Antonovka

by Soufriere

Rating: everyone
Tags: Alternate Universe, Granny Smith, Drama, Original Character, Other, Adventure, Princess Celestia, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 35737

Long ago, in a corrupted wood, a young mare learned that fixing a mistake can have unintended consequences.

Centuries ago, when the heart of Equestria was still wild and untamed, corrupted and twisted by powerful ancient magic, Annie and her family, exiled from their former homeland, settled near the edge of the then-unexplored Everfree Forest. Her efforts to protect her family from certain doom will, unintentionally, change her and Equestria forever.

Published 2015-12-14 05:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-04-30 18:41:39 UTC

Chapter One: To the Frontier

As the sun dipped below the horizon and the branded moon shone its subtle reflected light over the land, the air had a bit of a bite to it, showing once and for all that Summer was gone for the time being, replaced by Fall, its infinitely more fickle cousin. Although really, what moonlight was there was mostly blocked by the numerous trees surrounding our ramshackle homestead, creating a multitude of shadows dancing to some ethereal tune with no rhythm or any real melody except for the wind itself. On nights like this, before or after supper, I’d gaze out the glass-less window and watch the spectacle, imagining myself in a duet with them.

After a few minutes, or maybe half an hour – I really have no idea; we didn’t have timepieces back in those days, just used the sun – I decided I’d had my fill of staring out the window for the evening and went to join the rest of my family in the dining room. Well, it was also our living area and just about everything else not bed-related since our cabin only had two rooms. Come the winter, it would double as the kitchen too. Over at the plain table, my father Gravenstein sat, worried as usual.

“What’s wrong, Pa?” I asked.

He shook his head and spoke like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. “It just ain’t working, Annie,” he said. He didn’t have to say what ‘it’ was; we all knew.

We had planted crops, plus an orchard with those special apple seeds I found during my first trip outside the homestead, but even magic-infused rainbow apples require time to produce something decent; it took until the next Fall before we could make anything useful from them. Regular orchards take over seven years to grow before they put out. The staple crops we had on hoof were just enough to get us through the winter if we rationed them carefully between the five of us.

In the distance, deep within the Everfree Forest, that cursed hell-wood just to our south, the Timberwolves let out their sinister howls. To the untrained ear it sounds mournful, but get into a tussle with them and you’ll learn quickly why you can’t trust your ears. It had been a few months since I first encountered them and scared them off. Who knew they hated the sound of metal on metal? After that, a lone one showed up from time to time thinking it could scare us or eat us; a few clanks of some utensil on the tin sheet put a stop to that, and they would avoid us for awhile.

Things were changing, though. In the beginning, we only had Timberwolves coming out of the forest once every two weeks or so, if that. But about a month ago, three showed up at once, except this time none of us had gone into the forest and provoked them. We still drove them off like always, but from that point, we had to deal with them almost every day. They were getting bolder too. It felt like it took more and more noise each time to make them leave. Plus, a few days earlier, we saw a strange creature on the far edge of our field that looked like a lion but not exactly, as well as a starry outline that came and went.

Still, we persevered. After all, we had our duty. Celestia herself personally granted us this land.

I need to take a little detour here and tell you what Canterlot was like back in those days. Obviously it wasn’t as built-up as it is today. That’s because the population of Equestria as a whole was less than today. More importantly, Canterlot itself was much smaller – the government undertook some major terraforming initiatives a little over a century ago to make more of Equus Mountain habitable. What land there was, mostly a small strip along either side of the Royal Mile, had long been a playground for the Nobility to build their fancy mansions behind the low brick buildings housing the businesses they controlled. The architecture is completely different today as well, not only because of urbanization, but because the Nobility have always had this habit of simply demolishing their old houses and frontage buildings every few decades or so to rebuild in whatever style is popular or whimsical at the time. The whole kaboodle is still fancy as a gold-apple, honestly, but you really can’t expect anything less living so close to the celestial princesses.

They say the only thing better than living near the palace is living in it. I disagree on both counts, but I’ll get to that later.

Canterlot was then encompassed by a series of walls; only the outermost and palace barriers still exist today. In between those was an “Inner Wall” that served to mark the city proper, first built in the decades following the Nightmare War. Only Unicorns, specifically those deemed sufficiently Noble, could live inside. Earth-ponies lived on the outskirts in one of a few districts: a separately walled strip of land along the main path into the city for the wealthy and ennobled, and then various areas outside the walls on the slopes for the grunt workers. There were far fewer Pegasi around back then as Celestia would not succeed in bringing the Chiefdom of Cloudsdale under her suzerainty (that’s “control” by another name, sorry if some of the words I use are too big for you, young’un) for another fifty years.

When my family and I arrived at the Old Outer Gate, since demolished along with about half the Earth-pony Annex to make way for Canterlot’s rail terminal and a much less fancy but more functional gate, we got some questioning glances from the royal guards due to all of us looking like we’d been wandering the world for five years… which we had, but they let us in anyway. They didn’t really have much of a choice; it was the depth of Winter and they didn’t want to dawdle outside any more than we did.

As the Annex was built along a single road on the side of Equus Mountain, there was little room for structures on the inner side of that path and no room on the outer side, so the locals built up. Simple, functional buildings, but I had never seen any so tall in my life. Of course, at that point in my life, the tallest structures I had seen aside from a few ancient spired Sun Citadels – not many of those around anymore – were the four-storey live-in businesses in Trottingham, which I considered the “big city”. Naïve.

Anyway, as I marvelled at the urban surroundings, Pa approached the Inner Gate, where he was immediately stopped by two Unicorn guards. He requested an audience with the Princess. Audacious, huh? Well, the guards certainly thought so, to the point that one of them decided to arrest the five of us and cart us off to the palace brig in a paddy-wagon.

Travelling down the Royal Mile in a wheeled cage is not a method of transport I’d recommend. Especially since the Unicorn Nobility, especially the foals, stood along the road and laughed at us poor folk with our dirt and filth and lack of fancy clothes. One threw a rotten tomato that hit Pa in the face. How he stayed stoic through that, I’ll never know.

When we reached the ornate Palace Gate, the guards began to talk amongst themselves.

“What have we here?” asked the palace guard, another Unicorn who looked nearly identical.

“Intruders,” the other replied. “They say they’re refugees and want an audience with the Princess,” he finished with a snorting chuckle.

“Really?” asked the palace guard, stifling a laugh.

“We are refugees!” Pa interjected. “And me an’ my family were hopin’ for an audience with the princess.”

The palace guard gave us an incredulous look. “Let me guess. Down on your luck. You heard Princess Celestia was kind and good and might help you, right? Well, whatever stories you heard are fiction. No one gets in to see the princess. She’s much too busy running this country to bother with peasants like you.”

As soon as he finished his sentence, he fired off a bolt of blue-tinted magic into the air which dissipated with a loud pop. The fancy Unicorns behind our cage applauded the spectacle. Then he continued. “You mudponies really have some nerve coming here. Your place is down working the fields so we can eat. Using magic burns a lot of calories. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

Pa shook his head. “Nope. Can’t say I do. But I can tell ya I’ve prob’ly got more integrity in my hoof here than all y’all guards have put together.”

That just made the guard mad. He lowered his head and began to charge what I learned in hindsight was a powerful attack spell. He never smote us, though, because at that moment the palace gate opened from the inside and we were greeted by a being I believed at the time to be the most magnificent pony anyone would ever lay eyes on: Celestia herself, in full regal splendour. Of course, the shock of turning around and seeing the princess caused the guard to accidentally fire off his spell directly at Celestia; she easily deflected it. With a grave expression she began to address her guards.

“What is going on here?” she asked.

The guard of the Inner Gate stuttered an answer, “W-well, Your Majesty, these mudponie—”

Celestia cut him off. “You shall utter no slurs in my presence. I serve as ruler for all three pony races who reside in my realm. Each has a role in maintaining this world. Magic is worthless when faced with overwhelming numbers …or a populace unwilling to grow your food and quarry the stones for your barracks.”

“Y-yes, Your Majesty,” the guard replied, deflated. “Please allow me to start again. Uh, these five ponies claim to be refugees and wanted to…” he wanted to laugh but at this point held himself back, I’m sure because he knew what would happen if he stepped out of line again, “…request an audience with you.”

Celestia nodded slowly. “Bring them inside.”

They reluctantly wheeled our cage through the gate and, instead of veering off a side path to the dungeon, stayed on the dirt road flanked on either side by the elaborate and immaculately maintained grounds. Before we reached the final drawbridge to Canterlot Palace itself – the main castle bit hasn’t changed much if at all in centuries, though more auxiliary towers have appeared in the interim – Celestia turned to Pa, looked him square in the eye, and spoke directly to him in her calm motherly voice.

“Tell me. Where are you from?”

Pa needed a minute to process that. “Well,” he said, “me and my family here’s been wandering the Central Plain for over four years now trying to find a place to call home, but nowhere has worked out yet. Where’d we used to live? Hippus Valley, near Trottingham.”

Celestia raised an eyebrow at his answer. “Hippus Valley? Then you five are of a Clan ul de Tarpan, I assume?”

It was time for Pa’s eyes to go wide as dinner plates, as did the rest of us. We never assumed any pony outside the immediate area of the Valley would know about the ancient Clan system.

“We were,” Pa said. “My full name’s Gravenstein di Rosales di Malus. We got banished from the Valley by our brethren in Clan Kaolin.”

The princess nodded slowly. “Did they invoke the Shunning?”

“Eeyup,” Pa said simply. “We disagreed with the decision to cut off the Valley from the outside world, so they told us to take our chances in it.”

“I see,” Celestia replied. “You have told me what is most important, thus you have no need for an audience with me. That said, I would very much like to hear more first-hoof accounts of life in the Valley. Please come into the palace; you five will be my personal guests until I am able to devise an appropriate fate for you. And, Gravenstein, do introduce your family, if you would.”

“Uh, yes ma’am!” Pa said with a bit of a jump. “This here’s my wife, Margil. That bigger ruddy stallion’s my older son Manx Codlin. The tan boy is Nickajack. And this little green lady,” he gestured to me, “is Antonovka, or Annie for short. Our only daughter.”

Celestia lowered her head until she and I were practically snout to snout. “Greetings, Miss Antonovka,” she said. “You have quite the fortitude to have been able to endure so long as a refugee.”

“I dunno. I just did it,” I said. “Certainly wouldn’t ‘ve been able to without my family here.”

She smiled. “I appreciate your modesty.” Then she charged her long white horn with its golden aura, and the bars of our cage (and its roof) disintegrated, leaving us to be ferried by the guard in a regular flat-bed wagon. “This guard will escort you into my palace. I shall arrange accommodation for the five of you.”

And then she flew off to an upper balcony. I’ll never forget that first time seeing those wings in action.

We were given four separate rooms in the palace – one for Ma and Pa, plus one each for me and my brothers. I guess it was our stubbornness and pride in being of the land, but we often refused the fancier perks Celestia tried to give us – we could bathe ourselves, thank you. Once every few days when she had the time, Celestia would call Pa into her chambers for about half an hour to question him about our former Tarpanite brethren. Ma thought Celestia might have been doing more… dubious things as well, and she got more and more suspicious as time went on.

One day while I was washing my bonnet and bows, a palace guard – not the one who had harassed us at the gate; he had been demoted – came in saying Celestia wanted to speak to me. I wasn’t sure why, but a normal Earth-pony just a few years out of filly-hood doesn’t say no to the princess.

I found myself in Celestia’s personal antechamber. She was laying on a plush pink pillow upon an impossibly ornate rug, a fire softly crackling in the hearth behind her, as the Spring was slow in coming that year, so it was still chilly, especially considering Canterlot’s high elevation.

“You wanted to see me, princess?” I asked, even though we both knew the answer.

Celestia nodded. “Yes,” she replied simply. When I asked why not either of my brothers, she replied, “Your brothers have undeniable fortitude, which will doubtless help them throughout their lives, but that does not interest me. You do.”

“Why?” I asked. “I’m just an ex-Tarpanite refugee.”

At that, Celestia smirked. “I have been ruling this principality for, shall we say, a considerable amount of time…”

“More’n ten years?” I interrupted. “But, ya don’t look that old.”

“Well, more than ten years is certainly a truthful statement, so let us leave it at that for now,” she replied in that tone she uses that was at once trying to be sagely, stifling a laugh, and being a tad bit condescending. “Anyway, I believe my experience allows me to sense a pony’s potential, often before they themselves can. There is some spark deep within you which I have not seen in many years. That you have survived as a refugee for so long despite your diminutive size is proof enough of your tenacity, though perhaps that is a family trait. I believe you will accomplish great things in your life, and I hope to learn of them.”

I was shocked, nearly weak in the knees, at her words. All I could do was utter a dumbstruck “T-thanks, princess.”

She magicked open her chamber door and politely asked me to take my leave as she began her moon-raising ritual. I hadn’t gotten back to my room yet when I came face to face with Ma, who looked even angrier than usual.

“So,” Ma said with more than a bit of spite, “What’d the princess want with you?”

I shrugged. “She just wanted to talk to me,” I said. “Weren’t nothin’ more.”

Ma barked out a laugh. “Really. She isn’t ‘equal opportunity’? Y’know, I heard stories ‘bout how ponies on this mountain act. And they get away with it ‘cause they’re rich. You best stay away from the princess if you know what’s good for ya. Pa’s already falling under her spell.”

I tried my best not to look at my mother like she’d lost a few screws, even though I felt she clearly had, and muttered some sort of agreement that satisfied her as we went our separate ways to bed.

The next morning, after breakfast, Celestia called all five of us into her chambers. She led us out onto the massive balcony that looked over what seemed like half of Equestria. She turned to Pa, much to Ma’s disgust, leading him to the edge as she spoke.

“My realm is a large one. With the exception of the Cloudsdale Chiefdom to the north,” she gestured to the mass of clouds and rainbows in the distance, “everything you can see from this balcony is Equestria. After centuries of stasis or decline, this country’s population is finally beginning to grow again, and I believe a time will come… when, I know not… that Equestria will be fully connected not just by wagon trails, but formal roads once again. Perhaps even modes of transportation we cannot yet imagine. In order for that to happen, it is necessary for more settlement in the heart of this land.”

She turned her attention to the southeast, where a river running down from Mount Equus meandered through a giant forest, splitting it in two. The north side of the river had low rolling hills punctuating its bottom-lands, its trees a bright green. South of the river, everything seemed bigger and much darker; I noticed some sort of faint purple haze over the canopy. I was immediately curious about it, but Celestia’s voice jogged me out of my thoughts.

“Gravenstein, I shall issue letters patent to the Celestial Court to confer upon you a proprietary charter for a measure of land on the north side of the River Cavalo, where you and your family will be able to live your lives as you see fit.” she decreed.

“What about the south side of the river?” I asked without thinking.

“We do not speak of what lies beyond the south bank of the Cavalo,” replied Celestia bluntly. “It is in your interest to expunge such thoughts from your mind. Now, since you have declined my offer of a home in the Annex…”

Pa interrupted. “We never wanted special treatment, though we’re mighty happy with your hospitality through the winter, Your Majesty.”

Celestia cleared her throat to continue, “…the road ahead, literally and figuratively, will be a difficult one. But I have faith that through your efforts, you will establish a bulwark in Equestria’s forgotten heart that can, in time, become a domicile about which anyone could be proud.”

At that point, one of her many little pony minions with a scroll or three popped out of nowhere to bug Celestia and she quickly but guiltily ushered us out of her chambers. Not long after that, we had our official pieces of parchment giving us, by Celestia’s grace, rights to the land we would settle, and I quote: forever.

We weren’t about to give that up without a fight.

Chapter Two: The Timberwolf

Okay, where was I? Right. That chilly night in late Fall.

Ma sat in the corner, nursing a wound on her back leg that a Timberwolf nearly bit off the day before while she tended an outer field. She’d tried to stay active despite the injury, but the pain was just too much, so she had us help fix supper. By that I mean she had me fix supper – Pa may have had a knack for collecting seeds and helping them grow, but asking him to make any food requiring more than just pulling it off the plant was pointless and probably hazardous to everyone’s health. Manx Codlin and Nickajack took after Pa in that sense; they could (and did) toil in the fields all day and perform minor miracles of carpentry, but having them try any domestic chores was a surefire way for half the house to end up destroyed. At least they could rebuild it, which is more than I could say for myself.

So I set to preparing food: vegetable stew. Back in those days, cooking big meals outside was the standard way of doing things. If the weather was bad, we had a big tarp made out of tanned cowhides to string up. If that didn’t work, well, most likely someone got wet, usually Ma, which may explain her attitude. See, Hippus Valley never gets much rain; its fields were and probably still are fertilized by the silt from the River Ot that runs through. Idyllic to be sure, but be careful if you ever go there; Tarpanites have a long memory and hold grudges.

Anyway, throwing veggies into a stew was about all we could do to ensure what crops we had lasted as long as possible. Manx fetched two buckets of water from our well: one for our stew and one for cleaning the food – he could do that at least without messing it up – while Nick hauled logs and kindling to the outside stove. After washing the veggies, I did my best to chop them, which isn’t easy when all you have is hooves and a dull knife. Pa was too busy brooding about the state of our lives to be of any use, so Manx brought out a lantern to hang on the hook near the stove to help me see as I threw what edibles there were into the old cauldron pot, mixing it with a ladle we’d brought from the Valley. The closest market town back then was Detrot, some three days away.

Cooking can be liberating or therapeutic… or it can be boring. This night it was boring. Standing outside, constantly stirring a tasteless concoction of water and vegetables – we had no spices in those days either – lit only by a single lantern, I nearly fell asleep on my feet. That is, until I heard a familiar, terrifying sound: branches crunching amidst the violent rustling of the treeline. Immediately afterwards came that unmistakable scent of brimstone. The biggest Timberwolf I had ever seen had suddenly come out of the Forest and stood just a few yards away from me, its infernal green eyes glowing in the twilight. Had it not been so close, and I not been so caught off guard, I would have just made some noise like always, but a full cauldron can’t produce a sound worth scaring off a fly, so I was stuck.

It craned its head down over our perimeter fence, apparently the better to smell me with. I could certainly smell it – rotten eggs and death. It opened its mouth, and I will swear to this day I heard it start to say something, but I couldn’t quite make out what it was: something about ‘yes perfect’. Well, I wasn’t about to let it finish its thought. I took the only thing I had handy, our ladle, and threw it, smacking that Timberwolf right between the eyes. Startled, it reared back and howled again – big cuss may have been laughing for all I know – and bounded off back into the forest.

Unfortunately, it took our ladle with it.

“What the hay happened, Annie?!” Manx near-yelled as he ran toward me.

I replied the only way I could. “Timberwolf. Big ‘un,” I said.

At that point, Nick and Pa came out “Y’all okay?” they both asked.

“Yeah, it didn’t get me,” I insisted.

Ma slowly limped out of the house to check on all of us. She looked me up and down and then, secure in the knowledge that her only daughter was safe, told us what was on her mind: “Where’s the ladle?”

Pa, Manx, and Nick all looked at her like she’d grown a second head. But Ma was never one to be trifled with. They turned their heads in every possible direction hoping they could see it. Of course they didn’t.

“I, uh, threw it at the Timberwolf,” I admitted while looking down at my hooves.

Ma hardened her gaze. “So go and pick it up,” she commanded.

I tried to make myself as small as I could. Were I luckier, perhaps I could have shrank into the bonnet I was wearing that night, but no. “I can’t. It… got stuck in its head.”

That was not what Ma wanted to hear. Rage billowed around her, making her seem almost as big as the Timberwolf, and honestly a good bit scarier.

“That was our only ladle!” she snapped. If her hoof hadn’t been hurt, she’d have stomped the ground right then. “You know we don’t have a lot of tools to waste here!”

“I’m sorry, Ma,” I pleaded, “But what’d ya want me to do??”

“Throw a burning log at it! Or a carrot! Something we can replace!” she yelled.

“Ma, calm down,” Nick, ever the peacemaking middle child, begged.

“We have other spoons, Margil,” Pa reminded her, gently placing his hoof on her quivering shoulder. This seemed to calm her down somewhat. In the meantime, Nick went in and grabbed a wooden spoon for me so I could finish our stew.

Supper was uneventful, and afterwards we all sat down in the main room to talk. Pa was his usual dour self, worse than he was earlier in the day; Ma was just annoyed, and my brothers and I were sure to be caught in the middle.

“We can’t keep on like this,” Ma said. “This time one of those things nearly got Annie.”

“I’m fine, Ma,” I told her, not that she would have believed me.

“Maybe we should reinforce the fence,” Nick suggested.

