Twilight Sparkle did not enjoy flying. She came to this conclusion quite naturally as she watched the green hills of Equestria shrink into tiny lumps beneath her flailing hooves. The shops and townhouses of Ponyville, which had usually stood at several times her height, became a mere collection of miniature dollhouses, and then nothing more than an anthill she could cover up with a single hoof.
Sure, she did not mind when she was in a pegasus-drawn chariot, or when she took a ride in a balloon, but those were only one very safe, very secure type of flying. Being wrapped in the hooves of a rainbow-striped rocket was quite another thing entirely.
As her stomach twisted at the sight of the empty distance between her and the ground she was so much more accustomed to, Twilight decided it was a good idea to abort this experiment. She opened her mouth to calmly ask her friend to take her back down.
Unfortunately, her panic and the thin air intercepted this message as it traveled from her brain to her mouth, replacing all intelligible words with screams and half-pronounced curses.
Though the wind whipped most of the sound away, the terrified unicorn felt a chuckle shake the sky-blue chest she was pinned to. “I didn't think you even knew half those words!” Rainbow Dash shouted as she beat her wings against the damp sky.
Although it was late morning—almost noon, even—there was still a good deal of humidity left in the air from the previous night's rainstorm. The moisture stuck in Twilight's coat, leaving her far colder than a pony should normally be on a day in late spring—in addition to terrified and half a mile in the air. The sun shining through the haze did not warm her up so much as illuminate the terrific fall she would be in for if her friend's hold were to slip.
Twilight put the best of her effort into directly controlling her voice as she tried once again to speak. “Rainbowdashputmedownrightthebucknow!”
The mare's heart made a frantic attempt to leap out of her chest as Rainbow Dash cupped her left wing to her ear, making the horizon tip in a direction Twilight was quite certain horizons were not supposed to be familiar with. “What'd you say?” the pegasus called, flaring her other wing to slow the rush of air and level out their bank.
Twilight kicked her hooves. “Rainbow Dash, you put me down this instant!”
The blue-winged devil adjusted the grip of her hooves to compensate for Twilight's twisting. “Stop squirming, or I'm gonna drop you!” There was playful laughter in the pegasus's voice that her friend did not share.
Twilight stopped flailing her hooves, but panic still clung to her voice. “Rainbow, you will put me down right now,” she shouted, her eyes fixed on a grove of tiny trees far beneath her, “or as Celestia is my witness I will march straight to the library and burn every copy of Daring Do in Ponyville!”
Rainbow Dash snorted. “C'mon, Twi, lighten up! We're not even going that fast!”
“I mean it!”
The rainbow-maned pegasus rolled her eyes. “Sheesh, fine.” She craned her neck, looking for a good place to make a landing. “I'm gonna set us down in that clearing. Hang on.”
Twilight's shrieks rose in pitch as the tree-tops lurched up at her. What had been a blur of green and brown just a moment ago suddenly became unnervingly well-detailed leaves and grass and mud. A tiny blue thread grew into a gurgling stream in which she could see fish. Twilight was still screaming by the time she realized she had stopped moving and was resting harmlessly on the ground.
Rainbow Dash rolled on the grass, laughing hysterically. “Oh man, Twi, I've never heard you hit that kind of pitch before!”
Twilight tried to stomp over to give the pegasus a thrashing, but she found her legs were too wobbly to stand on, so she threw a clod of dirt instead. “What the hay were you thinking? You could have dropped me!”
The clod of dirt bounced harmlessly off of Rainbow Dash’s feathers. The cyan mare raised a dismissive hoof. “Aw, I would've caught you. And if I didn't, you could just teleport to safety, couldn't you?”
The unicorn flared her nostrils. “No, I couldn't just teleport out of a fall, you featherbrain! I would have the same velocity coming out of a teleport as I did going in! The only difference it would make is that I'd be a purple smear on the floor of the library instead of in the middle of a field!”
Rainbow wiped a tear of mirth from her eyes. “Well, now I know that. But you were the one who was telling me about the book you'd just read on the aerodynamics of pegasus wings.”
