There was a distinct lack of movement at Sweet Apple Acres.
This wasn’t normally a concern for those who occupied the homestead or wandered by the front gate, but on this particular day, at this particular hour, in this particular weather, for two particular ponies named Applejack and Rainbow Dash, it was torture.
“There’s a wasp flying around you.”
“There ain’t no wasp flying around me.”
Rainbow Dash paused, then smirked. “Worth a shot.”
“Maybe. But that don’t make it sporting behaviour.”
“Oh, come on,” she laughed. “It’s not like you haven’t done worse.”
“I ain’t denying I have,” Applejack replied shrugging. “But I thought we’d moved on from cheating.”
“Yeah, well, we’ve been at this too long. My eyes hurt.”
“You giving up?”
“Heck no.”
“I will if you will.”
Rainbow paused, considering the notion, but soon realised she was giving the thought way too much credit. She shook her head. “Still, no. This ends today.”
“What’s the matter? Too chicken to admit this was a stupid idea?”
“Hey, I can call Scoots that; you can’t.”
A silence descended, broken only by the raspy chirping of a chorus of cicadas in the grass behind them, and a faint sizzle as the midsummer sun beat down on their backs. Even so, the two continued to stare at the wall of the barn, watching as the gleam of fresh red paint slowly faded. Neither knew how long they’d been there, and neither could remember how they’d talked each other into this contest, but one thing was for certain: this would end in regret.
“If it makes you feel any better, RD, my head hurts too.”
Rainbow smirked. “Doesn’t take much to do that, does it?”
Applejack narrowed her eyes. “Say that again and I’ll buck your face to Tartarus.”
“What’s the matter, AJ? Can’t take the heat?”
“Oh, I can take it. I just ain’t one to have my intelligence insulted by some upstart Daring Do fangirl.”
Rainbow snapped her head to her. “What?!”
Applejack turned from the wall and smiled back. “I win.”
Rainbow stared at her, eyes wide and mouth open, struggling for a response, then shot into the air and hovered, jabbing a hoof at her. “Wait, no! That’s not fair! You cheated!”
“If you can’t take the heat, don’t dish it out.”
“Yeah, but…!”
“But…?”
She lowered herself to the ground again and hung her head. “Nothing,” she huffed. “You win.”
Applejack waited a moment longer, then smiled and stood up, wiping her brow clear of sweat. “Don’t worry, sugarcube, I won’t count this one. It was a pretty silly idea anyway, wasn’t it?”
“Well, I mean, sure, but what else are we supposed to do? We’ve tried everything. Running, jumping, weightlifting, rock-climbing, skydiving, recovering in hospital, reading, acting, eating, resurrecting Sombra, skiing, skating, snowboarding, windsurfing, being Twilight, and now boring ourselves half to death. Seriously, there’s nothing we haven’t tried. How are we supposed to figure out who’s the most daring pony?”
“I don’t know, Dash,” she replied with a shrug. “Maybe we should just… you know… get over it. Accept that we’re both just as good. Start maturing as characters, if you want to make it poetic.”
“Pfft. Mature?” Rainbow rolled her eyes and waved a wing dismissively. “Please, AJ, everypony knows we can be mature.”
“Is that a fact?”
“Totally.”
Applejack stared at her with an extremely blasé expression, then smirked and leaned a little closer, whispering very softly, very slowly, “Then you wouldn’t have any problem if I said… Rarity in thigh-highs… would you?”
Rainbow’s eyes widened. Her gaze became distant, and she struggled to stop a wide, dreamy grin from spreading across her lips.
“Got you there, didn’t I?”
“Hey, I can like something without being into it. Look,” she gave her wings a few gentle flaps, “my jimmies aren’t even rustled. Besides, it’s not like you’re any better.”
“And how’s that?”
The grin turned mischievous. “Flim and Flam did nothing wrong.”
Applejack’s eyes narrowed again. “Say what?”
“And, secretly, I always liked strawberries more than cider.”
“Now wait just a cotton-picking minute, Rainbow.” She stomped a hoof. “Since when have you liked anything more than cider? Or yourself, for that matter. And why… strawberries of all things?”
Rainbow shrugged innocently. “Why not?”
“Because… Well… Just why? How can you like a strawberry? They’re small and soft and have that gross tuft of leaves and white stuff at the top, and their seeds are on the outside — the outside. Nothing natural has its seeds on the outside.”
“But they’re sweet.”
“Apples are sweet. Strawberries are demon-spawn.”
Rainbow cocked her head slightly. “What’s a demon?”
“Long story,” Applejack replied, wiping her forehead again and sighing. “The point is, RD, you ain’t mature, and… I guess I ain’t either, considering you duped me into watching paint dry. Or however we got here. But now my back’s all burned and I’m all sweaty, and I still have half the orchard to buck before sunset.”