“Of course we should reinforce the fence,” Manx replied as everyone else but Pa rolled their eyes. “But what good’s that gonna do us tonight? It’ll take time to chop the wood and get it in place. Plus we don’t exactly have many nails left. In the time it takes us to go to Detrot’s Market and back, there could be another attack.”

“We never should have come all the way out here,” Ma groused. “Even if we can’t live in Canterlot itself, it wouldn’t have been hard to find a home in the outer slums. Maybe get jobs workin’ for some minor Noble. I may hate ‘em ‘til the day I die, an’ it may not be a life any pony can be proud of, but at least we wouldn’t be bein’ attacked by Timberwolves an’ such every single day!”

I was shocked to hear that. Ma had never been that direct about her opposition to our situation before.

“We’re farmers!” Manx said, banging his hoof on the table. “We’ve always been farmers. Do you really think any of us are cut out for city life?! Do you really think you could spend every day for the rest of your life taking orders from some Bone-Head who wants his marble stairs spit-shined and his food – that we’d never be able to pronounce or afford – cooked just perfect?”

“Still!” Ma wasn’t having it. “How could you all even agree to this? Just because some big white horse with a sun on her flank sweet-talked you into it?”

“Uh, I don’t think you should talk about the Princess like that,” I said.

“You would say that!” Ma retorted. “She couldn’t keep her eyes off you! I could tell. All those Canterlot ponies are just deviants.”

“Ma, you’re overreacting,” Manx cautioned her. “The Princess might’ve thought Annie’s hat looked nice, for all any of us know.”

“Pa? What d’ya have to say?” Nick asked.

Our father slowly looked up, frowning, before responding. “When Clan Kaolin banished us from the Valley, they didn’t think we’d last the year. It’s been nearly five years since then, and we finally have a piece of land and a home to call our own, something no pony controls but us. I don’t want to abandon it. And, Princess Celestia said she put her trust in us. I can’t let her down. I can’t let this family down. I can’t let myself down.”

“Well, that settles it,” Manx said. “We’ll tough it out. I’ll go to town in the next week to fetch some supplies. If I can barter, great; if not, then I’ll take a day job to afford what we need. Okay?”

Ma, Pa, and Nick nodded in agreement, but I did not.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? We need as much muscle here as possible,” I said.

“I do,” he replied bluntly.

After everyone else was asleep, I got up and, quietly as I could, made my way out of our tiny cabin. I had just about reached the front gaze when I heard a twig snap behind me. I turned to find, illuminated by the moonlight, Nickajack. He approached and looked me square in the eye.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked in a tone that made it clear no horseapples would be tolerated.

I sighed, “There’s something I need to do.”

“You’re not thinking of trying to get that ladle back, are ya?” Nick warned.

“Do you think I’m that crazy?” I asked him.

“Yes,” he said. “If we’re lucky, you’re just going to take the long trip to Detrot yourself.”

“Look, I meant what I said earlier. The strongest ponies need to stay here in case the Timberwolves attack again. I’d just be in the way. You and Manx protect Ma. I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

“The others won’t like it,” he cautioned.

“So what? I may be the youngest, but that don’t mean I’m still a filly. I can take care of myself,” I said.

“I wish I could believe you,” said Nick, sadly.

“You’ll eat those words when I come back,” I told him as I exited the relative safety of our homestead and shut the gate behind me.

We’d cut a barely-visible path to our only gate from the main road several miles east. Instead of heading that way, I decided to turn south, skirting the perimeter of our land. Before long, I reached Whinny Creek, which then had no bridges, so I had to find a narrow shallow part and ford it – not an easy task in the dark, but I happen to have been a great swimmer. The water was cold enough to freeze your soul, but I endured it, shaking myself off as I emerged.

Just beyond the riverbank stood a wall of trees, darker even than the night I had just walked through. Well, I figured, no point in putting it off.

I made my way into the cursed Forest.

Chapter Three: Sunny Town

It didn’t take long after entering the Everfree Forest before I felt myself being swallowed by its unrelenting darkness, which I will tell you was far more total than it is today. This pall of dread enveloped me. It was almost tangible, like when you leave a cooled building and step outside into a humid day at the height of summer… except this feeling wasn’t hot and sticky; it was cold and oppressive, almost metallic, ready with a moment’s hesitation on my part to rip out and/or sap away any positive emotion and replace it with this existential emptiness that seemed to radiate from every single thing around me. What wind existed in that place sounded more like the cries of the damned, a symphony I hope never to hear again in my life, as it permeated every single shrub, rock, and tree.

About that last one: After seven hundred fifty years of unchecked growth, the ancient trees of the Forest had long since become giant, forming this canopy that completely blotted out the sky. I knew it was night when I entered, but chances were I’d have no idea if the day broke unless I happened upon a clearing or a lucky sunbeam; they had watches back then of course, but they were manually wound and not for poor refugee farmers like myself. Anyway. Having learned my lesson from the last time I went into the Forest to get those apple seeds, I brought along my family’s mini-lantern. It didn’t provide a lot of light, but it was enough to move by, even if I had to carry it in my mouth.

In those days, there were no easy paths into the Forest, certainly not through it as far as I or anyone else knew; the post roads all made noticeable detours around it. And we set up our homestead in what was in those days a wild, untamed part of Equestria that had no roads at all save for the occasional wagon trails.

That meant the first hour or two – it’s so easy to lose track of time in there – consisted of traipsing narrow paths worn down by the Forest creatures or, failing that, carefully walking or even crawling through bushes and brambles. Their branches and thorns constantly made tiny cuts into my skin as I plodded through. Following these trails was the only real way I had to try and track that Timberwolf to get back Ma’s ladle. I had no idea whether or not I was headed in the right direction.

All my senses were on high alert, hoping I wouldn’t upset any wildlife that might strike out. In the Everfree, as you may have already learned, entities that could attack you amounted to… basically everything.

After some time, I reached a stream. There are many streams and rivers that snake their way through the Forest thanks to its highly uneven geography. I didn’t want to ford yet another body of water if I didn’t have to. Luckily, I found a rotting log not far downstream. Of course it started to collapse under my weight once I had gotten just over halfway across it. Isn’t that how it always works? Fortunately, I managed to scramble to the other side without falling in, but I lost sight of the trail I had been using. So, more sticks and brambles for me. How I never lost my bonnet or lantern or an eye at that point is nothing short of a miracle.

I eventually emerged from the brush to find myself upon what I least expected: a road. It was severely degraded, its formerly raised edges reduced to rubble, grass and weeds poking up through the tiny spaces in between the irregularly shaped paving stones, forming a sickly green floor to the canopy above; but its basic form was clearly visible, leading off in either direction to some destination at that point unknown to me. A few yards away I could see the remnants of two signs: one made of wood that, thanks to the elements, had rotted to the point of uselessness, and an older more permanent one made of stone that could have been a milepost laid long before the War; I had no idea because the weathered writing carved into its side and base was in some alphabet I couldn’t even begin to read – yes, I could read. The Tarpanites of Hippus Valley may not be champions of mare literacy, but Pa made good and sure I got all of what little education he could stuff into my head.

Anyway, from that stone I could go right or left. No idea what lay in either direction. If I’d had a Bit, I’d have flipped it, chosen sun or moon, and gone by the results. As it was, I closed my eyes and turned around in a circle a few times, fully prepared to walk in whichever direction I ended up facing, once the dizziness faded.

I went left.

After maybe a thousand feet or so, the paving stones gradually dwindled until I was on a simple grass path. I continued walking anyway, until I came upon the remains of what had at some point been a sign on the left side of the road. The moist nature of the Forest meant it had become severely weathered, but what of it I could see had writing in both that strange old alphabet and the one I’m writing in now. It seemed to be a welcome sign. A welcome sign for what, exactly, I couldn’t tell, because the path ahead was choked with a thick fog. With my lantern (still intact, hooray) as my only light source, I couldn’t see worth spit.

I tried to approach it, but out of nowhere a female voice called out to me to turn back. Not in any harsh way, mind you. Not ordering me, more… beseeching (you know what that word means, right?), asking but not like a question. I looked all around, trying to find its source. No luck. Then, from in front of me and off to the right, much closer than I expected, emerged the voice’s origin. It was a young but strange Earth-pony mare, only a couple years past filly stage, with a grey coat and yellow and orange striped mane and tail, who had a magnifying glass cutie mark. Her presence wasn’t the strange part, nor was it the fact that I could have sworn through the dim light of my lantern she was translucent; it was the fact that her eyes were completely yellow and emitted a strange light all their own.

“What do you mean ‘Turn back’?” I asked her.

She looked at me and hung her head. “You have the Mark,” she said. “Entering this place will lead to your doom, as it did mine.”

As I stood there trying to figure out what in the hay she was talking about, she turned her glowy eyes down the path in front of me. The fog lifted slightly to reveal the remnants of a settlement, enclosed within a simple wooden fence not unlike the one Pa and my brothers built to mark out our homestead. Several yards in I could see the outlines of dwellings. Ancient single-room homes, over a dozen of them, built in a mud-brick and thatch style that even the traditionalists in Hippus Valley had stopped using centuries earlier. More importantly, all the houses I could see, except one, had partially collapsed and rotted away, leaving crumbling walls and exposed beams sticking out in the perpetual dark.

Out of dumb curiosity, I walked a few steps further, at which point I noticed the remnants of a gate hanging open and a grassy path beyond, meandering between the ruined homes. I turned back to talk to the young grey mare I had met, but she was gone. Instead, looking forward, I saw a pony come out of the one intact house and walk slowly towards me, back-right leg dragging slightly. Another mare, older, this one with a dull grey coat and wispy red mane. She was thin: skin and bones thin, as if she had become partly mummified. From what I could see, she had no cutie mark despite being full-grown. Her eyes had a distinct blood red glow to them, useless as headlamps. She walked up to the open gate and stopped, looking directly at me.

“Do not cross this threshold,” she said in a raspy voice, pointing her shaky hoof toward the open gate. “If you do, you will never leave this village alive. I cannot stop them, and I no longer care to try.” I don’t believe I’ve ever heard a pony sound as sad as her, before or since. I hope no one ever does.

Sad or not, I hate it when ponies speak in cryptic riddles, just as much now as I did back then. I briefly put my lantern down and asked, “What’re you tryin’ to tell me, miss… uh…”

“Mitta,” she said, slowly. “This village, Sunny Town, is a cursed place. Long ago, we committed an unforgivable sin. We were punished by the Princess, as I now know we deserved. But, shortly after, the Corruption of the Forest reached us and twisted us. They became abominations, while I… I was the only one able to retain any sense of self, for I felt remorse the others did not. Yet my guilt endures. Even I cannot remain lucid for long. Ruby will… guide you… though she refuses to… show herself… to me. I wish… I could say…”

At that point, Mitta’s head began to twitch violently, as if she was fighting some sort of bug that had entered her brain.

“You must… leave… NOW,” Mitta croaked as she slumped to the ground, her breathing horribly laboured. I wanted to help her, but the sight and stench of a dozen undead rotting pony corpses rising from the ground put an end to that thought. I picked up my lantern, turned around, and hightailed it back the other way, as far from that place as I could get.

After about a minute of galloping at full speed, I ran into the yellow-eyed mare again. Or rather, I ran through her.

“Wah!” I screamed before collecting myself and righting the lantern I had just dropped. “Y-you’re ‘Ruby’, right?” I asked her.

Ruby nodded.

“I’m Antonovka. My family calls me ‘Annie’.”

Ruby gave a polite bow. Clearly she knew her manners.

“A-and… you’re a ghost,” I said to confirm what I thought I’d seen.

Ruby nodded again, this time obviously sad.

“What in the hay happened?” I asked her.

Ruby shook her head, a quiet ethereal voice coming out from her form. “I do not wish to discuss it.”

Well, that conversation was going nowhere, so I decided to take a shot in the dark. “You wouldn’t happen to have seen a Timberwolf with a thing stuck in its head, would you?”

Ruby cocked her head at me and appeared to raise an eyebrow, though it was difficult to tell due to her eyes being literal light beacons. “No. I keep my distance from Timberwolves, a force of habit from when I was alive, though they may still pose a danger to me. Here in the Forest, the line between life and death is not at all solid.”

“Well, I guess that’s fair enough,” I said. “By the way, how come you’re able to leave that village when that other pony didn’t go past the gate?”

If Ruby had been capable of crying, I think she would have right then. “When the Corruption subsumed Sunny Town, I was already dead, so I was not affected, except perhaps by its restoring my form and giving me a wider range of movement. As for the Curse, I am why the Princess did so. Mitta probably would have broken the Curse had she been allowed one more week, but the Corruption froze everything forever. No pony consumed by that village can ever leave it.”

I nodded, pretending to understand. I decided to ask one more question: “When I reached this old road here, I went left and found y’all’s village. Where’ll I end up if I keep going the other way?”

“There are many ancient roads leading through the Forest, some in better shape than others,” Ruby said. “All roads will eventually lead to the capital, Everfree.”

“Well, that explains how the Forest got its name,” I mumbled.

“Even when I was alive, that city was in ruins and had been for a hundred years or more. No pony of pure spirit ever goes near the place, for it is the heart of the Corruption. Although, legends tell of a group of ponies living among its remains,” she warned.

“You don’t think they’d help me find my ladle?”

Ruby stared at me, her jaw dropped. “You… came into this Forest because you lost a ladle?”

“Well,” I said, “My family’s a bunch of poor refugee farmers. Soup’s about all we can make and it’s the only ladle we got, and it’s my fault for losin’ it, so it’s my responsibility to get it back.”

“You are serious,” she asked flatly.

I nodded. “Yep.”

“Well then,” Ruby said with a nod, “Maybe I can help you. My cutie mark is a magnifying glass. It means I have a talent for finding things… although I shortly thereafter found my own death as a result…” she hung her head in shame, trying to cry again but failing. Then she perked her head up. “I will use my ability to help you.”

“Well, I appreciate it,” I said. I stuck out my right forehoof to shake, then smacked my face after a minute when I realized I was talking to a ghost. “Let’s go.”

We walked down the decaying paved road, passing an unreadable carved stone milepost or broken light beacon every so often. Then, I stopped as a thought suddenly crossed my mind.

“Ruby, why are you walking? You’re a ghost, right? Can’t you fly?”

I think I saw the young mare blush. “Walking is just… more natural for me. Perhaps it is my way of denying my mortality.”

“Yeah, I can understand that… I guess,” was all I could say in return.

Just then, we were startled by something dashing across the road, something huge. Given the fact that it didn’t destroy any trees in the process, we both figured it had to be a Timberwolf. One with a silvery glint on its head.

“My ladle!” I near-screamed. Like an idiot, I turned in the direction the thieving pile of wood-hewn wolf had run. “I’m goin’ after it.”

Ruby held out her hoof to stop me, but being non-corporeal, there wasn’t much she could do except let out a furtive “Don’t…”

I wasn’t listening as I leapt off the road and made my way even further into the uncharted depths of the Forest.

Chapter Four: Blue Flowers and the Scorched Valley

I thought I had seen the worst the Everfree Forest had to offer in terms of impassibility when I entered it. I was wrong. Off the ancient road, the underbrush was so thick, I felt like I was underwater, only it was branches and leaves: slightly easier to breathe, but harder to navigate. At least once I nearly smacked head-on into a gnarled tree. I tried desperately to find any sort of animal trail, anything at all that would get me out of that.

Crunching, swishing, shuffling. Annoying.

Ruby was nowhere to be seen, although I couldn’t see much of anything amidst the foliage anyway despite my lantern; even if she was just a yard away, I’d never notice. Carefully I made my way through the underbrush, like stepping your way through a booby trap made up of tight wires – one wrong step and you’re liable to get slapped in the face with something sharp and painful. I have no idea how long I was in there; maybe it was only a few minutes, maybe it was an hour. Time loses all meaning in the Forest.

Eventually, I felt the terrain raise slightly. Some tiny hill or something, nothing spectacular, but it was a nice change from the flatness of the Forest up to that point. It was doubly nice because the undergrowth started to taper off, at it apparently does not grow well on uneven ground like the trees can. I never thought the feel of dirt under my hooves would be such a welcome sensation.

It was nice to finally have some visibility back. Many yards in front of me, as the little hill tapered to its top, I saw a break in the trees. I resisted the urge to run toward it, as my gut told me to wait and not risk tripping and hurting myself any more than I already had. So, more slowly than I would have wanted, I walked to the top of the hill.

I stepped out into a massive clearing. The entire rise was covered in bright blue flowers made all the more brilliant in the moonlight, which was the important thing to me. I cherished every moment I could see that night sky. Although, something about the sky seemed… off. It was almost as if there was some sort of oily film up there covering the Forest, distorting what I could see, tinting everything purple. Was it still night? Or did the weird sky only make it seem like night?

The answer did not matter to me at that point because I saw clearly, on the other side of the clearing, the giant Timberwolf with my family’s ladle still stuck in its forehead. It shuffled around in its spot, almost as if it was doing some sort of dance, then it let out its haunting howl.

“Now you’re just mocking me,” I snapped at it, the lantern handle making me slur a tad.

It was then that Ruby appeared beside me, immediately shrinking back when she saw the Timberwolf. “Annie, please be careful!” she said.

I didn’t listen. Instead, I took off at full gallop straight across the clearing, through those lovely blue flowers, disturbing its silvery pollen which kicked up around me like microscopic dust in the moonlight, hoping I could reach the Timberwolf before it decided to move. I knew it was futile, but I felt I had to try.

For the rest of eternity, I’ll swear I saw that damned bag of branches sneer as its body deconstructed itself into a floating mass of sticks – its head stayed oddly intact, probably due to the foreign object I’d lodged in it – and floated away on a nonexistent breeze.

As I reached the other end of the clearing, I let out a curse I won’t repeat here – not for young ears to hear or eyes to read – suffice to say it was enough to make Ruby briefly give me the stink eye, vivid even as the firefly light from my lantern passed through the rest of her.

“Must you be so crude?” Ruby asked.

“Sorry,” I said, not really sorry. “Lemme try again. *ahem* Consarn it! Where’d that dag-blasted thing run off to now??”

“I would honestly rather not find out,” said Ruby. “There could be other Timberwolves nearby as well.”

I gave her a look. “Why should you care? You’re a ghost.”

Ruby dipped her head again. “That may not mean anything. There is no proof that a Timberwolf or Manticore or any other sort of infernal creature cannot harm a spectre like myself. I could easily be in just as much danger as you.”

“Then why did you decide to follow me?”

Ruby shrugged. “It seemed more interesting than spending the rest of eternity wandering the outskirts of Sunny Town trying to stop ponies from entering the place.”

“Fair enough,” I said. “So, do you know what’s down that way?” I pointed my forehoof in the direction the Timberwolf went.

“Well…” said Ruby as she scratched her chin – she really was the most alive-acting ghost I’d ever seen. Actually at that point she was the only ghost I’d ever seen, but that’s as maybe. “If what I heard from some travelling merchants during my life was correct, that direction should lead to either the Putrid Bog or the Scorched Valley.”

I nodded. “Both of those sound real inviting,” I said with full sarcasm.

“To be fair,” Ruby said, “the Putrid Bog used to be called Clear Lake before the war and resulting Corruption twisted it.”

“Either way, I’m not sure which I’d rather run into less,” I replied.

Ruby attempted to pat my shoulder, but her hoof went right through me. All I felt was a brief chill touch my heart. I turned to her.

“Sorry,” she said. “Old habits do not die with the dead, it appears. Anyway, one thing I do know about Timberwolves is that when they travel, even when deconstructed, they prefer to use existing paths, for it lessens the chances any parts of their bodies would become entangled in brush.”

We found a trail leading from the clearing, so narrow a pony could barely fit on it, but it was a million times better than crawling through underbrush yet again. I decided to go first, as Ruby, although she never complained, made it clear she felt far out of her comfort zone and was beginning to regret travelling with me. After about fifty yards, at which point we were heading in a distinctly downward direction, something occurred to me.

“Ruby, why are you walkin’ behind me? You’re a ghost, right? Can’t you pass through trees and stuff?”

“Yes,” she said. “But I do not like to, because it reminds me I am not alive, and therefore of everything I have lost.”

“Well, guess I can’t argue with that,” I said after thinking about it for about three seconds, turning my head back to her as I kept walking. “But on the other hoof, you can fly, pass through stuff, and you’ve got neat glowy eyes! You can probably see all sorts of things I can’t!”

“Yes, I can,” Ruby admitted, “Like that drop in front of you.”

“Wait what?”

That was my punishment for not looking where I was going. All of a sudden the ground disappeared beneath my hooves. I tumbled end over end several feet down an earthen slope into a glen of some sort. The lantern ricocheted off the ground and flew off.