The solidness of the ground beneath Twilight prompted her to take another attempt at standing. Her hooves wobbled, but she stayed upright. “So you took that to mean, 'Rainbow Dash, take me out flying right the buck now?' “
She shrugged. “First-hand experience, Twi. You can't learn everything from a book.”
The purple unicorn just growled in anger.
Rainbow Dash laughed again, but her laughter died as the sound of thunder rolled across the green hills. Her eyes lifted to the horizon, where thunderheads still hung over the mountains. “Aw, for Pete's sake—it's noon, and those airheads still haven't cleared that storm?” The rainbow-maned pegasus flapped back into the air. “I better go knock some heads together, or else somepony in Cloudsdale is gonna nail my wings to their wall!” She hovered above her still fuming friend. “You gonna be okay walking back?”
Twilight huffed. “I would prefer it, in fact.”
Rainbow snickered. “Okay, then. See ya later, Twi!” The pegasus took off, looking like a moving hole in the clouds as she sailed away.
Twilight bristled as she watched her go. “No impulse-control whatsoever,” she grumbled to herself as she looked around, getting her bearings. Row after row of sturdy apple trees marked the place as part of Sweet Apple Acres. No juicy red fruits hung from the branches yet; the season was still too early. A few late blooms still nestled among the leaves, the breeze carrying their faint tangy scent to Twilight.
Her nose wrinkled as the wind shifted, bringing with it the earthy smell of mint and ferns and meadow grass. The librarian wheeled around with a start as she noticed the green wall of the Everfree Forest rising behind her. The twisted mass of wild trees and underbrush loomed overhead, as though it was ready to leap across the small stream that marked its boundary and reclaim the orchard.
Twilight shivered in the wind. Dampness still lingered in her lavender coat. She imagined a cozy little fire to dry off by, and perhaps an apple fritter to chew on to settle a stomach that still was not convinced it was on the ground. Twilight did not want to impose, but she knew she would not have a chance to even say anything before one member of the Apple family or the other would offer their hospitality.
She had never been to this particular corner of Sweet Apple Acres before. The last time Twilight had helped with apple-bucking, Applejack had already cleared this field by herself. Still, she knew that if she followed the stream, she would eventually come across an irrigation canal that would lead her back to the farmhouse. The cold, damp unicorn took off at a brisk trot, eager to get someplace warm. On her way, she mused about how she would get back at that thickheaded pegasus. Perhaps she would make an appropriate test subject for her new polymorph spell.
The unicorn stumbled a bit as her hooves found uneven ground. The previous night's deluge had overwhelmed the banks of the irrigation canal, and the soil had eroded away, exposing the roots of several apple trees. Something white caught Twilight's eye from within a cage of wooden roots and mud. Her curiosity piqued, the lavender mare stepped closer to investigate.
The object was smooth and round, and buried too deeply in the mud for Twilight to identify just by looking. She pushed some of the mud aside with her hoof, and applied a little bit of leverage to it with her magic. With a wet, sucking noise, it popped free of the muck.
Twilight fell back on her haunches, her mouth gaping. In front of her, a mud-caked equine skull gave her a vacant, grinning stare.
An orange earth pony grimaced as she examined the damage to her barn. Every dang time, I tell those weatherponies to go easy on the wind, she thought, picking a torn shingle up out of the wet grass, and every dang time they overdo it and send half this barn's roof out to fly across the fields! Applejack trudged into the barn, looking for her old wooden ladder. She was also going to need a hammer, some fresh lumber, and Celestia's own patience not to skin the next pegasus she saw.
Applejack's ears perked up as she heard frantic hoofbeats pounding up the hill. She peeked out of the barn door to see Twilight running rubber-kneed toward her. “Whoa there, Twilight! What's goin' on? You look like ya been chased by the ghost of Stone Wall hisself!”
The purple mare did not stop until she was inside the barn. She gasped for breath. “Applejack... Something terrible...! Somepony... killed!” Twilight squeaked between panting.
Applejack's eyes went wide. “What are you talking about? Is Big Mac all right? Applebloom? Granny Smith?” She took a few steps towards the farmhouse.
Twilight shook her head. “Not them,” she said. Her breath was slowly returning to her. “I found... bones, in the east field, buried near the forest...” The unicorn stopped to take a deep lungful of air. “Applejack, I think somepony used your farm to cover up a murder!”
Applejack's jaw tightened slightly. “Sugarcube, what the hay were you doin' out in the east field?”
Twilight suddenly realized that with the shock of her discovery, she had completely forgotten how mad she was at the pegasus. “Rainbow Dash took me flying, and set me down out past the stream. I was walking back, when...” Tears filled her eyes and she could not finish her sentence.
“Rainbow? Why ain't she here with you? Did she...” Applejack paused. “Did she go to get help?”
The frightened unicorn shook her head. “No, she took off to go break up the storm. I don't think she saw the bones.” Twilight shuddered. “Applejack, we need to tell somepony! There's a murderer on the loose!”
The orange earth pony nodded slowly. “Yeah. Uh, gimme a sec to grab some things, and I'll walk ya back to town.” She put the old wooden ladder back in its place, and slung her saddlebags over her back.
A sigh of relief escaped Twilight’s lips. “Thanks Applejack,” she said as her friend stuffed a few lengths of rope into her bags. “I was so scared just running to here. I really appreciate not having to walk the rest of the way to town alone.”
“Ain't nothin', hon,” the farm pony said before grabbing a hammer from its hooks on the wall and dropping it in her pack. “I wouldn't send ya off alone after somethin' like this.”
“You're a good friend,” the unicorn said. “We'll need to go tell the Mayor at Town Hall first. Then, I'll have Spike send a letter to the Princess. Maybe she'll send the Royal Guard.” Twilight blinked a few times. “Applejack, why would we need a shovel?”
Twilight's world went black as a rusty spade collided with her skull.
The first thing Twilight was aware of was the feel of damp grass on her face. She tried to open her eyes, but was only rewarded with a bolt of searing pain to her head for the effort. Resolving not to try that again, Twilight did her best to let her other senses tell her about her surroundings.
There was a metallic taste in her mouth—blood, at a guess—and her tongue felt oddly ragged on one edge. Twilight remembered falling down a flight of stairs and biting her tongue once when she had lived in Canterlot. This felt a lot like that.
The smell of smoke drifted to her nose. Twilight felt heat on one side of her face and guessed that there was a fire nearby. Beneath the smoke, though, was another scent. Some blend of mint and reeds and meadow grass.
Twilight's ears picked up the constant gurgle of rushing water nearby. Much nearer, but much quieter, she heard the soft hiss and crackle of a small campfire. On the other side of the campfire, she heard a slow, rhythmic scrape of metal on earth. Keeping time with the slow beat, Twilight heard a low whistle, carrying a mournful tune.
She dared to try opening her eyes again. Pain once again shot through her skull, but blurry images began to take focus before her. The bright yellow flames in front of her made her head hurt, so she turned away from them. Dark limbs of apple trees divided the deepening purple of the sky into a patchwork quilt of leaves and stars. How had it gotten so late?
Red light flickered and danced across the smooth bark. The shadow of the Everfree loomed over her to her left, the faint illumination from the campfire making it look like the maw of some enormous beast that intended to swallow her.
Continuing to let her eyes wander, she finally found the source of the whistled dirge, as well as the metallic scraping noise. A few feet beyond the campfire, Applejack was busy pushing a shovel into the damp earth, whistling her sad song while she worked.
“Mmuuh... Applejack?” Twilight murmured. It wasn't until she tried to stand that the unicorn felt the rough hempen rope binding her hooves together. She flopped on the ground and was greeted with another shot of pain through her head.
The whistling stopped, but the shovel continued its beat. “I told Mac we dug that irrigation ditch too close to the trees,” the farm pony said without turning. “I told him, and now this is what happens.”
Twilight Sparkle wanted something to make sense; she wanted anything to make sense. So far, nothing did. “Applejack... what's going on?” It hurt her head to try to speak, but she needed things to make sense.
Applejack stopped shoveling, and just stayed still for what seemed like a long time. Finally, she let the implement fall to the ground, and stepped around the fire to sit on her haunches next to Twilight.
“I'm in a bit of a pickle, sugarcube,” she said, reaching to add a stick to the fire. “See, on the one hoof, you're a real good friend. Don't go tellin' nopony else this, but you're maybe even my best friend. You've always been there for me when I needed ya, even when I didn't think I needed anypony.” Applejack lifted her old brown hat to rub the back of her head. “Hay, I remember seein' you and the others come for me in Dodge Junction. I reckon you'da kept chasin' me to the ends of Equestria if that's what it took.”
Twilight listened in silence, fighting back a sense of dizziness that threatened to drag her back into darkness.
The orange pony stared into the fire, watching the flames creep across the newly added piece of wood. “But on the other hoof, ya got a dangerous curiosity streak to ya, and now you've gone and dug up somethin' that should've just stayed buried.”
Twilight suddenly realized she recognized the tree she was lying under. Gnarled roots protruded from the mud like a grasping claw. Firelight gleamed off white bone. A wave of nausea washed over her. “...Who was it?” she finally asked quietly.
Applejack picked a long grass stalk and began chewing on it. “Y'know, on his best days, Pa was everything a pony could ask for in a dad. He worked hard, taught us kids to do right... I remember a time I was proud to call him my pa.” She chuckled grimly. “But on his bad days... Pa was a mean drunk, and he got violent when things didn't go his way.”
Twilight felt a cool night breeze rustle through her coat as she listened.
“After the fever took Ma... well, we stopped seein' his good side anymore. Mac'n I had to tell the schoolteacher that we'd been wrasslin' in order to explain away the bruises. Even Gran caught a hoof or two now and then. It wasn't till...” Applejack's voice broke a little, and she stayed silent for a minute. “Well, it might've been just an accident, but one night Pa was layin' into it real hard, and he tossed me at little Apple Bloom's crib. With lil' sis sprawled out on the floor, bawlin', somethin' finally snapped in Big Mac.”
Twilight's throat felt dry.
“I don't know if Mac ever fully intended to kill him, but... I helped him bury the body out here and we planted an apple tree on top of him.”
Tears welled up in Twilight's eyes. “Oh Applejack,” she whispered. “I'm so sorry!”
Applejack spat the grass stalk into the fire. “You ain't the one that should be sorry,” she said, the flames flickering in her green eyes.
The purple unicorn watched the grass stalk shrivel and turn to ash in the campfire. “...But you've got to know you can't just hide something like this,” she said. “Let me explain it to them. Princess Celestia is so forgiving, I know she'll understand.”
Green eyes locked on to Twilight and hardened. “Understand? What's there to understand? This ain't like stealin' a pet bird to make it feel better, Twilight. We're talkin' murder! They don't send ya to no Magic Kindergarten for killin' a pony!” The farm pony pounded a hoof on the ground inches from Twilight's muzzle.
Twilight yelped and tried to squirm backwards. Her friend was frightening her. If Applejack wasn't going to listen to reason, she would have to find some way to escape. But the bindings on her legs made any kind of attempt to run impossible. What if I teleport? She did not think she had the energy in her to make a long range teleport all the way into town, but she could teleport just a few feet away and leave the rope bindings behind. That would give her enough freedom of movement to make a break for it. Twilight Sparkle began building a magic charge in her horn, concentrating on her spell.
Few non-unicorns are able to appreciate the amount of energy that is involved in a magic spell. A simple levitation spell can stun a pony if released unexpectedly. Something a bit more complicated like summoning fire is enough to knock a pony on her back. A spell meant to instantly fold a pony from one point in space to another carries with it the power of a bolt of lightning. Celestia help the unlucky unicorn who gets struck in the horn with a hammer while channeling such a spell.
Twilight screamed in agony. The arcane energy she had built up backfired, arcing through her body like a river of molten glass. She convulsed in pain. She smelled a combination of ozone and burnt hair rise from her own mane. Her head once again throbbed, feeling as though it wanted to split into two.
Applejack dropped the smoking hammer out of her jaws. “Sorry hon,” she said, “but that ain't gonna do you no good.”
The lavender mare felt herself being lifted off the ground. Her eyes widened as she spotted an object she had missed the first time she had taken stock of her surroundings. Swaying in the breeze from a sturdy tree branch was a hangmare's noose. “N-no,” she stammered as Applejack carried her closer to it. “No!”
Twilight bucked and flailed, and her rear hooves caught the side of Applejack's head in a glancing blow. She was dropped hooves-first into the campfire.
The unicorn shrieked as glowing-hot embers burrowed into her fur, but she felt the tightness of her bindings give way as the flames severed the ropes. Adrenaline and instinct kicked into Twilight's system, and she bolted into the trees.
Twilight didn't know what direction she was running, or where she planned to go. She just knew that if she stopped she would be caught. She ran as hard as she could, tripping over roots in the dark and ignoring the pain from her cuts and bruises and burns. She had to escape.
The unicorn's stomach lurched as the ground fell away from her hooves. The night sky flipped underneath her as she tumbled. Suddenly she was submerged in cold, rushing water. In her surprise, she drew water into her lungs, prompting a fit of hacking and sputtering.
The rushing water dragged Twilight for several yards before she was able to right herself. She had fallen into the irrigation ditch, and was being carried across the orchards by the current. Her hooves slipped twice on the muddy bottom before she could gain enough of a hold to drag herself onto the bank.
The lavender mare laid still on the earthen bank, gasping for air as quietly as she could manage. The icy water clinging to her coat made her shiver in the cold night air. Her eyes darted about the shadowy orchard, but she saw no sign of Applejack. She could make out the faint red glow of the campfire behind her.
Twilight slowly put her shaky legs underneath herself. The road back to Ponyville should be less than a mile to the west. If she could reach that road, she was sure she could make it back to town before the farm pony could find her. Taking special care to step quietly, Twilight made her way west as quickly as she dared.
The apple trees lurked silently overhead, as though waiting to swoop down on her. The unicorn kept her head low and slunk onward. Every rustle of grass sounded to her like the breath of an unseen predator. She swore every creak of wooden branches in the wind masked the sound of hoofbeats hunting her.
Twilight's heartbeat increased as she finally caught a glimpse of glow from firefly lamps. The road was just around the next hill. I am going to make it, she thought, increasing her pace to a trot. The lamplight shined like a beacon, promising her safe haven, warmth and home. She allowed herself a gasp of relief as the dirt path opened in front of her. Her hooves were tired and bleeding, but they were good enough to get her back to Ponyville.
A lump of ice formed in the pit of Twilight’s stomach as she turned to follow the road. Leaning against the lamppost, hat tipped forward, was a monster wearing the orange hide of her friend. Green eyes shimmered in the soft yellow glow. “Now, I can't say as I blame ya, given your position,” Applejack said evenly, “but tryin' to run is just gonna make this messier an' more painful than it has to be. For the both of us.”
Twilight looked both directions down the road. Applejack was between her and the way to Ponyville. She could try screaming for help, but there was never anypony out on this road after dark. The other direction went straight back to the farmhouse. Would the other Apples protect her from one of their own? Or would they join Applejack in protection of their dark secret?
No, her only hope for safety was in Ponyville. Twilight lowered her head and began to charge. The orange earth pony stood her ground. Bright light flashed from the unicorn’s horn as she winked out of existence in front of Applejack and reappeared behind her.
A pair of orange hooves lashed out in a perfectly timed kick, connecting with the purple mare’s ribs with a sickening crunch. The momentum and force sent her bouncing across the muddy road.
“I seen you pull that trick on Nightmare Moon,” the farmer said, stepping carefully over the unicorn’s prone form. “It don’t work twice.”
Twilight choked and spat out a mouthful of blood. She tried to get up and run again, but her legs refused to do what her brain told them to do. She felt a set of teeth close on her mane and drag her back into the orchard.
Twilight found herself unable to struggle as the orange mare dragged her through the rows of trees. She could not quite remember the book she had read once on pony physiology and medicinal science, but she felt fairly certain the tickle in her lungs was not a good thing. She winced with every lump and stone she was dragged over, but her limbs felt too sluggish and heavy to resist.
She whimpered as the noose drew closer. “Please,” she croaked hoarsely. “I won't tell anypony, I swear, just don't do this.”
Applejack grunted as she lifted the unicorn off the ground. “I truly wish I could believe that, Twilight...” Hesitation made her voice waver as she spoke. “I truly do.” She slipped the noose around her friend's neck.
Twilight flailed in panic. Applejack stepped back out of the reach of the purple hooves and began pulling the other end of the rope. The noose began to tighten around Twilight's neck.
“Th-there's a spell!” she sputtered.
Applejack held the rope taut, but did not pull it any tighter. “What kind of spell?”
“I know a memory spell,” she gasped. “I can cast it on myself and forget everything! Please, Applejack, I don't want to die!”
Twilight felt the noose go slack. “...Everything?” the farm pony repeated.
Relief flooded her broken body. “The bones, this whole day, all of it,” she said. “You can tell me I fell into a ravine or something, and everything goes back to normal.” I wake up from this nightmare, she thought.
The farm pony was silent for a moment. “...I'd sure like for everything to go back to normal,” she said quietly.
Tears of joy filled Twilight's eyes. This whole thing would be like it never happened. Just a bad dream.
The noose jerked tight around the unicorn's throat. “Just how stupid a pony do ya take me for?” Applejack growled as Twilight was hoisted into the air. “I let you charge up yer horn for some fancy solve-everything spell, and then you just teleport away, or put me to sleep or somethin'.”
No... wait! Twilight tried to protest, but no sound could pass the strangling rope to come out of her mouth. Stars exploded in her vision as her body was slowly deprived of oxygen.
Put me down! A sense of numbness crept into her extremities. The blood pounding in her ears sounded like roaring wind. The ground beneath her seemed to shrink as her eyes grew dim.
Please, put me down...
“Goodbye, Twilight.”
Four lavender hooves danced a macabre jig in the air, consisting of twitches and stiff-legged flailing to the tune of a low, mournful whistled song and the steady beat of a shovel.
The next day, a new apple tree was planted in the east field.
Authors Note: ...And this is where I would end the story if I were not a complete and utterly spineless wuss. If you want to pretend this story has even a shred of legitimacy as a darkfic, I recommend just walking away at this point.
However, if you are like me and want your story to have a happy ending with everypony alive and happy and eating ice cream, then please go on and read the epilogue.
Alt. Ending 2: Forgetting
Alt. Ending 2: Forgetting
Alternate Ending #2: Forgetting
The farm pony was silent for a moment. “...I'd sure like for everything to go back to normal,” she said quietly.
Tears of joy filled Twilight's eyes. This whole thing would be like it never happened. Just a bad dream. “Okay,” she said hoarsely as she felt herself lowered to the ground. “Just give me a moment to remember how it goes...” A steady glow began to form at the tip of her horn.
Violet eyes fluttered open, but saw nothing but blurry shapes for a while. Twilight Sparkle's head felt like it had been turned inside out. The sharp pain of cuts and burns simmered across her skin, complemented by a dull aching throb in each of her joints. Every time she breathed, something wrapped tight around her chest sent needles through her ribs.
Twilight moaned, and tried to lift her head.
An orange hoof pressed against her forehead, gently lowering her back down onto the pillow. “Whoah there, hon,” a voice said softly, “you don't wanna pull your stitches.”
Twilight squinted. “Applejack? Why... where am I?”
“Yer in the hospital,” she replied. “You've been here for a couple days now.” The earth pony's brows furrowed as she looked at Twilight. “...Do ya remember what happened?”
The unicorn shut her eyes. She recalled seeing the ground fall away beneath her. “Rainbow Dash took me flying, and then...” A moan built up in her throat. “Oh, Celestia, she dropped me, didn't she?”
A strange smile crossed Applejack's lips. “No, sugar, Rainbow didn't drop you. She set ya down at the edge of my farm, and you must've decided to walk back. But the rainstorm opened up a sinkhole and ya fell right in.”
Twilight shifted in her uncomfortable hospital gown. It felt itchy.
“I'm just glad I happened to have walked by that day. You were hurt pretty bad.” The farm pony idly stroked Twilight's mane. “Big Mac is out there fillin' it back in now. We don't want nopony else to stumble into that thing.”
Twilight tried to remember the sinkhole, but her mind came up blank. Well, with a combination of traumatic experience and head injuries, that's probably no surprise, she supposed. I guess I'm lucky that's the only thing I can't remember. She smiled at her friend. “So you saved me?”
Applejack turned to stare out the window. “Yeah... I s'pose I did.”
The librarian's eyebrows raised in curiosity. There was something strange in the tone of her friend's voice. Sadness, perhaps, or guilt. She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the loud crash of the door swinging open.
“Twilight!” Rainbow Dash rushed inside, wrapping the bandaged unicorn up in a big hug before being angrily swatted away by Applejack.
“Hey! She don't need yer help poppin' her stitches. She's already had a go at it herself!” The orange earth pony flicked her ears back.
The blue pegasus took a step back and adopted more gentle movements, but did not dampen the enthusiasm in her voice. “When I heard what happened, I was so—I mean I'm so sorry! I should've walked with you back to the Apples' place, or flown you back to town, or... or something!”
Twilight coughed a bit as she recovered from Rainbow's hug. “It's okay,” she said, “there's no way you could have known what was going to happen.”
The rest of Twilight's friends filed into the room. The concern on their faces washed away into relief as they learned she would be okay. The six ponies filled the air with laughter and well-wishing. Some of their questions Twilight found herself unable to answer, but a simple assurance that she would be better soon was always enough to deflect them.
Finally the doctor came in to shoo her friends out. “Miss Sparkle needs her rest,” he said, nudging the five toward the door.
Applejack was the last to leave. Twilight called after her. “Applejack?”
“Yeah, hon?”
“Thank you.”
The orange pony stood still for a moment. “...Good night, Twilight.”
A few weeks later, when she was strong enough to go out on her own again, Twilight decided she would go visit the place where she had nearly died. She packed herself a small lunch and set out for Sweet Apple Acres.
She considered dropping by the farmhouse to visit with Applejack before having a look at the sinkhole, but she decided against it. Applejack had seemed to get prickly whenever she asked for details about the sinkhole. The farm pony would probably insist she not go.
Twilight ducked under the fence and trotted off into the eastern field. Rows of apple trees whistled in the breeze as she passed beneath their green canopies. Water gurgled and sparkled in the sunlight as it churned its way through the irrigation ditch.
After a few minutes walking, the unicorn came to a patch of freshly-turned dirt. I suppose this must be it, she thought to herself, idly pawing at the earth. It suddenly struck her as funny that she would expect to recognize it. After all, even if she could somehow remember the sinkhole, it was all filled in now.
Twilight sat down and dug a carrot-and-daisy sandwich out of her pack. This place held none of her lost memories, but it was as good a place as any to have lunch. The carrots gave a sweet crunch as she chewed, her eyes lazily drifting over to the shadows cast by the Everfree Forest.
The wind shifted, bringing the musky scent of mint and reeds and meadow grass to Twilight. Her stomach turned, and suddenly she was not hungry for lunch. She put her sandwich away, and started back towards the farmhouse. She was not sure why, but Twilight did not like being in this place anymore.
A pair of green eyes watched the purple unicorn as she trotted away from the edge of the forest. Everything would go back to normal.