“Wait, so, you really are just giving up, then?”
She shrugged. “May as well.”
“But just for today, right?”
“For good.”
“What?!” Rainbow took a step back. “Why?!”
“Because I have a family to take care of, and we’ve disappointed them and the rest of Equestria enough as it is.”
“Disappointed? Are you kidding?” Rainbow reared up and spread her forelegs and wings as far as they could go, smiling hopefully. “Equestria loves us! We have our own fans and everything, and they’re still trying to figure out if you and Pinkie are related.”
“Exactly. And because of all this extra attention, I don’t need word going about that I’m wasting my time playing hot potato with Flurry Heart’s toy snail.”
“We were bonding.”
“Did you even look her in the eye? That kid’s feral. I don’t care if she’s a baby; Cadance needs to put a muzzle on her.”
Rainbow paused, folding her wings and returning to all fours. “Wait a second,” she said sceptically, squinting. “You’re just scared, aren’t you?”
“Scared of my family getting caught in the crossfire, yeah.”
“Don’t lie to me, AJ. You never were a good liar. You’re just scared you’re going to lose next time, so you’re throwing the towel in early.”
“Dash, I ain’t scared of losing. In fact, I’d be happy to lose if it meant settling—”
“No!” Rainbow snapped. “You can’t do that! It has to be all or nothing!”
“Then I guess it’ll have to be nothing.” Applejack adjusted her hat, stood up, and gave Rainbow a pat on the shoulder as she passed by. “Sorry, sugar. The war’s over. Trust me, it’s better this way.”
Rainbow scowled at the ground and waited for the hoofsteps to fade, then looked behind her and watched the farmer stroll for the orchards. “It’s not over ‘til I say it’s over,” she grumbled, grinding a hoof into the dirt.
The Carousel Boutique wasn’t the best place to look for comfort after having one’s whole world — one’s whole purpose of existence — ripped out from beneath you, but it would have to do for now. To say that Rainbow Dash felt betrayed was an understatement. Competition was her life, and for Applejack to do this to her…
If she wasn’t possessed by an evil spirit or being coerced by some unknown third party, then that pony had her priorities seriously messed up. The Applejack that Rainbow knew would never let anything get in the way of a good contest, and she wasn’t buying either of her excuses: their rivalry had continued even after the School of Friendship was founded, and Apple Bloom, Granny Smith and Big Macintosh had been there plenty of times to cheer her on. Where was the concern for her family then?
And on top of everything else, she’d insulted Daring Do. Daring Do. Even after they’d proven her existence and the truth behind every tale she wrote, Applejack had the gall to insult her. How could she? Daring Do was awesome. So what if Rainbow found the books in the children’s section of the library? So what if she’d later discovered that the fandom was an oddity to the rest of Equestria? So what if she’d bought a body pillow from her last convention? It was Daring freaking Do.
Stupid normies.
She reached a hoof up and knocked heavily on the door, then stepped back and waited.
Somepony trotted up and stopped just shy of the entry. “I’m sorry, sir or madam, but the boutique is closed for today,” came a finely tuned and jovial voice that almost — almost — cheered Rainbow up. “I’m still settling in from my trip to Manehattan and—”
“It’s me, Rarity.”
There was a pause, and then a quick shuffling of hooves as the pony in question hurried to the door and flung it open. “Darling!” Rarity cried with a smile as bright as the sun, then leaped outside and enveloped Rainbow in a worryingly tight, potentially spine-crushing hug, spinning in circles like a merry-go-round. “Oh, darling, it’s so so so so so good to see you!”
“Rares…! Can’t…! Breathe…!”
She slowed herself down, let Rainbow flop from her grasp, gasping for air, and backed away sheepishly. “Oh, I’m sorry, dear,” she said with an awkward chuckle, “it’s just, well… well, it’s just been so long! And you’re the first friend to say hello since I arrived, and… Oh, Rainbow, it’s just been agony doing business nonstop for the last month, with nopony else talk to besides Coco. Not to say that she isn’t a good friend, or anything of the like — no I couldn’t possibly say that. But… Rainbow? Oh, darling, don’t be so dramatic; I wasn’t being that hard.”
“You… got… stronger…?”
Rarity paused, looking at her forelegs, then let loose a demure smile. “Well, I must admit that, yes, perhaps I have. But I didn’t think it was by that much.”
“How…?”
She paused again, making a show of figuring out how to phrase her response. “Do you recall the time Applejack offered me a fighting lesson?”
“The time she… knocked your lights out… right?”
“Yes, thank you for reminding me,” Rarity groused. “In any case, there was no way I was training with her if she wasn’t going to give a lady a proper chance. So, while I was in Manehattan, I took the opportunity to, err… ‘toughen up’, as it were.”
“You… went to a gym?”
“And joined the Still Way Martial Arts Academy. The Manehattan branch, of course.”
