The tinkling of the bell above the door in Sugarcube Corner made Twilight groan in agony. She put a hoof to her head and rubbed around her horn in a fruitless attempt to massage away the pain.

“Miss Twilight!” Carrot Cake exclaimed happily. He placed one last fresh baked muffin in a display case and smiled at her. “A glorious Summer Sun Celebration to you!”

Twilight groaned again and waved a hoof in his direction. “Please keep your voice down. I woke up with the most awful migraine.” After a moment, she added, “And a glorious Summer Sun Celebration to you as well.”

“Is there anything I can do for you? Muffin, perhaps? Just came out of the oven.”

Twilight shook her head and looked towards the stairs. “Is my brother up yet? We need to leave if we’re going to be back home in time for the festivities.”

Mr. Cake’s smile faded. “Well… I’m afraid your brother is gone, Miss Twilight.”

Twilight’s eyes shot open, the pain in her head all but forgotten. “What do you mean he’s gone?”

“A chariot from Canterlot showed up in the middle of the night.” Pinkie Pie poked her head out of the kitchen. “Something about calling everypony in as extra security for the holiday.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Why didn’t he come get me?”

Pinkie Pie grinned. “We went to fetch you, but you were sleeping so peacefully that he said to just let you follow in the morning.”

Twilight couldn’t help but smile. “That does sound like something my big brother would do. He’s a good stallion.”

“The best stallion!” Pinkie Pie’s giggle was interrupted by a small burp. “Uh… excuse me?” She wilted before Mr. Cake’s warning glare.

Twilight decided she didn’t need to bother with anymore Ponyville weirdness for the day. “Thank you for the food these past two days.” She bowed slightly. “If my brother didn’t settle the bill, then please send it directly to the Royal Treasury.”

“Oh, he settled just fine.” Mr. Cake smirked. He looked to see Pinkie Pie now giving him a taste of his own look. “What?”

“Right. Well then.” Twilight pushed the door open with her back hood and backed out of the bakery. “I hope you have a wonderful Celebration.”

Twilight spun and started galloping towards her balloon as fast as she could manage. Now that her brother had already departed, there was nothing holding her back in this infuriating and bewildering village.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE FUEL’S GONE?!”

Rainbow Dash gritted her teeth at the harsh scream that came from the unicorn. “Like I said, Miss Twilight; somepony came and drained all your fuel last night.” She looked back at the deflated balloon and shrugged. “Probably some kids messing around.”

Twilight’s eye twitched as she examined her transport. Besides being deflated and having no fuel to speak of, it seemed to be in fine shape. She tried to take a deep, calming breath. “Fine. Where can I get more fuel?”

Dash put a hoof to her chin in thought. “The local handy-pony might have a bit saved up. I could check.”

“That would be very nice of you.” Twilight looked around for the train station. “Do you know today’s train schedule?”

“Uh, it’s the Summer Sun Celebration.”

Twilight smacked herself, shocked at her own stupidity. “No trains on holidays. How could I forget?”

“Look, I know you want to get to Canterlot ASAP.” Dash lifted herself into the air with a single flap of her wings and smiled. “I’ll go find Time Turner and see what he’s got as far as fuel goes. Do you wanna wait here?”

Twilight shook her head in resignation. “No. I guess I’ll go read in the library.”

“Great. Then I’ll send somepony for you when it’s all fixed up.”

Twilight sighed as she watched the pegasus shoot away. So much for not being held back in the town. Trying not to let her head hang too low, she started back for the library.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Twilight breathed out huffily as she closed yet another tome. It had been at least an hour since Rainbow Dash had set off to find any available fuel. She was running out of patience… as well as books to read that weren’t so exceedingly long that she would be upset if she didn’t finish them. She pushed away from the table and trotted over to give the shelves a final cursory look. Surely there had to be something of interest in this Celestia-forsaken village to occupy her time until…

Her eyes found words upon a spine that she hadn’t noticed before; ‘Ponyville Queens of the Summer.’

Intrigued, she grasped the suspiciously not dusty book in her magic and floated it closer to examine it. It was a large, flat piece, clearly meant for a coffee table or display case. She opened the cover and found an old photograph expertly pasted to the page. The black and white photo featured a filly of indeterminate age beaming at the camera from atop a wagon filled to the brim with apples, carrots, and all kinds of freshly harvested produce. There was a caption hoof-written just below the photo’s border; ‘Sun Blossom.’

Twilight began flipping through the pages at a rapid pace. Each page had a similar photo and caption. There was always a smiling filly astride a huge harvest with her name inscribed beneath. There seemed to be a picture for every year since Applejack’s grandfather had come to the village. Her lips tightened as the pictures became more modern and she began to recognize some of them from the wall of Sugarcube Corner’s dining room. She even recognized a few mares she’d met. There was Pinkie Pie, and Applejack herself. And the seamstress, Rarity.

Twilight’s eyes caught on the unicorn’s full name; Rarity Belle.