Once I regained my bearings, I stood up. Nothing broken, lucky for me. Even more lucky, my lantern lay intact just a couple yards to my right. I looked back; It wasn’t that far a fall. I could see Ruby’s glowing eyes up at the top. Slowly, she floated down to my side.

“Are you okay?” she asked, clearly concerned.

“Only my pride got hurt,” I said as I tried to brush some dust off myself.

I looked around me. There was a clearly delineated road here, not as fancy as the one that had led from Sunny Town, but a road nonetheless. It took up the majority of the glen, whose access to the sky was blocked by the ever-present tree canopy, while the rest of the floor was a narrow but somewhat deep flowing creek that had a distinct smell to it – I could never tell you what; not metallic, not truly putrid, maybe algal even though I couldn’t see any, or maybe just some type of moss (I did see a lot of moss along each side of it).

From my perspective, the creek flowed right to left – I could never tell you what the cardinal direction actually was; I may have brought my lantern, but I sure didn’t have a compass, not that it would have been much use in the Forest anyway.

“Which way shall you go?” Ruby asked me, turning her head each direction and giving a dim glance at each possibility.

Didn’t take long to decide. “Last time I went left was 90% a disaster.”

“But you met me,” said Ruby. I’d made her sad again. Ghosts, I swear…

“That’s the other ten percent, gal,” I assured her. “Plus you said there was a Putrid Bog or somethin’ out this way? That ain’t no place I wanna visit at the moment, an’ that there creek probably goes to it. I’m headin’ right.”

Ruby nodded, and we continued on our way, whatever way that was. I stopped for two seconds to pick my lantern back up, grateful it hadn’t landed in the water. Imagining carrying it in my mouth after that made me feel ill.

With no sense of time or direction, and only the barest sense of distance, I walked down the degraded road, Ruby following close behind. At one point we saw a stone milepost with arrows pointing in two directions. It was in noticeably better condition than the similar one I’d seen at Sunny Town, but it was still in that weird alphabet I couldn’t read.

“Hey, Ruby, do ya know what that sign says?” I asked her.

She shook her head. “I am sorry. I cannot read the ancient runes. By the time I lived, they had already been phased out for centuries and we had no reason to learn them.”

“Well, shoot.”

We kept walking for what felt like miles through the woods – the giant old trees on both sides of the road at the bottom of the glen arced towards each other, causing a continuous leafy canopy to hang over us every inch of the way. I felt at the time that I was lucky to have found that clearing, if only because it was nice to see even a warped vision of the sky. As it was, this road almost felt like being in a cave, albeit one which produced sounds the likes of which one hopes never to hear. Were they just Forest animals, or the cries of the damned and demonic? Or perhaps both.

“This is the Everfree Forest,” was all Ruby would say when I asked her.

After some time, we arrived at a junction with a much larger, much better maintained road. To our right was another one of those stone mileposts with ancient text neither one of us could read, along with arrows pointing three different directions. To the left of the post was another sign, a wooden one with arrows pointing left and right. It looked almost new and, for once, the words were readable, even if its lettering was in the really archaic style I had seen used by the older, stricter Tarpanites when I lived in the Hippus Valley, and saw again on some tapestries in Princess Celestia’s palace. Ruby, it turned out, could read the sign better than I could.

“It says taking the left road leads out of the Forest,” she said, “while going right will take one to the Scorched Valley and…”

I cocked my head. “And?”

“It says ‘Freedom’.”

Does that make any sense to you? Because it sure didn’t to me at the time. “What?! How can there possibly be freedom for going further into the Forest? Ain’t the Scorched Valley really close to the middle of it?”

“I believe so,” Ruby said. “So you would prefer to leave,” she asked with more than a twinge of worry that I picked up on.

“What’s wrong?”

She sighed, which was sort of strange since ghosts don’t breathe. “You are the first pony I have managed to successfully keep out of Sunny Town since the Corruption consumed it, so I feel a sort of affinity for you. However, even if I can move freely within this cursed wood, I doubt I can ever leave it, for my soul is forever tied to where I met my end. Being bound to a specific location is an immutable fact for nearly all spectres.”

“Ya ever tried to leave?” I asked her.

Ruby looked up. “To be honest, no. Once I awoke, I felt it was my mission to show young foals who wandered into Sunny Town its truth and guide them out before they were consumed, or to keep older ponies like yourself from entering in the first place. Even though I failed every attempt, I could never be sure when the next unlucky wanderer would arrive, so I had to stay.”

“Well, I’ll stay with ya as long an’ as far as I can. You seem like the type a’ gal could use a friend,” I said.

Ruby smiled and nodded as we continued on our way down the road. Along the way, we could see the remnants of what used to be street lamps – kerosene or something; they didn’t have electricity back in my younger days and certainly not a thousand years ago. Regardless, the tops of most of those lamps had long since been broken, rusted, or simply weren’t lit. The farther I walked along this road, the more I felt a tiny tingling sensation all over my body, a similar feeling to my first encounter with the ancient zap-apple grove.

I don’t know how long we were on that road, but all of a sudden it split off; what looked like the original road turned to the left and looked like it went up a now heavily wooded hill, although it was in complete disrepair, its paving stones barely visible. The other branch, better maintained but without any paving stones at all, continued straight.

“Straight?” I asked Ruby. She nodded. “Yeah, I figured. The road looks a bit treacherous, and somethin’ tells me I don’t wanna go up that hill.”

She opened her mouth to say something, which made me wonder if ghosts needed to move their lips to speak, or if she just forgot she was dead again. I guess I should have asked her, but I didn’t want her to make her feel any sadder than she already was. Then a thought crossed my mind.

“We’re gonna hafta take that hill road anyway, ain’t we?”

“It is likely,” Ruby said. “If your luck thus far is any indication.”

“Well, let’s try an’ avoid it fer as long as we can, okay?”

“But, is going forward a preferable option?” she asked.

“Let’s find out.”

As we continued along the dirt path, we quickly found ourselves in the strangest place I’d ever seen. We were hemmed in by walls at least a hundred feet high and getting higher the further we went, but the lowest twenty feet were smooth rock, like they’d been smoothed down over eons by water; above that, the walls became much more jagged, and had char marks on both sides that only got more noticeable the farther up you looked. Along the bottom of each side, we saw a few rocks that looked like they belonged up at the top; some even had bits of soil and vestigial grass on them.

This was definitely the Scorched Valley, but it was really more of a canyon.

About ten yards or so in, the path in front of us suddenly widened, revealing innumerable pieces of marble and cut stone that clearly used to belong to ancient buildings and had tumbled haphazardly into this… abyss? Many of the pieces had burn marks on them. Some further in had been taken and reassembled into things you could reasonably call dwellings.

Before we reached them, however, we encountered large wooden markers on either side of the path. Traditional flagpoles. Hanging from each crosspiece was a banner that looked sort of like half of the ancient flag of Equestria I saw hanging in Celetia’s throne room. Specifically, it only had the blue and white hues of the moon section.

“That looks like a gate,” I said to Ruby.

“I really do not wish to cross it. Thresholds are always a bad thing in this Forest,” she replied.

Our debate was cut off by an ear-splitting howl. We turned around and found ourselves face to face with a Timberwolf, the same one that stole my ladle, which still stuck out of its forehead like some malformed Unicorn horn. Its glowing neon green eyes radiated malice as it scraped its back right hoof along the ground like a boar getting ready to charge… which is exactly what it did, right at me. I tried to grab onto Ruby, forgetting she was a ghost and plopping unceremoniously in a shallow dirty stream, my lantern ricocheting off the wall to the valley’s other side.

I was about to close my eyes in anticipation of death, when the Timberwolf suddenly exploded three feet from me, branches and leaves flying in every possible direction. It certainly looked shocked as its infernal life met its end. My ladle also flew away, spinning end over end in a high arc that sent it all the way to some place above the rim of the valley. Of course. I would have been mad, but I was simply too shocked to do much of any reacting.

“What was that?” I asked Ruby.

“Uh, you may not want to know the answer to that,” she said, her face sporting a look of fear.

I turned around and found myself facing what I thought at first glance was a demon. Upon further inspection, I realized it was something that, at the time, I thought was far worse.

“Unicorn!” I snarled and assumed a fighting stance.

Just ten feet in front of me stood a Unicorn stallion, but not like any I had ever seen before. His coat was a greyish blue, more grey than blue, and his mane was a darker shade of the same tone. His eyes were gold, an otherworldly gold like Ruby’s, but the whites were black. He wore a hooded robe, deep navy blue with a white moon sewn on the chest. It completely covered his cutie mark. Over that he wore a cape the same colour, only punctuated with white stars laid out like the night sky constellations.

He held up his hoof, a universal gesture of peace.

“I do not wish to fight,” he said in a voice a bit raspier than I expected.

“Who are you?” I demanded.

He walked forward a couple of feet. “Verily, I should be asking you that question, for it is you who have intruded upon our home.”

“I ain’t givin’ my name ‘til ya tell me yours,” I said. (looking back on this, I am deeply ashamed of how I acted, and of how long it took me to get over my anti-Unicorn bias)

“I abandoned my slave name long ago,” he said. “You may call me Japetus, for that is my chosen name.” He bowed his head politely.

This confused the hay out of me. “YAH-peh-tus? I ain’t ever heard a name like that before. Have you, Ruby?”

Ruby shook her head.

Japetus raised his head so that his dark eyes met mine. “Now that I have introduced myself, it is only fair you respond in kind as promised.”

“Fine,” I grumbled. “Name’s Antonovka.”

“An unusual name for an Earth-pony. Have you a clan?”

“Used ta,” I said. “Rosales de Malus.”

His eyes widened at that, he turned back to another pony. This one was a Pegasus mare. Her coat was grey with just a hint of fuchsia in it, while her mane was a greyish apricot. She had the same bizarre eyes as Japetus and wore the exact same clothes, obviously altered so her wings fit through the fabric… with the exception that she had a gold icon with a crescent moon on it tied around her neck with a black silk ribbon.

“She has a Tarpanite clan name,” Japetus said. “Should we…?”

“No,” the mare replied, her tone even but alert. “Let us hear her out first.”

Now that got my gander up. “Tarpanites?! I ain’t one a’ them no more! They’re the ones ‘et kicked me an’ my family out of our home valley! It’s why we had to move so close to this durn Forest!” I blurted out without thinking.

“I see,” said the Pegasus mare. “Then I owe you an apology. For you see, the Tarpanites are our mortal enemies. Actually, most of Equestria would qualify as such, but they in particular we have opposed for many centuries. Allow me to welcome you to the home of the Missionaries of the Moon. My name is Rhea. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

She bowed politely and then raised her right hoof, intending I shake it. Reluctantly, I approached her and did so.

“Annie,” Ruby said to me, absolute terror in her voice, “These are the ponies I was talking about. The last thing I was told before my final trip into the Forest was to watch out for the Moon Cultists. Should we really be so casual around them?”

All at once, Japetus assumed a battle stance, pointing his horn directly at Ruby. “Demon!” he yelled.

Ruby, of course, immediately hit the deck, covering her face with her forehooves. “Please do not hurt me!” she cried.

“Now what the hay do ya think you’re doin’, bone-head?!” I demanded.

Japetus stared at me like I was crazy. Maybe he wasn’t wrong. “Young lady, surely you are aware that this… thing… before us is a spectral demon, an abomination animated by the dark forces gripping this land?”

“Ya mean a ghost?” I asked him. “Yeah, I know. And you’re scarin’ the bejeezus outta her! She ain’t no demon. She saved me from some real demons! And she’s my friend helpin’ me find somethin’ I lost.”

Rhea approached Japetus and placed her hoof on his shoulder, snapping him out of his stance. “If she were truly a demon of the Corruption, it is likely she would have attacked by now.”

“But what else could she be?!” he demanded. “Look at those eyes!”

“I do not believe we have the right to speak of the oddity of a pony’s eyes,” Rhea said, rolling her own.

Japetus lowered his head, a greyish-red blush appearing on his cheeks, as he backed off.

“Pardon my deputy’s behaviour,” Rhea said as she approached Ruby. “Please, stand and tell us your name. We will not harm you.”

Slowly, Ruby got to her feet – I swear the idea that she could levitate just never occurred to her – and stuttered out her answer. “Um, I-I am Ruby, f-from Saddleback Village, but I… died… in Sunny Town.” Again she would have cried if she could.

Rhea and Japetus’s jaws both dropped in shock.

“That means you are the Spirit of Light!” Japetus said with some bit of awe.

“Huh?” Ruby and I both huh’d.

Rhea cleared her throat. “It is a story best told by our Keeper of Knowledge, Callisto. She is in the largest ruined building furthest in, trying to decipher an ancient scroll we found some moons ago. All I can say, Miss Antonovka de Rosales…”

“Call me Annie. Only my granny called me by that name, and only when she was spittin’ mad,” I corrected her.

“Annie, then,” said Rhea. “Your friend’s golden eyes are a fair indication of our suspicions being correct, though it is a surprise that she would be unaware of her own legend.”

“Uh, speakin’ of which, what’s up with y’all’s eyes?” I asked.

Rhea sighed. “It is the by-product of decades living near the heart of the Forest and its Corruption, as is the greying of our coats, though we tell new recruits it comes from finding enlightenment amidst the True History, which I prefer to believe is not a total falsehood. Our recruiters for each of the three races spend most of the year outside the Forest, so they are less affected. They are here now because the time of the Festival of the Moon – or ‘Midnight Moon Merriment’ – is fast approaching.”

She gestured over to three ponies approaching from deeper within the valley. One was an Earth-pony stallion with brown coat, darker brown mane, and blue eyes; another was a Pegasus mare with a mint-green coat (a bit bluer a tint than my own green), deep amber mane (a lot darker than my blonde braids), and magenta eyes; and a Unicorn mare with a light rose coat, dark rose mane, and aquamarine eyes. All three wore robes, albeit without the flowing capes Japetus and Rhea had.

“Those are our recruiters,” Rhea said. “Enkèlados for the Earth-ponies, Kharon for the Pegasi, and Galatea for the Unicorns.”

All three bowed politely.

“Now, if you two would please come with me. I will be honoured to show you around our home and take you to Callisto.”

Ruby and I looked at each other, skeptical, but figured we might as well.

Chapter Five: The Other Side of the Truth

I followed Rhea and Japetus deeper into the Scorched Valley. Ruby brought up the rear, clearly terrified, but I could see fascination etched into her face too.

“The reason the walls appear so strange,” Rhea explained to us as she briefly lifted a hoof to gesture to them, “is that in ancient times, this was a cave system running beneath Everfree City. During the War, Nightmare Moon unleashed a blast from her horn that destroyed a great deal of the land she co-ruled. We do not know if she had intentionally targeted the cave or if it was merely a serendipitous shot, but her attack caused nearly all of the cave’s ceiling to collapse, taking the parts of Everfree unknowingly built atop it down as well. That is why the scorching can only be seen at the top of these walls. Over the centuries, our circle has attempted to reconstruct some of the buildings, though we lack the horsepower to carry out much work, so generally live amongst the ruins almost as if vagabonds.”

“Well, that explains the name of this place,” I said. “But what about y’all? You call yourselves the Missionaries Of The Moon. So that means ya worship Nightmare Moon, right?”

“Not exactly,” Japetus corrected. “We try to live up to the ideals set forth by her original form, Princess Luna, daughter of the moon and younger sister of the Sun Princess whose name we do not speak.”

“Ya mean Princess Celestia?” I blurted out like an idiot.

Japetus and Rhea winced at that. “…Yes. Her,” Rhea said through gritted teeth.

“I met the Princess Celestia earlier this year. Seemed like a nice enough mare. Gave me an’ my family a chunk o’ land after we got kicked outta Hippus Valley by the Tarpanites.”

“Perhaps she has mellowed over the last seven hundred fifty years, but she certainly bears her share of the blame for the War and its aftermath,” Rhea said with a scowl.

Something about what she said didn’t make any sense to me. “Hold on a sec. You’re tellin’ me that the Princess Celestia I met is the same Princess Celestia that won the Great War and created Canterlot? I thought it was just a thing passed down like our Clan names or Nobility titles… like I was talkin’ to Celestia The Thirteenth or somethin’.”

Japetus shook his head, saying simply, “No.”

“There is but one of that Princess. She is as eternal as the Sun itself,” said Rhea. “Such is also true of her younger sister, imprisoned in the Moon for another quarter of a millennium yet.”

We all looked up through a gap in the canopy to the Moon, full-face as always, with its dark spots in the shape of a Unicorn’s head that ponies had long taken to calling the Mare in the Moon. As a filly, you were told the ‘approved’ version of that tale, but never by me. Of course we all have the luxury nowadays of asking Luna directly. Well, maybe you could, as she seems to have taken a shine to you. Can’t really blame her.

Rhea looked over to me as we walked. “While the ultimate catalyst for the War as recalled in that *ahem* old pony’s tale, is true – Nightmare Moon did attempt to bring about eternal darkness after feeling unappreciated by the citizenry – reality is much more complicated. It was more than just a spat between two demigoddesses. The War had started long before then, and continued for some years beyond. The Sun Princess worked for many centuries to suppress any attempt by her subjects to recount the truth.”

“It is, perhaps, slightly ironic,” Japetus interjected, “that the only other group to have successfully resisted the authority of the Sun Princess would be your former herd, the Tarpanites.”

“Well, it’s true a lot of the ponies in that valley have no real love for Princess Celes– uh, the Sun Princess. But it’s really more that they just don’t care either way. From what I remember, they just want to be left alone,” I said.

We arrived at a ramshackle building made from disparate blocks of marble, larger than any of the dwellings around it, leaning against the left canyon wall. It was also the only building to have lanterns going inside, as we could see from the malformed windows. The rhythmic flickering suggested they were firefly lanterns like mine rather than oil.

For a moment, we stood outside. Everything was silent but for the whirping of insects and the constant low whistle of air slowly making its journey through the Scorched Valley (really, they should have called it a canyon). Eventually, from out of the depths of the building emerged an older Earth-pony mare, the what I assume was originally an orange coat and reddish mane having nearly completely faded to grey. Like Rhea and Japetus, her eyes were gold with black sclera, and she wore the same robe and cape. However, she also wore an extremely ornate silvery insignia, possibly made out of platinum due to its lack of tarnish, around her neck.

“I am Callisto, Keeper of the Knowledge,” she announced herself. Kind of stuck up, I thought.

“Madame Callisto, please take these two ponies in and teach them some of the True History,” Rhea said, gesturing to me and Ruby.

She looked us over disdainfully. “Why? I can tell they have no intention of becoming one of us. Also, one of them appears to be dead, though perhaps in denial.”

Rhea sighed. “The green one is a refugee from Hippus Valley. She deserves to know why we oppose her kind. The grey one I am certain is the Spirit of Light, our natural ally. Besides, you know even better than I do that there is no point in accumulating knowledge unless it is shared.”

Callisto narrowed her eyes. “You are correct. However, spreading the Truth haphazardly risks the Sun Princess discovering our whereabouts again and finally annihilating us for good.”

“She cannot enter this Forest and you know it,” Japetus told her.

“Even so,” Callisto replied, “The green one must swear the oath.”

“Call me Annie,” I told her, my tone more than a little short.

Callisto rolled her eyes at me and turned to Rhea with a stern look. Rhea, for her part, ignored it but still turned to me with a leader’s bearing.

“I must ask that you prostrate yourself, Annie,” she said.

I cocked my head at her. “I ain’t that kinda girl!” I declared, causing Rhea, Callisto, and Ruby to all facehoof simultaneously.

“That… that means bow down, Annie,” explained Ruby in a whisper.

“Oops,” I whispered back, and then bowed down before the three greyed out Moon Cultists.

Rhea cleared her throat and began. “Antonovka ni Rosales, dost thou swear upon this spot with thy sacred honour, that thou seekest the Truth, embodied within the heart of the Moon, that thou shalt hold the Truth within thyself to use it for the betterment of Ponykind, that thou shalt never share the Truth with those who seek to destroy it, that thou shalt uphold the Principles inherent in the Truth for-ever? Concede that if thou wouldst transgress thine Oath, thy life shall be forfeit?”

I stared up at Rhea, not entirely sure what she said, but she said it with such gravitas that I still remember every word of that oath to this day. Naturally with the benefit of hindsight, I know what she was telling me, but back then? It sounded like gibberish, the same weird talk Clan Kaolin got most other Tarpanite clans to adopt. For the record, Ruby was just as confused.

“Uh… okay?” I said.

Rhea smiled. “Good,” she replied. “You will have to pardon us; our sacred Oath predates even the War, so its language is rather antiquated.”

“No kidding,” I said. “But I think I got the gist of it. Learn stuff and don’t share it with ponies you don’t trust. Right?”

Rhea looked askance at me, but then nodded. “That… is essentially it.”

“Right,” I said. “So what is this ‘Truth’ y’all keep yammerin’ about?”

Callisto beckoned us all inside the building, and we followed. I was greeted by what appeared to be a makeshift research library, much bigger on the inside than I expected – they had built into the rock wall, making it sort of a cave within a (former) cave. She sat down on a velvet down pillow, one of several, and motioned for me and Ruby to join her. Japetus had already left. After making sure we were comfortable, Rhea gave me a tired smile.

“I have heard the Truth more times than I can count, so I will take my leave. I have also been awake for what feels like days, although it is difficult to tell in this land of perpetual night without hourglasses or their keepers,” she said to me, stifling a yawn.

That made me remember something. “Yeah, speakin’ of which, when I was in a clearing, I could see the sky an’ it looked really weird, like this place was underwater.”

Callisto nodded. “That is a physical manifestation of the Corruption. I shall discuss that eventually. Ironically, or perhaps not, it becomes more powerful yet more difficult to see the closer one becomes to its heart.”

“So… how close are we to the ‘heart’ now?” asked Ruby, a tinge of worry in her voice.

“Very likely almost directly underneath it.”

“You don’t know?!” I asked in shock.

Callisto bowed her head. “We avoid scaling the heights above us. Members of our Order who did so in the past did not return… intact. Even Hyperion, our lookout, does not fly above the scorched rock.”

“By the way, Madame Callisto,” Ruby said. “I noticed something about your Order’s… encampment. Or rather, its members. Annie likely noticed as well but said nothing.”

“The fact that those of us who live here have turned permanently grey?” Callisto asked as she rolled her black and gold corrupted eyes.

“No,” I said. “The fact that y’all have ponies from all three major races livin’ here and y’all seem to get along just fine. That doesn’t happen where I come from at all.”

“Nor did it when I was… alive,” Ruby backed me up as her tone dropped as she again made herself sad. That gal, I swear.

Callisto nodded. “That is because, as said, we follow the teachings laid down by the Moon Princess before her corruption. Indeed, the Sun Princess used to adhere as well until her own separate fall.”

“What do you mean?” I demanded. “The, uh, Sun Princess, seemed perfectly okay to me when I met her.”

“That is because her corruption was of a different kind. She brought it upon herself, and it took root slowly. Indeed, it was because of her fall from grace that the Moon Princess reacted the way she did.”

Ruby opened her eyes wider, bathing the room in their golden glow. “Please tell us more,” she requested.

“You both have no doubt heard the traditional Hearth’s-Warming Eve tale, how the three races had to learn to get along to fight off the bitter freeze of the Wendigoes?”

We both nodded.

“Don’t tell me that old pony’s tale actually happened,” I said.

“No,” Callisto replied. “Not as told. Even if it did, we lack documentation of it, so I am disinclined to believe it. I study what can be verified. That is the only Truth. As far as I am concerned, that is merely a parable telling ponies they should see past one another’s race and learn to accept each other. Unfortunately, by the time of the period immediately preceding the War, that had long since ceased to be reality.

“Both Princesses were absent from Equestria for an extended period of time, as was the realm’s high-sorcerer, Starswirl the Bearded, while they fought a war in the Far North against the Crystal Empire, the throne of which had been usurped by a tyrannical madman. The legitimate ruler had been transformed into crystal from which she would never be freed. However, she had a filly whom the Princesses endeavoured to spirit out of the Empire before their discovery. They succeeded, and I believe her descendants still live in secret within the ground of Canterlot Palace, waiting for the Empire to return.”

“Return?” I asked.

“Yes. The climax of that battle resulted in the entirety of the Crystal Empire literally vanishing from the face of the earth within a single night. It was Starswirl’s custom spell, cast simultaneously by both Princesses. Nothing was destroyed; there were no blast craters, no bodies. Where the Empire had stood for a century or more, there was naught but a snowy expanse. That, however, is only background for what is truly important.”

“Which is?”

“As Equestria’s rulers were all away, governance fell to a council of Nobility. Ah, Lady Annie, I can tell by the snarl on your face that you know of them.”

“I’ve met a few,” I growled.

“Well, they were even worse back then, as their power was unchecked. One of them, a Unicorn of the Tethys clan, discovered a treatise Starswirl had half-completed before his departure, discussing the possibility of power dilution through racial intermixing. He wondered if there was a connection between weak-magic Unicorns and having mixed blood. Starswirl himself was full-blood Unicorn, and worried that if his hypothesis proved correct, no pony in later generations would ever be able to carry on his legacy.”

“Was he right?” asked Ruby.

“Yes… and no,” Callisto replied cryptically. “Magic, regardless of type, does what it will. Even if a line’s blood is diluted through mixing, there may come a point where magic reasserts itself with a vengeance. This does not just apply to Unicorns; it has consequences for Pegasi and Earth-ponies as well. Even if interbreeding makes lineages magically weak in the short term, the consequences of an ever-shrinking pool of mates are dire indeed. Starswirl knew that, but he had not written such wisdom down before the Nobility decided to adopt his half-finished theory. Their Council – still around to this day as Equestria’s Senate – laid down several decrees, the first of which banned racial mixing, under penalty of death.”

“That’s awful!” Ruby said.

I sighed. “That sounds about right.”

“The Nobility did it partly to protect themselves and give themselves more legitimacy, but also to keep ponies divided against each other and unable to oppose their other decrees, such as a massive tax rise and further elevation of Nobility above the rest of society culminating in the clearing and rebuilding of a neighbourhood immediately surrounding the Everfree Castle, not too far from where we sit, as a place of mansions for the Nobility. They further separated the rest of the city into districts for each race, along with a fifth district solely for the mixed-blood offspring of banned couples: a massive orphanage.”

“Question.” Ruby interjected. “How could they even tell who was mixed? Ponies do not show outward signs of being pure or not.”

“That is correct,” replied Callisto. “To carry out their decree, they needed help, and that is where the Society of the Sun, named specifically to curry favour with the Sun Princess, came in. They were, to be blunt, neighbourhood spies who reported illegal mixing to the authorities. Offenders were rounded up, jailed, and their offspring taken to the orphanage. They also mounted a large ‘education’ campaign warning of the dangers of mixing races – Pegasi unable to fly, Unicorns unable to use magic, Earth-ponies unable to farm or quarry. Most ponies believed it. Granted, in those days, as now, most places’ populations were overwhelmingly one race or another; Everfree itself was one of the few cosmopolitan settlements. Nonetheless, the Society’s beliefs swept across the hinterlands like an invisible wildfire. It also gave credence to certain groups that already carried this belief.”

“Tarpanites,” I said with more than a degree of disgust.

“Yes,” Callisto said. “The new theory fit in with Tarpan dogma believing in the importance of maintaining the purity of Earth-pony blood to provide a counterweight to the other two races. Their belief, which was not incorrect at the time, was that the Unicorns, who made up the vast majority of Nobility and traditionally curried favour with the Princesses, were actively working to suppress knowledge of any form of magic other than their own. Only by separating themselves from the broader society and taking their practices with them did they feel Earth-ponies could thrive. In this way, they do not differ greatly from us. Our main point of contention with them was our belief that Starswirl’s theory was ultimately incorrect and only by promoting racial harmony would true peace be achieved.

“When the Princesses and Starswirl the Bearded returned to Everfree City, they were appalled by how it had changed. The Moon Princess, who had never had cordial relations with the Nobility, immediately condemned them and demanded the restoration of the city to how it was before they left. The Sun Princess worried that angering the Nobility could spark a civil war, as their long absence had eroded their legitimacy. Starswirl retreated to continue his arcane research. The Sun Princess decided to coddle the nobility while hoping to undermine their position. This was a terrible decision on her part, for it allowed the Nobility and Society of the Sun to further entrench their power at the base.

“One night, some low-level members of the Society of the Sun infiltrated the Princesses’ Castle and attempted to assassinate the Moon Princess. Of course they failed; indeed, the Princess was so angered by the act that she executed all of them on the spot before any interrogation could happen. This upset the Sun Princess, who became drawn to the Nobility’s argument that, in a fragile society, separation was ideal for short term peace.

“One day, the Council made a decree, harshly enforced by the Society of the Sun, setting a sunset curfew for all of Equestria, knowing it would enrage the Moon Princess. In response, our forebears created our Order, declared our allegiance to the moon out of opposition to the Society, and preached the message of inclusion, harmony, and the beauty of the night.”

“That sounds just fine,” I said. “Can’t see how in Equestria somethin’ like that could lead to war.”

“We were a threat to the Nobility’s power. They convinced the Sun Princess to declare our group heretic. Once she did, the Moon Princess became convinced that her sister was the enemy. Jealousy and bitterness corrupted her heart and transformed her into Nightmare Moon, sparking the War. Although Nightmare Moon herself was defeated and sealed within just a few days, the War’s effects lasted much longer.”

“How so?” Ruby asked.

“As Nightmare Moon made her last stand, she unleashed a powerful blast of dark magic that destroyed the City of Everfree and left the earth itself permanently corrupted. She had hoped to shield herself from the Elements of Harmony. Obviously, she failed. Yet even after being sealed in the moon, the Corruption never dissipated. Indeed it seemed to strengthen with each passing day. The Sun Princess and Starswirl the Bearded, unable to fix the twisted magic of this area, declared Everfree off-limits forevermore. The Nobility returned to their ancestral fiefs where they continued to extol the virtues of exclusion. The Sun Princess and Starswirl briefly moved to the ancient city of Koniksberg in Equestria’s northeast as they designed the new capital, Canterlot, to be built on the slope of Equus Mountain north of the ruins of Everfree. While both had envisioned it as a racially mixed place, in practice it was Unicorn-only, with other races forced to live outside its walls.”

“That still does not explain how your group ended up here,” Ruby said.

Callisto shook her head. “In fact it does. The Sun Princess never lifted the declaration of heresy against us, even as she destroyed the Society of the Sun and occasionally cracked down on the excesses of the Nobility. Before the War, we operated openly in every major city, town, and village. After it, we were forced into the shadows. Equestria entered a sort of ‘lost’ period as, over the course of a century, society changed rapidly. The Princess and Nobility, even when at odds, were eager to leave the old world behind. Ancient festivals, except for the Summer Sun Celebration, were banned or fell out of favour as new ones were created; the runes you see on the mileposts along these Forest roads, already nearly obsolete before the War, were forgotten entirely; the tales ponies told their foals changed as well, to remove the idea that Equestria had ever been a diarchy or that there had once been a city founded on harmony. We made it our mission to preserve the Equestria that existed before the War. It was not easy, as every decade or so, some unfriendly pony would find us and drive us out of our chosen encampment. Eventually, we had nowhere left to go but these ruins. Despite the Scorched Valley’s proximity to the heart of the Corruption, we are less affected than we otherwise would be thanks to the latent light magic emanating from the intact cave further in.”

“And y’all have been here ever since,” I said.

“Yes,” confirmed Callisto with a nod. “Everfree is the one place in Equestria the Princess cannot tread, for the Corruption affects her badly. Other ponies fear to come due to this Forest’s many monsters and spirits, particularly those of the cursed village.”

“Sunny Town,” Ruby and I said.

“At the time of the incident, we had not yet arrived. My understanding is, whether due to generations of inbreeding or living too close to the Forest, that village’s ponies never developed cutie marks, even into adulthood. Due to their isolation, they forgot cutie marks even existed. One night, an outsider filly visited the village and, while there, obtained her cutie mark. The villagers thought it a curse, and murdered the poor filly, dumping her body in a fire and burning it. The Sun Princess passed judgement by placing what was meant to be a temporary hex on them wherein they would have to relive their crime in their minds each day until they understood the magnitude of it and repented. However, shortly afterwards, the Corruption overtook the village and twisted its ponies into demons. It is said that any pony who approaches the ruins of the village is greeted by a friendly Spirit of Light; if the pony has no cutie mark, they are invited in. But, if the pony has one, they are warned to leave lest they meet a gruesome fate. That advisory may have saved our Order.”

“Yeah, that about sums it up,” I said. “Ruby, hun? Does her story jive with what you remember?”

Ruby nodded. I think I heard her sob. “Yes,” she barely said.

“It is an honour to sit with the Spirit of Light,” Callisto said, “Though I cannot help but wonder what prompted you to leave your post.”

Ruby shrugged. “I have difficulty accepting being a so-called ‘Spirit of Light’, for it sounds too lofty a title for me. As to why I left Sunny Town after …I do not know how long I have guarded it… I simply felt I needed to follow Annie.”

“Why?” Callisto and I both asked, then looked at each other.

Ruby lowered her head. “I… wanted a friend. I felt so lonely. Annie did not run in fear of me or ignore me, as all other ponies have.”

“I can understand that,” Callisto said. “Every pony needs a home and friends, but they may not find it where they expect. Our Order provides camaraderie to ponies who felt out of place in their old lives. All of us were refugees as you were, Miss Annie. We may have a fearsome reputation, but we love Equestria and hope for its restoration as a true home for all ponies. We venerate the moon and preserve ancient knowledge. For if we do not, no one else will, and a world is nothing without its history. We would love nothing more than to come out of the shadows some day. That makes us different from your Tarpanite ancestors, Miss Annie; they prefer isolation to engagement, and it left their hearts twisted, nearly as corrupt in our view as this Forest.”

“Well, y’ ain’t wrong,” I said.

Just then, we were rocked by an explosion somewhere above us. The three of us ran out of the library to avoid the possibility of being trapped inside. Luckily, all that fell were a few small rocks.

Rhea stood in the middle of the ramshackle settlement, looking around to make sure none of her followers were hurt.

“Hyperion!” she called out. “What was that??”

A grey Pegasus stallion who appeared to have once been brown slowly flew into view. At that time, I was not used to seeing Pegasi of any kind, so I probably embarrassed myself by being so fascinated by how his wings kept him aloft despite his size.

“Lady Rhea!” Hyperion replied in his deep voice, “I have no idea. If I had to guess, something major is happening up top.”

“What do you suggest we do?” Japetus asked her.

Rhea scratched her chin for a moment. “While I want to know what is happening in the ruins, I feel it would be a bad idea for any of us to approach due to the strength of the Corruption.”

At that moment, a very stupid thought crossed my mind. I turned to Ruby. Without a word between us, we both knew what we would do and nodded. I grabbed my lantern and walked away from the Order.

“Annie, what are you doing?” asked Rhea, a hint of fear in her voice.

I turned back to her. “If y’all won’t go check it out, I will,” I said. “Besides, my ladle flew up there an’ I need to get it back or my mom’ll kill me.”

Japetus briefly stood in my way. “Are you quite mad?” he asked.

“I think ya should’ve figured that out from my comin’ into this damned forest alone in the middle of the night. Besides, I’m a lot stronger than y’all think,” I replied as I gently moved him aside.

“We will not be able to help you if you get into trouble,” Rhea warned.

“I understand.”

Without a further word from either of us, though Ruby bowed politely, we made our way out of the Scorched Valley until we reached that fork in the road we had encountered on our way in. The other direction, which had once been smartly paved, was now little more than broken, uneven stones. Nevertheless, we started our climb up the hill into the heart of the Corruption: the ruins of the City of Everfree, which no pony had seen in over seven hundred years.

Chapter Six: The Corruption

Up the ruined road I went. I had no idea what to expect when I reached the top of the hill. Or rather a mid-grade slope, covered in untamed Forest, its continuous canopy still blocking everything, with only the mossy remnants of weathered and dispersed paving stones to serve as my guide. As Ruby (whose eyes served as a nice extra bit of light) and I ascended, I felt the atmosphere grow more oppressive, as if some physical yet intangible thing had draped itself over whatever lay at the top.

Eventually, the trees thinned out and we exited the forest into what I can only describe as the most amazing but dismal place I will ever see: the ruins of the ancient Equestrian capital of Everfree. A swirling grey fog that smelled somewhat like musty clothes blanketed the ground up to just past my knees. Whatever it was, it was certainly enough to ensure that no plant life except corpse weeds would be able to grow. Was it day? Was it night? I’d never be able to tell you; just like every other gap in the canopy I had seen since entering the Forest, this place appeared to be enveloped in a perpetual dusk with no identifiable source of light, a purple sky with an oily patina through which even the moon itself looked blurred.

It wasn’t hard to see why ponies abandoned this place after the war.

At once we were greeted by a massive expanse of cobblestones, many broken, stretching off in every direction to form what must have been the narrow streets and alleyways of some ancient urban quarter. Of course there were no longer any buildings of any kind on either side; three quarters of a millennium of neglect following the war had reduced just about everything to rubble. Aside from the paths themselves, a broken wall here or there was about the only thing that indicated civilization had ever existed in this place.

As Ruby looked around, her headlamp eyes caught a glint of something a few yards away from us. I ran over and, sure enough, there was my family’s soup ladle. I did a small dance of joy before I picked it up. I didn’t exactly have a good place to store it, so I tried my best to thread its handle into my braided tail.

“Well, you have finally found what you came for,” Ruby told me. “Can we please leave now?”

By her voice, I could tell she was scared. I was too. In a place like that, it was hard not to be.

And yet, something inside me didn’t want to leave just yet. Curiosity? Youthful naïveté? A death wish? Who knows. Whatever the reason, I turned to Ruby and said to her, “No.”

“What?! Why?” she asked, her voice raising in pitch and volume.

“Think about it,” I said. “No pony has set hoof in this place for seven hundred fifty years! It’s worth at least a little look ‘round before we leave.”

Ruby stared at me like I was insane. She was probably right. “Do you not see that grey fog everywhere? Or that the sky is blocked by some oily film such that we literally cannot tell night from day? We are in the heart of the Corruption of the Forest! It might already be twisting us! Besides, there is not a thing here but a bunch of ruins. Oh, and the entrance to a castle about a hundred yards that way.” She pointed past me.

“Let’s check it out,” I insisted. “It’ll be one hay of a story to tell my kids once I have ‘em.”

Ruby wasn’t buying it. “If you live long enough.”

Nonetheless, we walked carefully across the broken stone-paved streets, our only companions the ever-thickening fog and the occasional dead weed or tree, its bark long since rotted away so you could never tell what species it used to be. Also that smell of must seemed grow stronger the closer we got to the castle.

Eventually, we exited the network of alleys and rubble of houses to come out into a large plaza – you couldn’t really call it a ‘square’ because, as best we could tell, it was circular except with one end shaved off just past the meridian.

Unlike the structures surrounding the plaza, the ancient royal castle appeared to be mostly intact, although parts of its outer wall had crumbled, revealing that a triumphal stone bridge leading to the front gate had long since collapsed into a moat which had gone dry centuries ago. Oddly, perhaps ironically, the outer gate leading to that bridge was still mostly intact – a stone archway with its keystone carved in a sun-&-moon logo: an old variant of the royal crest I had seen at the Palace in Canterlot, although its wooden doors had been blown off their hinges or rotted away.

Several feet in front of the outer gate, placed at what I assumed to be the exact centre of the truncated circle, sat an enormous fountain made of marble so pure in its whiteness it seemed almost as ethereal and translucent as Ruby. Unlike everything else around, it was mostly intact. A simple circular wall no more than seven hands high with a slightly jutting rim surrounded a long-dried basin. On top of the part of the base meant to be underwater, which had several empty depressions where precious stones likely once existed, stood statues of three ponies, one representing each race, proving the Moon Cult wasn’t lying about how this city used to be a land of racial harmony. Based on the history lesson they’d given me, I wondered why such a symbol had not been destroyed even before the war. All three ponies held an upper tier on which stood a grand Alicorn. I had never seen her before; it wasn’t Celestia or, as I’d learn, Luna. Instead, this mare had a straight mane and tail, bangs cut level above her eyes, which were inlaid with jade – the only colour in the entire fountain, its presence legitimately surprising amongst the devastation – and a cutie mark that from what I could tell was a quill pen inside an inkwell.

On the side of the fountain facing the ruined city stood a rectangular plaque set into the marble. A short message was inscribed on it, but it was in those ancient runes, so we had no idea what it said.

Although I wanted to explore the castle, something about that fountain intrigued me. It was undoubtedly the source of the nasty smell permeating the plaza. I peered over the lip into the basin expecting to see nothing but more marble. Instead, the entire bottom of the basin was filled with an iridescent blackish purple goo the likes of which I’d never seen before or since.

What do you do if you’re a young mare way outside of your comfort zone, and you come across an indescribable substance… and you’re an idiot who ignores your new friend’s warnings to please stay away from it?

Answer: You find a petrified stick nearby and you poke it with that stick.

I’m not sure what I expected to happen, but the goo suddenly coming to life and rising out of the basin like a cauldron bubbling over was definitely not it. I took several steps back in shock as Ruby ran to the nearest pile of rubble and hid. The dark mass grew until it was several times the size of the fountain. At the same time it also lost its tangibility, becoming more like a thick smoke, its colour yet unchanged.

I think it was the point when a pair of sickly green glowing eyes not unlike those of a Timberwolf’s appeared near the top of the thing that I realized I might have made a big mistake.

When, shortly thereafter, it extended a bulbous arm toward me at high velocity, breaking the paving stones on the spot I had just jumped away from, I knew I had made a big mistake.

At that point, I should have run away. But I was young and too stupid for my own good… and also annoyed because that thing’s attack had made me drop my lantern, which shattered, allowing the fireflies to escape. So instead I screamed at the thing.

“What the hay?!” I yelled.

Actually being spoken to evidently shocked the smoke blob thing. It slowly morphed into the shape of a Timberwolf, then a Wendigo, then an Ursa Minor, before settling on some sort of draconic form that allowed it to speak.

“What art thou doing in my domain?” demanded the raspy, deep, but clearly feminine voice.

“Hey, I just came here to pick up something I lost. I ain’t got no beef with ya, so now that I got what I came for, I’ll just be on my way,” I said, turning to leave.

Another attack. I felt it coming and tried to dodge, but failed. The force of the hit sent me flying into the wall Ruby was hiding behind.

“Annie! Are you okay?” Ruby screamed as I lay on my side.

Once my head stopped spinning and I was able to stand, I responded. “Yep. Doin’ jus’ peachy. Nothin’ broken.”

“I am so glad!” said Ruby as she came out from behind her hiding place to attempt to hug me, again forgetting what she was.

Much to both our surprise, her embrace connected. Ruby felt… oddly warm for a ghost. A soothing, comforting presence. We looked at each other, absolutely confused. Ruby’s lips quivered as she went through the motions of crying, although I’m reasonably certain no tears came out of her, just as I felt no breath or heartbeat from her despite the closeness.

“Ya just touched me,” I said, still in shock.

Ruby nodded, her lips contorting into a smile. “I cannot remember how long it has been since I have been able to feel another pony’s warmth.”

“But… how? Ya weren’t able to touch anything before. Why here? Why now?” I asked.

“I do not know,” Ruby replied. “Perhaps it has to do with the powerful magic about these ruins.”

“Ya mean like that dark thing that’s gearin’ up to attack me again?”

Looking towards the abomination, Ruby nodded. “You should probably move, Annie.”

She helped me to my feet, allowing me to hop out of the way just as an infernal dark fist whipped through the stale air like a battering ram, smashing the little stone wall into dust. I was fine, if barely, but Ruby hadn’t been able to dodge in time. I tried to get to her, only to dodge another blow – that creature formed a second arm from its amorphous self and tried to do a sweeping attack to trip me. I jumped, clearing it by maybe an inch as its arm connected with the ruins of a nearby house, slicing the ancient stone like a hot knife through butter.

I looked back at the thing to find its expression contorted into one of pain, holding its first battering-ram arm towards itself as if it had just been burned. This made absolutely no sense to me until I looked towards the small crater of destruction where I expected to find the somehow even deader body of my new dead friend.

Instead, Ruby stood in the exact same spot she had been in before, completely unharmed, surrounded by a sphere of dim golden light that extended out from the core of her body a yard in each direction. It emitted a quiet hum as it pulsed around her. As I ran up to check on her, I saw her eyes were no longer bright golden lamps; instead, I could see her irises: a dark red with undertones of orange to balance out her mane, which swayed slightly thanks to some sort of otherworldly breeze separate from the nastier wind whipping through the ruins.

“Well, that explains your name,” I said.

“Yes,” Ruby said with a nod. “Most ponies assumed my eyes were gold to match my mane, but that is false. They are also deeper than the magenta common in so many ponies.”

“I like it.”

“The orange of your own irises is lovely as well. But once again I believe we have more pressing issues at hand,” Ruby warned.

Right. That thing.

It hissed as it gathered its appendages back to itself, retreating almost into a giant dark demonic ball. “You…” it said. Maybe I should say she since, as I said, its voice was obviously female, and I’ll explain why in a bit, but today’s ponies might tell me I shouldn’t assume gender on a barely corporeal mass of smoky goo.

I stepped forward. “Yeah, what?” I asked with as much authority as I could, which was not a whole heck of a lot compared to my mama, but at least I tried.

The thing hissed menacingly. I think it may have mumbled something about trespassers, but I couldn’t really hear it.

“C’mon!” I said. “Ya ain’t got nothin’ ta say? You’re a quiet demonic pile o’ goo, ain’t ya? Want us to leave? Then you’re gonna have to make us!”

Ruby tapped me on the shoulder. “Annie, please do not antagonize it!”

I ignored her. “Bring it, ya big fat blob!” I yelled with a smirk.

Well, that did it. The whatever-it-was hissed louder than ever and lunged itself straight at us, although I noticed out of the corner of my eye she kept herself attached to the fountain, and stopped less than a yard short. I could feel the curdling heat of its rotten breath, or whatever exuded from it, on my face.

Ruby and I looked at each other in confusion. “Why has it stopped its attack?” she reasonably asked.

“Dunno,” I replied. Then, I made what was probably the second biggest mistake of my life as I said, “May as well have a little fun with it.”

Ruby facehoofed. “That is a terrible idea.”

I stuck my tongue out at the abomination, wiggled my rear end at it, and made silly noises with my mouth. “What’s the matter?” I taunted. “Ya on a rope like a leashed-up puppy dog? Can’t go past some line in the stone? Are you really what’s been scarin’ the Moon Cultists down there for centuries? The evil heart of the Everfree Forest? The Corruption?! What a joke! You ain’t nothin’! You ain’t—”

During my rant, I absentmindedly walked away from Ruby. As soon as I did, the thing grabbed me with her full essence, lifting me up high into the air as she squeezed me like an anaconda chokes the life out of a capybara. I could feel my lungs and heart being constricted as I struggled to breathe or even move.

“I am Corruption!!” she screamed not unlike a banshee. “I am this Forest! I am Pain! I am Loss! I am Sorrow! I am Hate! I am Nightmare!!”

As she said that last word, she slammed me with as much force as she possibly could into a remnant portion of the outer castle wall. I think my impact might have dented it, I hit so hard. After that, I fell to the stone pavement of the plaza and promptly blacked out for I don’t know how long.

Once I came to, and my head stopped spinning, I wiggled each of my legs in turn. Miraculously, none of them were broken. So, I attempted to stand, and promptly fell back into a heap and coughed up blood. Well then, my legs were fine but my ribs and at least one internal organ obviously were not. I still needed to stand; just had to take it a bit slower than I would have liked. After about a minute or two, I was back on my hooves and slowly regaining my sense of balance. Or maybe it was just adrenaline kicking in, who knows.

I turned around to face the ancient fountain – wasn’t about to be taken by surprise again – and saw that The Corruption, as she seemed to prefer to call herself, had suddenly decided to ignore me. Several feet away stood Ruby, staring down our foe, her stance aggressive, and she was angry.

“How dare you hurt my friend!” Ruby screamed as she slowly approached The Corruption, the golden light emanating from her being glowing brighter with each step. I’m pretty sure she didn’t notice at first, but she was forcing The Corruption to retreat back into the fountain. It tried to lash out at her, but stopped the instant it made contact with her aura and shrank back further.

“Worthless light!” hissed The Corruption, although even then I could tell she was lying.

Ruby was not even close to finished. “You also worked your vile magic on Sunny Town. They may not have been good ponies, but they did not deserve… that. Especially Mitta! She was almost free of the curse, but you had to ruin it with your witchery! She could have been my friend! Do you know how long I have had to wait for a pony that would accept me for what I am?? DO YOU?!”

The Corruption merely hissed defensively. Her amorphous head split down the middle in order to keep one of its eyes on Ruby; the other turned to look at me. Seeing that I was up, it shifted its bulk to ready another attack. Before it could, Ruby positioned herself between it and me, aura glowing ever stronger.

“I do not think so!” Ruby snipped. “For centuries I have wandered the periphery around my grave, trying to protect innocent ponies from what you wrought. Every time, I failed. Not tonight. You shall not take this one!” she gestured toward me.

The Corruption clearly did not take the hint. It shifted itself and made one last lunge at me around Ruby’s increasingly bright aura.

“I said STAY BACK!!” Ruby bellowed, as her aura became augmented by a second burst of light emitting from her eyes and doubled in both size and intensity, enough to envelop the entire fountain. The Corruption, caught off guard, looked around for a place to flee but, failing that, appeared to shrink back into the basin from which it came, a painful hiss quietly fading.

Threat seemingly over, Ruby’s aura quickly dissipated and she collapsed in a pathetic heap on the stones. Although I couldn’t exactly run, I still tried to get to her as fast as I could.

“Ruby! Are you okay?” I asked as I made it to her body. I tried to pick her up, but my hooves went right through her. A lump formed in my throat. Was she dead? I wondered. Okay, that was a really stupid question. Of course she was dead; she’d been dead the entire time and I knew it. But I was terrified that she was dead-dead, as in about to not be even a ghost anymore. You can imagine my relief when, after some minutes, she moved her head and opened her eyes.

They were not golden headlamps like normal (well, normal for her), but merely her original deep red irises. She turned to look at me, and smiled.

“I believe I am fine. That took a lot out of me,” she said with more than a bit of fatigue in her voice.

“Still,” I said, “looks like ya got it.”

“I cannot be sure what exactly happened,” replied Ruby as she stood up, “but hopefully you are correct.”

“Ohhh, far from it!” hissed The Corruption as menacingly as she could, noticeably less raspy this time.

We turned around to face the fountain. The unknown Alicorn at its apex glowed with an ominous red aura.

“Is that statue moving?” Ruby asked no one in particular.

I sighed with all the irritation of a child at a big family supper. “Oh for horseapple’s sake,” I said. “You’re still here?”

“Indeed,” The Corruption confirmed from inside the Alicorn statue, whose mouth did not move when she spoke. “Who would have expected the jade of this one’s eyes to be imbued with spells to prevent theft? Still, an enchantment is an enchantment, and absorbing its magic has restored my power and given me more awareness!”

“Can’t you just leave us alone?” I asked, exasperated and more than a little exhausted. “We seriously didn’t wanna cause any trouble. Just let us go an’ you can keep on corruptin’ the Forest or whatever it is ya do.”

The statue shook its head. “I cannot let you do that. Any pony who disturbs my slumber must be punished!”

“Wait,” I said. “You’re tellin’ me that for seven hundred fifty years, you’ve jus’ been passively corruptin’ the entire land?”

The statue tilted her head. “An unusual way of phrasing it, but correct,” she concluded.

Ruby looked at me, clearly worried. “Does that mean we have awoken something truly horrible?”

“Also correct,” The Corruption confirmed.

“Well… brand me,” I muttered.

The statue unfurled its massive Alicorn wings and attempted to alight from its pedestal …and almost immediately crashed to the ground, leaving a small crater where it landed. Ruby was still cowering, but I had to chuckle at that one. After all, when death is very literally staring you in the face, you have to find some humour where you can.

“Okay,” The Corruption said, pretending not to be rattled, “Evidently my magic is not yet powerful enough to lift this body.” The statue shook its head and worked its legs, creating movable joints where none had existed. “No matter. I can still do this!!”

The Corruption fired a blast of dark magic from its long horn. It missed us by several feet, but the area it hit was covered in an iridescent black goo that pulsated with electricity and smelled like something had died in a waste bin on a humid summer’s day. I grimaced and backed away to avoid vomiting. After about a minute or so, the aftermath slowly dissipated, or absorbed into the ground, one of the two.

I had only moved a few steps when The Corruption fired again, this time directly at me. I saw the attack out of the corner of my eye and just barely managed to avoid being hit. My hop landed me next to the remains of the rock wall of a long-gone ancient dwelling. The follow-through by my tail landed an audible ‘clink!’ against the stones. Right, I still had mama’s ladle tucked inside the braid.

More attacks from the corrupted statue, more dodging. At one point, its magic just barely touched the edge of one of my legs. The pain center of my brain went ballistic at just a tiny fraction of that attack: simultaneously prickly yet indescribably cold, a feeling of endless anger and sadness coursing through my nervous system, permeating my essence to the very core. Not a feeling any pony or thing should ever have; I could only imagine what the full blast would be like.

Several feet away from me, Ruby stood stock still. She was watching me fighting The Corruption hiding inside that statue intensely. I’ll admit I sort of hated that she was essentially being ignored by this thing trying to kill me, but then Ruby couldn’t exactly help being dead or having weird light powers that caused The Corruption to make a concerted effort to avoid her.

After a few more minutes of dodging attacks, a catch in my lungs and a little twinge in my shoulder told me I was close to reaching my limit as The Corruption continued to rush me and fire evil out her metamorphic horn.

“Annie! Please come here!” Ruby called out to me urgently. Like I hadn’t been trying to get to her the entire time. So I did my best to hop, skip, and jump over to her in that spot a few yards away from the ancient fountain with absolutely no cover. Eventually I made it.

As we had both expected, The Corruption stopped attacking as soon as I got within a yard of Ruby. I could hear its angry growling emanating from the form of the statue yet obviously detached from it.

“So what d’ya need, Ruby?” I asked her. “I’m glad for the respite, but we… or I… can’t fight this thing forever.”

Ruby nodded. “That is why I called you here. Do you remember me informing you my cutie mark is a reflection of my ability to find things?”

It had been a pretty crazy night. I think she’d said that at some point? Regardless, I nodded.

“I have been watching the fight so that I could see if The Corruption might possess a weak point.” Then she smiled as her aura began to glow again. “I have found it.”

My face perked up at that news. “Well, what’re we waitin’ for? Let’s get it!”

She shook her head. “Attacking its weak point will not be easy unless we act very deliberately.”

“Ya mean a plan.”

“Yes,” Ruby replied with a nod. “Let me tell you what I believe may work.”

She leaned over to me and whispered into my ear. I won’t tell you the start of what she said, but I will say my eyes went wide and my jaw dropped from the sheer simplicity and stupidity of it.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” she said. “It appears that after I forced The Corruption’s essence into the Alicorn statue, it was left with only a single outlet for magical attack: the horn. That horn is hollow due to its being a spigot for the fountain. When it left its pedestal, the other end of the water pipe, in its back left hoof, broke and was quickly sealed off by its movements against you.”

“Ya mean it stepped on its own pipe and bent it closed.”

Ruby nodded. “Yes. I believe that a coordinated attack by the both of us, using your weapon, will defeat it.”

I pondered for a moment. What Ruby proposed was without a doubt the craziest and most suicidal plan I’ve ever heard, and that includes my Pa’s decision to accept banishment and find a new homestead. I guess being dead allows you to think outside the box.

“Are you ready yet?” I asked her.

“No,” Ruby said as she shook her head. “I used up much of my energy forcing The Corruption into that statue. Recovery will take more time.”

“Well, that stinks.”

As we conversed, The Corruption fired a volley of evil at us, which bounced harmlessly off of Ruby’s golden aura. The statue walked slowly towards us. If it had been capable of facial expression, I think it would have looked irritated. Instead, it wore the neutral countenance of the ancient Alicorn.

“You two are becoming boring,” she said. “I could wait until you exhaust your energy and then kill you, but now that I have been awakened, I see there is an entire world to corrupt just like this Forest. Perhaps… I can start with those voices I hear below us. A nice snack.”

Our eyes went wide at that. “You stay away from the Moon Cultists!” I growled. “They don’t mean no one no harm!”

“Oh?” asked The Corruption with a chuckle. “That got a reaction out of you. Will you two try and stop me? You shall die trying.”

“Better than having to sit back and watch more innocent ponies killed by this damned Forest!” I snipped. “Ruby! I don’t care if you’re ready or not; we’re doin’ this now!”

She nodded. “I understand.”

With that, Ruby closed her eyes and concentrated. Her aura grew in intensity, causing The Corruption to take a step back. Then suddenly, Ruby charged straight toward the statue, glowing as brightly as she possibly could. The Corruption, caught off guard, screamed as Ruby threw herself against its tall forelegs, causing the white marble of the statue to reflect a slight gold hue. It shuddered as Ruby’s inner light affected it.

“DO IT!!” Ruby screamed.

At that, I broke into a gallop towards them, trying as best I could to ignore my injuries. Once I reached Ruby, I leapt over her and aimed myself at the statue’s head. In midair, I pulled mama’s ladle out from its place of safety in the braid of my tail and, once I was close enough, grabbed the statue’s head to give myself some leverage. That done, I shoved the ladle handle-first into the hole in the middle of the statue’s horn, using my hoof as a hammer to pound it in as far as I could force it. It didn’t take long for The Corruption to shake me off and fling me several feet away… into the remains of the fountain, actually. It hurt, a lot. Ruby ran… or maybe floated, I couldn’t really tell… over to me.

“Annie, are you okay?! Please be okay!” she cried.

I grunted as my body twitched. “I ain’t hurt too bad. Just my pride,” I lied.

“I am so glad!” said Ruby as she attempted to hug me but instead passed through me like the ghost she was. She hung her head in shame.

The Corruption approached us. With my mama’s ladle shoved into the statue’s horn, she looked absolutely ridiculous. I laughed. Ruby looked up to see the spectacle and attempted mirth, but could barely grin.

“You two… That was a very foolish thing you did. Now prepare to feel the wrath of… Huh?”

The statue began to tremble uncontrollably, much to its occupant’s shock. Ruby was right; because The Corruption’s magic attacks had some physicality to them, shoving that ladle into her only outlet caused it to clog, and now it was overloading.

“No…” The Corruption whispered. Then louder, “This cannot be! Even the greatest magicians of the age failed to stop me! How could I be defeated by two Earth-ponies?!”

“Never underestimate the resourcefulness of a pony that ain’t got magic!” I said, a smarmy smile on my face.

“Also do not discount the lengths a pony will go to to protect a friend!” Ruby said, tired sadness tingeing her voice.

At this point, The Corruption decided to deny its fate. “I WILL NEVER BE DEFEATED! I HAVE CONTROLLED THIS FOREST FOR CENTURIES AND I— uh…”

She was unable to complete her monologue because just then, the dark magic had built up inside the statue to the point it could no longer be contained. It exploded into thousands of tiny marble shards, several of which slashed my skin pretty badly, although it would have been worse if I hadn’t hit the deck and covered my eyes.

When I got out of my defensive crouch, I saw a smouldering blast crater where the statue had been. To my surprise, I did not see The Corruption herself.

“Simply by being near me, it retreated into the statue,” Ruby said, her voice having a sudden ethereal resonance to it. “I reasoned that if I made direct contact, The Corruption would be forced to merge further with the statue, meaning your destroying one destroyed both.”

“I can’t believe that worked,” I said. “But… you’re lookin’ pretty bad.”

Ruby cocked her head. “You look worse,” she replied with a smile.

My breathing quickened as I realized my new friend was fading away. She gave me a sad smile as she silently approached the blast crater and stood in its very centre. Once she did, the entire vicinity became bathed in a white glow. Ruby’s mane and tail blew upwards in some kind of magical vertical wind I couldn’t feel. Then, two shafts of light – one from her and the other from the remnants of The Corruption – shot up into the sky, piercing the oily film, causing it to, at least for a while, crinkle and shatter like badly made glass, revealing the morning sky.

“Never thought I’d be so happy to see daylight again,” I said to Ruby.

She looked up, beaming (literally), and upon turning back to me, agreed. “It has been so unbelievably long,” she said.

Just then, her face suddenly contorted to a look of shock as her eyes resumed their traditional headlamp style, and twin golden beams shot out directly at me, coiling around each other like a pair of snakes in love… or a double helix, whichever simile you prefer. It only took a split-second for them to hit me.

As I was enveloped in the warm gold blast, I wish I could say I was calm and ready, but that would be a lie. I was terrified. The golden light grew in intensity until it turned white, so much so I couldn’t see anything. I shut my eyes to keep from going blind. I thought I might have heard Ruby say “I’m sorry”, but I couldn’t confirm it.

A whoosh of magical wind, and then my entire world went black.

Chapter Seven: Destiny Denied

When I opened my eyes, I found myself in a world the likes of which I’ve never seen before or since. All around me, cirrus clouds whipped by amidst a background of purple and brown, punctuated here and there by intangible formations spanning every possible colour of the rainbow, plus some colours outside the spectrum: nebulae in all their glory laid out before me stretching off into forever. Far off in the distance, I saw the little lights of faraway stars twinkling away. Or might they have been galaxies? Despite the fact that infinity fanned out in every direction, including below, it still felt like I was on solid ground, even though I couldn’t see anything of the sort. I patted myself to check if I was still alive, then facehoofed because obviously a ghost can touch herself; Ruby proved that.

Ruby. I looked around and saw no sign of her. My breathing quickened. I really didn’t want my new friend to be dead… or, I mean, dead dead.

I sat down upon the nothingness, lost in my thoughts, so I never noticed the orb of pulsating white light slowly approaching me.

A gust of cosmic wind startled me out of my stupor. Looking up, I saw the giant light-ball dissipate, fading to reveal the form of someone I had met before, not too long ago.

“Princess Celestia!” I exclaimed in complete shock.

Celestia smiled that serene smile we all know she likes to use as she looked down at me and replied simply, “Hello, Antonovka. It is wonderful to see you again. And might I say that is an exquisite flowery perfume you are wearing.”

“Uh, can’t say I know what you’re talkin’ about,” I said, “But, do ya mind tellin’ me where I am an’ what I’m doin’ here?”

Celestia appeared to ignore my question. “When we met many moons ago in Canterlot, I had a feeling there was something special about you. Lo and behold, you proved it. I am so proud of you.”

I cocked my head. “What’re ya talkin’ about, Princess?”

“That monster you defeated was a remnant of my dear sister’s corrupt and jaded heart, a final spell that I cannot be certain she even knew she cast, which has spent the past three quarters of a millennium warping Everfree into the twisted region we all dread to this day. You destroyed the source of the Forest’s Corruption, and thus its spread. For that, you have my sincerest gratitude,” Celestia said.

“Hold on now,” I finally interrupted her. “I didn’t… couldn’t… defeat that thing on my own. Ruby helped me, so… Why ain’t she here?”

Celestia hung her head low. “I hold no dominion over spirits, and hers appears to have faded.”

“No…” I whispered, devastated.

“Now, now,” Celestia corrected, lifting her head slightly. “I said faded, not vanished. It is possible she returned to her original domain.”

“Yeah, speakin’ of which, mind tellin’ me what in the hay you did to Sunny Town?”

Celestia sighed, her face crestfallen. “It was an unfortunate accident. When they murdered your friend in cold blood – out of prejudice or simple fear, I cared not – I knew they needed to be punished. My curse was only meant to last for one month; I never expected The Corruption to piggyback on my magic to consume the village and twist its residents.”

“Why didn’t you try to stop it?” I asked, probably more pointedly than I should have.

“As an enchantment created by Luna during our falling out, The Corruption is uniquely harmful to me,” Celestia explained. “Today marks the first time since shortly after the War that I have been able to enter Everfree at all, but even at this time I doubt I would be able to survive there for more than a few minutes. Although you defeated The Corruption’s source, it lingers still in the soil, rocks, and plants of the Forest. I cannot say when or if it will ever fully dissipate and allow ponies to inhabit the area again.”

I nodded, deciding for the moment not to tell her about the Moon Cultists. “I guess that makes sense.”

Celestia raised herself back to her full height, adopting a broad smile. “Now I would be remiss if I did not reward you for your bravery. I bestow upon you the most Honourable of Honours: the Rite of Tridevi.”

“What’re ya talkin’ about?” I asked, cocking my head.

At that, I felt myself being lifted up into the air, assuming the space I was in counted as such. As I looked around me, shocked and terrified while Celestia maintained her standard regal poise, I felt a piece of myself somewhere near my heart rip itself from my chest. I only had a split second to look at the amorphous lump of green before it began swirling around my body like a wonky comet, then like an electron. As it accelerated, it glowed ever brighter, and I lost the ability to follow it by sight. Eventually the light from the green blob became overwhelming; I reluctantly shut my eyes. Then, it must have smacked back into me, because I felt this indescribable jolt of magical force and energy strong enough to knock me for a total loop. Not exactly sure what happened immediately after that, but I think I slowly wafted back to whatever counted for floor in that weird interstice place and promptly passed out for a minute or ten.

When I came to, still dizzy, I struggled to my feet. Celestia was still standing before me, a beaming smile on her face. Whatever her happiness was, I couldn’t share in it; my head and sides hurt like the dickens.

“Ugh,” I said. “Whatever that was, it sure packed a wallop.”

“Look to your side and you will see,” replied Celestia.

As I turned my head to my right, a sharp and sudden discomfort shot through my shoulders as a pair of massive green wings unfurled. It took me a minute to realize they were attached to me. I had to prod one and feel the sensation of its involuntary twitch to confirm it.

“Princess, why do I have wings? What in Eque…?”

My head still hurt. I brought my hoof up to rub my forehead when it came into contact with something that should not have been there: a Unicorn’s Horn.

I had been transformed into an Alicorn.

“Congratulations, Princess Antonovka!” Celestia said, clear joy in her voice. “You have earned this honour for your service to Equestria!”

“Huh?” I huh’d. “Wait, now. So… you’re sayin’ I’m like you?”

“Yes… and no,” Celestia explained, and I use that term loosely. “It has been many centuries since last I created a new Princess. It is not a process undertaken lightly. Indeed, you are the very first Earth-pony to be Ascended. Of course, you are not a demigoddess like myself or my poor sister. Ascended ponies retain a lifespan comparable to regular ponies. Nonetheless, you are a Princess by right. You shall possess authority, dominion over a Land, and of course a title. In your case I feel ‘Princess of Courage’ will do nicely.”

“Mirror, please,” I asked Celestia. She quickly summoned one so I could see myself. I had grown noticeably taller, maybe rivalling my brothers. My new wings were still unfurled; it took a lot of concentration to fold them against my sides. As for my horn, I decided to see if I could use it. An aura the same orange colour as my eyes enveloped it… and a tiny ball of orange light shot from it and ricocheted off the mirror into the great unknown.

I turned back toward Celestia. She was chuckling.

“You will be a great Princess indeed,” she said.

I rubbed my Horn as memories of those cruel Unicorns in Canterlot danced in my head. I was one of them now. No. I was better than them. I was always better than them, morally, but now they would have to respect me. To say I still held a grudge against Unicorns as a race would be a massive understatement. It made me sick to my stomach to think I had become even somewhat like them. And what about my family? They would surely be jealous or even look down on me for this. Especially Ma. I imagined a lifetime of snide remarks from her as I tried to go about my daily life, assuming it would stay the same which was absolutely not guaranteed. I envisioned the very ponies who threw rotten fruit at us as we stood on jailed display, kowtowing to me out of respect; whether it was legitimate or feigned didn’t matter.

I sighed as I gathered up the courage to tell Celestia something she never in her long life expected to hear: “I don’t want it.”

Her smile dropped, replaced by a look of total confusion. “What?”

“I don’t wanna be a Princess, Princess.”

“But… why not?” Celestia asked, legitimately concerned. “You have done more than enough to earn the title.”

I shook my head. “I couldn’t have done a thing without Ruby’s help.”

“And I would gladly Ascend her as well, were she living,” replied Celestia.

“That’s not the point,” I said. “Princess. I’m just a farm gal. I ain’t some frou-frou Canterlot Noble that’s got delusions of grandeur or knows how to lead anyone. All I wanted to do was get what I came for, go home, and get on with my life.”

“You… are truly rejecting your mantle?” asked Celestia, clearly bewildered.

I nodded. “Eeyup. Look, I know ya mean well, and I appreciate the thought, but… I’m not Princess material, far’s I know myself.”

Celestia looked at me sadly. “It is said that the best leaders are the ones who wish not the position, for they understand its burdens and therefore possess the humility to avoid becoming tyrannical. It is a balance that I myself have failed many times.”

“I understand, but I still don’t want this,” I insisted. Turn me back into me and let’s forget this ever happened.”

“Very well,” said Celestia glumly. “Have you any proclamations you wish to decree before your mandate ends?”

I thought for a moment. Then my eyes lit up. “Actually… yeah I do. I lost Ma’s ladle in the fight so she needs a new one. Could ya do that?”

“You are serious,” Celestia asked flatly. “A ladle.”

“Yep,” I nodded. “She’d tan my hide if I came home without one.”

“In that case, I will… have a new one delivered to your home forthwith.”

“Thanks,” I said with a little smile. “Oh! And, uh, would ya mind leavin’ the Moon Cultists alone for a bit? They were friendly…ish to me an’ Ruby, and they’re kinda tired of bein’ hunted.”

Celestia’s expression flipped to one of shock. “The Order still exists? That is news to me. Very well. Perhaps they should be left to themselves; their dogged preservation of the True History may eventually prove fortuitous.”

“Wait,” I said. “So all the nasty things they said about you and the lead-up to the War…?”

“Indeed,” admitted Celestia. “I allowed myself to be commandeered by the shortsighted whims of lesser ponies and, in so doing, placed a unbearable burden on my sister. I had to defeat her. However, even seven hundred fifty years on, the guilt gnaws at me every day.”

“Can’t say I blame ya,” I said as I patted Celestia on her leg, since even with a slight increase in my height, she still towered over me. “If I had to kick one of my brothers off our farm, I’d feel mighty awful ‘bout it even if it wasn’t my fault.”

Celestia smiled wanly. “I appreciate your sentiment. Are you certain you have no other requests before I cast the Descension spell?”

I sighed. “The only thing I want is the one thing you can’t do.”

“I am sorry about your friend,” said Celestia as she placed a hoof on my shoulder to try to console me. “But she lives on in your heart, just as the scores of bosom friends who predeceased me live in mine, kept forever in my memories. And, as I said, she may re-form.”

“I hope so.”

“Now, I have never attempted this spell before. It may feel unpleasant,” Celestia warned as she touched her horn to mine.

That was an understatement. It hurt like the fires of Tartarus as my body contracted in on itself, bones merging and fusing with the ones already there. I could feel immense pressure on the frontal lobe of my brain as my horn melted back into my forehead. Everything felt like I was being crushed. It was a thousand times more painful than the Ascension spell. But, within just a couple of minutes, it was all over. Celestia sadly showed me the mirror, where I saw a normal Earth-pony once again.

“Thank you, Princess,” I said as I bowed to her.

She sighed. “I am disappointed, in both of us. Yet, perhaps this is for the best.”

“I think so,” I said. “I’m not an ambitious pony. All I want’s to get back to my family, farm our apple orchard, and eventually raise a family of my own. It’s a simple life, sure, but it’ll be mine.”

Celestia nodded. “Your words are wiser than you realize. Now, shall I escort you to your homestead?”

“That’d be great,” I replied.

A simple charge of her golden aura bathed us in an orb of light that rushed us through the heavens, or wherever it was we were, at speeds that would make a Wonderbolt wince. After some thirty seconds, I could see Equestria, the outline of the Everfree Forest and a tiny spark of yellow light deep within it. Then, just past its edge across the river, a clearing with a small log cabin: my home.

We came to a stop outside the perimeter fence and slowly lowered, touching down on the dirt as lightly as a feather. Once sure of my own footing, I walked through the open gate, turning back to take what I assumed would be my last look at the Princess. She smiled and bowed her head deeply. Then, with a flash of light and a sound like the cracking of a whip, she disappeared.

I approached my house with trepidation, because I knew I was returning empty-hoofed. Still, I figured my family was likely worried about me, so I entered the cabin with a simple “Hi, I’m back.” My parents and brothers, after a brief shock, nearly knocked me over in a group hug.

Ma was mad at me about losing the ladle, but she calmed down somewhat when a box arrived the next day from Canterlot via royal guard containing a full supply of kitchen equipment and, as a bonus, canning jars.

So, with that, I resumed my normal life. Nothing interesting would ever happen to me again.

…I assumed…

Chapter Eight: Accolade

After arriving home from my little adventure, which turned out to have taken over three days because, like I said, time has little meaning in that place, my life quickly settled into the routine rut of a farm-girl. Ma was, of course, angry at me for leaving the homestead and also for losing our ladle; she didn’t care one bit about the circumstances, only that it was gone for good. The delivery via Royal Courier the next day of an entire box full of kitchen equipment including canning jars mollified her a little. But only a little.

I never told my parents or my brothers one word about what I discovered in the Forest. I didn’t want to scare them …and they’d never have believed me anyway. Plus, despite being a fully-grown mare (if barely), Ma probably would have made me cut a switch and flagellate myself like an errant Tarpanite foal.

I would not venture into the Everfree Forest again in any of their lifetimes, even though part of me always wanted to. But, I held back. I suppose ignorance can be bliss sometimes. Ask yourself which would hurt more: learning your friend sacrificed her (after)life for you and was gone forever, or never knowing the answer either way? To this day, I wouldn’t be able to tell you.

Speaking of the Forest, from that point forward, Timberwolves rarely trespassed on our land again, the frequency of their appearances dwindling over time until eventually the only continued proof of their existence was their menacing yet melancholy howling far in the distance.

You know apple trees bear fruit in the Fall. Imagine our shock when those funky Forest apple seeds I’d planted sprouted fully grown gnarly trees in an instant, complete with bolts of lightning, in early Spring, then a few days later (also in an instant) put out giant rainbow apples. I named them Zap-Apples for the literally electric way they sprout on what seems like a whim, unconnected to any calendar I know of. Over the next couple years, I experimented with them to see what in the world I could do with them to bring in some extra income for our family. Eventually, I figured out how to make it into a tasty jam. The unique combination of tart and sweet varying by colour would no doubt be a hit with ponies, I felt, so we decided on our next market trip we should bring a few jars to sell.

Now normally in those days, when even the national roads were poor quality and the very idea of a locomotive was laughable, one would venture by wagon to the nearest market town. In our case that should have been Canterlot, as we could literally see Equus Mountain and (on a clear day) the spires of Celestia’s palace from Pomme Hill just behind our cabin. But, thanks to the chilly reception the Unicorn Nobility still gave us there, we sold our wares in the next nearest place: Detrot, three days northwest of our homestead, two at a gallop.

Back then, Detrot was a bustling boomtown with a cosmopolitan population. It was still over a century before Count Skinflint would revolutionize wagon production on a massive scale. Nonetheless, a healthy industry of hoof-made wagons existed alongside the farms which still stretched across the landscape, their wares destined for the Grand Market in the middle of the carrefour in the heart of the city. Any crop you could imagine, within reason depending on the season, could be found in its stalls.

Such a pity what happened to Detrot later on, but that’s a story for another time.

As we sold our Zap-Apple products, ponies were at first skeptical. Can’t really blame them, since nothing like it had ever been seen before. But, as soon as we convinced some of the local Nobility (sigh) to try them, they used their influence to steer business our way. Once we sold everything we had, and we always sold out, we would spend a day or two wandering the market for goods to improve our homestead.

Sometimes, if I had time after the market day, I would explore central Detrot. Most of the sights I saw are long gone, victims of modernization and decay. I'm sure that includes one from a peculiar incident.

In the Summer of 753AB, we were in Detrot’s Grand Market having yet again sold out of my special jam. I decided to wander around alone for a bit. Ma was in no mood to move, obviously, so she kept watch over our stall. I didn’t take any money with me (that was Pa’s prerogative). Some youthful freedom.

As I found myself exiting the market area, I felt a presence behind me, following me. I turned to see in the shadowy alleyway next to one of Detrot’s many theatres a mare wearing a familiar navy blue hooded robe. I immediately made a beeline for her. She did not run, though she did step back in shock and so I wouldn’t smack into her, which I nearly did.

Sure enough, she was a Moon Cultist. Not only that, she looked kinda familiar. The feeling was mutual as she examined my cutie-mark.

“Hmm… a single apple blossom at the tip of a branch,” she said, more to herself than me. “You are Antonovka, yes?”

I nodded. “Eeyup. Pretty sure I’ve seen you somewhere, haven’t I?”

“Indeed,” she replied with a smile. “I am Kharon, the Missionaries’ recruiter for Pegasus ponies. We met briefly in the Valley. It is a pleasure to see you again.”

“Yeah. So… why’re ya here in Detrot? Yeah it may be a mixed city, but still ain’t too many Pegasi here.”

She tilted her head. “Recruitment is still my reason for being, and the situation in the Cloudsdale Chiefdom is becoming dicier by the day as Chief Nimbus Dash refuses The Sun Princess’s offer of suzerainty. In addition, I am in charge of protecting Japetus, for he so rarely leaves the Forest but needed to undertake an important mission. I believe …it involved finding you. At least that is one thing he mentioned.”

“That fella. Really.” I deadpanned. “Well, take me to ‘im.”

Kharon led me down the alley which turned off into an even narrower darker alley. We stopped at a wooden tenement that looked like it was rundown from the day it was built. She pushed open the creaky door and led me into the front room, announcing in her breathy voice, “I have found her.”

Out of the darkness strolled Japetus. He looked, if anything, more corrupted than ever, his coat having faded almost totally to grey and his eyes as unnatural as ever. He slowly looked me over with a neutral pondering frown, as if to confirm my identity. Once he was satisfied, he suddenly reared back and punched me in the face. Who knew the old Unicorn had such a strong right hook? It sent me tumbling across the room. After I regained my senses, I could see Kharon staring at him in utter shock as he had regained his normal emotionless bearing like nothing had happened.

“What the hay?!?” I yelled as I hopped to my feet and began pawing the floor ready to charge. “Sucker punchin’ me like that! I oughtta…”

“That was for allowing the Sun Princess to learn of our existence and our sanctuary. Alas, it was all the fight I had in me. If you wish to retaliate, you may,” he said with absolute conviction.

“I will never understand you as long as I live,” I told him, shaking my head and spitting out a tiny amount of blood onto the floor. “Hang on. The Princess didn’t force y’all out, did she? ‘Cause I flat-out told her to not do that.”

“She did not,” he replied. “In fact, one of her Royal Guards intruded upon our home to inform us that, by virtue of your efforts, the Edict of Heresy has been lifted. Our desire to inform you of this was the primary reason I decided to return to my native land.”

“Detrot is your hometown?!” Kharon and I both exclaimed in unison.

He gave a quick nod. “Does that surprise you?”

“Actually… yes,” said Kharon before I could. “You… have the bearing of a Canterlot native.”

Japetus narrowed his eyes. “I am unsure how to interpret that.”

“If ya wish ta retaliate, ya may,” I snipped at him.

He scoffed with a slight grin. “Perhaps Lady Rhea has been correct about me all these years. Anyway, not all Unicorns come from or live in Canterlot, just like how not all Pegasi hail from or live in the Cloudsdale Chiefdom.”

“Uh-huh. Y’all couldn’t have sent Rhea instead?”

“She cannot leave the Forest,” he replied, “for she fears adverse effects on her health. Indeed, natural light has proved harmful to me in the short time I have been away, which is the reason for my staying in this hovel. Plus, I do not wish to frighten ponies; that would be counterproductive to the goals of our Order.”

I rolled my eyes. “So then what do y’all want with me? I got the Princess to lay off ya. We ain’t got no more business together, far’s I can tell.”

“Incorrect,” he replied. “Lady Rhea requested that, were I to find you, I must inform you that… *sigh* …due to your heroic efforts in both ameliorating the Corruption and allowing our Order to again operate openly, you have earned the ranking of High Priestess. That makes you,” his tone switched from one of boredom to one of irritation, “third in rank, behind Lady Rhea and Madame Callisto.”

Now that made me smile. “I see. Yer ticked ‘cause they made me outrank ya? Look, y’know I don’t want or need any such thing.”

“You swore the Oath. That makes you one of Us, for-ever. Your title stands even if you refuse it,” he said.

I shrugged. “Fair enough. I ain’t goin’ back to the Valley though. I… don’t think I can.”

“It is understandable. I regret to inform you we have yet to see any sign of the Spirit of Light, though certainly we hope for her return as much as you do,” he said, head hung low.

“Well, I ain’t really shocked. Uh, one more question that’s been buggin’ me…” I said.

“For three years?” he asked.

“Yeah. How’ve y’all been able to live right under the most corrupted part of the Forest and still stay sane? At least by Moon Cultist standards,” I asked.

Japetus nodded sagely. “There was not enough time to inform you then, and I suppose Madame Callisto was more focused on the past so it slipped her mind. Further in, the Valley becomes a cave, for not all of its roof was destroyed. At the very back stands a strange tree, white and petrified, that emits a warm ambient light. We believe this tree is a natural source of positive magic and allows us to keep our selves, though it is also wrapped in thorny black vines which largely cancel out its aura, thus we feel physical effects of the Forest anyway. Madame Callisto warns all to stay away due to the dark plant entwining it.”

“I see,” I said, not really understanding. “If that’s all y’all want with me, then I think I’ll be on my way.”

“Hold on,” Kharon said, stopping me.

As I cocked my head in confusion, Japetus levitated a medal emblazoned with the crest of the Missionaries of the Moon to me and slipped it under my bonnet.

“Know the Scorched Valley shall forever be open to you, High Priestess Antonovka,” he said.

“Uh-huh,” I replied, waving a forehoof as I turned, not looking back. “Good luck on y’all’s recruiting or whatever.”

I exited the ramshackle building and rejoined the world of the living, eager to get back to my folks and try to put that bizarre encounter out of my mind.

Chapter Nine: Family

During our trips to the Detrot Grand Market, Ma, Pa, and I were always on the hunt for things we could buy to improve our home after we’d sold out of our jam. My older brothers, however, were on the hunt for something else entirely.

And they found them. Manx Conlin met this nice mare from the Pyrus Clan, an Earth-pony named Forelle, daughter of D’Anjou, who ran a pear stand on the other side of the market. She was a beauty, I’ll give her that: gold with a pale green mane. Both were headstrong and believed in the value of a hard day’s work… and a hard night’s play, as we later found out. After a couple years of courtship …yes, we still did courtship in those days; don’t laugh… they got married and had a foal, Bartlett. Unfortunately for us, he also decided to ‘abandon’ us and set up with her family, as old farmer D’Anjou was not in the best of health even then. Ma was so angry over losing her oldest son and strongest worker that she banned anyone else in our family from ever courting any member of the Pyrus Clan, forever.

It took several generations, but you know how that edict eventually turned out. In hindsight, I regret going along with Ma’s insanity, generations after she was gone. Terrifying old nag.

Nickajack, meanwhile, was forced by circumstance to remain on the farm to help out our parents, which he probably would have done anyway even if Manx hadn’t left. During Manx’s courtship period, Nick met this sweet Earth-pony (race-mixing wasn’t really a thing back then) from Deer-Bourne, a tiny village outside Detrot. She was named Sweetgum, the youngest daughter of a family of hay farmers, only a few years older than me. Despite her strength and work ethic, her family was overburdened with too many ponies for one farm to sustain, so they were more than happy to have her move to our homestead once the courtship period ended in a wedding. I was glad to have another mare in the house besides Ma.

As for myself, well, I met many stallions, did more than a few things with them you’re still too young to know about. I would say this even if you’d been on this planet half a century. Yet despite several wanting to court me, I never found any of them worthy of my total devotion. So I stayed on the farm, working with jams and baked goods, increasingly taking over other household duties for Ma, since she never fully healed from that injury three years earlier and tended to give all of us the short end of the stick, more so as she got older. Luckily for everyone, Sweetgum and I hit it off right away; she quickly became my best friend in addition to my sister-in-law. However, she never could quite get the hang of my kitchen experiments. No one could. Pa would joke in his increasingly gravelly voice that I was an apple alchemist.

Time passed.

As our wares, including the home-brewed cider which was my idea, became more popular in the Detrot market, word about us passed to other villages and towns around the region. It would take time for Sweet’s kids to set up working farms elsewhere and the best recipes were still with me, plus we simply did not have the means then to travel to many other market towns without neglecting our own farm, so we decided to start keeping more business at home and encouraging ponies to come to us. Much to our shock, some did. Lured by a combination of a first crack at our wares and the area’s excellent soil (plus a tax break from Celestia’s increasingly centralized government for choosing to live so close to the still-dangerous Everfree Forest), a disparate group of Earth-ponies founded the village we now call home just a mile upstream from our land grant, nearer Canterlot. We were glad to have the company, although we were often too busy working to do much socializing with the newcomers, which might explain why our family has retained a dialect that never much existed in town.

It was an absolutely normal life, punctuated by the rush to preserve food for each winter, and the occasional birth of Nick and Sweet’s foals. They ended up having seven; you could say those loved each other very much. Five colts and two fillies. Didn’t take as much of a toll on her body as one would expect, probably due to her working outside whenever she wasn’t raising them, although a lot of that work was left to me, as I spent much of my day inside anyway. Over that period, we added on rooms to that little log cabin to make room for a growing family until it had become something quite beyond the shack it originally was. Sweetgum’s youngest daughter, named Apple Cobbler for her colouring, turned out to also have a knack for cooking. So, I began training her in the ways of the kitchen: making jams, pastries, vegetable stew, and of course working with those bizarre rainbow apples that can be so temperamental but so worth it.

The thing about having such a regular schedule, you might call it a rut and you wouldn’t be wrong, is that you tend to lose track of time. The days pass into weeks, which pass into months (or moons if you prefer) which bleed into years. Eventually it becomes impossible to tell what happened exactly which year. Ma grew older and crankier, to the point that Sweetgum and I felt it best to keep the foals away from her on her bad days, which increased as time moved ever forward. The foals grew up, as foals do, into fine mares and stallions. A couple stayed on the farm, including Apple Cobbler and Sweet’s oldest son Ribston Pippin, but the rest left to set up in other parts of Equestria, leading to our far-flung extended family. In days without mail service, trains, or any other means of quickly sending information short of hiring a Pegasus courier (which we couldn’t afford), we resolved that the entire family, including Manx’s descendants if they had apple cutie-marks, should meet up at our farmstead once every few years in our family reunion tradition that continues to this day.

During one of these reunions, in 785AB I think, after Ma finally passed and Pa wasn’t long from doing the same, I was working with Sweetgum prepping the next day’s feast, and I noticed she was showing her age. Well, raising seven foals to adulthood and then taking charge of the business side of our farming – Nick was never great at numbers; that’s one of many reasons she was his ideal companion – must’ve finally taken their toll on her. I asked her if she was feeling okay. Much to my surprise, she narrowed her eyes at me in irritation.

“Of course I’m not okay, Annie,” groused Sweetgum. “I’m getting old. I’m already a grandmother twice over with another on the way. Even Cobbler has been checking out some of the stallions from the new village; within a couple years she might be popping out foals. My joints are starting to hurt and my eyesight isn’t as clear as it used to be.”

“Well, that happens to all of us,” I replied.

“Not to you,” she snipped. “Annie, you look like you’ve barely aged a day since we first met over thirty years ago. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were barely out of your teens.”

I cocked my head in confusion. “Well, you know I ain’t much younger than you, Sweets. Maybe I’m just aging gracefully by staying inside doing most of the housework instead of kickin’ trees.”

Sweetgum shook her head. “There’s aging gracefully, then there’s you, Annie. I really do like you. I’m happy we’re ‘kin’. But I can’t help but feel jealous every time I look at you now. And it hurts.”

Slowly, I stood up from the workbench we were at, slowly plodding my way back into our home, through the living/dining room, towards Sweetgum’s room. She had brought back a mirror during one of her trips to the Grand Market and set it up at the end of the hallway extension. Since I still used the bedroom in the original part of the house, I rarely went further in. Apple Cobbler did the cleaning everywhere but the kitchen, so I’d never cared about the mirror. After all, when you work from dawn ‘til dusk, why worry about your appearance? But that day I decided to give myself a look-over.

Sweetgum was right. I looked like a mare in her early twenties at the latest, possibly younger, despite being past fifty. It’s no exaggeration to say I was shocked at my own appearance. Sure, I had birthed no foals (not for lack of effort on several stallions’ parts), but that could not explain away a complete and total lack of aging. I was absolutely flummoxed.

I also knew there was only one pony I could turn to to give me an answer.

I packed some provisions, including that medal thing the Moon Cultists gave me, still untarnished after so long. I’d kept it hidden. Didn’t want any of the family asking questions.

Briefly rejoining the mounting festivities, I told Sweetgum truthfully I needed to make an emergency trip to Canterlot, giving her a hug and saying that I would hopefully be back before the reunion was over.

That did not happen.

Chapter Ten: The Promise

Canterlot was just as stuffy and stuck-up as it had been so many decades earlier. Oh sure, more streets had been paved, more buildings had been built away from the Royal Mile road, putting the place closer to the look it has and character it attempts today: a “grand and glorious” city built into a mountain by the power of hubris. It had taken what seemed like forever to make it to the city gates on hoof but, once inside, it took almost no time at all to traverse the entire length of the Royal Mile to the Celestial Palace, its majesty absolutely unchanged.

As I approached, I began to realize the position I’d placed myself in. What was I going to do? Knock on the gate and just ask nicely for an audience with Celestia? That would be absolutely insane.

It was also exactly what I did.

As you can imagine, the pure white Pegasus guards in their gold-coloured armour eyed me with all the regard one gives a cockroach. I would have pleaded my case, but I did not know what case I had to plea. Eventually, I settled on telling the guards I had been cursed… which for all I knew may have been true… and was hoping to see Celestia or one of her Court Wizards for help. That somehow got them to let me pass, though one of the guards stuck by my side, clearly concerned that I might be a danger to Celestia. Silly, when you think about it: a little mare like me a threat to a giant Alicorn demigoddess. Still, I’ve seen stranger things happen.

The guard guided me through the palace to some antechamber where he asked my name. I gave him my full one: Antonovka ni Rosales da Malus. He narrowed his eyes and snarled menacingly upon hearing it. I apologized for my despised heritage and swore I was no threat to anyone. I think he took the obvious fear in my eyes as evidence I was telling the truth and brusquely said he would find someone in the palace willing to see me.

They left me in that room for what felt like, and probably was, hours. It had no clock or windows of any kind, so I was completely cut off from all semblance of time. I decided to take a nap. I don’t know how long I was in that dreamless sleep …maybe fifteen minutes, maybe three hours, but eventually a knock on the door shook me back to consciousness. Literally, as I fell off the velvet couch on which I had been resting, landing on the marble floor with an unceremonious plop. The medal given to me by the Missionaries of the Moon flew out of its safekeeping spot under my bonnet and bounced across the room, eventually sliding underneath a vanity.

I got up on my hooves to open the door but there was no need. A golden aura surrounded the handle and it opened on its own, revealing Celestia herself. She looked exactly the same as I remembered her from the last two times we had met. She eyed me suspiciously. No doubt she met with hundreds of ponies every single day, so I figured the likelihood she’d recall a farm pony like me, even considering that encounter in the Forest, was remote to nil. But then she allowed her pursed lips to shift into a warm smile. Genuine, as it reached her eyes.

“Hello, Antonovka. It has been a while,” Celestia said.

I was flabbergasted. “Y-you remember me, Princess?”

Celestia stared at me in confusion. “How could I not?” she asked. “You are a Heroine of Equestria, even if you refused such an Honour. Regardless, I am glad to see you again after so many years. How long has it been?”

“At least thirty years, Princess,” I replied.

She nodded, “Time has been most kind to you then,” she said without even a hint of sarcasm.

“Uh, yeah. About that,” I interjected.

Celestia tilted her head. “About what?”

“Well, look at me!” I said, maybe a bit more loudly than I should have, motioning to my own body. “It’s been over three decades and I ain’t aged a day. I literally look younger than my sister-in-law’s oldest son! What’s going on?”

For the first time ever, I saw Celestia look genuinely puzzled. “I… do not know. I removed the Ascension Spell at your request but, even had I not, it would not have had this effect. As I said during our sojourn in the Interstice, Ascended Alicorns live lifespans equivalent to regular ponies. I know this because I witnessed the last one pass centuries ago.”

“What about you?” I asked.

“I am intrinsically and indelibly linked to the Sun. As long as it shines, so shall I. The same holds for my dear sister imprisoned in the Moon. Yes, that tale is truth. Thus, regarding our Attributes: once we became as we are, always shall we be. Does that make sense?”

I nodded. Didn’t have the heart to tell her it made no sense whatsoever. Only after a bit of thinking later did I understand what she meant.

“Perhaps an evaluation is in order. Come,” she said politely but firmly as she magicked open the doors to the waiting chamber. “I will accompany you.”

It wasn’t until we had strolled down the corridor and through the grand throne room with its high vaulted ceiling, far fewer stained glass windows along the wall than today (most were clear), and had reached a small stone door without handle or latch hidden behind a tapestry to the right of the throne if facing it, that I felt courage to ask Celestia, “Where?”

She did not answer immediately. Instead, she tapped a short rhythm on the middle of the door, whereupon it slowly opened, revealing a dark passage which led to an ancient stairway snaking downward into the bowels of the castle… or, given its length, into Equus Mountain itself. Using her horn as a light source as she ducked inside, she beckoned me to follow her.

The passage was taller than I expected. Of course it had to be since it was clearly designed to accommodate Celestia’s height. Still, it felt cramped once she pushed a wall-torch which activated a pulley system to shut the stone door behind us, severing us totally from the sunlight. I hadn’t felt such a longing for its light since Everfree. Instantly, memories of that long night, repressed for so many years, came flooding back. I wondered if Ruby existed. I wondered about the Moon Cultists; I’d neither seen nor heard from them since our chance encounter in Detrot way back when. Sure, Celestia had lifted the Heresy-Ban against them, allowing them to operate openly, but had she changed her mind in the meantime despite promising me to my face she’d leave them alone? I know to you and most everyone else in this realm it feels almost treasonous to question her word, but those were my thoughts as we slowly trudged deeper into the oppressive dark. Eventually it became difficult to breathe due to the staleness of the air, random particles of nothing just suspended amidst the gloom until we moved through them while breathing.

I would never be able to tell you how long that tunnel was or how far we descended, but eventually it bottomed out into a short, straight passage. Celestia allowed her light spell to flit off the tip of her horn. It floated in midair as an ethereal golden orb for a moment before splitting into four mini-orbs, which set themselves into four torches, two on each side of the passage, and lit up the place, flickering like actual firelight. Nice effect.

A few yards beyond us sat a large wooden door with no handle built into a makeshift vaulted archway. At a glance, it looked solid and heavy. On it, at my eye level, was a sign written in runes, so of course I couldn’t read a word of it. To the left of the door was a tiny cobweb-covered alcove with a stone plinth. On top of that sat a small purple velvet pillow cushioning two brilliant gold rings: one small, one large.

Celestia levitated the large ring toward me. It wobbled strangely as she did so, as if it had its own will and did not want to be levitated.

“Please slip this on,” she told me. “You must wear it in order to enter.”

“Why?” I asked. “Can’t you just magic that thing open?”

“No Magic Will Open This Door,” replied Celestia firmly, as if quoting from something.

I stared at Celestia. Perhaps the concern and skepticism registered on my face more than I intended, as she brushed it off with a reassuring smile. “Do not worry,” she said. “No harm will come to you.”

I slipped the giant ring onto my right forehoof. It was a bit large for me; it could have easily fit a full-grown stallion. But, as soon as it made contact with me, it contracted to fit perfectly. Well, whatever will this thing had, at least it was considerate, although I suddenly felt a bit… fuzzy, like I was untethered from the world and my senses had been dulled.

“If you would please push open the door for us,” said Celestia.

I walked up to the heavy door, a bit unsure on my own four feet, and applied some amount of pressure to it with my ringed forehoof. Much to my surprise, it swung open slowly but effortlessly, like its hinges were perfectly balanced to minimize friction… y’know, that thing that makes you stop whenever you’re sliding on the ground after tripping while running.

Beyond the doorway was an enormous chamber at least twenty feet high. The instant I opened the door, the entire place lit up courtesy of a dozen table lamps, some wall torches, and a simple chandelier stuck into the ceiling. Along one edge of the chamber, for only a few feet, a small cave creek flowed in and just as quickly exited to who knew where. Much of the area was nicely decorated with fine rugs, tapestries, and tables. It was also filled to the brim with seemingly random items, tchotchkes, wooden models, two ornate floor mirrors one of which had the shape of an inverted horseshoe, various unidentifiable things on pedestals, and thousands upon thousands of parchment scrolls. Many of the scrolls were rolled up inside traditional diamond-shaped holders, but several lay open on tables, some next to long-dried inkwells with quills sticking out of them.

After staring in wonder at the place for a moment, during which time Celestia strolled into the chamber as if she owned it (which, it being underneath her castle, I suppose she did and does) I made my way through, almost tiptoeing.

Celestia noticed. “What are you doing?” she asked.

That sent me back to reality. “Huh? Oh, sorry. I was just… takin’ a gander at this place. I’ve never seen anything like it before. Sorta get the feeling like I just stepped into a time capsule. Kinda like when I, uh, met the Order in the Forest.” I said that last bit softly and quickly.

Celestia nodded. “In a way, it is. This is the personal work chamber of Starswirl The Bearded.”

“Who?” I asked, feeling very stupid.

“Oh, right,” Celestia said with a sigh as she facehoofed. “You are not only an Earth-pony, but also descended from Tarpanites; it was unfair for me to assume you would know of him. Apologies.” She cleared her throat. “Starswirl was the greatest sorcerer Equestia ever had. He spent his life studying magic in all its forms to discover its potentials and limits, creating dozens of new spells in the process. He was also a dear friend of mine who left this world far too soon.”

“I’m sorry,” I told her, “It’s never fun to lose a friend young.”

Celestia shook her head. “No, no. He lived a long life, as I am sure you can tell by all those scrolls he wrote and items he collected or created. But time waits for no pony or beast. Even at his most advanced age, he still had ideas he tried to write down and theories he wished to see to completion, but his body simply gave out before his mind.”

“Still,” I said, “Losing a friend hurts.”

Slowly, she nodded in agreement. “I have not entered this chamber in over seven hundred fifty years, shortly after he left this world. It has lain untouched since then, placed in a sort of magical stasis to keep his life’s works from rotting away, waiting for the day a worthy successor would show.”

“Princess, that ain’t me an’ you know it,” I said.

She chuckled. “It is not you, Antonovka. When that pony does appear, I will know. No, the reason I brought you here is because one of Starswirl’s scrolls might be able to explain your situation.”

I moved my head around, checking out every cubic foot of the chamber. “Uh, I’m not sure how you’d be able to find anything in here. Starswirl don’t seem to have been the best-organized pony ever.”

“No. He was certainly not,” replied Celestia with a chuckle as she rolled her eyes. “Few geniuses are. However, I knew him for many decades, so I wish to believe I have some insight into his unorthodox organizational style. Let us see…”

She approached, seemingly at random, a low shelf packed full of scrolls and quickly unravelled, glanced at, then re-ravelled and re-shelved each one in turn before moving on to another cache of scrolls. By the time she had worked through the third bunch, I could tell that, despite her attempts to keep up her regal bearing, Celestia was getting annoyed.

I figured it was best to not be near her if she lost her temper. I know; that’s not something you or any pony would expect of her, but you need to understand that, back then, to most ponies, Celestia was more of an idea than a living ruler. She didn’t leave the Palace much in those days, and even when she did she almost always stayed inside Canterlot’s fortifications.

As I lazily glanced along one wall, I noticed something familiar: a blue flower hermetically sealed in a glass case on top of a small pedestal.

“Uh, hey Princess?” I called out to her, loud enough to snap her out of ‘work mode’. She blinked several times as her brain adjusted to shift her demeanour away from annoyance.

“Yes, Antonovka?”

“What’s this blue flower here?” I asked.

She approached me and stared for a couple seconds at the five azure petals and silver-tipped stamens that appeared frozen in time under the glass. “That flower is the Moonlight Blue Orchid, also known colloquially as ‘Poison Joke’. They bloom only at night during the five-day period around the moon’s fullness each month. It was eradicated from Equestria on my orders shortly after the War. Despite knowing its dangerous potential, Starswirl insisted on collecting a specimen to study. Always curious, he was. Why do you ask?”

“Because I ran through an entire clearing full of ‘em while chasin’ that Timberwolf,” I said. “They smelled sweet.”

Celestia’s eyes widened to the point I thought they would pop out of her skull, staring at me like I had sprouted a second head. The only thing she could say was, “What.”

I nodded as I recalled that long night. “Yeah, Ruby was able to float over ‘em, being a ghost and all, bu— Hold on. Whaddaya mean, ‘dangerous’?”

“I-it…” Celestia attempted to say, failed, and then simply sighed as she tried to muster her thoughts. “That flower’s pollen is poisonous to equines. Starswirl believed it was some kind of intrinsic magic. Its effect is unique on each pony based on what appears to be pure whimsy. For example, a Pegasus might end up with her wings flopped upside down, or it might shrink a workhorse, and so on. Worse yet, its effects are delayed, not appearing for at least half a day. I recall the longest period between affliction and manifestation was almost a week. While there is a cure for its effects thanks to Starswirl obtaining assistance from a few Zebra alchemists he recruited from the Southeastern Frontier, I did not want any pony to even consider the possibility of weaponizing it, should another civil war or border war break out.”

“I can understand that,” I said, remembering a story in the Detrot Dispatch about skirmishes between ponies and gryphons along the northeastern frontier near the large fortified trading post of Stalliongrad, another old city that was much better off then than now.

“And you… ran through a field of them in full bloom, stirring up and inhaling their pollen,” asked Celestia flatly.

“Yep.”

“Shortly before you fought the Spirit of the Corruption and then entered the Interstice.”

“Uh-huh.”

Celestia facehoofed again. “Ple… please take off that ring,” she asked, a twinge of unexpected sadness in her voice.

I removed the gold ring. It slid off effortlessly. Once it no longer touched my body, it enlarged itself back to its original size. Celestia levitated it, with difficulty, to her side.

“Stand in the middle of that working, if you would.” She directed me to an area on the far end of the chamber free of rugs or shelves… or anything besides a stone floor with the most ornate magic circle ever conceived carved into it.

I stood in the middle of the circle, admiring its detail. As I did, Celestia shot a beam at its edge, causing it to glow white as all the other lights in the chamber except for a nearby lamp went out.

Celestia levitated a book bound in green-dyed leather to herself. It had a fern on its cover. She quickly flipped to a specific page, read it, then gently tossed the book away. Then, she filled a tub with water from that stream, moved the tub into the magic circle, levitated me off the floor high enough to slide that tub under me, then let me drop in.

Cave water is cold. If you learn nothing else from my story, learn that.

I stuck my head back out of the water, sputtering and coughing. “Gah! Princess! What’d ya do that fer?” I demanded, my accent getting the better of me.

The look on Celestia’s face was one of clench-jawed determination as she conjured up five or six different herbs from an apothecary’s shelf along a nearby wall and held them over me. I stared at them, absolutely confused.

I was even more confused when she simultaneously spun the water into a floating spinning orb with me in its center, its rotation causing a slight heating effect which would’ve been pleasant if I’d been able to breathe; tossed the herbs into the water, where they quickly dispersed and disappeared, tinting it a very slight green hue; and shot me with some powerful spell. Only Celestia… and Luna now, perhaps Starswirl back when he was around… could perform such powerful simultaneous magic.

Unfortunately for me, all that magic caused me to experience the nastiest pain I’d ever known. It felt like my entire body was being twisted inside out, ripped apart, pulverized, burned, frozen, violated, put back together, plus the fact that I couldn’t breathe because I was still underwater despite hanging five feet in the air. My vision, already blurry, became just spots of every colour you can imagine, plus a few I’m pretty sure you can’t. I have no idea how long I was suspended like that. Maybe it was ten seconds, maybe fifty. Eventually, all at once, the holds placed on me lessened, and I soon felt solid ground underneath me again, and the water orb flowed away.

I spent the next few minutes laying on the floor, simply trying to get oxygen back into my lungs, waiting for my vision to return. Once it did, the first thing I saw was Celestia.

She was crying. They weren’t happy tears.

I was angry, but at the same time I’d never seen her cry. To this day, I’m not sure anyone other than Luna and Starswirl has seen her in such a state; it knocked my brain for a loop. The first time I tried to talk, all that came out was a wet coughing fit as I still had a bit of water in my system. Soon enough, all of that was out, and I could at least say words.

“Why?” I croaked.

Celestia closed her watery eyes and levitated a small mirror toward me. I looked into it and, had I been able, would have died of shock.

Staring back at me was a green Alicorn: horn, wings, the whole shebang. She blinked when I did, cocked her head when I did, and took on a livid expression when I did.

“Princess! What gives?! I told ya I didn’t want this!” I near-screamed.

“I… I am so…” Celestia barely choked out.

“So what?” I snapped.

Celestia steeled herself and took in a deep breath, her eyes still closed and shedding tears. “I am sorry! I genuinely believed I had reversed the Ascension Spell! So, I brought you here to double-check. But…”

“But…?” I asked carefully.

“I had… no idea you had had contact with Moonlight Orchid when I found you in Everfree,” she explained, trying to regain calm but failing. “Upon your Ascension, its poison reacted with my magic within your core and twisted it into some new permutation I have never encountered. The liquid herbal cure merely removed the outer manifestation of the affliction, which appears to have been… your original form. But beneath that shell…”

I didn’t like where this conversation was headed. “So… what’re ya tryin’ to tell me?”

From Celestia came a guilty gulp. “I cannot undo the Ascension Spell.”

“What?” I inquired for clarification.

“And…” she continued, hanging her head as low as it could possibly go. “I believe you have been made nigh-immortal, tethered to the earth.”

“…What.”

Celestia raised her head slightly, reluctantly making eye contact with me. Her voice was quiet, like a filly who’d been beaten within an inch of her life. “You will never grow old. You cannot die.”

“What.”

“I am also reasonably sure you… will never be able to bear foals, for the nigh-immortal… are sterile.”

“WHAT?!” I screamed.

That is the moment Princess Celestia, wise and glorious ruler of Equestria for well over a millennium, broke down into a bawling mess in the middle of a secret chamber deep inside a mountain, where no pony but myself could see or hear her. She continued crying for several minutes while still trying to talk to me; it came out as barely coherent babbling.

“I never expected this to happen! The last thing I ever want is for any pony under my care to suffer, but you will suffer so much because of me and you do not, cannot!, yet understand! I have ruined your life! I am so sorry! An apology will never be enough, but I do not know what else I can do! I am so so sorry!”

My brain was still trying to process what she was trying to tell me. The import of her words would take years to truly sink in.

After a few minutes, Celestia stood up and composed herself, trying to pretend what I had just seen had not happened, although her bloodshot eyes gave her away. She turned to me, and bowed her head again.

“I… suppose I will need to train you in using your powers,” she said.

I grimaced. “Guess so,” I replied as my wing twitched. This was going to take a lot of getting used to.

Once I knew my situation, I figured I had best get used to being away from home for Celestia knows how long.

Turn of phrase there; she didn’t know how long when I asked her point-blank, telling me it was up to my own progress in harnessing my magic. Which, much as I hate to admit it, made sense. It also gave me a sense of purpose as I found myself a semi-willing prisoner in the grandest estate in the world. Sure, I got a nice set of chambers out of the deal, fancier living than I could have ever dreamed. It never felt like home though, no matter how many times I would return.

It is difficult if not impossible to separate ourselves from our origins; we can try and hide it, fake it, but it never fully leaves us. I never felt like I belonged in such opulent surroundings. I am a farm pony from nowhere special and I had no desire to be anything other than that.

Celestia understood my desire to communicate with my family, so she had a postbox set up for me in Canterlot in the main branch just a few blocks from the palace. But, she insisted couriers ferry my letters to and from the place, because she worried that if any Nobility saw another Alicorn in the city, it could lead to a lot of trouble. This was fine by me as, like her, I trusted the Nobility about as much as I could trust a scorpion. However, I also had to trust that neither Celestia nor her guards would censor or disappear any correspondence. She gave me her word. Put it in writing, in fact. To my knowledge she never broke it, but she also asked me to keep quiet about the whole being-a-Princess thing, which I had planned on doing anyway. After all, no one back home would have believed it even if I proved it with a photograph… if photography existed then beyond a few crackpots in Koniksberg doing early experimentation.

The very first letter I sent out was to Sweetgum and Nick, telling them I had taken ill in Canterlot and could not return to the farm for the foreseeable future but hoped to be back as soon as I could. A little over a week later, I got a reply from them wishing me well and that Pa, bedridden by that point, said to steer clear of any Unicorns or rich-looking ponies in general except the Princess if I happened to encounter her, in which case to let her know he had grown old but was still trying his best to ‘civilize’ the land she had granted him. If they only knew. Celestia smiled at Pa’s message when I told her.

Meanwhile, I began intensive training sessions with Celestia in how to fly and, more importantly to me, how to harness and use my magic powers. Assuming that, like a chimera, it would be impossible to decouple the two spells that had warped my body, my ultimate goal was to learn transmogrification so that I could use it on myself. Before that, of course, I had to learn the basics. The first was levitation, the basis for the majority of Unicorn magic, which turned out to be surprisingly easy once I knew what I was doing. Following that were lighting, elemental manipulation (boy were those a pain to get right; I can’t tell you how many times I accidentally destroyed part of the palace), and so on.

Weeks turned into months turned into years as I settled into a routine. I just about lost track of any semblance of time beyond night and day. Celestia cautioned me that, while routines in general can do that, it was (and I assume still is) especially pernicious within the walls of that palace, so it was best I try and keep contact with the outside world. Every once in a while, I would find spare time to send a letter back to the farm. It was during this period that I learned Pa finally passed on, about a year after I left. I sent my condolences, but I can never forgive myself for missing his funeral. The rest of the family thought they understood.

In all, I ended up stuck in Canterlot for over five years before my magic was controllable to the degree that I could perform high-level spells like projection, teleportation, and finally Transmogrification, the most difficult type of magic; even the majority of Unicorns can’t do it. It includes things like age spells, turning frogs into oranges, shrink/grow spells, altering one’s cutie-mark. I could keep going but won’t.

Celestia told me to start small, so I did; I decided to work on my little trinket from the Moon Cultists. I used all the knowledge I’d gained through living in the palace under her direct tutelage and fired an orange beam at my old gift, and… nothing. I put more power behind my blast. Still nothing happened. Frustrated, I tried to set it on fire. Nothing but scorch marks around it.

I called Celestia in to ask what I was doing wrong. She stared at the scorched tabletop in mild confusion.

“What is that?” she asked.

“This thing?” I gestured to the medal. “The Moon Cultists gave it to me when I met their second-in-command in Detrot. I didn’t want to show you because it’s …apparently proof I’m their High-Priestess or something. You’re not gonna kick me out for this, are ya?”

Celestia laughed, but lightly. “Your past with the Order means nothing to me, for they are no longer Heretics under the Law and may operate as freely as individual domains allow. However, neither your magic nor mine will ever have any effect on that medal.”

“Why not?”

“Because it is forged from pure platinum,” she said. “Allow this to be your first lesson in alchemical magic. Certain metals, gold and platinum most notably, cannot be transmuted. Erm, that means ‘transformed’, by the way.”

“Thanks,” I replied with a bit of sass.

Celestia continued. “Even crossing a dimensional barrier where the rules of the Universe itself shift would have zero effect on it. That is one of the immutable laws of magic. Try again. How about on the inkwell at your desk?”

Reluctantly, I did. I missed the inkwell and got the desk. Within about five seconds, it let out a hee-haw, kicked open my door, and lumbered away.

Celestia blinked a few times before turning to me. “Impressive,” was all she would say.

The last and most difficult thing was, of course, trying to transform my own body. To explain it simply, since the Ascension Spell was and still is irreversible, self-transformation is sort of equivalent to donning a cloak that cannot be removed except by me or some pony more powerful. The first few times I tried it, I think Celestia was tempted to call in her guards to fight off the abomination had suddenly appeared in my chambers. Or laugh at me. Or both. Probably both.

Eventually, I managed to successfully perform the spell on myself. When I looked in the mirror, I was confronted with an ancient-looking Earth-pony mare, withered from age, with bone-white hair. My eyesight was blurred. My teeth were also in poor shape. In other words, I looked my age if not even older. Celestia was pleased at my magical progress. Indeed, she requested I remain at the palace.

That poor gal just wants company sometimes. It’s lonely at the top. But I insisted I needed to get back.

As it happened, our next family reunion was just about to get underway. That, I didn’t want to miss. I sent a letter via courier informing Sweetgum of my arrival. Celestia arranged for a flying chariot, which I refused but she insisted.

Before I left, I turned to Celestia and said to her, as seriously as I could, “If you really want to atone for your mistake, Princess, then how about this? Promise me you’ll protect my family, our homestead, and that village just upriver along with the ponies who live there, now and forevermore.”

As I boarded the chariot, I saw Celestia bow her head. “On my honour I swear it, Antonovka,” she said.

“Call me Annie. I think you’ve earned it by now… Celestia.”

I asked the guards to drop me off at the edge of the village that had sprouted up near our farm.

That transformation spell had worked both outside and in, so I felt like an extremely aged mare. It took forever to walk from the chariot where I thanked the guards for their service, all the way to the farm. The unnamed village had been given a name in my absence. While it had been founded by Earth-ponies, a significant number of Pegasi and Unicorns took up residence there as well. That’s why it’s called ‘Ponyville’. Simple, really. Anyway, by the time I had made it the mile and a half to my old home, my joints were achy and I was sweating buckets. I thought I finally got the chance to understand how Sweetgum felt.

At first, I encountered only extended family, none of whom recognized me, but Sweet and Nick soon saw me and gave me a big ol’ hug strong enough I almost felt my bones crack (not like they wouldn’t have healed instantly). They commented on how badly I’d aged in just a few years, before we all justified it by saying, well, illness does that to you, and I felt lucky I could make the reunion at all. To be sure, they didn’t look much better. Nick’s mane had become noticeably thinner, probably due to having to deal with Pa and his ‘legacy’.

Now home, I resumed my duties on the farm as if nothing had changed, albeit a lot slower.

Sweetgum had recently become a grandmother (again) as Apple Cobbler had gotten herself hitched in my absence and given birth to a filly the family decided to name Apple Brown Betty. Cobbler told me once that she had tried her best to follow in my footsteps but nothing could beat the original. I told her my mother was the original, to which she replied that she didn’t talk to ‘Granny Margil’ much while she was still alive. I said I understood. Ma could be right scary when she wanted to be, and only got meaner as she got older.

It was a wonderful feeling being a great aunt, doting on that little filly and the others that would inevitably follow. For the first time in a good long while, I was content.

But life goes on. As my parents had before them, Nickajack and Sweetgum eventually passed away. Apple Cobbler sent for one of her brothers, Pippin, to help out since there were no stallions left to work the farm, and we mares simply were not strong enough (well, I was, but they could never know). Manx, after a life in pear farming, passed on not long after, though I did not learn of it until more than a month after the fact, by the good graces of a member of their clan who dared defy my mother’s angry edict of No Contact, which remained de facto law for two centuries after her death.

It was simultaneously amusing yet psychologically difficult to sit foals down during reunions or on a boring weekend night and tell stories about being a refugee and encountering this area when it was still wilderness, not a farm with orchards slowly but surely expanding beyond our valley into the surrounding hills. They loved my tales about the Everfree Forest, with its Timberwolves and other sundry demons, but I tried as best I could to dissuade any of them from going in there. As the last surviving member of my generation, I was the only one who could tell these tales with the conviction of experience.

One day, at yet another family reunion, I overheard someone mention how long ‘Granny Annie’ had been around and wondered how much longer I was for this world. I looked at the calendar: the year was 814AB. I was eighty years old. In those days it was pretty rare for any pony, even in the cities, to live that long.

I decided it was time to stop.

In the dead of night, I left the farm, using my platinum medal to fasten my red-checkered cape to keep warm, and headed into the Everfree Forest. I wanted to check to see if my old friend had returned. After much effort, I made it to the fence surrounding Sunny Town. No Ruby, although to my undying day I’ll swear I heard her voice whispering through the trees, telling me, “Soon, Annie.”

I then followed the now-even-more-dilapidated roads to the Scorched Valley… much quicker when not traipsing through underbrush. The Missionaries of the Moon looked a lot less grand than I remembered, though they really weren’t that grand to begin with. Nearly all of the ponies I had met there had long since died, succumbing to the remnants of the Forest’s corruption; they were buried a furlong outside the Forest just in case. There was one notable exception: Kharon was still alive, though much worse for wear after fifty years. She wore Rhea’s gold insignia and her coat and eyes had become corrupted, proving the effects of the Forest had still not gone away even after more than half a century. Regardless, we both slowly approached each other and embraced like old friends. ‘Old’ at least was certainly apt.

Kharon informed the younger members that I was the Order’s High-Priestess. Technically true, and those ponies immediately bowed their heads for a moment before resuming their activities. She then told me that there was a message waiting for me in the old library. She guided me further into the valley.

Sure enough, inside that makeshift study, now dishevelled and dusty without Callisto’s obsessive attention to detail, sat a scroll on the writing desk. It was written by Callisto on behalf of Rhea and the Order. First, she congratulated me on my promotion to High-Priestess, which Rhea felt I deserved upon learning from Celestia’s personal guard about how I had very literally saved their necks without them knowing it until then. With the lifting of their Heresy ban, Callisto felt their Order’s members could finally preach openly anywhere in Equestria. Indeed, many did, though she and Rhea stayed in the Valley, and Japetus eventually returned although he passed away not long after. Rhea wished to apologize from the bottom of her corrupted heart for not helping me up-top or allowing anyone else to, believing in hindsight the Order’s assistance could have prevented my own ‘corruption’. Rhea also apologized for finding no sign of Ruby despite several stakeouts of Sunny Town’s perimeter; they could not enter the village itself due to continuing threat of the undead.

Callisto continued on her own, saying she knew deep down I would return eventually, which is why she penned the scroll and left it for me. Finally, she expressed guilt for not being alive by the time I came back.

With an even heavier heart, I made my way to Canterlot. I hadn’t quite mastered undoing the transmogrification spell at that point, so I was still a dottery old lady. I found a passing wagon outside the Forest and hitched a ride up the mountain. Once there, I slowly walked to Celestia’s palace. This time, all I had to do was give my name and the gates opened. A guard escorted me directly to my old chambers, left nearly untouched save for dusting since I left. After the sun set, Celestia greeted me.

She helped me undo the spell I had placed on myself, reverting me back to an Alicorn. After that, I took a few days to write a long letter, similar to this one, to Apple Brown Betty. I did not write to Apple Cobbler because I had no idea if she would still be alive by the time I returned (turned out she wasn’t), so her daughter was a safer choice. After I finished, I asked one of Celestia’s couriers to ferry it directly to Betty, and to make sure no one else read it.

Then, as I do today, I told her the Truth about myself and that long night in the Forest, and my message to her nearly two hundred years ago is the same one I’ll tell you now:

You are the one I have chosen to carry on my legacy, the one I’ve entrusted with the Truth, because you have proven most dear to me. It may be a heavy burden, but you must not tell anyone, not even your best friends.

Some years in the future, at the next reunion or the one after that, a new pony will appear with a green coat, blonde mane, and orange eyes. She will look quite young, use a different name, and sport a different cutie mark. The pie was my third, in fact. I don’t know yet where she will claim to come from. Regardless, treat this mare in public like you never met her before. If you find yourself alone with her, mention Sunny Town. I guarantee her reaction will be… amusing.

I look forward to seeing you again, whenever that may be.

Thank you.

Epilogue

Apple Bloom placed the leather-bound journal in which the message to her had been written onto her bed. As she sat, pondering what she had just read, the door to her room swung open. She grumbled that she was still not allowed a lock even at her age.

“Hey Apple Bloom,” Applejack, wearing a black hat and scarf, said with a heaping of melancholy in her voice. “Are ya feelin’ okay? I know it must be hard to be livin’ in this house now that Granny Smith’s gone. ‘Specially for you, since you’re the one she taught all her recipes and stuff. Y’know, she’s like one a’ them elephants, up an’ leaves to go find a secret place to meet her maker. Apparently it’s an Apple Family tradition? ‘Least she’ll get to see Mom an’ Dad again.”

“Uh-huh,” Apple Bloom replied noncommittally.

Applejack, always one to be in others’ business, did not take her little sister’s tone with its correct subtext of ‘Go away’. “Anywho,” she said, looking over at the journal, “Tell ya what, that courier was real insistent he give that strange cowhide book to you directly. So, what’s in it?”

Apple Bloom pondered this for a moment. Finally, she thought she had a worthy answer: “Peace o’ mind, just for me,” she said, before turning away.

“You never made much sense,” said Applejack as she shook her head. “Guess that’s why Granny always liked you best. She didn’t make much sense either.”

“Nope,” Apple Bloom said, not facing her older sister. “Big Sis, I hate to ask it, but, could ya please leave? I got a lot to process and I gotta do it on my own.”

Applejack sighed. “Fine. Guess I can’t expect you to react to loss the same way I do.” She sniffed back a teardrop. “You’re more like Big Mac in that respect. Fine. Just… don’t forget to eat. The other ponies from town were nice enough to leave us a good spread after the memorial.”

Apple Bloom nodded as Applejack left, shutting the door behind her.

After a moment, Apple Bloom approached her window and gazed out. The sun had set. Myriad stars twinkled in the dark sky, the featureless full moon providing a bright white beacon against the vast nothingness of space.

“We’ll see each other again real soon… Annie,” Apple Bloom said quietly as a meteor zipped across the sky.

Prologue

As ponies bedecked in black suits and mourning dresses shuffled about the abnormally quiet homestead, she stared at the worn leather-bound diary on her bed, and finally decided to read the letter addressed to her sitting atop it.

If you’re reading this, it means I’m gone. Maybe there was a memorial service already. Maybe it’s going on around you right now. You may be feeling alone, pondering your own life and mortality. That’s something I’ve done many times over my long, long existence.

Things are not always how they appear at first look. Or even sixth.

You deserve to know the truth about me, and by extension this town, as well as a few little voids in our official history. Only you. If I told anyone else in this family, they’d never believe it.

I have no idea if this information will ease your mind or break it. Hopefully my gut feeling about you was right. I bet so.

To set my story up properly, we need to go back a-ways, to Celestial Year 750…