filled the air; a muffled pounding noise followed a second later. Her heart lodged up into her chest. "D-did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Fluttershy asked, raising her brow. "I don't hear anything weird."

"Maybe you're imagining things, darling," Rarity added, her expression slightly grim. "Maybe you just need some rest."

The rustling returned. Fleetfoot's breathing picked up; her cheeks turned pale. She knew her imagination wasn't playing tricks on her. After all, she'd experienced bone-chilling trials in the past; one instance saw her eyes turning glassy as she almost kissed death's lips once. Then again, most ponies she knew survived said ordeal.

Even if logic dictated they should've perished, but oddities reigned as king back then as well.

Another series of rumbling noises polluted the air, Fleetfoot's legs quivering.

"Wait, what was that?" Fluttershy shrieked. Her pupils shrunk. "Did anypony hear that?"

"I did," Fleetfoot responded. The floor vibrated, Rarity toppling onto her flank with a harsh thud; Fleetfoot cringed at the sight as creaks and cracks split the air. Every inch of the glass windows to the right was covered with a white mass. She knew she'd have a close encounter with the snow; Fleetfoot noticed fissures running along the glass, growing. "This is gonna suck."

The wall before the three mares collapsed, a rush of snow sweeping in and devouring all in its path. Neither a scream nor a whimper reached Fleetfoot's ears, the rumbling drowning out all in the vicinity. Clenching her teeth, Fleetfoot braced for the impact, knowing no amount of flying prowess would see her escape.

The world became a vast expanse of white; small punches collided with Fleetfoot's body. She caught a glimpse of a yellow foreleg flailing about, then Rarity's shut eyes and battered, bruised coat.

And then, the aches ceased all at once, everything around Fleetfoot metamorphosing into a black void.

Everything fell silent.