Rainbow’s eyes widened. “No way.”
“Oh, please, Rainbow Dash, is it really so hard to believe?”
“Prove it,” she demanded.
Rarity turned her nose up, “Very well,” and trotted back through the doorway.
Rainbow rolled over, rose to her hooves and followed her into the boutique. Although the store hadn’t been occupied for some time, she was still surprised to find that the space looked rather barren. Furniture stood where they usually did and curtains remained where they were, but the mannequins and dresses were gone, as well as the finer decorations and knickknacks that normally lined the shelves and tables.
Rarity herself stood by her infamous ‘fainting couch’ — or famous, depending on who you asked — sorting through a large assortment of bags, purses and suitcases resting on and around it. There were also a few dumbbells of various weights on the floor, and a punching bag slumped against the wall.
“So, you weren’t kidding about the gym part,” Rainbow mused.
“Indeed,” Rarity replied. “I’m honestly a little disappointed in you, Rainbow. I may tend to exaggerate the truth, but I’d never outright lie to my friends. Not anymore, at least. And certainly not over something as important as self-improvement.”
“Well, what do you expect? It’s… unexpected.”
She paused and raised an eyebrow at Rainbow. “And a mare isn’t allowed to be surprising every once in a while?”
“Well, no. I mean yes. I mean…” She closed her eyes for a moment to gather her thoughts. “It’s weird. But I don’t mean that in a bad way. I mean, you’re gone for a month, and the next thing I know, you’re a grand master in the most prestigious martial arts school in Equestria.”
“I’m only a gold belt, darling.”
She baulked and stook a step back. “A gold? In a month?”
“Yes. It appears I have a gift. Or at least, that’s what my sensei said.”
Rainbow blinked. “Do you know how long it took me to become a black belt in Kung Fu?”
“Ten years,” Rarity recited, floating an official-looking certificate and a gold sash in front of her, looking at each with a sense of pride. “Yes, I know, dear, but I’m not trying to rein in on your parade, truly. It’ll be a long time yet until I reach your level of expertise, I’m sure.”
Rainbow let her brows droop, eyeing the two objects with disdain. “Yeah. Sure.”
“It’s for my own benefit, really. And, between you and me, I’m hoping to return Applejack’s favour. Show her that one can indeed teach an old dog new tricks. Then maybe I’ll be the one doing the teaching.”
“Whatever you say, Rares.”
Rarity’s ears twitched and she turned back to face Rainbow with concern. “Sorry, darling, was I rambling again?”
“What?” Rainbow blinked and shook her head, snapping herself out of a minor trance. “No, no, nothing like that — I’d love to see you beat the snot out of AJ sometime.”
Rarity winced. “Well, I don’t think we need to take it that far, but thank you.” She angled her head slightly and raised an eyebrow. “But that isn’t everything, is it?”
Rainbow hesitated. “No,” she admitted, reluctantly, sitting down and looking at the floor. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”
“Oh, darling, please, I insist.” Rarity returned her badges of martial prowess to the pile and trotted over to sit in front of Rainbow. “It’s never nothing if something’s troubling you. Besides, any gossip is good gossip.”
Rainbow frowned at her.
“I’m joking, Rainbow Dash. But seriously, what’s the matter? Stressed? Tired? A certain somepony on your mind?”
She tensed and narrowed her eyes.
Rarity lit up with giddy excitement, so fast that it rivalled Pinkie for sheer scariness.
“Rarity, so help me, if you break out the shipping goggles again, I will slap you so hard that you’ll see my hoof in your sleep.”
The fire in her eyes dwindled to a pressurised simmer. “I’m sorry, Rainbow, it’s just… Well, you’ve been—”
“I’ll find somepony if I’m ready.”
“When you’re ready.”
“If I’m ready. But if you can’t take it seriously, I may as well leave right now.”
Rarity paused again, then cleared her throat and shifted a little on her haunches. “I’m sorry, Rainbow Dash. Please, do carry on.”
Rainbow watched her sceptically for a moment, then straightened up and sighed. “It’s about AJ,” she mumbled.
A smirk tugged at Rarity’s mouth, but she did her best to force it down. “What about AJ?” she queried playfully, batting her eyelashes.
“She’s given up on the whole Iron Pony competition.”
In an instant, the fire vanished. “Oh, finally,” she said, tilting her head back with a very unladylike groan. “It’s about time you two buried that old thing.”
“I said she gave up,” Rainbow protested. “I haven’t. And you don’t need to sound so relieved about it.”
“Well, you can’t exactly blame me, can you?”
“Hey, it wasn’t our fault that you didn’t put a fireproof spell on your summer range.”
“It ruins the sheen!”
“Still.”
“No. There is no ‘still’ to it.” Rarity paused again, then blinked and shook her head. “Never mind. You mentioned that she gave up, but not you.”