She smirked. So Rarity had been lying as well. No surprise there. She reached the last page and gasped, her magic nearly dropping the book to the ground.

It was the photo that had been missing from the bakery. Last year’s photo. The Queen of the Summer that year had been… Sweetie Belle.

And the harvest was a disaster.

In the picture, Sweetie Belle was clearly trying to smile, but it didn’t really take a trained eye to see the tears welling in the corners of the filly’s eyes. The cart upon which she stood was barely filled at all, and the meager bits of produce all around her were shriveled and small.

The wheels of Twilight’s mind began to spin as the pieces began to fall together. “There's hardly any produce.” She whispered to herself. “The crops failed. And it's Sweetie Belle.” She gasped again as everything clicked into place. “Sweetie Belle was the Queen of the Summer and the crops failed!” Her magic haphazardly tossed the photo album back onto the shelf. She started scanning the shelves for a book she’d skimmed over the day before. “Now, what do the old religions say about crop failure…? Ah!” She found what she was looking for and pulled it quickly to her. She took the text on pre-Celestian religions back over to her reading table and began flipping through the pages until she found what she was after. She froze when she landed on the page she’d been seeking, headed by a single, stark word. She whispered it aloud in the silence of the library.

“’Sacrifice.’”

Ignoring the sudden coldness in the back of her mind, Twilight began to read aloud. "’Primitive ponies lived and died by their harvest. The purpose of these early Summer Sun Celebrations was to ensure a plentiful autumn, traditionally the season of apples. In pagan, pre-Celestian times, however, these dances were not simply fun festivals. They were frenzied rites ending in a sacrifice by which the dancers hoped desperately to win over the god of the sun and the goddess of the fields. In good times, they offered produce to the gods or slaughtered farm animals, but in bad years, when the harvest had been poor, the sacrifice was a pony. In some cultures, it would be the leader of the community itself that was offered to the gods.’” She pictured a smirking orange earth pony, tipping a Stetson to her. “’In others, the most beloved virgin.’” The mental image became a grinning pink mare with a mane like cotton candy. “’Very often he or she would be kept hidden for months preceding the ceremony, just as the Sun is hidden in winter.” She pounded her hoof to the table as the final piece of the puzzle revealed itself. “That’s it! Sweetie Belle's actually not dead! They faked her death in order to prepare her! Prepare her for… sacrifice...” She quickly returned to the book. “’Methods of sacrifice differed. Sometimes the victim would be drowned in the sea or… burnt to death in a huge sacrificial bonfire.’” Twilight’s mouth was suddenly very dry. Surely, heathens that these ponies were, they would not be so depraved as to burn a little filly alive?

Surely.

And really, how bad could the harvest have been? The scale would have to have been truly disastrous if anypony would even think about…

But then she remembered the rotten smell at Sweet Apple Acres. How strong it had been just over the hill.

She had to be sure.

Twilight closed her eyes and concentrated. She’d only mastered the winking spell recently, and she knew that she would only be able to use the ancient method of teleportation a few times without injuring herself. She pictured the spot where Applejack had stopped their little stroll the day before. Eyebrows creasing with the effort, she cast the spell. She felt a terrible pressure for just a moment. At the same time, her ears popped and she could barely detect a flash of light so bright it shone through her eyelids. She suddenly felt the sun’s warmth caressing her back. She opened her eyes and couldn’t suppress a grin at her success.

She’d made it. She was right back on the spot where she’d been, just below the crest of the hill. All around her were lush, blooming apple trees. Reflexively, she breathed deeply… and gagged at the sudden intrusion of a terrible, noxious aroma.

The smell of rot.

Uttering a prayer to Celestia, she crested the hill and found what she had been hoping not to see; rotten apple trees. Rotten apple trees as far as the eye could see. Their bark was turning black, their branches bending dangerously. Twilight was not in the least bit surprised to find that this portion of the orchard was right on the boundary of the Everfree Forest. Vicious black vines stretched from the borders of the tree line and plunged into the once fertile soil.

Twilight’s breath caught as everything became suddenly, horrifyingly clear. Applejack’s grandfather had been a scientist. He must’ve found a way to draw the very ambient magic from the Everfree Forest in order to make the soil of Ponyville extra fruitful.

And now the forest, so very slow moving and so very much alive, had finally decided to take back what was stolen.

Ponyville’s days were numbered… but they believed they could turn the tide with…

“Sacrifice.” Twilight whispered. She began to pace in a circle, puzzling quickly for what the right course of action would be. She could keep quiet until safely back in Canterlot, but then what little chance there might be of saving Sweetie Belle would be gone. She could directly confront Applejack, but the mare held every pony in town in her sway. Twilight had little doubt that, with a word, the farmer could have the citizens coming for her with torches and knives. But surely there was somepony in town who could help her. Somepony who would place a little filly’s life over some silly superstition. Oh, she wished her brother was here…

“That’s it!” She cried, instinctively casting the winking spell before she’d properly focused on a destination. She ‘oomphed’ as she collided with a stack of wooden structures, their aged and rotted forms giving way beneath her was she landed. She grimaced at the smell of the long neglected pews of the church, cast carelessly into the back-alley in which she’d arrived.

She stood quickly and peeked around the corner. Everypony in the street seemed to be heading for the town’s square to join the huge crowd already gathered there. Recalling the town maps she’d studied in her bored reading session, she quickly figured a back route to her destination; Carousel Boutique.

Surely Rarity would care that her sister was the intended victim of some ancient, monstrous rite.

Sticking close to the walls, Twilight briskly trotted down the street, getting dangerously close to the crowd as she reached the first turn she had to take. The crowd, despite its size, was strangely quiet. She could clearly hear the accented drawl of the farmer-priestess. Despite herself, she stopped for a moment to listen.

“Alright everypony, listen up!” Applejack was standing atop a hastily constructed platform that ringed the square’s fountain. She’d removed her hat and was using it as a fan. The day was already sweltering. “We’ll all reassemble here at town hall at twelve. That’s twelve sharp, ya’ll. Don’t be late. Ya'll don't have an excuse. It’s a holiday.” She grinned at the few laughs her little joke got. “Once we’re all accounted for, we’ll process through the village and the countryside by the route which has become sacred to our rite.” She paused for seeming dramatic effect. “This year, at the end of the procession, as ya’ll already know, a holy sacrifice will be offered up to Belenus, our most sacred god of the Sun, and to Epona, our beloved goddess of fertility and protector of our orchards, in order that we can imbue them with renewed power and to quicken the return of our crops!” A cheer went out and Applejack let it carry for a moment before raising her hoof for quiet. “Now, due to the… extreme… nature of this year’s rite, we have imposed an age limit. Nopony who has not reached breeding age will be allowed to attend. Ya’ll can drop off your little ones at the post office. They’ll be looked after just fine there…”

Twilight had heard enough. Her suspicions were now all but confirmed. Of course they wouldn’t want their little ones there to see one of their own ritualistically slaughtered. It might give them nightmares.

She raced on as fast as she dared, only stopping once or twice to hide from some strolling pony. At last, she reached her destination. And what luck! Rarity was only just returning from Applejack’s little pep rally. Twilight approached the unicorn just as she slid her key into the door’s lock. “Miss Rarity?”

The seamstress gave a little jump and a squeal of surprise. She spun and held a hoof to her chest. “Miss Twilight! Weren’t you ever taught it was rude to sneak up on ponies like that?”

Twilight looked around. “May I speak with you? Inside, I mean?”

Rarity raised an eyebrow at the other mare’s odd behavior. “I suppose there wouldn’t be any harm.” She returned to the unlocking of the door. “Have there been any further developments in the…” The instant the door began to open, the unicorn found herself being rudely shoved into her own shop. She turned, indignant, and watched the other mare lock the door behind them. “Miss Twilight! I must protest this…”

Satisfied with the door, Twilight turned and eyed Rarity coldly. “I know Sweetie Belle’s your sister, Rarity.”

Rarity shook her head. “As I already told you, I don’t have…”

“Enough games!” Twilight nearly shouted. “Enough lies! Sweetie Belle is your sister and, more than that, Sweetie Belle is alive.” The purple unicorn stared down at her white counterpart. “I don’t know what sort of game you maniacs are playing, but it has to end. Practicing your heretical rites is one thing, but killing a child? Do none of you have a scrap of decency in you?” She pointed at the door. “I don’t know what they told you, but Sweetie Belle isn’t dead. They’ve hidden her away. She’s the sacrifice, Rarity. Your own baby sister is the offering to these heathen gods of yours.”

Rarity’s mouth was set in a hard line. “I think you should leave now, Miss Sparkle.”

Twilight’s jaw dropped. “Did you hear anything I just said? Your sister…”

“I cannot tell you again, Miss Sparkle. I don’t have a sister.”

Twilight wanted to slap the mare. It was only a last minute bit of willpower that she didn’t. “In the name of Celestia, Rarity; what kind of sister are you that can stand by and see your own flesh and blood slaughtered?”

Rarity said nothing at first. She only pushed past the mare and re-opened the front door. Her magic coated Twilight and heaved her outside where she landed a few feet away on her haunches. The seamstress eyed her carefully. “Miss Sparkle, I lied to you when I told you I hadn’t lived here long. The truth is that I’ve lived in this town my entire life. These ponies, our ‘heathen gods,’ they have been the constant in my life. They were there for me when my parents were taken away. They were there for me when my fiancee died. They are everything to me, and I would do anything for their sake.” She turned to close the door, but spared a look back. “If I were you, Miss Sparkle, I would go back to Canterlot. I would stop interfering in things that are no concern of mine.” She shook her head sadly as the door closed. “You'll simply never understand the true nature of sacrifice.”

Twilight sat in the dirt for a moment, trying to process the last few minutes. Ultimately, she gave up and started back for the library.

There was still time to save Sweetie Belle… even if she had to do it entirely on her own.

Author's Note