The Drifting Chariot

by WritingSpirit

Rating: everyone
Tags: Original Character, Big Macintosh, Slice of Life, Sugar Belle, Drama, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 5358

A young filly goes on a fishing trip with her parents.

A young filly goes on a fishing trip with her parents.

Winner of the 'Rarity' award for Everfree Northwest Scribblefest 2018

Published 2018-03-03 21:30:06 UTC
Last updated 2018-03-03 21:30:06 UTC

The Drifting Chariot

"Mama, are we there yet?"

The chariot can only drift on for so long.

"Not yet, hun. Just a little longer."

Her gaze stumbled from the quivering pockets of sunlight between the florid leaves, skidding around the pinewood pillars before settling into her destination, entrenched deep within the bosom of this festive forest. It was a terrifying reminder, albeit a necessary one, bestowed by the rabbits with their obsidian stares between their chewing of the greens, the weary cooing of the owls with the boysenberry feathers and the jaded yips of the striped foxes, all conveyed to her in a single afternoon. It lingered in her head for the longest time, and however much she mulled over it, she would never know what to do. She knew, however, that she had to do something, and for a filly her age, that notion alone was enough, even if she believed otherwise.

Pensive was a word they would use to describe her. Many other such words captured her well — precious, cautious, mischievous, gregarious, precocious — but it was only the flames they held, never the words themselves, that she comprehended. Every time those words sank in her head, so do the flames, and the flames scurried across her veins and burrowed into her chest in all the most peculiar ways. She rarely smiled at their touch, for the flames scorched her more times than they warmed her heart. As such, it taught her to always handle her words with care, even if those around her would feel inclined to shove their fires between her eyes.

Melody was too common of a name; there were three others in her school who'd turn their heads to the same tune. Nevertheless, she was Melody Rose Apple, through and through, and she wore her name with pride, as every Apple should. She always made sure of it, considering how nitpicky her aunts can be about these kinds of things. Then again, so was the rest of them, her parents included. In spite of that, she never really understood why it was so important to them: perhaps it was one of those things she'd only figure out when she's older. After all, for a filly her age, there were already so much more important questions that needed to be answered, with one such question coming to the forefront of her mind.

"Mama, are we there yet?"

No matter what, her mother always had the warmest smile. "For the sixteenth time, we'll be there in a while, you little crocodile," the older mare cooed with a twee rasp as she lowered her head and nuzzled her cerise cheeks against her daughter's neck, making Melody giggle. "You're lucky your father's not here to hear all this, honey. I reckon he would be throwing a fit a long time ago."

"But Ma, we've been walking for hours!"

"Melody, we've only been walking for ten minutes."

"But I'm tired!" Melody whined. Her mother merely shrugged, mumbling something underneath her breath, out of earshot of the filly. Pouting, she drew her disdainful gaze down to the auburn river beneath her gliding hooves, the ripples that came with her springy steps scattering the leaves, brown and bountiful, to swirl with the crisp wind. Her spring-green eyes intently followed them, closely observing their lackadaisical journey upwards to the skies and followed them into the clouds, only to be quickly struck back down by a sudden burst of epiphany.

"Mama?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you carry me there?"

A deadpan stare. "All the way there?" her mother inquired, only to sigh when she was presented with a bout of frenetic nodding. "Melody, honey, you know I'm not exactly as strong as your father, right?"

"Please, Mama? Pretty please?"

The filly donned her beadiest eyes and her toothiest grin; the whimsical sigh that followed signaled her simple victory. A triumphant huff left her lips as Melody was gently lifted off the ground, which quickly broke up into a giggling fit when the cyan cloud encapsulating her began pinching at her sides, much to the delight of her equally-mischievous mother. A minute of laughter later, she was carefully settled onto her mother's back, the nicker of satisfaction slipping from her snout earning another fuzzy chuckle from the older mare.

Thus, mother and daughter began the last mile of their journey, ambling across the acres amid autumn's all-encompassing shroud. Melody remained indifferent of the season's spectacles as she was in the past, though this year she knew not to shatter the serenity, instead letting the world simmer freely in passionate silence. Her hooves, dangling by the sides, were absentmindedly swaying to the rhythm of her mother's breezy hoofsteps, while her eyes lazily drifted from the branches and gazed beyond her mother's fleecy, magenta mane bobbing up and down before her, waiting ever patiently for the eventual parting of the trees.