Rainbow reluctantly nodded.
“You do realise this means you’ve won.”
“No, I haven’t,” she said flatly. “I didn’t try to win — she just… stopped trying. Nopony won or lost. I feel… cheated.”
“Because she’s changed?"
“…Yeah. I guess.”
“And I suppose my recent achievements haven’t made things any better?”
“…Yeah…”
“I see.” She nodded solemnly. “Although I dread what the answer may be, what do you plan to do now?”
“I don’t know. Find somepony else to challenge, maybe.” Rainbow shrugged dejectedly. Then a spark of hope — stray as it may have been — made her ears perk up and look at Rarity with a playful smile. “Say, you wouldn’t be interested in—”
“Darling, no offence, but what you do in your free time holds as much interest to me as Mud Briar does to Pinkie.”
And just like that, the spark was gone. “Oh.”
Rarity pressed her lips together, leaned closer and gave Rainbow a light and pat on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, dear, I don’t mean to put you down, because you can be a wonderful friend, but… I’m not that adventurous. Not yet, at least. And although I understand your longing for things to stay the same, I do believe this is indeed for the best. It’s safer, at least. For everypony.”
Rainbow let out a defeated sigh, “I guess.”
“It’ll be fine,” Rarity said reassuringly. “And on that note, I brought back a few souvenirs from Manehattan that you may like.”
“Are they dresses?” Rainbow asked cynically.
“Oh, please, darling, I know you better than that,” Rarity eased, standing up and walking back to the couch. “This is more of a common ground, of sorts.”
“Really? You? Me? Common ground?”
“Yes, quite,” she agreed, sounding somewhat aloof as she dug through the pile again. “Believe me, I’m honestly as surprised as you are, but such is the strange and twisted way of fate. Now, where are you, you… little… Aha!” She turned back and presented a number of vinyl records. “Feast your eyes.”
Rainbow took them from her magical grasp and examined them. They featured cover art that ranged from the abstract to the intimidating — definitely not Rarity-from-a-month-ago’s cup of tea, if looks were anything to go by. She peered up from them to see Rarity’s beaming and expectant grin. “Uh… Thanks. I guess.”
The grin faded. “What’s the matter? Don’t you like them?”
“Well, it’s hard to tell what they are.”
“Oh, that’s easy: they’re rap albums, darling.”
“Rap?”
Rarity nodded graciously.
“You mean, like… what Pinkie was doing to help me pass my Wonderbolt exam?”
“Indubitably,” she agreed, and then gave her response a little more thought. “Although these are slightly less… educational, shall we say. But it’s wonderful workout material — really gets the blood pumping. I just heard it in the gym one morning, remembered Pinkie, and how much you liked her song, and thought you might enjoy them too.”
“Oh. Well, uh… thanks, Rarity, that’s… I’ll hold on to them.”
“And listen to them, I hope.”
“Sure, sure.” Rainbow nodded. “But what do you mean ‘less educational’?”
“Well, they’re certainly not about the history of the Wonderbolts. But to be more specific… they can be a little… combative.”
“Combative?” She cocked her head. “You mean, they fight each other on the album?”
“With words, darling. Think of it as a contest, and you’re the judge.”
She paused. “So, nopony gets hurt in these… word battles?”
“Rap battles. And no, not that I’m aware of.”
“Huh.” Her face brightened into a wide smile. “Well, thanks, Rares. This might actually be the best gift you’ve ever given me.”
“Really? You think so?”
She stared at the vinyl covers in her hooves and nodded absentmindedly, imagining the possibilities. “Yeah,” she said, her smile growing almost imperceptibly darker. “I think so.”
And the reason why her smile grew almost imperceptibly darker was really quite simple.
Rainbow Dash had an idea.
An awesome idea.
Rainbow Dash had a wonderful, awful, awesome idea.
“Your entire hat collection?”
Applejack nodded. She reached up to take her hat off on instinct, but was sorely disappointed, and instead sat herself down in front of the cottage entrance. “I know it might be a silly question, Flutters, but you wouldn’t happen to have seen one lying about, would’ve you?”
“No, I… I can’t say I have.” Fluttershy shook her head with a bemused expression. “When did this happen?”
“Last night, far as I can tell. I woke up this morning, got out of bed, went to my wardrobe to fetch one of my hats, but…” Applejack make a small explosive gesture with her hooves. “Poof. Gone. All of them.”
“Do you think somepony stole them?”
“Can’t imagine why.” She shrugged. “Cowpony hats ain’t worth a lot round these parts, so it ain’t like pawning them off would get you that much. That just leaves wearing them, but, really, who here in Ponyville wears anything except me, Big Mac, Apple Bloom and Granny?”
“Well, there’s Rarity.”
Applejack raised an eyebrow. “You honestly think Rarity would suddenly take a liking to my sense of fashion?”
Fluttershy glanced away, seeing her point. “No, I suppose not.”
“Neither. Not after the whole Trenderhoof incident, at least. Besides, I know she ain’t impartial to playing dirty, but I don’t think she’s dirty enough to steal from me. Or anypony else, for that matter, representing generosity and all.”
“Could it be one of Pinkie’s pranks?”
“If it is, it’s in poor taste. But now that you mention it…”
“Rainbow Dash?”
“Yeah…” Applejack nodded, slowly at first, then with more confidence. “Yeah, I ain’t seen her since I quit our little competition the other day.”
Fluttershy shrank back and pursed her lips. “I’m not sure I’d call it ‘little’.”
Applejack sighed, “Fluttershy, we talked about this.”
“Angel Bunny still has nightmares.”
“I know, I know, and I told you, I’ll pay for the therapy, which is why I need to find my hats so I don’t have to order more from Appleloosa.”
“Looking for something?”
Applejack turned away from the entrance to the cottage and looked up to see a blue pegasus descending from the sky, forehooves on her hips, a triumphant grin on her face, and an unmistakably familiar hat on her head. A favourite hat, actually.
“Rainbow Dash, what in the hay do you think you’re doing with Trevor?!”
“Why, he’s found a new master.” Rainbow rubbed a hoof against her barrel and inspected it haughtily. “Can’t say I blame him.”
“You give him back right this instant! Same goes for the rest of them! Especially Clyde!”
“Clyde’s a changed hat, AJ. I don’t think he wants to see you right now.”
“Don’t go pretending you know my hats better than I do!”
“Um… girls?”
“I think I know them well enough.”
“Ponyfeathers! You’ve had them for a day! I’ve been wearing them for most of my life!”
“Girls?”
“The point is, AJ, I have your hats, and if you ever want to see them again, you’d better do what I say.”
“I don’t negotiate with scoundrels!”
“GIRLS!” Fluttershy barked.
Applejack and Rainbow snapped their heads to her and took a step or wingbeat back.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, and I’m sure this is very important to both of you, but if you could please take this somewhere else, I’d like that very much. I have a lot of animals to take care of; more so since… the incident… and as much as I enjoy your company, the last thing I need is a mass panic attack. Angel Bunny only just stopped tearing his fur out yesterday.”
“Right.” Applejack looked away. “Sorry, Flutters.”
“Yeah.” Rainbow rubbed her foreleg. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Just be mindful of your surroundings. And no more spatulas. Please.”
“Sure thing.”
“Totally.”
“Thank you. Now, um… I don’t mean to sound rude, but… please go away. I think I woke the mice.”
Rainbow landed as Applejack nodded solemnly, and together, they strolled down the hill with a dour air about them and slouches in their gaits.
Fluttershy gave a coy smile and gently closed the door. And locked it for good measure.
Applejack was the first to reach the bottom of the slope, and as soon as she did, she spun around and swiped for Trevor.
Rainbow was faster. “Whoa there,” she exclaimed, ducking away and holding the hat out of reach. “Let’s talk about this first, AJ.”
“I ain’t doing no more dares, RD,” Applejack grumbled. “The competition’s over.”
“Who says I’m talking about the competition?”
“What else would you be talking about? There are only four things I know you like for certain: going fast, drinking cider, drinking cider fast, and beating me, while drinking cider.”
Rainbow frowned. “I don’t have a problem, AJ. And this is different.”
“Oh really? Well then, what’s the plan, RD? Prank Discord? Set fire to Roseluck’s garden? Steal Luna’s crown again?”
“No! Nothing like that. Although…”
“Rainbow.”
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” Rainbow chuckled. “But seriously, no, this isn’t going to be dangerous to anypony in any way, shape or form. Unless you’re up for something more my style.”
Applejack glared at her vengefully. “I’m all ears,” she slowly growled, and hated herself for saying it.
“We freestyle.”
She narrowed her eyes and gave an incredulous sneer. “Did you lose a few brain cells while you were gone, RD? You know I can’t fly.”
“Not that freestyling. I mean rapping.”
She blinked. “Rapping?”
“Yeah. You know, like singing, but against each other. Like, ‘yo yo, wassup, MC RD in the house’.”
Applejack felt like a part of her had just died, and she wasn’t sure if it was out of embarrassment or pity. “Rainbow… what in the ever-loving name of Celestia are you on?”
“No, I’m serious, AJ. Nopony gets hurt, nothing gets damaged, and you and I finally get to break the tie.”
“What’re you trying to say, Dash?”
“I’m saying… whoever wins this… is the better pony. Period. No rematches, no takebacks, no anything. The board’s been wiped clean and this is the deciding match. I’ll accept the result whatever it is and that’ll be the last you hear of it. No bragging or anything. Please, AJ. I need this. Don’t let it end on us watching paint dry.”
Applejack stared at her a little while longer. Did she miss the rivalry? Of course she did. But that didn’t mean she was about to put her family, the whole town, or the whole kingdom in harm’s way because of it. Things had been out of control for far too long now, and she needed to put her hoof down.
But this… seemed tame enough — it was a battle of words, after all, not brawn. Unless it was the time Rarity screamed so loudly that she broke all the glass in her home, including the windows, whoever heard of property damage via voice? And on top of that, it was a rather forgiving request; it wasn’t normal for Rainbow to be this humble about something so important to her. How would she behave if she were denied this one last blaze of glory?
Which is why, as much as she hated to admit it… for the greater good of Equestria and for their friendship… the dispute had to be settled once and for all.
Didn’t hurt that she might have fun doing it.
“Fine,” Applejack murmured. “But I ain’t happy about it.”
Rainbow shot up and punched the air. “Sweet! You won’t regret this, AJ.”
“I think I already am.”
“Well, you won’t. We’ll have three days to practice, and then we’ll find somewhere to duke it out, and then we can finally decide who’s the true Iron Pony.”
“If it means that much to you…”
“It does. It really does. Seriously, AJ, we’re going to have a blast! This is going to be SO AWESOME!”
A sudden crash and high-pitched screaming came from Fluttershy’s cottage, and in an instant, the door was unlatched and creatures from all walks of life bolted out in a blind panic, quickly followed by Fluttershy herself. She shut the door behind her and braced herself against it, staring with wide eyes and shrunken pupils at the animals cowering before her. She counted them off as the screaming and crashing continued. Angel was missing.
Applejack began to wonder where he’d gone, when she had her answer.
A furless rabbit hopped up onto the windowsill and pounded and shrieked against the glass.
“Trigger word!” Fluttershy cried at the two down the hill. “Why’d you use the trigger word?!”
“I think it’s time we left,” said Applejack.
“Agreed,” said Rainbow Dash.
Applejack pushed open to door to the music store and was greeted by a slap bass riff. It startled her, being so loud and in her face, and its upbeat tone made her raise an eyebrow. She quickly glanced around, in case anypony had heard it, and spied a white mare with electric blue hair laughing her head off behind the counter.
“I suppose you think that’s funny, huh?” she queried disapprovingly, strolling towards her.
The mare eased off on her laughter and nodded with a wide grin.
“Well, I don’t. What if my granny came instead of me? You think she’d survive, with a heart like hers? That’s mighty irresponsible.”
Her grin faded and she stared at Applejack with a neutral expression.
Applejack reached the counter and stared back. With her sunglasses on, it was impossible to tell whether the mare was taking any of her criticism on board. “Never mind,” she said, blinking and shaking her head dismissively. “I didn’t come here to scold you; I need your help.”
The mare angled her head slightly and arched an eyebrow.
“I’m looking for some rap albums.”
She paused, then pointed to Applejack and arched her eyebrow even further.
“It ain’t for me,” Applejack insisted, and then gave it a second thought. “Well, mostly. It’s none of your business, anyhow. All you need to know is that I have bits and I want rap. So, do you have any?”
The mare continued to stare at her in seeming incredulity, but eventually moved her head as if she’d rolled her eyes and left the counter, gesturing for Applejack to follow.
Sceptically, and with a hint of embarrassment, she did. “Nothing too fast, though; I want to actually understand what they’re saying. Well, maybe not everything, but most of it. More than whatever Pinkie said that one time, at least.”
The mare may have made a sound like a sigh, but if she did, was too quiet for Applejack to say for certain. She turned left and led her down the hip-hop isle.
“Wow.” Applejack looked about and slowed her pace somewhat. “You got a mighty fine collection here. Didn’t know there were this many bands in Equestria. Or the world, for that matter. Hey, look at that!” She stopped, focussing on an album to her right. “The Gilda’d Lilies; From Griffonstone, With Love. That sounds an awful lot like…”
Two stomps on the carpeted floor snapped her out of a reverie and she turned back to the mare, who gestured to the section on her left.
“Oh, right.” Applejack trotted over. “Sorry, just had a flashback to a, err… less than savoury encounter from way back when. Anyway, you were saying?”
The mare twisted her lip somewhat, but reached over and pulled an album from the shelves, then hoofed it over to Applejack.
She stared at the record cover. At first, curious, then confused, and then completely unimpressed.
A mare sat confidently in a throne made of swords, unphased — or perhaps encouraged — by the horde of stallions clawing up the pyramid of steps and over each other to meet her. At the top, in bold, white lettering, was the artist and title.
Street Smart
Cockfight
Applejack shared her enthusiasm with the mare in front of her. “Something a little less explicit?”
The mare raised another eyebrow, but obeyed and picked out another.
The Rock Farmer
Grow a [censored] Pair of [censored] You [censored] Piece of [censored] [censored] Or I’ll [censored] Your [censored] With a Baguette and [censored] the Toilet With Your [censored]
“I have a little sister and a granny at my place. Don’t you have anything family-friendly?”
Party Animal
I Hugged My Cousin’s Butt
“Darn it, girl, quit pulling my tail! I’m battling Rainbow Dash in three days’ time and I need something to work with! Now, you give me what I want or you’ll be losing a very reputable customer, and I’ll be sure to tell everypony about how you skimped out on me.”
The Eternal Flame
Bite Me
Applejack drew her head back and opened her mouth to say something snide, but found the words catching in her mouth. As much of a slap in the face as the album was, she couldn’t deny it seemed to be what she was after, and the cover art was rather appealing; a flat, peachy orange background with a white symbol in the shape of a flaming torch.
And, somehow, she felt like it was calling to her.
“Do you have any more like this?” she wondered aloud, almost mesmerised.
The mare’s smirk turned into a grin and she nodded deviously. This would be a very profitable day, it seemed.
Rainbow peered around her as she trotted down the path. Back in the day, the Everfree had been so much scarier. Manticores, cockatrices, timberwolves, ursa majors… An incredibly interesting array of fauna ranging from ‘lethal’ to ‘excessively lethal’.
But now, it was basically the Whitetail Woods, just with a few extra plants. She’d asked Twilight why things had changed, at the risk of a rambling, bookish lecture, but found the answer to be quite simple: the Elements had calmed the forest. Which made sense, she supposed, with magic artefacts that could shoot multicoloured lasers and fix the whole world to the sound of a musical ensemble.
That last fact had proven quite useful.
Too useful, some might say, since she could always count on the Elements keep any dares from getting out of hoof. Rarity would certainly be one of those few.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
Most of Equestria.
…Okay, all of Equestria, whether they knew who to blame or not.
She looked ahead to Pinkie, who was leading her through the forest with great, springy bounds. “Don’t you think we’ve travelled far enough?”
“Nope!” Pinkie chirped without a moment’s pause.
“Why are we even out here?”
“To train you, silly!”
“Well, yeah, but…” she glanced back, “couldn’t we have done this in Ponyville? I’m not planning on keeping this secret.”
“Me neither!”
“Then why the Everfree?”
“Because it’s where Zecora lives.”
“Zecora?” Rainbow repeated, hesitating a step, then continuing at a slightly faster pace. “But wait, aren’t you supposed to be teaching me?”
“Who do you think taught me?”
Her eyes widened.
“She doesn’t like talking about it much, but yeah, she’s a rapper! Or was a rapper.” Pinkie stopped bouncing, sat down and began acting the scene out. “I found out when I was asking her for any recipes from her old home, and when she pulled a book from her shelf, a gazillion pages came down with it! And they had rap lyrics!”
Rainbow blinked. “And you knew they were rap lyrics because…?”
“They rhymed! They also had bad words. Really bad words. I get the feeling she has a lot of unresolved anger.”
“Really? But she seems so… mellow.”
“I know, right?! But I saw the lyrics! And they had a lot of dirty words!” Her gaze became distant and her smile drooped as she nodded. “Like… a lot of dirty words. I’m pretty sure she made some up too, because even I didn’t know half of what they meant. Anyway, Zecora tried to cover them up — kept saying it’s all in the past — but you know me! Once the Pink’s got a stink, she won’t stop ‘til she finds ink!”
“Pinkie… Ew.”
“You know what I mean,” she giggled with a dismissive wave. “Anyway, it may have taken a little persistence, but she gave in eventually.”
“Really?” Rainbow raised an eyebrow. “But isn’t she, like, super secretive with her life?”
“She is!”
“Then how’d you get her to open up?”
“I’m me!”
She paused for a moment as the information sank in. “You annoyed it right out of her, didn’t you?”
“Oh, I was ruthless,” Pinkie answered with a delightfully devilish smile. “I begged her a hundred times a day, I did all her chores without asking, and I made her a whole heap of desserts! And I may have threatened to paint the whole house pink at one point.”
“Pinkie, that’s harassment. And blackmail.”
“But it worked! And who are you to judge? Aren’t you holding Jackie’s hats hostage?”
Rainbow rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Whatever. How close are we to Zecora’s?”
“We’re already there!” Pinkie declared, pulling back a bush to reveal the most gnarled, twisted, and frankly wicked-looking tree in the Everfree. But it was far less intimidating than usual. There were still plenty of charms, masks and glowing bottles dangling from the branches, granted, but the party balloons, confetti and pink exterior with bright blue polka dots certainly didn’t help.
“You really did it, didn’t you?” Rainbow asked in disbelief.
“Had to convince her to train you somehow!” Pinkie replied as she led the way again. “And if she can’t teach you in three days, I’ll sing my Evil Enchantress song outside her window every night! Forever! Pinkie Promise!”
Rainbow nodded and followed. “Remind me never to tick you off.”
“Oh, I don’t think you need reminding. Besides, the fans love me when I’m angry!”
“Fans?”
“Fans! You have fans, I have fans — everypony gets a fan!”
“Oh, right. Can’t believe I forgot we’re famous.”
“And you would not believe the stuff they write about us!”
“Stuff? What kind of—”
The door to the house flung open, and out stomped Zecora, with a scowl as deep and as horrifying as Ghastly Gorge itself.
“Hi, Zecora!” Pinkie cried, waving at her.
Zecora’s scowl grew deeper and more horrifying.
“Pinkie,” Rainbow murmured, never looking away from the fast-approaching zebra, “I don’t think that’s helping.”
“She doesn’t mind,” Pinkie said airily. “Isn’t that right Zecora? You don’t mind me getting excited, do you? Because you’re going to train Dashie to be the best rapper ever, right? And she’s going to win… isn’t she?”
Zecora stopped and glared at Pinkie, her scowl deeper than the dark depths of a diamond dog dungeon.
“Good!” Pinkie chirped, then turned to Rainbow with a pleasant smile. “Have fun, Dashie!”
“Wait, what was that about?”
She paused, and if Rainbow hadn’t known her for as long as she had, she wouldn’t have noticed Pinkie’s smile fade the barest fraction of an inch. “Listen, Dashie,” she purred, watching her foreleg slide over Rainbow’s withers and pull her close, “you know I care about everypony, right?”
“…Yeah?”
“And I like saving the world as much as you do, right?”
“…Sure?”
“Well, being a party pony is fun, but it doesn’t pay that well, so if I want as much free time as you other girls have, I need to think bigger. And do you know what I thought of?”
“…No?”
“Bets.”
“…You’re betting on me?”
“Yep! Never lost one!” Pinkie reached up with a smug grin and twanged the longest curl in her mane, which wobbled like a high-tension wire. “And this battle will be the dooziest doozy that’s ever been doozied!” She spun Rainbow to face her and looked her straight in the eyes. “You’re winning this contest, Dashie. I’m making sure of it. There’s too much riding on you to give up now.”
“…This is a lot to take in, Pinkie.”
“Then let’s get down to business!” she chirped, spinning Rainbow back around and pushing her to Zecora. “To defeat the farmer, you need the zebra! She’ll make a mare out of you!”
Rainbow paled at the thought.
“See you in three days!” Pinkie sang as she started bounding off.
Rainbow turned to her and was about to raise a few very reasonable concerns when she felt a hoof reach up and snatch her ear. “Ow! Zecora! What’re you—”
Before she could object further, Zecora began dragging Rainbow towards her home, where she shoved her in and slammed the door behind them, locked it, then turned back to her with an utterly contemptuous glare.
Rainbow nursed her ear and glanced about, backing away, eager to look at anything but the wrinkles on Zecora’s brow that were probably deeper than Granny’s by this point. All around them, the walls had been painted pink, with presents strewn about the floor, and a shimmering disco ball in the centre of the room.
She smiled uneasily and risked a fleeting glimpse of the cyan eyes boring into her. “So, uh… Pinkie really went all-out, didn’t she?”
“Doom and gloom, ending in a massive boom,” Zecora huffed. “That is the fate you coax if this battle is no hoax.”
Rainbow blinked. “What?”
“There is a reason why my home is here, and not in Ponyville, where I may live in fear. A champion of rap, I was long ago, but that was until I met a worthy foe.”
“Fear?” She shook her head. “Zecora, nopony’s afraid of you anymore.”
Zecora stomped. “I am not the one who should terrify you!” She glanced out a window, then leaned and whispered, “It is the one who follows. The one who knows all. The one who is leader of your crew.”
“Zecora, you’re not making any sense. I came here to learn how to rap, not listen to some vague prophecy about the future. Or past. Or whatever the heck you’re on about.”
“My words of warning should not be brushed aside. If you do, your only hope is to run and hide.”
“I’m not running from this,” Rainbow said firmly, stamping for emphasis. “I’m going to duke it out with AJ and that’s final.”
“Even if you risk destroying your town and all you hold dear, for rapper’s crown?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Rap battles are harmless. Unless you’re the loser.”
“Take it from one whose pride has been hurt; if you proceed with this plan, you will feel like dirt.”
Rainbow sighed, “Okay, look, whatever happened to you, Zecora, I’m sorry, but I can’t let this go. This is between me and AJ, and for once, nopony else gets hurt.”
“That is where you are wrong. Just as magic links ponies in song, rap is a power that, when fuelled by desire, can be used by you to spit literal fire.”
Her eyes widened. “Whoa. