Untitled Documentsby Doctor DiscoChaptersThe CarouselThe CottageThe CoppiceAuthor's ForewordThe CarouselCompass Rose stood at a fork in the road, squinting up at the position of the sun. Noon. It was noon. Taking out her canteen to drink, she took a long draught before corking it once more. It just wouldn’t do to drink all of her water without having found a replenishable source. Glancing down the road she intended to venture, she could see the forest overtaking the land, encroaching onto the main road as far up as the path just a few hundred metres ahead of her. As her gaze shifted, it was clear what the main catalyst to the overgrowth was. The Everfree. A place where monsters are born, or so she was told. It was stories like those that gave a sense of awe and wonder to her childhood. They were what kept her up at night having nightmares, or dreams of exploring ruins and fighting them herself. Legends of six mares and their quest to bring Harmony and Friendship to all those who would listen, and her dream to become just like one of them. Fighting off evil villains and monstrous beasts, keeping balance in the world around them, saving the world; nothing that held any credence. Tales to astonish. Only tall tales. Stories that had long since faded with time. Long since faded with age. That had long since died with the ponies that lived them. Compass Rose didn’t come out here to prove them wrong, or to prove them right. She didn’t come to disrespect the dead and riotously disrupt the landscape, nor was she in any mindset to do anything of the like. She had come out here to explore. She had taken so many long hours convincing her exploration guild to let her come back here. To let her come back to what was once known as Ponyville. Rose had fought. They told her there was nothing to come back to. They told her nothing was left behind. They told her it was all gone. That all of it was explored, and that there was no more to be had. Of course, that was a lie. It was always a lie. Nopony had come to know these ruins since they first fell. Left to grow on their own by nature’s power. All the records, if dug deep enough, showed no indication of any attempts at searching the Old World. The stories people, not just ponies, shared were from those that remained yet from those times of benevolent sovereignty and harmony. Just by looking at the path she traversed now, it was clear. Compass Rose was the first to come here in a long time. A very, very long time indeed. The crumbling monument of a once great crystal palace stood drearily at the center of the village. The crystal itself weathered and worn, it’s luster all but a memory. The houses stood as memoirs of joyful days long gone, their sagging roofs and sunbleached colours a testament to the effects of time. Standing from a distance, it beckoned her to come forward. Grass and saplings had taken root where the path would’ve once been clear. Rose knew where she was stepping, but she tread carefully just the same. There was no telling what traps lay hidden underneath, set by the forest itself. Grass knots and sinkholes, an ambush by animals or the common timberwolf. She could never be too careful, and she stayed close to the shade provided by the canopy of nearby trees. Even then, she remained vigilant, never staying in one spot for too long. To remain still may have spelled a death sentence in open areas like this, and she wasn’t planning on doing so right then. A sign lay crooked, still standing high with one post of a foot thick of wood. The other leg had been eaten away by termites and rot, the one still standing not far behind. “We..ome .o P..yv..l.e” the sign read. Letters were missing, and those that remained were only barely legible. Faded and worn away. Compass Rose tread towards it with a wonder and sadness in her eyes, seeing for the first time an artifact, a true memory of the olden days. She felt her hoof along its grain, and she breathed in the scent it gave off. Green. It smelt like green. Images of old tree stumps covered in moss and the memory of long days out venturing filled Compass’ mind, and she smiled morosely at the sign itself. All that was needed to divine it’s past was a good imagination; she could see the ponies that would’ve broken into happiness at the sight of the post. “Welcome to Ponyville!” It would have portrayed brightly, inviting new tenants and visitors to enjoy their stay. A freshly trodden path, continuously being travelled and stepped to enter and exit. Well kept borders to avoid overgrowth and lovingly maintained houses that could only keep one smiling. Bright palettes of pigments decorating everything as far as the eye could see. Compass Rose opened her eyes and found everything was back to normal. A decrepit failing town, abandoned by those who lived within it in a time gone by. Roads rocky and grassy from the lack of equine interference. Pieces of life scattered every which way and that; a reminder of how things had been. Stepping back onto the main road, no longer clear of obstacles but covered in foliage, grass and flora of all kinds, she took in the sights around her. Houses that all stood as a reminder of what life used to be like. A scooter resting on the corner of a home, grasped in roots and vines by the ground it used to roll across. Several houses had their roofs caved in, the shingles having been worn away by time and weather alike. Beams that once held the support of said roofs lay crack and splintered, left to rot and be reclaimed by the land it was taken from. Other houses had their glass shattered inwards, no doubt from the freezing and refreezing of the panes from countless moons and winters. Some doors were bashed in, presumably by animals that sensed the food and treasures that had lain within. And others yet seemed to have withstood the test of time, standing tall and proud as the day they were first erected. One such house was one that was shaped out to look like a carousel, with spindly stanchions stretching from the ground up holding the canopy outward and in place. The roof looked to be of durable material, at first glance fabric. Upon closer inspection however, it looked to be carefully designed hardwood or some sort of light metal. An intriguing combination of elegance and practicality. Not being able to withstand her inner explorer, she creaked open the front door. The layer of dust from the door alone told her everything she needed to know. She was the first customer this place had seen in ages. Customer, as it were, because this was a store. Telltale signs of a textile business with a cashier up front and ponyquins in the back. Some of the models had unfinished dresses and suits tapered onto them in the hopes of one day being finished. Mothballs hung off of the clothes themselves, a few laying on the ground, with countless dust bunnies in sight. Chests lay scattered about, fabric still trailing from within as they had been hastily packed and closed. Opening one up, she was more than surprised to see a multitude of precious gemstones. Opening a few more, her eyes glimmered with the loot. Would it be right to rob the dead, though? The long forgotten and unremembered? With a sigh, she closed them all up, save for the first one. Taking a hoofful of sapphires, rubies, peridots, and other unnamed crystals, she closed her eyes. Praying for those she was taking from and asking for a blessing, Compass Rose placed them gently into the treasure pocket of her knapsack. Upstairs was a whole ‘nother story, literally and figuratively. A few rooms were scattered along a fair corridor, and only two seemed to have been occupied. Opening the seemingly unoccupied rooms, she could only see the same items: a bed, a side table, a desk, and a quaint wardrobe; all for guests. The two that did seem have residents were very telling to say the least. The room she was most interested in seemed to have been occupied by an adult; a mare like herself. A somewhat lavish four poster bed was set to the side, facing a desk absolutely covered in notes and drawings. More ponyquins were present to the left of a repository of fabrics. A few rolls were still unused, others haphazardly cut from, and even more devoid of any at all. Some drawers were slightly open, and the ponyquins had rough sets of clothing on them; the makings of a fashion line. Peering at the desk filled with post-its, notes and a sewing machine, she found a journal to it’s side. Daring to crack it open, it’s pages crinkled and shuddered at the effort. Many of the lines were written in perfect precision, each letter blending into the next. To her expectation, a few of the pages crumbled to pieces at the mere touch of her hoof, and many others brittle enough to warrant the same if it weren’t for her gentle touch. Watching as the dates at which each entry was set grew and the amount of remaining pages grew smaller, she ended up at the bookmarked entry. The final one as far as she could see, not careless enough to attempt to bristle through the rest of the pages to prove her theory correct. Compass Rose found herself drawn to the date at the top, silently muttering it to herself. The 45th of Spring, 1027 C.R. By her calculations, it meant this was at least two hundred years old. A lifetime away. She suddenly realized just how old this town was, and how everything should truly be worn away by Mother Nature by now. Of course, if her studious mind had any credit to her researching, everything was still here because of the ambient magic still present from the days ponies and other creatures used to live here. The page itself dared to crumble in her hold, and Compass Rose held her tongue on her top lip as she gently let the entry settle down. Brown and a little worn with age, it’s own appearance didn’t seem like much. Yet Rose knew it was special. The last entry before something happened to make it so she never visited her journal again. The writing was notably a little less refined than previous pages, but it still retained its elegant prose. Dear Diary, Today was an interesting day. Something happened… I’m still not quite sure what it was, but it has shaken everypony up. It leaves one to wonder what’s going to happen now. Even as I am writing this, I prepare my belongings with my little sister Sweetie Belle in anticipation of departure. Twilight had said it was nothing more than a small shift in the wind, so to speak. I think it’s much more than that. If she of all ponies, one of the most rational and book-smart (or ‘egghead’, as Rainbow would say) that I know of is preparing to leave Ponyville, then it must be bad. We have all lived here for nearly our entirely lives, minus Twilight and Spike as well as new tenants for obvious reasons, so it is… It’s a lot more difficult to say goodbye than I thought. Not just I am leaving. Everypony is. Everypony in Equestria, moving. A migration of pony society. Everypony. It’s surprising, actually, how well prepared everypony was in taking the news. Maybe it’s because some were relieved to finally get some peace and quiet since moving near the Everfree. I’m not going to lie, it is a place that is quite like no other, but still. Maybe we can come back one day, live here again. That would be nice. Unfortunately, that does not seem the case. It looks like we’ve finally filled our stay. The land is kicking us out. Applejack was very surprised when she saw her apples not coming down in one swift buck, as well as realizing that she couldn’t control a saplings growth anymore. Rainbow herself was baffled by the intensity some of the clouds had in being corralled. As if to add insult to injury, the animals that Fluttershy has taken to caring for have been growing more restless each and every day. She assures us that it is just a passing phase, and that this always happens around the same time of the year. The way her eyes drooped and her expression faltered is enough to tell us all that she knows just as much as us that something is happening. At least my sister will be in the company of the Crusaders. Celestia knows what would happen if I let that filly sit still for more than a fraction of a second, especially while travelling. And if you are reading this, whoever is out there, if I have come back for this diary, I would like to say thank you. Thank you for living. And thank you for remembering. The best of regards, Rarity The CottageThe ground felt soft, like putty beneath her hooves. Knowing the feeling, Compass Rose glanced up in time to see a cloud cover the sun, illuminating it like a flashlight on some cotton. Smiling, Compass Rose breathed in. The faint scent of petrichor. Looking at the distance above the expanse of the Everfree was a haze of grey. The haze that Rose knew to be rain. The ground was beginning to get ready in preparation for the precipitation. It always happened. First, the clouds would begin to move. Second, the ground would soften up. Then, rainfall. And she loved it. The droplets of water that remained on leaves and petals after fresh rain. The way it cooled the fur and skin on a hot summer’s day. The puddles that would appear and she would splash around in for the sake of nostalgia. Welcoming the change in weather, she noted the sparse separation of the clouds that was quickly closing up as the wind kicked its head. The letter had mentioned a cottage. A cottage near the Everfree. A cottage owned by a pony named Fluttershy. This intrigued Compass Rose because the Everfree was no normal forest. Even back in the days of the Solar Reign, it remained a wild card. An uncontrollable, unpredictable factor. Pegasi could not control the weather or safely fly above it. Earth ponies found their manipulation of the elements erratic and widely unusable. Unicorns were the only one’s that stood a real chance, but even then, the forest seemed to have grown an immunity to most types of magic. Of course, these were all things Rose knew from her studies. Reading about it was one thing, entering it seemed to be a whole different world. It had even said so in one of the books she had read before departing. Something along the lines of “I have had personal experience, venturing into the Everfree on my own with knowledge I had pulled from textbooks. And let me just say right now, you can forget anything you learned.” The other room in the place she had been in (finding from sifting through some records that it had been named the “Carousel Boutique”) seemed meant for a child. A young adolescent at most. With a simple bed that was much less extravagant than the older siblings’, it seemed meant for a little filly. With a much smaller vanity and multiple stuffies, it was a nice little place that made Compass Rose’s heart soar. She had had a phase like that. It made Compass Rose wonder if the room belonged to Rarity’s sister, Sweetie Belle. It would seem to be the most logical assumption, as it was the only other room that had any indication of being lived in. The only other room with personal belongings of any kind. The sight of a building near the forest’s edge brought Rose out of her thoughts, as was the telling sign of a cold wind rushing through her mane and the darkening of the sky. If past experience was anything to go by, Rose gave herself ten minutes. Ten minutes before rain fell. Ten minutes before Everything became soaked. Not wanting for any of her gear to undergo extensive water damage. She was fine with getting soaked. Her gear… well, it had taken her longer than she would admit to get an advanced extension charm onto her practical saddlebags. She didn’t want them to get ruined, among other things. A broken sign at the foot of the path stopped her in her tracks. Swinging precariously from a single rusted chain, it seemed to have had writing a long time ago. By the looks of things, Rose would’ve guessed it was enchanted to withstand most encounters with nature and time, just like the board for Ponyville. And yet… the writing was gouged out, only the prominent letters “F” and “C”, consecutively underneath each other in cursive being legible. Feeling the wood in her hoof, Compass Rose sighed. Envisioning the cottage as it was now two centuries before let Rose see it as it should’ve been; at it’s prime. Everything would’ve been in pristine condition. The sign would’ve been as cheerful as any other, prominently displaying the words “Fluttershy’s Cottage”, as that’s who this cottage belonged to. Fluttershy. A name that, alongside Rarity, sounded familiar enough to Rose that she needed to know more. The fast-paced river would’ve been a quaint little stream, properly maintained and kept under control. Seeing the shadow of a pegasus filly hiding behind the comfort of her door. Animals rushing around, enjoying their stay under the ward of Fluttershy. What Rose didn’t get, however, was how this pony could have the name “Fluttershy” and live near one of the most damnable places in existence. Taking her hoof off of the sign, the world came rushing back to her. Just as well too, for a large rain drop splattered onto her muzzle at that moment. Looking up, Compass Rose could see the churning, broiling clouds had already gathered together, darkening everything around her. Quickly casting her eyes to the door, she shifted her gaze back up in time for another drop of rain to fall on her. Nodding to herself, she began to run. Across the rickety bridge that at one time would’ve been stable. Across the overgrown path that would’ve been walked upon daily. Stopping at the door, she gently shook the doorknob to see if it would budge. It did. The wind began to roar. Her jacket flapped in the wind, reminding her that time was of the essence if she wanted to remain dry. This felt nothing like the rainstorms from home. This was untempered rage. The droplets began to fall, and Compass Rose said her sorry’s to Fluttershy. Opening the door wide, it threatened to swing off it’s hinges. In one swift motion, Rose shut the door, falling onto it’s wood after doing so. krAKOOM! The cottage shook. It seemed to Rose like all hell was breaking loose, and it might as well just was. Galestorm winds now threatened to tear down the house, their force bringing the entire cottage to creak uncontrollably. The walls slanted to wherever the wind seemed to be pointed, and Rose began to breathe heavier and heavier against the main door. To her, this wasn’t just a thunderstorm. This was madness. Spotting a torn up couch in the living room, Compass Rose gulped. She closed her eyes, formulating her plan on her lips before, in one quick dash, rushed to the sofa. Quickly edging behind it, she put enough space for her to do the one thing she could do as an earth pony. Buck. crrRACK! For one second, Rose thought the couch would split in two from the kick. Luckily, it seemed to have been made strong enough for something even Rose couldn’t fathom. Why it was so sturdy, she would never know. Standing, huffing where the couch had previously been, she eyed the door and the sofa. It was working. Sitting down onto her haunches, she slid up against the wall. This was ridiculous! She loved rain! She loved storms! Why wasn’t this any different? KRABOOM! Oh! Right. That’s why. Wincing, Rose could feel her heart quicken again slightly before sighing. This wasn’t normal. Not normal at all. Storms like these were unheard of. Especially this far inland. The only explanation that Compass Rose could logically find was that this town was on the verge of one of the most dangerous places in the entire world. Looking out the window, she could see the rain coming down with a force she had never witnessed before and would never witness again for as long as she lived. Leaves and branches flew past her peephole, water continually spraying in from outside. Having already donned her goggles in case of emergency, Rose was fine, but she was sure she knew what could’ve happened if she hadn’t. For just at that moment, a shot of mud splattered through the view, clinking hardly against the hardened glass and compressing it against her face. Moving away, Rose gulped. She would not be able to leave the cottage until the storm passed by. That was fine. There was just no way she knew of that could really pass time except for exploring her temporary confines. Rose smiled. That wasn’t a bad-! BOOM! Compass Rose swore she flew six feet into the air. Everything was white in her vision, and blinking or rubbing her eyes didn’t take it away. With ears ringing, she sprawled onto the floor, dazed. Brrrrrnnnnnngggggggg! was all she could hear, as her vision began to fade in. Shades first, the outlines of shapes and the general sense of where everything was. As her pupils began to readjust, the darkness she perceived became what she had been seeing just a few minutes prior. She would never get the chance to recover, for at that moment, a piece of roofing had been precariously dislodged and was only swinging by a few splinters. As soon as Rose woozily got up from the ground, the wood fell on her. For a moment Rose stood, determined as ever to recover, and not quite sure what happened. Before she knew it, she was plainly falling limp to the ground, unconscious. Compass Rose groaned. Her mind was in all sorts of disarray. What the hay happened? Rubbing her sore neck, she could feel the small welt that had formed at the top of her head. Throbbing slightly and painfully, she winced. Shifting slightly, the wood that had fallen upon her was laying haphazardly on her body, and she shook it off. Shaking the cobwebs from her mind, she sluggishly got up. Stretching out her fore and hind legs, she jumped up and down in place a few times before getting her bearings. She was still in the cottage, this much she knew. Looking out the window, she could see everything still glistening with a sheen of water. The wood of the cottage seemed to have been soaked so thoroughly through that the wood on the inside was damp. The earth looked muddied in places, and in others, it only looked richer in minerals and soil. The sun had yet to rise, it’s beginnings faint in the still cloudy skies above. Warily casting her gaze upwards, she could see the part of the roof that had lost its planking. The planking that had fell on her. Another glance to her left and she saw the door still covered by the sofa, yet somehow, it was cracked just the slightest bit open. Frowning, Rose looked at the door a few seconds more, before sighing. Seeing as how there was nothing else she could do about her passing out, she began to note the various details of the cottage and explore its contents. Empty picture frames lay scattered about on various tables and on walls. Empty bookshelves lined the walls, few actual books still remaining. Said books were all illegible, having been in a worse place to withstand nature’s power than a place like the Carousel Boutique. She noted the many bird feeders, scattered branches and twigs for nests, and mini stairs that graced the fireplace, ceiling and walls. A dog basket lay in ruins near the door, tattered pillows and blankets covering a crushed bed of wicker. A few pitchers were on the tables, bird feed bags empty of any seeds. A main rug was strewn on the floor she currently stepped on, but it was soiled beyond what Rose would call “healthy”. Gouges and claw marks were present in everything; the rug, the floor, the stone of the fireplace, and even the ceiling. With all of this, Compass Rose could easily identify the owner to be a veterinarian. Or the very least, a pony that takes care of animals. Closing her eyes and laying a hoof on the mantle of the fireplace, she whisked herself away. She could see squirrels and chipmunks running around, utilizing the mini staircases to their advantage. Cute dogs sticking their tongues out as they rested in the dog basket. Birds of many kinds travelling across the air, eating and socializing with the other animals. All of which was being monitored by a sweet butter yellow pegasus. Wait… Rose thought. A pegasus? The vision quickly collapsed around her as her concentration was focused elsewhere. She had seen a silhouette before when she was reading the sign outside… but she had missed the detail of the pony being a pegasus. One more thing that was odd to Compass Rose. A pegasus grounded by the creatures she took care of. All the pegasi Rose knew where free spirits, unable to stay on the ground for more than a few hours tops. And yet, it seems a pegasus was responsible for taking care of animals, which in large part were not avians or flying creatures of any sort. Glancing at her hoof, she blew on it and rubbed against her coat. Old habits die hard. Silently, she made her way upstairs. The floor creaked and groaned in protest, clearly disliking having weight put onto it after centuries of disuse. The air was saturated to the point where Rose could feel a thin layer of moisture all over her fur, and there were various holes in the second floor that weren’t present down on the first. It made sense really, as the higher levels would be more exposed to the rain and other elements of weather. There was only one room in the cottage. What she would assume to be Fluttershy’s room. At first glance it seemed like nothing special, especially with some of the damage in the walls and the shattered windows from the effects of uncontrollable forces. The bed was still neatly tucked and set. Everything was noticeably damp from the torrential rains of the day before. Everything had nice feeling of spring to it. A chest lay at the foot of the bed, empty save for a few insects and knick knacks. A fireplace was present as well, looking very much like the one downstairs. A pile of decomposed wood lay in the heart of the fireplace, no doubt broken down over time by termites and other bugs. She went over to the desk to inspect it. A small shelf was set into the frame and a few damp papers lay soaked and unreadable. A heart was carved at the crown of the posts, accentuating the fact that this was a peaceful and lovable pony. If it weren’t obvious from the flower vases, water pitchers, and the fact that Fluttershy took care of animals, this seemed to hammer the nail in home. The chair was the worst part, to Compass’ dismay. Feeling it’s soggy texture, she could envision the room’s warmth at it’s prime. An intricate carving set into the wood of the chair, a nice cozy bed to relax in after a day of tiring events, and a fireplace to keep things warm. Alas, it was a time long gone, for the chair still stood, but a shadow of it’s former self. A decomposing artifact that at one time would’ve brought comfort to those who sat in it and utilized the desk. Opening some drawers, she was surprised to see the preserved quality each paper retained. Most of the pages were only slightly touched by the rainfall of the night previous, and because of it she was able to handle the pages just a little less carefully than before. And yet, just as well, many of the pages were damaged. Most were flyers for local events and grocery lists, but she found no diary. She found a singular page, ripped on one of the long edges as if it were taken out of a book. Compass Rose carefully set it atop the pages in the open drawer, not wanting the yet to dry desktop ruining it. In the waxing light of the sun, it was somewhat difficult to read, but it was doable. The 37th of Spring, 1027 C.R., the date read. Eight days earlier than the entry by Rarity from the Carousel Boutique. Setting herself down in a comfortable position, she read it’s contents. Oh dear… um… Twilight said I should write something for posterity in case somepony ever came back… I guess that’s what I’m doing right now. I wasn’t going to write anything here… I didn’t want to talk about my animals acting up or Rainbow moving in with me, but if Twilight says I should… The past few weeks have been rough on all of us. Something in the Everfree has spooked my animals and caused the weather to begin to behave out of control. I can feel it in the shafts of my feathers, and my wings ruffle whenever I step outside. This wasn’t happening just a few weeks ago, so I really wonder why it’s happening now. Rainbow Dash had to move in with me because her cloud house had begun drifting apart on it’s own. At first, she thought it was an elaborate prank by us- her friends, but when she realized it wasn’t, she was very surprised. Twilight has sent letters to Princess Celestia, and I trust Twilight to know what she is doing. Rainbow says to put down that Twilight is an egghead Rainbow! That’s not nice! Sometimes, I want to shout. Rainbow tells me my shouts are more like whispers, but I swear the last time I did shout, it was very loud. Twilight seemed surprised by me. My animals have been growing restless. Even I can sense something is going to happen. It doesn’t feel like a Tirek-level or Chrysalis-level threat, but something we haven’t seen yet. It’s just so strange. Even Angel Bunny seems afraid. He’s usually a little rough around the edges and fearless, but today he was darting around the house, saying sorry to all the animals he had offended and hiding in my mane. Harry the Bear cuddled me close just an hour ago, as if I was a lifesaver or a giant comfort plushie. I don’t think I want to talk about my animals anymore. It makes me want to cry when I try to find out what’s wrong and they only look at me afraid. I just hope things get better soon. Maybe Twilight can find something that will help the animals calm down and fix whatever’s going on. Applejack is inviting us all over for dinner at the barn for some cider and apple treats. She’s so kind. Sometimes, I like to wonder whether she should’ve gotten my Element of Harmony, but honestly, honesty suits her very well. She’s the most honest pony I know, and if there’s anything that can calm some nerves, it’s some signature Apple Family Cider. Rainbow says “If you get the chance, grab some cider and bring it back to share. You know, if we’re still alive or whatever.” I say to just, you know, do whatever you really want to do… Rarity has also invited us to the spa tomorrow, something to follow up dinner today. I think it’s nice, that we’re getting together again after all the busy things we’ve been going through lately. I’m running out of room on this paper so I think I’ll end it here. I hope that this posterior posterity letter is of use to whomever is reading this in the future. Rainbow Dash says Hi! But yeah, I think I wanna say that I’m grateful I have such nice great friends who are always so helpful to me. I hope whoever is reading this also has friends like Rainbow, Twilight, Pinkie Pie, Rarity. I know I’m lucky to have them. Uhm… Always be kind and be a good friend! -Fluttershy The CoppiceApples. Apples and apple trees for as far as she could see. Perhaps it was the way her stomach rumbled that brought her to these orchards. Presumably maintained by the pony named “Applejack”. Another name that rang like a bell in her mind. Fluttershy had been an Element of Harmony. And, if context served any purpose, Fluttershy seemed to be the Element of Kindness. The way her words were formed, the way it was presented and portrayed… Compass Rose did not doubt that she was a kind soul that cared for others. And yet… Rose stared up at an apple as she stood beneath an apple tree. It’s red skin glistened in the sunlight, and it’s delectable quality came from it’s plump figure. Judging by the sheer quantity of apple trees in and of itself, she suspected Applejack must’ve been apple farmer. If her name was any indication at all. Rose shook her head. She was getting sidetracked. Turning around, she positioned herself in front of the tree. With a quick jab of her hind leg against the tree’s trunk, a few apples fell. Not enough to send all the apples falling, but enough for Rose to devour. After all, her food was beginning to run in short supply. Any longer than today, she estimated, and she would have had to start rationing her food even more than she already had been. Finding a nice spot against a tree that had been somewhat dried by the effects of the sun, Rose sat down, taking her saddlebags off. Leaning against the trunk, she could feel the flowing energy that radiated from the tree. An energy that spoke volumes of how well the trees had been taken care of in their tenure under the care of an earth pony apple farmer. Sighing, she stared at her saddlebags intently. Opening the flap, she rummaged through the contents of her bag before pulling a little picture book. Smiling nostalgically at it, she let her hoof run across the fading text and the roughed up edges. The Mare in the Moon and the Elements of Harmony. A classic. She remembered when her mother first read the story to her. How one of the princesses of old, Celestia, had to banish her sister because she had been corrupted. How a thousand years later, the same princess asked a big favour of her student and asked her to find the Elements of Harmony. How the student had had her mind set on thinking that friends were of no use to her, but that all changed when she met five other ponies. Ponies who would eventually come to aid her in her venture into the dangerous menacing Everfree, facing off against manticores, sea serpents, ghastly trees and menacing shadows of ponies. Getting into scrapes, and eventually facing off Nightmare Moon. And then, with the power of friendship, they defeated her, purging the evil from her and restoring her true self back. The sovereign of the night, Princess Luna! Whenever Compass Rose closed her eyes, she could envision how the journey had taken place. The first adventure of the Elements of Harmony after a thousand years. The redemption of Princess Luna. The start of something great. A story she had regarded as just that, a story. A story with a moral of looking for the good in oneself and the value of friendship. In her travels, Rose had met many people. She could still remember the words a wise old stallion she had met so many moons ago, when she had started her journey as an explorer. The stallion had said that “Every story ever told really happened. Stories are where memories go when they’re forgotten.” At the time, she hadn’t really understood what he meant by that. But now… An epiphany of thoughts and words... Her heroes were her manifestation of everything she could hope or dream to be. To find out that these fairytales were more than fantasy was more than she could’ve ever dreamed of, but it inexplicably saddened her beyond measure. Sighing, she closed the picture book, shutting her eyes and placing her hooves on the ground. In an instant, she was whisked away in her musings of how things would’ve… and should’ve been. A bright sunny day would’ve shone down on the orchards, baskets strewn under the trees in a uniform manner. A single orange pony working hard to be efficient and effective getting ready to buck a tree. With one single buck, the tree would’ve shaken, and all the apples harvested. In the distance, another loud smack could be heard and the stetson-wearing mare would’ve smiled at the sight of something a ways away. Applejack. She must’ve been Applejack. Packing her book away in it’s safe place, her gaze lingered on her saddlebags a moment longer before she put them back on. Looking up at the sky, she studied the position of the sun. Early morning still. Not high enough for noon. She trudged along, studying the many apple trees. All were mostly the same. A small grove that was fenced off in a clearing was unusually devoid of live trees, and only a few seemed to actually have leaves. Strange dark clouds hovered above the secluded orchard, visible sparks of lightning weaving through the clouds layers. She could see a barn in the distance. A barn that she knew would’ve housed the ponies who lived here. Committing the odd orchard to memory, as she did with all her findings- most of which she took a piece of in one form or another, she headed for it. With an open field surrounding the barn in a wide perimeter, nothing but grass and overgrown paths occupying the empty space, she had no trouble making her way towards it. The grass and the ground was still wet in most spots, a few ditches and grooves in the ground holding puddles of mud and water, she knew most of it was likely undrinkable. Spotting a well just a short trot away, she set herself a reminder to resupply on that front. The barn still stood tall after centuries of resiliency. Parts of the roof were caved in, some boards eaten and rotted away. Some spots still had traces of paint, their original colours still shining through. A nice rosy red. Most of the walls had lost their paint and colour altogether, having been bleached in the sun. White boards remained where paint apps would’ve been present. The barn was still moist from the night previous, and Compass closed her eyes. Putting a hoof up onto the wood, she felt it’s grain. A peaceful scene of farm life burst into her mind’s eye. A chicken keep not far from where she stood housed plump clucking avians, ready to lay eggs at a moment’s notice. The paint was vibrant and sharp, still fresh from a recently applied coat. A wafting smell of indescribable scrumptiousness would’ve filled the air, the scent of cinnamon and apples mixing seamlessly together in a chorus of absolute delight. All the trees were bright green and well kept, the land a nice beige from the constant travelling. An orange building in the distance showed that another farm was not too far away from this vast land ripe for apple farming. Fences were straight and uniform, unyielding to any that didn’t pass through a gate or crossed over. And yet for all it’s glory… it was only an illusion. Taking her hoof off of the wood, the world around her faded away. The colours dulled back. The wood was still decomposing and wilting. The land overgrown. The buildings mere shadows of their former selves. Stepping back a little, she breathed. With a sigh and a wry smile overtaking her face, she moved to the door. Finding it a little bit stuck, she gently tapped the wood with her hoof. When that didn’t work, she closed her eyes, focusing her magic. If she asked nicely… The wood released the door, and Compass Rose smiled. Still got it, she thought, moving into the barn. Inside, everything was musty and dank. Dust covered many surfaces, and it floated in the air across the windows. Much of the wood was still intact, but it was decomposing in some places, moss having grown in. The door had opened up to the living room, and she found herself confronted with a rug that had grown into the floor. A rocking chair that was wilting from age lay centered around a fireplace, the mantel decorated by empty broken picture frames. The kitchen was not much better. Forgotten pans lay in a kitchen sink, both rusting from time and negligence. The table still had four chairs surrounding it, plates still adorning the waxy surface. A few cabinets lay open, a few even having some scratch marks on them. The light filtered through the windows was beginning to strengthen, and Compass Rose looked up. In the distance, behind the tainted glass pane of a window, she could begin to see the emergence of a bright red-orange light appear over the horizon. The sky burst into hues of magentas and blues, heliotropes and lilacs, soft pinks and the last traces of the night. Taking in the rays of sun as they warmed her face, in turn warming up her very soul, she closed her eyes. The gentle heat was nice against her closed eyes, the golden light still piercing the veil over her eyes that were her eyelids. With a deep breath, she smiled. Sunsets always reminded her of home. Of the beach she had visited every morning with the sole purpose of witnessing the glory of the sun, and it’s beauty reflecting off of the rolling waves. The clouds that were ever so present in helping illuminate the sky. With a final contented sigh, she finished her exploring of the main floor. Stopping at the stairwell, she looked up the stairs. Testing each step, she made her way up, and found herself in a short hallway that had a small view of the living room. Five rooms were spread out across the hallway, and she saw a bathroom, it’s door still open. Going to the first room down the hall, it seemed to not have been touched in a long time. A long, long time. Longer than the other rooms. The bed was still neatly tucked after all this time, it’s sheets and framing still in surprisingly good condition. On each side of the bed was a trinket of a sort, one that was a necklace and another that was a simple stetson. the room was otherwise plain and untouched, save for a letter that she had found, a page that had been torn at the edges and set carefully between the items on the bed. The room next to it was just as quaint, and there were more signs of activity. Another rocker, similar to the one downstairs, lay facing the window. Not faring any better, it’s frame was less touched by the earth, but moreso still in disrepair. Needles entwined in cloth mostly eaten away were still there, ready as ever to make a new quilt. A faded green apple could be seen marked on the wall above the headstand, and Compass Rose took it to be the cutie mark of the room’s resident. Finding a faux-leather bound journal, she was disappointed to see it’s contents were smeared from the effects of the humidity and general moisture. It made her wonder how the page on the bed in the previous room was still intact when something like this was beyond repair. Setting it down gently, she left the room. Another room, another bed. This time, a faded view of an apple sliced in half. The bed was nearly twice her size, and it seemed to have accommodated a large pony. If Compass Rose held her abilities to any truth, she would say this belonged to the elder brother. That, and the fact that nopony else but a stallion would have ponyshoes that looked as heavy as the ones that were surprisingly still on the wall. Rusting and hanging by a loose nail, they were impossibly still up. Not daring to let it fall lest it drop straight through the second floor and down to the main, she let them be. She continued to look around, inspecting everything. The bed was still in good shape as well, it’s make of as intricate craftsmanship as the bed in the room previous. Testing the sheets, she drew her hoof back to find it was bone dry. Unsurprising, seeing as how the other beds were just as well, but what did surprise her was the fact that this was three consecutive cases of perfect maintenance. Unlike Fluttershy’s Cottage, it seemed that this house was protected by some earth pony magic. As an earth pony herself, she just knew. The feeling of the wood beneath her hooves. Though the downstairs had been in a state of decomposition, it was because it was closer to the earth. Closer to the ground for Mother Nature to reclaim, and thus, the process was faster. But up here, it would take many more years to begin to break down. Thus was the blessing of earth pony magic. Built to last. And for all it’s worth, Compass Rose was surprised to see a patchwork button-eyed doll set neatly in between the pillows, centered for symmetrical pleasantry. Looking it over, it seemed to have aged well along with everything else in the house. Smiling softly at it, she set it gently back, this time tucking it underneath the sheets as well. Nothing else in the room was of interest. It was simple and straight to the point. One room over, Compass Rose swore her eyes were literally being assaulted by the sheer amount of colours in the room. Posters and sheets covered the walls, all of which had images of activities and pictures on them. And with each image was accompanied a large crayoned X, indicating this little filly had finished it, accomplished it, or it didn’t work. Walking up to one, her eyes nearly bulged at the picture of three fillies lava diving. Even earth ponies weren’t sturdy enough to survive lava! To her relief, she noticed a red X did not appear with the picture. It still bothered her that somepony could even rationalize jumping into lava of all things was a good idea. The bed itself was a little small compared to the others; the perfect size for a post-adolescent filly. Beside the bed was a nightstand, and off to the side was a chest filled with all sorts of trinkets and toys. Pulling one out, she didn’t think too much of it thinking it was a toy, before she squinted her eyes at it in surprise and impressed shock. Why would a filly have a history-accurate steel broadsword!? Scrutinizingly staring at it in disbelief, she gently placed it back into the chest. Closing the chest with just as much care, she tore her gaze away from it. Best not to dwell on the specifics. In any case, there was a mostly empty wardrobe, with the only items being a few light crimson bows. Beside it just a few paces away was a large vanity. Unsurprisingly, the mirror was warping from ages of lying in the open. On it were even fewer items, and a couple being jars of something Compass Rose couldn’t quite identify. Her best guess? It was tree sap. Why a filly had tree sap in her room? She couldn’t think of a reason for the life of her. Opening a drawer, she found a diary. A diary titled with crayons, ‘The Crusader Chronicles.’ Opening up one entry near the end of it’s written life, she slowly began to widen her eyes at the story told before her. Hang gliding off of a cliff! Apple Bloom, the owner of the diary, went hang gliding off of a cliff with her just-as-daring friends. With no prior experience to boot! Unfortunately for her, the dates were all earlier than the ones she had seen prior, so she knew this was before such a tie where they would’ve needed to leave everything behind. Chuckling at the thought of a few fillies worrying their family, she placed the diary into her satchel. It wouldn’t do for a gem of literature to be left to rot away. When she had the chance, she would copy out all the text that was useable and useful within. All of it seemed amazingly hilarious to her, and she hoped she would get a kick out of reading it. Silently whispering her own thanksgivings to the owner of the diary, she moved on to the final room. This last room bore an insignia of three red apples in a triangular fashion, it’s paint faded and worn away. Set across the headboard of the bed that was stationed beside the door, she also spotted a painting old and cracking, it’s image barely interpretable as a pony frolicking through a field of flowers. Looking around, she found that the room had a great view of the rolling hills and orchards stretched out across the apple farm. The sun had no broken above the horizon, it’s light shining through the warping dirtied windows. Smiling at the morning light that illuminated the room, she looked further around. The room was quite small compared to the others. With only one main window, it seemed homely enough. A desk was set across from the window, faced against a blank wall with the light coming at a pony sitting behind the desk from behind. Above the door and imprinted upon it were more red apples, each styled to be slightly different than the last. On the desk were a few books that she had never seen before. Antiques. Rarities she was sure she would not find anywhere else unless she journeyed to the shining capital of Canterlot or if there was a library around town. Hoofing her way gently through some of their pages, she carefully tucked them away, putting them into her ‘Safekeeping’ pocket. Finally, she found a diary. The diary of Applejack. A member of the Apple family, and apple enthusiast. It detailed many parts of her life with her five best friends, going to galas, traveling places, saving ponies and defeating evil villains. Just like the stories she read in her picture books. Even now, she couldn’t really believe what she was reading. The fact that this even existed, and everything else, blew the mind of her inner child. It was like all of her dreams were coming true… but they were already dead. Finally, she came upon the last entry in the book. The next page was ripped at the spine, and, seeing the shorn edges, brought out the page she had found lying on the bed of the other room. Laying it in the diary, the edges nearly matched perfectly, save for the stray rip and fraying that made it imperfect. Finally having found the missing pieces, she began to read the last entries. Dear Diary, I don’t know why I’m still writing in here. We’ve got to leave almost anything we got, only bringing the essentials. Twilight keeps telling us to bring our diaries and journals and the like, but I just got this gut feeling that we need to leave it all behind. Us friends, we’ll never forget the times we spent together. But other ponies may not have the same benefit of learning the same lessons we did if we keep em to ourselves, which is why I’m leaving this here. For others to find. Everypony else agrees with me. Pinkie especially, for some reason. Something about an ‘explorer from the future’ that might stumble upon alla this here diaries and journals. Which reminds me that she’s going to be throwing one last party as a town in Sugarcube Corner. One last hurrah for the township of Ponyville. One last party in our homes. I’m not much of a writer. I sure like to speak my mind but I ain’t one for writing words. I will say this, though. The forest near the orchards have been… I can barely feel stable when I move near them, and it scares me. Something has been happening. Something big. And I think Twilight may be right about leaving. Anyways, I don’t think I have anything more to write here. There really isn’t much else to say. If somepony out there is reading this… I hope you benefit from the stories that we’ve left behind. Maybe one day, we’ll come back and get these. And… I guess that’s all I have to say about that. This is Applejack, signing off. … … … Dear Ma and Pa, I don’t know if we’ll ever come back… but I… I want you to know how much of an inspiration you were to me. How much y’all meant to my brother, to Big Mac. I want you to know that we forgive you. I want you to know that Apple Bloom grew up to be a fine young mare, strong headed just like me and you. That she found her purpose in life. To help other ponies. I want you to know that we’ll’ve gone to another place. Another land. One where we’ll be happier and safer. As much as want to stay at these age old apple farms… we just can’t no more. I want you to know that we love you, and you will always be our Ma and Pa. Applejack Big Macintosh Apple Bloom Granny Smith Author's ForewordAuthor's Foreword I'd like to say that this was an interesting piece to write. It started out for an idea as a one-shot; just something that would end in 1-3000 words where the main OC ends up reading a document left behind by the entire mane six, but it became what it is right now. Truth be told, I really enjoyed writing this. The moment I started the first chapter, though, I found myself getting carried away, and I found my word count rising and rising and I eventually knew that it would be more than just a simple one-shot. Thinking on it while I was finishing writing, I also realized this was a somewhat fitting story that could have worked for the Scribblefest 2017, but it doesn't exactly fit the bill. So yeah, here you go, a new story. My labour of love. Take what you will from it, I thought it would be a refreshing deviation from what I always write: mindless comedic or random one-shots. It was a nice experience to actually write something like this, fresh from the forges of my mind, and it is definitely helping me in the front of one day getting myself to publish a book. Each new story I write is another step in reaching that goal. I encourage any of you aspiring to write out there to keep going! You'll get there one day! Anyways, I'll let you all get to the story. I just wanted to put something her so you all knew what I thought about it. This story was written in GDocs, and I will be creating and publishing chapters every few days. Cheers! -Doctor Disco
The CarouselCompass Rose stood at a fork in the road, squinting up at the position of the sun. Noon. It was noon. Taking out her canteen to drink, she took a long draught before corking it once more. It just wouldn’t do to drink all of her water without having found a replenishable source. Glancing down the road she intended to venture, she could see the forest overtaking the land, encroaching onto the main road as far up as the path just a few hundred metres ahead of her. As her gaze shifted, it was clear what the main catalyst to the overgrowth was. The Everfree. A place where monsters are born, or so she was told. It was stories like those that gave a sense of awe and wonder to her childhood. They were what kept her up at night having nightmares, or dreams of exploring ruins and fighting them herself. Legends of six mares and their quest to bring Harmony and Friendship to all those who would listen, and her dream to become just like one of them. Fighting off evil villains and monstrous beasts, keeping balance in the world around them, saving the world; nothing that held any credence. Tales to astonish. Only tall tales. Stories that had long since faded with time. Long since faded with age. That had long since died with the ponies that lived them. Compass Rose didn’t come out here to prove them wrong, or to prove them right. She didn’t come to disrespect the dead and riotously disrupt the landscape, nor was she in any mindset to do anything of the like. She had come out here to explore. She had taken so many long hours convincing her exploration guild to let her come back here. To let her come back to what was once known as Ponyville. Rose had fought. They told her there was nothing to come back to. They told her nothing was left behind. They told her it was all gone. That all of it was explored, and that there was no more to be had. Of course, that was a lie. It was always a lie. Nopony had come to know these ruins since they first fell. Left to grow on their own by nature’s power. All the records, if dug deep enough, showed no indication of any attempts at searching the Old World. The stories people, not just ponies, shared were from those that remained yet from those times of benevolent sovereignty and harmony. Just by looking at the path she traversed now, it was clear. Compass Rose was the first to come here in a long time. A very, very long time indeed. The crumbling monument of a once great crystal palace stood drearily at the center of the village. The crystal itself weathered and worn, it’s luster all but a memory. The houses stood as memoirs of joyful days long gone, their sagging roofs and sunbleached colours a testament to the effects of time. Standing from a distance, it beckoned her to come forward. Grass and saplings had taken root where the path would’ve once been clear. Rose knew where she was stepping, but she tread carefully just the same. There was no telling what traps lay hidden underneath, set by the forest itself. Grass knots and sinkholes, an ambush by animals or the common timberwolf. She could never be too careful, and she stayed close to the shade provided by the canopy of nearby trees. Even then, she remained vigilant, never staying in one spot for too long. To remain still may have spelled a death sentence in open areas like this, and she wasn’t planning on doing so right then. A sign lay crooked, still standing high with one post of a foot thick of wood. The other leg had been eaten away by termites and rot, the one still standing not far behind. “We..ome .o P..yv..l.e” the sign read. Letters were missing, and those that remained were only barely legible. Faded and worn away. Compass Rose tread towards it with a wonder and sadness in her eyes, seeing for the first time an artifact, a true memory of the olden days. She felt her hoof along its grain, and she breathed in the scent it gave off. Green. It smelt like green. Images of old tree stumps covered in moss and the memory of long days out venturing filled Compass’ mind, and she smiled morosely at the sign itself. All that was needed to divine it’s past was a good imagination; she could see the ponies that would’ve broken into happiness at the sight of the post. “Welcome to Ponyville!” It would have portrayed brightly, inviting new tenants and visitors to enjoy their stay. A freshly trodden path, continuously being travelled and stepped to enter and exit. Well kept borders to avoid overgrowth and lovingly maintained houses that could only keep one smiling. Bright palettes of pigments decorating everything as far as the eye could see. Compass Rose opened her eyes and found everything was back to normal. A decrepit failing town, abandoned by those who lived within it in a time gone by. Roads rocky and grassy from the lack of equine interference. Pieces of life scattered every which way and that; a reminder of how things had been. Stepping back onto the main road, no longer clear of obstacles but covered in foliage, grass and flora of all kinds, she took in the sights around her. Houses that all stood as a reminder of what life used to be like. A scooter resting on the corner of a home, grasped in roots and vines by the ground it used to roll across. Several houses had their roofs caved in, the shingles having been worn away by time and weather alike. Beams that once held the support of said roofs lay crack and splintered, left to rot and be reclaimed by the land it was taken from. Other houses had their glass shattered inwards, no doubt from the freezing and refreezing of the panes from countless moons and winters. Some doors were bashed in, presumably by animals that sensed the food and treasures that had lain within. And others yet seemed to have withstood the test of time, standing tall and proud as the day they were first erected. One such house was one that was shaped out to look like a carousel, with spindly stanchions stretching from the ground up holding the canopy outward and in place. The roof looked to be of durable material, at first glance fabric. Upon closer inspection however, it looked to be carefully designed hardwood or some sort of light metal. An intriguing combination of elegance and practicality. Not being able to withstand her inner explorer, she creaked open the front door. The layer of dust from the door alone told her everything she needed to know. She was the first customer this place had seen in ages. Customer, as it were, because this was a store. Telltale signs of a textile business with a cashier up front and ponyquins in the back. Some of the models had unfinished dresses and suits tapered onto them in the hopes of one day being finished. Mothballs hung off of the clothes themselves, a few laying on the ground, with countless dust bunnies in sight. Chests lay scattered about, fabric still trailing from within as they had been hastily packed and closed. Opening one up, she was more than surprised to see a multitude of precious gemstones. Opening a few more, her eyes glimmered with the loot. Would it be right to rob the dead, though? The long forgotten and unremembered? With a sigh, she closed them all up, save for the first one. Taking a hoofful of sapphires, rubies, peridots, and other unnamed crystals, she closed her eyes. Praying for those she was taking from and asking for a blessing, Compass Rose placed them gently into the treasure pocket of her knapsack. Upstairs was a whole ‘nother story, literally and figuratively. A few rooms were scattered along a fair corridor, and only two seemed to have been occupied. Opening the seemingly unoccupied rooms, she could only see the same items: a bed, a side table, a desk, and a quaint wardrobe; all for guests. The two that did seem have residents were very telling to say the least. The room she was most interested in seemed to have been occupied by an adult; a mare like herself. A somewhat lavish four poster bed was set to the side, facing a desk absolutely covered in notes and drawings. More ponyquins were present to the left of a repository of fabrics. A few rolls were still unused, others haphazardly cut from, and even more devoid of any at all. Some drawers were slightly open, and the ponyquins had rough sets of clothing on them; the makings of a fashion line. Peering at the desk filled with post-its, notes and a sewing machine, she found a journal to it’s side. Daring to crack it open, it’s pages crinkled and shuddered at the effort. Many of the lines were written in perfect precision, each letter blending into the next. To her expectation, a few of the pages crumbled to pieces at the mere touch of her hoof, and many others brittle enough to warrant the same if it weren’t for her gentle touch. Watching as the dates at which each entry was set grew and the amount of remaining pages grew smaller, she ended up at the bookmarked entry. The final one as far as she could see, not careless enough to attempt to bristle through the rest of the pages to prove her theory correct. Compass Rose found herself drawn to the date at the top, silently muttering it to herself. The 45th of Spring, 1027 C.R. By her calculations, it meant this was at least two hundred years old. A lifetime away. She suddenly realized just how old this town was, and how everything should truly be worn away by Mother Nature by now. Of course, if her studious mind had any credit to her researching, everything was still here because of the ambient magic still present from the days ponies and other creatures used to live here. The page itself dared to crumble in her hold, and Compass Rose held her tongue on her top lip as she gently let the entry settle down. Brown and a little worn with age, it’s own appearance didn’t seem like much. Yet Rose knew it was special. The last entry before something happened to make it so she never visited her journal again. The writing was notably a little less refined than previous pages, but it still retained its elegant prose. Dear Diary, Today was an interesting day. Something happened… I’m still not quite sure what it was, but it has shaken everypony up. It leaves one to wonder what’s going to happen now. Even as I am writing this, I prepare my belongings with my little sister Sweetie Belle in anticipation of departure. Twilight had said it was nothing more than a small shift in the wind, so to speak. I think it’s much more than that. If she of all ponies, one of the most rational and book-smart (or ‘egghead’, as Rainbow would say) that I know of is preparing to leave Ponyville, then it must be bad. We have all lived here for nearly our entirely lives, minus Twilight and Spike as well as new tenants for obvious reasons, so it is… It’s a lot more difficult to say goodbye than I thought. Not just I am leaving. Everypony is. Everypony in Equestria, moving. A migration of pony society. Everypony. It’s surprising, actually, how well prepared everypony was in taking the news. Maybe it’s because some were relieved to finally get some peace and quiet since moving near the Everfree. I’m not going to lie, it is a place that is quite like no other, but still. Maybe we can come back one day, live here again. That would be nice. Unfortunately, that does not seem the case. It looks like we’ve finally filled our stay. The land is kicking us out. Applejack was very surprised when she saw her apples not coming down in one swift buck, as well as realizing that she couldn’t control a saplings growth anymore. Rainbow herself was baffled by the intensity some of the clouds had in being corralled. As if to add insult to injury, the animals that Fluttershy has taken to caring for have been growing more restless each and every day. She assures us that it is just a passing phase, and that this always happens around the same time of the year. The way her eyes drooped and her expression faltered is enough to tell us all that she knows just as much as us that something is happening. At least my sister will be in the company of the Crusaders. Celestia knows what would happen if I let that filly sit still for more than a fraction of a second, especially while travelling. And if you are reading this, whoever is out there, if I have come back for this diary, I would like to say thank you. Thank you for living. And thank you for remembering. The best of regards, Rarity
The CottageThe ground felt soft, like putty beneath her hooves. Knowing the feeling, Compass Rose glanced up in time to see a cloud cover the sun, illuminating it like a flashlight on some cotton. Smiling, Compass Rose breathed in. The faint scent of petrichor. Looking at the distance above the expanse of the Everfree was a haze of grey. The haze that Rose knew to be rain. The ground was beginning to get ready in preparation for the precipitation. It always happened. First, the clouds would begin to move. Second, the ground would soften up. Then, rainfall. And she loved it. The droplets of water that remained on leaves and petals after fresh rain. The way it cooled the fur and skin on a hot summer’s day. The puddles that would appear and she would splash around in for the sake of nostalgia. Welcoming the change in weather, she noted the sparse separation of the clouds that was quickly closing up as the wind kicked its head. The letter had mentioned a cottage. A cottage near the Everfree. A cottage owned by a pony named Fluttershy. This intrigued Compass Rose because the Everfree was no normal forest. Even back in the days of the Solar Reign, it remained a wild card. An uncontrollable, unpredictable factor. Pegasi could not control the weather or safely fly above it. Earth ponies found their manipulation of the elements erratic and widely unusable. Unicorns were the only one’s that stood a real chance, but even then, the forest seemed to have grown an immunity to most types of magic. Of course, these were all things Rose knew from her studies. Reading about it was one thing, entering it seemed to be a whole different world. It had even said so in one of the books she had read before departing. Something along the lines of “I have had personal experience, venturing into the Everfree on my own with knowledge I had pulled from textbooks. And let me just say right now, you can forget anything you learned.” The other room in the place she had been in (finding from sifting through some records that it had been named the “Carousel Boutique”) seemed meant for a child. A young adolescent at most. With a simple bed that was much less extravagant than the older siblings’, it seemed meant for a little filly. With a much smaller vanity and multiple stuffies, it was a nice little place that made Compass Rose’s heart soar. She had had a phase like that. It made Compass Rose wonder if the room belonged to Rarity’s sister, Sweetie Belle. It would seem to be the most logical assumption, as it was the only other room that had any indication of being lived in. The only other room with personal belongings of any kind. The sight of a building near the forest’s edge brought Rose out of her thoughts, as was the telling sign of a cold wind rushing through her mane and the darkening of the sky. If past experience was anything to go by, Rose gave herself ten minutes. Ten minutes before rain fell. Ten minutes before Everything became soaked. Not wanting for any of her gear to undergo extensive water damage. She was fine with getting soaked. Her gear… well, it had taken her longer than she would admit to get an advanced extension charm onto her practical saddlebags. She didn’t want them to get ruined, among other things. A broken sign at the foot of the path stopped her in her tracks. Swinging precariously from a single rusted chain, it seemed to have had writing a long time ago. By the looks of things, Rose would’ve guessed it was enchanted to withstand most encounters with nature and time, just like the board for Ponyville. And yet… the writing was gouged out, only the prominent letters “F” and “C”, consecutively underneath each other in cursive being legible. Feeling the wood in her hoof, Compass Rose sighed. Envisioning the cottage as it was now two centuries before let Rose see it as it should’ve been; at it’s prime. Everything would’ve been in pristine condition. The sign would’ve been as cheerful as any other, prominently displaying the words “Fluttershy’s Cottage”, as that’s who this cottage belonged to. Fluttershy. A name that, alongside Rarity, sounded familiar enough to Rose that she needed to know more. The fast-paced river would’ve been a quaint little stream, properly maintained and kept under control. Seeing the shadow of a pegasus filly hiding behind the comfort of her door. Animals rushing around, enjoying their stay under the ward of Fluttershy. What Rose didn’t get, however, was how this pony could have the name “Fluttershy” and live near one of the most damnable places in existence. Taking her hoof off of the sign, the world came rushing back to her. Just as well too, for a large rain drop splattered onto her muzzle at that moment. Looking up, Compass Rose could see the churning, broiling clouds had already gathered together, darkening everything around her. Quickly casting her eyes to the door, she shifted her gaze back up in time for another drop of rain to fall on her. Nodding to herself, she began to run. Across the rickety bridge that at one time would’ve been stable. Across the overgrown path that would’ve been walked upon daily. Stopping at the door, she gently shook the doorknob to see if it would budge. It did. The wind began to roar. Her jacket flapped in the wind, reminding her that time was of the essence if she wanted to remain dry. This felt nothing like the rainstorms from home. This was untempered rage. The droplets began to fall, and Compass Rose said her sorry’s to Fluttershy. Opening the door wide, it threatened to swing off it’s hinges. In one swift motion, Rose shut the door, falling onto it’s wood after doing so. krAKOOM! The cottage shook. It seemed to Rose like all hell was breaking loose, and it might as well just was. Galestorm winds now threatened to tear down the house, their force bringing the entire cottage to creak uncontrollably. The walls slanted to wherever the wind seemed to be pointed, and Rose began to breathe heavier and heavier against the main door. To her, this wasn’t just a thunderstorm. This was madness. Spotting a torn up couch in the living room, Compass Rose gulped. She closed her eyes, formulating her plan on her lips before, in one quick dash, rushed to the sofa. Quickly edging behind it, she put enough space for her to do the one thing she could do as an earth pony. Buck. crrRACK! For one second, Rose thought the couch would split in two from the kick. Luckily, it seemed to have been made strong enough for something even Rose couldn’t fathom. Why it was so sturdy, she would never know. Standing, huffing where the couch had previously been, she eyed the door and the sofa. It was working. Sitting down onto her haunches, she slid up against the wall. This was ridiculous! She loved rain! She loved storms! Why wasn’t this any different? KRABOOM! Oh! Right. That’s why. Wincing, Rose could feel her heart quicken again slightly before sighing. This wasn’t normal. Not normal at all. Storms like these were unheard of. Especially this far inland. The only explanation that Compass Rose could logically find was that this town was on the verge of one of the most dangerous places in the entire world. Looking out the window, she could see the rain coming down with a force she had never witnessed before and would never witness again for as long as she lived. Leaves and branches flew past her peephole, water continually spraying in from outside. Having already donned her goggles in case of emergency, Rose was fine, but she was sure she knew what could’ve happened if she hadn’t. For just at that moment, a shot of mud splattered through the view, clinking hardly against the hardened glass and compressing it against her face. Moving away, Rose gulped. She would not be able to leave the cottage until the storm passed by. That was fine. There was just no way she knew of that could really pass time except for exploring her temporary confines. Rose smiled. That wasn’t a bad-! BOOM! Compass Rose swore she flew six feet into the air. Everything was white in her vision, and blinking or rubbing her eyes didn’t take it away. With ears ringing, she sprawled onto the floor, dazed. Brrrrrnnnnnngggggggg! was all she could hear, as her vision began to fade in. Shades first, the outlines of shapes and the general sense of where everything was. As her pupils began to readjust, the darkness she perceived became what she had been seeing just a few minutes prior. She would never get the chance to recover, for at that moment, a piece of roofing had been precariously dislodged and was only swinging by a few splinters. As soon as Rose woozily got up from the ground, the wood fell on her. For a moment Rose stood, determined as ever to recover, and not quite sure what happened. Before she knew it, she was plainly falling limp to the ground, unconscious. Compass Rose groaned. Her mind was in all sorts of disarray. What the hay happened? Rubbing her sore neck, she could feel the small welt that had formed at the top of her head. Throbbing slightly and painfully, she winced. Shifting slightly, the wood that had fallen upon her was laying haphazardly on her body, and she shook it off. Shaking the cobwebs from her mind, she sluggishly got up. Stretching out her fore and hind legs, she jumped up and down in place a few times before getting her bearings. She was still in the cottage, this much she knew. Looking out the window, she could see everything still glistening with a sheen of water. The wood of the cottage seemed to have been soaked so thoroughly through that the wood on the inside was damp. The earth looked muddied in places, and in others, it only looked richer in minerals and soil. The sun had yet to rise, it’s beginnings faint in the still cloudy skies above. Warily casting her gaze upwards, she could see the part of the roof that had lost its planking. The planking that had fell on her. Another glance to her left and she saw the door still covered by the sofa, yet somehow, it was cracked just the slightest bit open. Frowning, Rose looked at the door a few seconds more, before sighing. Seeing as how there was nothing else she could do about her passing out, she began to note the various details of the cottage and explore its contents. Empty picture frames lay scattered about on various tables and on walls. Empty bookshelves lined the walls, few actual books still remaining. Said books were all illegible, having been in a worse place to withstand nature’s power than a place like the Carousel Boutique. She noted the many bird feeders, scattered branches and twigs for nests, and mini stairs that graced the fireplace, ceiling and walls. A dog basket lay in ruins near the door, tattered pillows and blankets covering a crushed bed of wicker. A few pitchers were on the tables, bird feed bags empty of any seeds. A main rug was strewn on the floor she currently stepped on, but it was soiled beyond what Rose would call “healthy”. Gouges and claw marks were present in everything; the rug, the floor, the stone of the fireplace, and even the ceiling. With all of this, Compass Rose could easily identify the owner to be a veterinarian. Or the very least, a pony that takes care of animals. Closing her eyes and laying a hoof on the mantle of the fireplace, she whisked herself away. She could see squirrels and chipmunks running around, utilizing the mini staircases to their advantage. Cute dogs sticking their tongues out as they rested in the dog basket. Birds of many kinds travelling across the air, eating and socializing with the other animals. All of which was being monitored by a sweet butter yellow pegasus. Wait… Rose thought. A pegasus? The vision quickly collapsed around her as her concentration was focused elsewhere. She had seen a silhouette before when she was reading the sign outside… but she had missed the detail of the pony being a pegasus. One more thing that was odd to Compass Rose. A pegasus grounded by the creatures she took care of. All the pegasi Rose knew where free spirits, unable to stay on the ground for more than a few hours tops. And yet, it seems a pegasus was responsible for taking care of animals, which in large part were not avians or flying creatures of any sort. Glancing at her hoof, she blew on it and rubbed against her coat. Old habits die hard. Silently, she made her way upstairs. The floor creaked and groaned in protest, clearly disliking having weight put onto it after centuries of disuse. The air was saturated to the point where Rose could feel a thin layer of moisture all over her fur, and there were various holes in the second floor that weren’t present down on the first. It made sense really, as the higher levels would be more exposed to the rain and other elements of weather. There was only one room in the cottage. What she would assume to be Fluttershy’s room. At first glance it seemed like nothing special, especially with some of the damage in the walls and the shattered windows from the effects of uncontrollable forces. The bed was still neatly tucked and set. Everything was noticeably damp from the torrential rains of the day before. Everything had nice feeling of spring to it. A chest lay at the foot of the bed, empty save for a few insects and knick knacks. A fireplace was present as well, looking very much like the one downstairs. A pile of decomposed wood lay in the heart of the fireplace, no doubt broken down over time by termites and other bugs. She went over to the desk to inspect it. A small shelf was set into the frame and a few damp papers lay soaked and unreadable. A heart was carved at the crown of the posts, accentuating the fact that this was a peaceful and lovable pony. If it weren’t obvious from the flower vases, water pitchers, and the fact that Fluttershy took care of animals, this seemed to hammer the nail in home. The chair was the worst part, to Compass’ dismay. Feeling it’s soggy texture, she could envision the room’s warmth at it’s prime. An intricate carving set into the wood of the chair, a nice cozy bed to relax in after a day of tiring events, and a fireplace to keep things warm. Alas, it was a time long gone, for the chair still stood, but a shadow of it’s former self. A decomposing artifact that at one time would’ve brought comfort to those who sat in it and utilized the desk. Opening some drawers, she was surprised to see the preserved quality each paper retained. Most of the pages were only slightly touched by the rainfall of the night previous, and because of it she was able to handle the pages just a little less carefully than before. And yet, just as well, many of the pages were damaged. Most were flyers for local events and grocery lists, but she found no diary. She found a singular page, ripped on one of the long edges as if it were taken out of a book. Compass Rose carefully set it atop the pages in the open drawer, not wanting the yet to dry desktop ruining it. In the waxing light of the sun, it was somewhat difficult to read, but it was doable. The 37th of Spring, 1027 C.R., the date read. Eight days earlier than the entry by Rarity from the Carousel Boutique. Setting herself down in a comfortable position, she read it’s contents. Oh dear… um… Twilight said I should write something for posterity in case somepony ever came back… I guess that’s what I’m doing right now. I wasn’t going to write anything here… I didn’t want to talk about my animals acting up or Rainbow moving in with me, but if Twilight says I should… The past few weeks have been rough on all of us. Something in the Everfree has spooked my animals and caused the weather to begin to behave out of control. I can feel it in the shafts of my feathers, and my wings ruffle whenever I step outside. This wasn’t happening just a few weeks ago, so I really wonder why it’s happening now. Rainbow Dash had to move in with me because her cloud house had begun drifting apart on it’s own. At first, she thought it was an elaborate prank by us- her friends, but when she realized it wasn’t, she was very surprised. Twilight has sent letters to Princess Celestia, and I trust Twilight to know what she is doing. Rainbow says to put down that Twilight is an egghead Rainbow! That’s not nice! Sometimes, I want to shout. Rainbow tells me my shouts are more like whispers, but I swear the last time I did shout, it was very loud. Twilight seemed surprised by me. My animals have been growing restless. Even I can sense something is going to happen. It doesn’t feel like a Tirek-level or Chrysalis-level threat, but something we haven’t seen yet. It’s just so strange. Even Angel Bunny seems afraid. He’s usually a little rough around the edges and fearless, but today he was darting around the house, saying sorry to all the animals he had offended and hiding in my mane. Harry the Bear cuddled me close just an hour ago, as if I was a lifesaver or a giant comfort plushie. I don’t think I want to talk about my animals anymore. It makes me want to cry when I try to find out what’s wrong and they only look at me afraid. I just hope things get better soon. Maybe Twilight can find something that will help the animals calm down and fix whatever’s going on. Applejack is inviting us all over for dinner at the barn for some cider and apple treats. She’s so kind. Sometimes, I like to wonder whether she should’ve gotten my Element of Harmony, but honestly, honesty suits her very well. She’s the most honest pony I know, and if there’s anything that can calm some nerves, it’s some signature Apple Family Cider. Rainbow says “If you get the chance, grab some cider and bring it back to share. You know, if we’re still alive or whatever.” I say to just, you know, do whatever you really want to do… Rarity has also invited us to the spa tomorrow, something to follow up dinner today. I think it’s nice, that we’re getting together again after all the busy things we’ve been going through lately. I’m running out of room on this paper so I think I’ll end it here. I hope that this posterior posterity letter is of use to whomever is reading this in the future. Rainbow Dash says Hi! But yeah, I think I wanna say that I’m grateful I have such nice great friends who are always so helpful to me. I hope whoever is reading this also has friends like Rainbow, Twilight, Pinkie Pie, Rarity. I know I’m lucky to have them. Uhm… Always be kind and be a good friend! -Fluttershy
The CoppiceApples. Apples and apple trees for as far as she could see. Perhaps it was the way her stomach rumbled that brought her to these orchards. Presumably maintained by the pony named “Applejack”. Another name that rang like a bell in her mind. Fluttershy had been an Element of Harmony. And, if context served any purpose, Fluttershy seemed to be the Element of Kindness. The way her words were formed, the way it was presented and portrayed… Compass Rose did not doubt that she was a kind soul that cared for others. And yet… Rose stared up at an apple as she stood beneath an apple tree. It’s red skin glistened in the sunlight, and it’s delectable quality came from it’s plump figure. Judging by the sheer quantity of apple trees in and of itself, she suspected Applejack must’ve been apple farmer. If her name was any indication at all. Rose shook her head. She was getting sidetracked. Turning around, she positioned herself in front of the tree. With a quick jab of her hind leg against the tree’s trunk, a few apples fell. Not enough to send all the apples falling, but enough for Rose to devour. After all, her food was beginning to run in short supply. Any longer than today, she estimated, and she would have had to start rationing her food even more than she already had been. Finding a nice spot against a tree that had been somewhat dried by the effects of the sun, Rose sat down, taking her saddlebags off. Leaning against the trunk, she could feel the flowing energy that radiated from the tree. An energy that spoke volumes of how well the trees had been taken care of in their tenure under the care of an earth pony apple farmer. Sighing, she stared at her saddlebags intently. Opening the flap, she rummaged through the contents of her bag before pulling a little picture book. Smiling nostalgically at it, she let her hoof run across the fading text and the roughed up edges. The Mare in the Moon and the Elements of Harmony. A classic. She remembered when her mother first read the story to her. How one of the princesses of old, Celestia, had to banish her sister because she had been corrupted. How a thousand years later, the same princess asked a big favour of her student and asked her to find the Elements of Harmony. How the student had had her mind set on thinking that friends were of no use to her, but that all changed when she met five other ponies. Ponies who would eventually come to aid her in her venture into the dangerous menacing Everfree, facing off against manticores, sea serpents, ghastly trees and menacing shadows of ponies. Getting into scrapes, and eventually facing off Nightmare Moon. And then, with the power of friendship, they defeated her, purging the evil from her and restoring her true self back. The sovereign of the night, Princess Luna! Whenever Compass Rose closed her eyes, she could envision how the journey had taken place. The first adventure of the Elements of Harmony after a thousand years. The redemption of Princess Luna. The start of something great. A story she had regarded as just that, a story. A story with a moral of looking for the good in oneself and the value of friendship. In her travels, Rose had met many people. She could still remember the words a wise old stallion she had met so many moons ago, when she had started her journey as an explorer. The stallion had said that “Every story ever told really happened. Stories are where memories go when they’re forgotten.” At the time, she hadn’t really understood what he meant by that. But now… An epiphany of thoughts and words... Her heroes were her manifestation of everything she could hope or dream to be. To find out that these fairytales were more than fantasy was more than she could’ve ever dreamed of, but it inexplicably saddened her beyond measure. Sighing, she closed the picture book, shutting her eyes and placing her hooves on the ground. In an instant, she was whisked away in her musings of how things would’ve… and should’ve been. A bright sunny day would’ve shone down on the orchards, baskets strewn under the trees in a uniform manner. A single orange pony working hard to be efficient and effective getting ready to buck a tree. With one single buck, the tree would’ve shaken, and all the apples harvested. In the distance, another loud smack could be heard and the stetson-wearing mare would’ve smiled at the sight of something a ways away. Applejack. She must’ve been Applejack. Packing her book away in it’s safe place, her gaze lingered on her saddlebags a moment longer before she put them back on. Looking up at the sky, she studied the position of the sun. Early morning still. Not high enough for noon. She trudged along, studying the many apple trees. All were mostly the same. A small grove that was fenced off in a clearing was unusually devoid of live trees, and only a few seemed to actually have leaves. Strange dark clouds hovered above the secluded orchard, visible sparks of lightning weaving through the clouds layers. She could see a barn in the distance. A barn that she knew would’ve housed the ponies who lived here. Committing the odd orchard to memory, as she did with all her findings- most of which she took a piece of in one form or another, she headed for it. With an open field surrounding the barn in a wide perimeter, nothing but grass and overgrown paths occupying the empty space, she had no trouble making her way towards it. The grass and the ground was still wet in most spots, a few ditches and grooves in the ground holding puddles of mud and water, she knew most of it was likely undrinkable. Spotting a well just a short trot away, she set herself a reminder to resupply on that front. The barn still stood tall after centuries of resiliency. Parts of the roof were caved in, some boards eaten and rotted away. Some spots still had traces of paint, their original colours still shining through. A nice rosy red. Most of the walls had lost their paint and colour altogether, having been bleached in the sun. White boards remained where paint apps would’ve been present. The barn was still moist from the night previous, and Compass closed her eyes. Putting a hoof up onto the wood, she felt it’s grain. A peaceful scene of farm life burst into her mind’s eye. A chicken keep not far from where she stood housed plump clucking avians, ready to lay eggs at a moment’s notice. The paint was vibrant and sharp, still fresh from a recently applied coat. A wafting smell of indescribable scrumptiousness would’ve filled the air, the scent of cinnamon and apples mixing seamlessly together in a chorus of absolute delight. All the trees were bright green and well kept, the land a nice beige from the constant travelling. An orange building in the distance showed that another farm was not too far away from this vast land ripe for apple farming. Fences were straight and uniform, unyielding to any that didn’t pass through a gate or crossed over. And yet for all it’s glory… it was only an illusion. Taking her hoof off of the wood, the world around her faded away. The colours dulled back. The wood was still decomposing and wilting. The land overgrown. The buildings mere shadows of their former selves. Stepping back a little, she breathed. With a sigh and a wry smile overtaking her face, she moved to the door. Finding it a little bit stuck, she gently tapped the wood with her hoof. When that didn’t work, she closed her eyes, focusing her magic. If she asked nicely… The wood released the door, and Compass Rose smiled. Still got it, she thought, moving into the barn. Inside, everything was musty and dank. Dust covered many surfaces, and it floated in the air across the windows. Much of the wood was still intact, but it was decomposing in some places, moss having grown in. The door had opened up to the living room, and she found herself confronted with a rug that had grown into the floor. A rocking chair that was wilting from age lay centered around a fireplace, the mantel decorated by empty broken picture frames. The kitchen was not much better. Forgotten pans lay in a kitchen sink, both rusting from time and negligence. The table still had four chairs surrounding it, plates still adorning the waxy surface. A few cabinets lay open, a few even having some scratch marks on them. The light filtered through the windows was beginning to strengthen, and Compass Rose looked up. In the distance, behind the tainted glass pane of a window, she could begin to see the emergence of a bright red-orange light appear over the horizon. The sky burst into hues of magentas and blues, heliotropes and lilacs, soft pinks and the last traces of the night. Taking in the rays of sun as they warmed her face, in turn warming up her very soul, she closed her eyes. The gentle heat was nice against her closed eyes, the golden light still piercing the veil over her eyes that were her eyelids. With a deep breath, she smiled. Sunsets always reminded her of home. Of the beach she had visited every morning with the sole purpose of witnessing the glory of the sun, and it’s beauty reflecting off of the rolling waves. The clouds that were ever so present in helping illuminate the sky. With a final contented sigh, she finished her exploring of the main floor. Stopping at the stairwell, she looked up the stairs. Testing each step, she made her way up, and found herself in a short hallway that had a small view of the living room. Five rooms were spread out across the hallway, and she saw a bathroom, it’s door still open. Going to the first room down the hall, it seemed to not have been touched in a long time. A long, long time. Longer than the other rooms. The bed was still neatly tucked after all this time, it’s sheets and framing still in surprisingly good condition. On each side of the bed was a trinket of a sort, one that was a necklace and another that was a simple stetson. the room was otherwise plain and untouched, save for a letter that she had found, a page that had been torn at the edges and set carefully between the items on the bed. The room next to it was just as quaint, and there were more signs of activity. Another rocker, similar to the one downstairs, lay facing the window. Not faring any better, it’s frame was less touched by the earth, but moreso still in disrepair. Needles entwined in cloth mostly eaten away were still there, ready as ever to make a new quilt. A faded green apple could be seen marked on the wall above the headstand, and Compass Rose took it to be the cutie mark of the room’s resident. Finding a faux-leather bound journal, she was disappointed to see it’s contents were smeared from the effects of the humidity and general moisture. It made her wonder how the page on the bed in the previous room was still intact when something like this was beyond repair. Setting it down gently, she left the room. Another room, another bed. This time, a faded view of an apple sliced in half. The bed was nearly twice her size, and it seemed to have accommodated a large pony. If Compass Rose held her abilities to any truth, she would say this belonged to the elder brother. That, and the fact that nopony else but a stallion would have ponyshoes that looked as heavy as the ones that were surprisingly still on the wall. Rusting and hanging by a loose nail, they were impossibly still up. Not daring to let it fall lest it drop straight through the second floor and down to the main, she let them be. She continued to look around, inspecting everything. The bed was still in good shape as well, it’s make of as intricate craftsmanship as the bed in the room previous. Testing the sheets, she drew her hoof back to find it was bone dry. Unsurprising, seeing as how the other beds were just as well, but what did surprise her was the fact that this was three consecutive cases of perfect maintenance. Unlike Fluttershy’s Cottage, it seemed that this house was protected by some earth pony magic. As an earth pony herself, she just knew. The feeling of the wood beneath her hooves. Though the downstairs had been in a state of decomposition, it was because it was closer to the earth. Closer to the ground for Mother Nature to reclaim, and thus, the process was faster. But up here, it would take many more years to begin to break down. Thus was the blessing of earth pony magic. Built to last. And for all it’s worth, Compass Rose was surprised to see a patchwork button-eyed doll set neatly in between the pillows, centered for symmetrical pleasantry. Looking it over, it seemed to have aged well along with everything else in the house. Smiling softly at it, she set it gently back, this time tucking it underneath the sheets as well. Nothing else in the room was of interest. It was simple and straight to the point. One room over, Compass Rose swore her eyes were literally being assaulted by the sheer amount of colours in the room. Posters and sheets covered the walls, all of which had images of activities and pictures on them. And with each image was accompanied a large crayoned X, indicating this little filly had finished it, accomplished it, or it didn’t work. Walking up to one, her eyes nearly bulged at the picture of three fillies lava diving. Even earth ponies weren’t sturdy enough to survive lava! To her relief, she noticed a red X did not appear with the picture. It still bothered her that somepony could even rationalize jumping into lava of all things was a good idea. The bed itself was a little small compared to the others; the perfect size for a post-adolescent filly. Beside the bed was a nightstand, and off to the side was a chest filled with all sorts of trinkets and toys. Pulling one out, she didn’t think too much of it thinking it was a toy, before she squinted her eyes at it in surprise and impressed shock. Why would a filly have a history-accurate steel broadsword!? Scrutinizingly staring at it in disbelief, she gently placed it back into the chest. Closing the chest with just as much care, she tore her gaze away from it. Best not to dwell on the specifics. In any case, there was a mostly empty wardrobe, with the only items being a few light crimson bows. Beside it just a few paces away was a large vanity. Unsurprisingly, the mirror was warping from ages of lying in the open. On it were even fewer items, and a couple being jars of something Compass Rose couldn’t quite identify. Her best guess? It was tree sap. Why a filly had tree sap in her room? She couldn’t think of a reason for the life of her. Opening a drawer, she found a diary. A diary titled with crayons, ‘The Crusader Chronicles.’ Opening up one entry near the end of it’s written life, she slowly began to widen her eyes at the story told before her. Hang gliding off of a cliff! Apple Bloom, the owner of the diary, went hang gliding off of a cliff with her just-as-daring friends. With no prior experience to boot! Unfortunately for her, the dates were all earlier than the ones she had seen prior, so she knew this was before such a tie where they would’ve needed to leave everything behind. Chuckling at the thought of a few fillies worrying their family, she placed the diary into her satchel. It wouldn’t do for a gem of literature to be left to rot away. When she had the chance, she would copy out all the text that was useable and useful within. All of it seemed amazingly hilarious to her, and she hoped she would get a kick out of reading it. Silently whispering her own thanksgivings to the owner of the diary, she moved on to the final room. This last room bore an insignia of three red apples in a triangular fashion, it’s paint faded and worn away. Set across the headboard of the bed that was stationed beside the door, she also spotted a painting old and cracking, it’s image barely interpretable as a pony frolicking through a field of flowers. Looking around, she found that the room had a great view of the rolling hills and orchards stretched out across the apple farm. The sun had no broken above the horizon, it’s light shining through the warping dirtied windows. Smiling at the morning light that illuminated the room, she looked further around. The room was quite small compared to the others. With only one main window, it seemed homely enough. A desk was set across from the window, faced against a blank wall with the light coming at a pony sitting behind the desk from behind. Above the door and imprinted upon it were more red apples, each styled to be slightly different than the last. On the desk were a few books that she had never seen before. Antiques. Rarities she was sure she would not find anywhere else unless she journeyed to the shining capital of Canterlot or if there was a library around town. Hoofing her way gently through some of their pages, she carefully tucked them away, putting them into her ‘Safekeeping’ pocket. Finally, she found a diary. The diary of Applejack. A member of the Apple family, and apple enthusiast. It detailed many parts of her life with her five best friends, going to galas, traveling places, saving ponies and defeating evil villains. Just like the stories she read in her picture books. Even now, she couldn’t really believe what she was reading. The fact that this even existed, and everything else, blew the mind of her inner child. It was like all of her dreams were coming true… but they were already dead. Finally, she came upon the last entry in the book. The next page was ripped at the spine, and, seeing the shorn edges, brought out the page she had found lying on the bed of the other room. Laying it in the diary, the edges nearly matched perfectly, save for the stray rip and fraying that made it imperfect. Finally having found the missing pieces, she began to read the last entries. Dear Diary, I don’t know why I’m still writing in here. We’ve got to leave almost anything we got, only bringing the essentials. Twilight keeps telling us to bring our diaries and journals and the like, but I just got this gut feeling that we need to leave it all behind. Us friends, we’ll never forget the times we spent together. But other ponies may not have the same benefit of learning the same lessons we did if we keep em to ourselves, which is why I’m leaving this here. For others to find. Everypony else agrees with me. Pinkie especially, for some reason. Something about an ‘explorer from the future’ that might stumble upon alla this here diaries and journals. Which reminds me that she’s going to be throwing one last party as a town in Sugarcube Corner. One last hurrah for the township of Ponyville. One last party in our homes. I’m not much of a writer. I sure like to speak my mind but I ain’t one for writing words. I will say this, though. The forest near the orchards have been… I can barely feel stable when I move near them, and it scares me. Something has been happening. Something big. And I think Twilight may be right about leaving. Anyways, I don’t think I have anything more to write here. There really isn’t much else to say. If somepony out there is reading this… I hope you benefit from the stories that we’ve left behind. Maybe one day, we’ll come back and get these. And… I guess that’s all I have to say about that. This is Applejack, signing off. … … … Dear Ma and Pa, I don’t know if we’ll ever come back… but I… I want you to know how much of an inspiration you were to me. How much y’all meant to my brother, to Big Mac. I want you to know that we forgive you. I want you to know that Apple Bloom grew up to be a fine young mare, strong headed just like me and you. That she found her purpose in life. To help other ponies. I want you to know that we’ll’ve gone to another place. Another land. One where we’ll be happier and safer. As much as want to stay at these age old apple farms… we just can’t no more. I want you to know that we love you, and you will always be our Ma and Pa. Applejack Big Macintosh Apple Bloom Granny Smith
Author's ForewordAuthor's Foreword I'd like to say that this was an interesting piece to write. It started out for an idea as a one-shot; just something that would end in 1-3000 words where the main OC ends up reading a document left behind by the entire mane six, but it became what it is right now. Truth be told, I really enjoyed writing this. The moment I started the first chapter, though, I found myself getting carried away, and I found my word count rising and rising and I eventually knew that it would be more than just a simple one-shot. Thinking on it while I was finishing writing, I also realized this was a somewhat fitting story that could have worked for the Scribblefest 2017, but it doesn't exactly fit the bill. So yeah, here you go, a new story. My labour of love. Take what you will from it, I thought it would be a refreshing deviation from what I always write: mindless comedic or random one-shots. It was a nice experience to actually write something like this, fresh from the forges of my mind, and it is definitely helping me in the front of one day getting myself to publish a book. Each new story I write is another step in reaching that goal. I encourage any of you aspiring to write out there to keep going! You'll get there one day! Anyways, I'll let you all get to the story. I just wanted to put something her so you all knew what I thought about it. This story was written in GDocs, and I will be creating and publishing chapters every few days. Cheers! -Doctor Disco