A soft smile swirled off her lips when she spotted a butterfly fluttering towards her from the undergrowth, its flapping wings tessellated in orange and black. It danced a vivacious dance before her eyes, divulging to her its life as a voyaging vagabond, living freely and happily away from its swarm. It even egged her on, with a series of nonchalant twirls, to do the same, wordlessly gushing over on and on about how they were similar in almost every way, and they were similar, verily. Nevertheless, though she found the fires brazenly blaring from its wings tempting to the touch, she opted instead to shake her head. The butterfly understood, as butterflies always do, and it reciprocated with one last pirouette and an amicable farewell before its departure; a spectacle she beheld with a grateful nod before directing her stare ahead once more with her determination untethered.

She knew she couldn't just leave all of this behind.

Not when she had come this far.

"We're here, hon."

Her mother gave a glance over the shoulder as she said that, a light sparkling in her irises. All her life, Melody had seen those valiant amethysts glimmer, yet the filly knew deep down they had lost their true luster a long time ago, perhaps before she had even cast her first glance upon this world. There were times, she came to realize, that the light in her mother's eyes would look... different, eerily so. It was this faded glow, like the flame of a candle at the very end of its life. Right now, like every other time Melody would bear witness to it, the light would seem as if it was ignoring her very existence, or perhaps even abhorring it. All her life, she couldn't help but notice the strained line of soot gathering beneath those coveted gems, conjured by the most ferocious of fires on nights tempestuous and troublesome, and for a short while, those fires even singed her, softly yet painfully all the same. Despite it all, Melody knew her mother to be a good mare with a kind heart, never wavering and never withering however much it may be trampled.

Regardless, even the patience of a good mare can run thin.

"Mama, you're looking at me funny again."

"Again?" her mother muttered, to which the filly nodded. "Huh... why don't you go on ahead, Melody? I'll catch up in a bit."

In glorious glee, Melody leaped off her mother's back and galloped down the final acres of the spiraling forest with a giggle and nary a second thought, skipping out from underneath the last of the shifting branches and simmering leaves. The forest receded, the curtain of trees and bushes parting. Autumn's gentle glare swept in, and with the wind that carried her came the scattering of the birds hiding in the brambles. The feathers of the flock lead her onward, her bright smile becoming ever brighter as her destination, after all those minutes of cantering through the woods, finally came into view.

Within the grand chalice of trees red, orange and yellow blossomed a beautiful curd of bountiful blue, surging out from a sprightly spring seated somewhere in the distant mountains. The sapphire snake viciously tore through the land it traversed upon— in some instances as a raging river, in others a supple stream, only skidding to a rest in few places, one of them being the collapsed caldera she was gazing upon. It was large enough to cradle two cities within its embrace. The coiling waves were gentler here, their caress cold as they seeped and swerved between the colorful assortment of pebbles that make up the beach she was standing upon. As the wind began to die down, sky and water merge as one as an endless abyss of cumulus plateaus forming before the filly's very eyes, almost beckoning her to take a leap of faith.

Nevertheless, nature's majesty upon majesty will never sway Melody's attention away from the invisible horizon.

Lo and behold, a shadow emerged from the nothingness. It gracefully glided across the lake, sturdy and steadfast as it made its approach, leaving behind a rift of dissonance lashing outwards to the water's edge. Melody's eyes, however, were gleefully fixated on another silhouette clambering above it, smaller yet no less burly. As the blackness grew, so did her grin, before she gave in to the buzzing temptation, wrenching her hoof up just to give a frantic wave.

"Papa! Papa, over here!"

"Careful now, Melody," her mother's voice ringed from behind, the older mare stepping out from the underbrush just in time to pull her daughter back from wading into the waters. Her glance reluctantly beckoned the shadow towards their beach, what little left of her smile straining to slink away as opposed to her daughter's, lips tight and taut. Her gaze remained stoic despite the wrinkle in her nerves, the luster coating those soot-lined amethysts long since faded. The silence she served rang harshly alongside the ferrypony's faint tossing of the waves, softening if only because of Melody's squeaks of elation. Together, they watched his arrival; together, they welcomed it. Upon its docking, mother and daughter, hoof in hoof, clambered up the gangplank, their journey as a pair coming to a close.

The chariot drifted onward, still.

"Giddyup!"

"Papa!" Melody exclaimed, giggling wholeheartedly as she was picked up from the ground by the thickest pair of hooves she had ever known, only to shriek loudly in delight when she was suddenly tossed up into the air, before being caught by those very same hooves. Her laughter was a wildfire, delicate yet chipper, easily cracking a grin on both of her parents' wooden lips. With a rich chuckle, her father carefully lowered her down onto the deck of his sailboat, his emerald eyes twinkling despite having lost its former vibrancy.

"Ready for your vacation, Melody?"

"Eeyup~!" she cheerily responded, nuzzling her father's bulky sides. "We're super ready! Right, Mama?"

Another deep, crackling chuckle from the rugged stallion, before he turned his head towards the other mare on board. Emerald met amethyst, this forbidden collision of crystals. It was uneasy, unstable and unbearable all the same, yet Melody watched without a word, her fervid gaze leaping between mother and father with her breath hitched at her throat. The prayers of anxiety in her head swelled to a crescendo, her hooves desperately quivering in place as she prepared herself for the fires to finally burst before her eyes.

But there was never a fire between them.

There was only a meager spark.

"Hey."

"Hey."

The chariot can only drift on for so long.

"I know, okay?" Melody mumbled, frowning at the kildeer perched on the sailboat's railing proudly puffing up the black bands on his neck, before chewing on her lips. "I know."

A chirp, presumptuous.

"Tried that last time. Got grounded."

Another chirp, pitiful.

"Tried that too. Ugh, I don't know what else to do..." she mewled to herself, burrowing her head underneath her hooves, popping back up only to shoot the bird one last grin. "Thanks anyway."

With a chirrup, the kildeer gave her an affectionate nuzzle on her cheek before swooping off, leaving the filly envious of its lackadaisical freedom. Her eyes traced its departure, before bumbling back towards her mother, catching her just in time as she trotted down into the ship's cabin, perhaps to take a nap. On the contrary, her father was seated at the edge of his relaxer with his trusty fishing rod in tow, ready to snatch up the unluckiest of the lake's denizens. Upon noticing her stare, he gave a nod in greeting, before raising a hoof to beckon her over.

"Wanna try it out?" he asked, his fishing rod perking up.

"Can I?" she gawked, the nod she received bringing a flicker in her eyes. "But Mama said... Mama always said that I can only do that when I'm older."

"Seven's old enough by me, sugarcube. Mama'd say the same."

Gleefully, Melody plopped herself by her father's side, the stallion shimmying aside to give away some space. "So do I just—" she began, stopping herself short when her father's large hooves wrapped around hers, clasping the handle of the fishing rod between her dainty soles. With a quaint finesse, her father began wordlessly teaching her, from tying the hook to casting the line. All the while, she eagerly and studiously watched, taking in every simple gesture, every subtle twitch of his joints. All the while, he smiled in patience. With the filly's first cast of her line, father and daughter kicked back their hooves, uncannily so, as they began their long wait, soaked underneath the orange billows of the autumn sunshine.

"How's school, Melody?"

A shrug. "Okay."

"Ain't at all what I heard," her father rumbled, furrowing his brows. "Mama told me already."

Melody chewed her lip as she glanced at the lake, the clouds lowly chuckling and the ripples coarsely snickering at her predicament. Absentmindedly toying with the reel between her hooves, she waited for it to pass, to be left alone with nary a second glance, though her father's stare, however genial, was getting heavier by the minute, to the point where it couldn't be readily ignored. "She started it..." she mumbled after a minute of silence.

"That don't mean ya have to finish it, sugarcube."

"But she called Mama all these bad names! She can't do that! No one can do that!"

A quiet sigh. "Some ponies are gonna do it anyway, and ya right, that filly's wrong to do that. Still, that don't mean you go ahead and let your hooves do the talking, Melrose Apple." Her father's stare fell to the side. "Nothing good ever comes out of that. Only gonna break it more than you fix it, you hear?"

The flames were low, yet they ran deep. The filly nodded firmly, looking down at the floorboards. Another wind picked up, another sigh from her father rumbling alongside it. Neither spoke for a long while; neither could hold onto the silence for long either. Eventually, her father was the first to lose his grip, loudly clearing his throat before asking his next question.

"How's the bakery? You and Mama doing alright together?"

A shrug. "It's okay. We're okay."

"Okay, huh?" he mused on his daughter's words. "Well, if ya say it's okay, then it's okay. S'long as you're helping Mama around and everything. Don't wanna give her too much work to do."

Melody nodded, before chewing on her lips, again. "Papa, why..." her breath hitched when he turned to her. "Why can't you help Mama out at her bakery? Why aren't you home all the time?"

A half-hearted laugh. "Told ya before, didn't I? I'm busy working on the farm, Melody. I can only see you guys when I have the time. Just like right now, ya see? Your aunt certainly knows how to work a stallion down to the bone."

"But then why can't we go live with you? Every time I ask Mama about it, she always says no!"

"W-Well," her father's chortles faltered, the stallion nervously swallowing as he scratched his mane. "Mama's... well... Mama's waiting for the right time. Yes... eeyup, that's it. She... she's waiting for the right moment before we can all be together again. Eeyup, much like waiting for the harvest season to arrive so we could gather the crops. I guess you and I just have to wait for now, sugarcube."

"But how long do we have to wait, Papa?"

"Well, that depends."

"Depends on what?"

"Things."

"What things?"

"Adult things, Melody. Things that only adults understand. Things that no filly at your age should even—" he paused when he noticed her shirking, snatching his exasperated breath back before it can be whisked away. "Melody... sugarcube, things just ain't that simple. Ya see, Mama and I, we... we have a lot of things to sort out between us, a lot of talking to do. Right now, we're still figuring things out, and we ain't gonna try anything until we know for sure that everything will be fine."

"But why? Why can't they be simple? Why can't me and you and Mama just live together?"

"Melody, you have to understand—"

"I don't understand!"

It was a shriek that shook the scales of the world, killing the wailing wind and sending the birds fluttering in a frenzy. Those three words echoed in dissonance, giving the final push needed for the needles to sink into her father's heart. Through the haze of her tears, Melody had mustered a serrated spear of a glare, skewering right through the emeralds that greeted her in times warm and welcome, lost in the meshes of memory. And those emeralds froze over, the sturdy spirit within them shattering in a split second, so much so that her father had tumbled out of his relaxer and onto the floor.

"I don't understand." Melody gritted her teeth, her petrifying stare relentless. "You and Mama promised... you and Mama kept promising, over and over and over and over, but nothing ever happens! Nothing ever changes!"

"Melody—"

"You and Mama..." she sniffled. "You and Mama are the same... you guys keep promising that we'll be together, that we'll be a family together—"

"Melody, we are a family. We are a family and we always will be—"

"No, we're not!"

"What in Celestia's mane is happening out here?!"

The final voice, as ferocious and as fearsome, tore through the lake. Stomping hooves rocked the sailboat as both father and daughter turned to the mare that had emerged from below deck with a groggy yet grim frown of utter indignation, her vengeful amethysts darting from the stallion before falling onto the filly before her. She stopped short when she noticed the dreadful glare that had marred Melody's mellow visage, only to reciprocate with one more vicious, her muzzle wrenching up and her brows puncturing down, the deathly sheen returning to her eyes. Before the older mare could open her mouth, Melody stumbled back and broke out into one last whimper before suddenly galloping off, darting past her mother's hooves and down into the ship's cabin, tears flying in the wind.

Silence returned to the lake, but not peace. Never peace. Never in a single second of eternity would peace ever dare show its face upon this damned lake, for this place was as much of a purgatory as it was a sanctuary. Never in a single second would there be peace upon this paper chariot of war, for the currents of battle were constantly flowing, armistice after armistice wasted away time and time again. With the slam of the door came the distant thundering of the war drums, and in turn, the forlorn collision of amethyst and emerald, their sparks bursting into flame.

Cowering into the corner of a bunk bed, away from the tumultuous battle brewing above, Melody quietly sobbed, eyes clenched shut and ears pressed tightly by her hooves into her head. No matter how far she ran, the fires, a pair, would always reach her, and they'd scorch her from inside, searing into her every nerve, every vein, every brittle bone and joint. All she could do was run, far and fast as her hooves could take her, and yet no matter how far she ran, it was not enough. It was never enough. In the end, the fires consumed her as it did so many times before, leaving her helpless, hopeless.

Nevertheless, the chariot drifted onward, still.

How long? How much longer?

Two questions persistent, two answers absent.

Upon this chariot of war, the princess rested. Sleep was beyond her reach in the wake of hellfire howling, even despite the comfort of her bed. They have grown quiet, yet the echoes remained fresh. So many times, she heard those voices, tame and tender, distorting in the midst of each other. So many times, she heard them at their most vicious and vile, spewing words that no filly her age should know. So many times, she had glimpsed her parents wearing the most twisted of expressions that no rightful filly should have the heart to bear witness to. In all those times, came those two questions.

How long? How much longer?

Upon this chariot of war, of paper and wood burnt to a crisp, Melody Rose Apple rested her ringing head, her red-eyed gaze reaching for the stars. She wanted to believe she had it all figured out, that she knew just what's exactly keeping her parents from being together. After all, they were supposed to be together, weren't they? That's what parents are supposed to do, right? Yet every time Mama and Papa got together, every time they were given the chance to be together once again, it only seemed to be driving them further apart.

"They promised..." she whined, nibbling on her blanket as fresh tears began gathering in her eyes. "They promised..."

"Melody?"

Solemnity strung that voice together. She could hear it well, muffled as it may be. Craning her neck, Melody turned her head to the door in the darkness, across a river of moonlight, her hoof wringing in her sheets. A testy silence began trickling into the cabin, though it was quickly torn apart when she opened her mouth. "Mama?" she called out.

"Melody? Can I come in?"

With her near-silent 'mm-hmm', the door slowly opened, the frazzled and fatigued face of her mother emerging into the shadows, trying its best to muster a smile and failing to do so half a second later. Shambling in, she slowly closed the door behind her. As she stepped into the veil of autumn's moonlight, however, Melody noticed it: the amethysts, glistening in the way it rarely does, with several discolored lines spilling from the edges. A sniffle tore through the silence, loud and ugly and fractured, quite unlike the filly's. With a feverish gasp, her mother settled down next to her, her hooves immediately flying up to her aching temple as she did so.

"Mama?"

"Sorry, I'm—" her mother cut herself short with another haphazard sniffle. "I'm sorry you have to see me like this."

"It's okay."

"It's not," was her response, soft yet stern, coupled with a subtle shake of her head. "It's not okay, Melody. You're still young. There's just so many other things that you could be doing right now, but you're here, listening to me— to us, to everything we're saying... it's not okay, Melody. It shouldn't be."

Melody pondered on her next question for a moment. "Mama, do you..." she swallowed down the last of her hesitation. "Do you hate Papa?"

Her mother blinked, before eliciting a crackling laugh. "Your father? W-Well... no, not really. I..." the older mare paused. "I can't say I hate him, because I don't, I don't hate your father, but it's just... he did some things. Things that I can never forgive him for."

"What things?"

"Adult things."

"You two always say that."

"Did we now?" A chuckle slipped out; a courteous reminder of a better time. "I guess we did, come to think of it. But that's what they are, you see. Adult things. Things little colts and fillies can't think of. Things only grownups would do to each other."

"But he's... family, right?"

A nod. "He is. He's your father, after all."

"So why can't we forgive him?"

"Well, there's a lot of reasons for that, Melody." Her mother gently patted her head, hoof running down the filly's gliding, coral mane. "But the biggest reason of them all is because I want him to be ready for you. I want Papa to be the best Papa he could ever be for you, Melody. When he's at his best... when he's at his best, he can be the nicest, the strongest, the coolest pony in the world. I've seen it before and I... I want you to see it, Melody. I want you to see Papa like that again."

"Really?" Her eyes glimmered at that thought. "What about you, Mama? Are you the best Mama right now?"

"No," was her warm reply, surprising them both. "Not yet, at least. Like your father, I'm trying my best to be your mother. There's just so many things that I'm still figuring out, so many... so many things I've done that I'm trying to sort out. I'm always so worried that I get something wrong, that I've done something wrong, and sometimes I do some stupid things. Some really, really stupid things. But I'm trying to change that now, Melody. For you, for your father, for the sake of this family, I'm trying to change. At least, I think I am."

"I think you're the best, Mama," Melody squeaked, bright eyes burning brighter as she gazed up to her mother, grinning ear to ear. "You're the best Mama ever."

"Am I now?" her mother inquired cheekily, to which she nodded frantically. "I... thank you, Melody. Just... thank you."

"Promise that you'll let Dad come home soon?"

A nod, a smile. "Soon. Promise."

"Promised! You... you promised, Mama... you promised..."

Upon this chariot, the princess rested, the lull of fatigue finally taking her into its embrace. The owls hooted a distant lullaby, the crickets chiming in harmony, all in unison with her mother's faint hum underneath her breath. Into the night, Melody slumbered softly, if not silently, the only symbol of peace that inhabited this secluded lake, cradled in her mother's graceful hooves. Into the night, she dreamed a good dream, one brimful of hope, and of a family reunited, smiling altogether. Into the night, nothing else seemed to matter, nothing else would pester her or worry her. There was nothing she could do, and that... that alone suited her just fine.

Upon this chariot, her guardians stood, the lull of fatigue a constant in their lives. Within their care, Melody slumbered sweetly. Within their care, Melody saw as much joy as she had of despair. Within their care, Melody had seen fires that no filly would ever need to see, blazing and razing all that it could of this paper chariot upon this lake. In the end, they have to be better. Whether they realized it separately or in unison, it didn't matter. They have to be better.

"Hey."

For themselves.

"Hey."

For her.

"She's a good filly."

"Eeyup."

Amethyst rose to meet emerald, softly this time. "Already working herself to the bone at such a young age, all just to try and bring us back together... I don't know what to do with her sometimes, Mac."

A chuckle. "We could always give her what she wants."

"Just because I've warmed up to her doesn't mean you're off the hook, mister."

"She's my daughter, Sugar Belle. I just want her to be happy."

Sugar Belle withheld the urge to scoff. "Is that what it was? I mean, one day, you just show up at my doorstep with baby Melody here and expect me to take care of her because her mother can't do it, for some Celestia-damned reason, because, what, it'll make her happy?"

Big McIntosh shook his head. "No, it's because it's what I want. It's what we want."

"Right, of course it is." A faltering laugh broke forth from her lips. "Sometimes, I don't know if you're being honest or not anymore."

"I am being honest."

She rolled her eyes, a vicious snarl forming on her muzzle. "Not exactly a good track record, Macintosh. You vowed to me, the night you proposed, that I was the only mare you've ever loved."

"And you are, Sugar. You are."

"So how do you explain, for the thousandth time, the fact that I found out you had a thing with some other mare?"

"It was a one-time thing. A mistake on my part." McIntosh's gaze trailed away to the side. "It happened sometime before that night. We didn't think anything would come out of it, Sugar Belle, honest. Melody was an accident, you know all that already. Nevertheless, I vowed to her mother that I'll take care of her, no matter what. That I'll be there for her, no matter what."

"So what were you trying to do?" she questioned lividly. "Why push her to me? Why can't you or Jackie take care of her the whole way, why do I have to be a part of this?"

"Because you're the only mare I've ever loved, Sugar, and I..." he paused to sigh, scratching his mane. "I wanted Melody to be attached to you. I wanted Melody to think of you as her mother and I... I wanted you to think of her as your daughter. As our daughter. So that when we get married—"

"We've called off the engagement, remember?"

"We can always try again. Like you said, we'll have to try our best, won't we?" McIntosh's gaze fell upon her sleeping daughter, a smile of headstrong determination forming on his lips. "To be the best Mama and Papa that Melody could ever hope for. We can be a family, just like what she wanted."

"One built on lies, Macintosh."

"But a happy family nevertheless," he affirmed, reaching out a hoof. "That's enough, isn't it?"

"That's..." Sugar Belle sighed, staring down at the stallion's outreached hoof before turning back to the filly sleeping on the bed. "But she has to know one day. She needs to know that I'm... that this whole time, I'm..."

"She will, but I believe that just like now, she'll always think of you as her real mother, just like how I still think of you as the love of my life."

"Celestia's sake, you're an apple farmer, how could you be so corny?"

"Learned it from the best," he sheepishly replied, the two of them breaking out into a fit of hearty chuckles. "So, what do you say?"

"I'll..." Sugar Belle looked down at her hooves. "I'll think about it."

That really was all he needed to hear. "Eeyup, you do that, Sugar Belle," he replied, trotting out to leave the mare be, stopping only to look over his shoulder once more. "And uh... thank you..." he added.

"For?"

"For trying."

Sugar Belle smiled. "You too."

Upon this chariot, Melody Rose Apple dreamed a wonderful dream. Into the night, she dreamed of hope, of family, of a princess, and of a castle where she lived with the king and queen, all of them happily together. Into the night, she dreamed of how they would spend their days together, whether it be bucking a few apple trees on the farm or baking up a tray of toasty muffins at the bakery. Into the night, she dreamed of how they would come back to this lake, this cradle of water in the middle of the hidden valley, this time without the fires spewing out from their mouths and blazing across the forest as she usually would. Into the night, she dreamed, for there was nothing else she could do.

There was nothing she ever needed to do, because for a filly her age, a dream was all she ever really needed.

Thus and so, the chariot shall drift onward, forevermore.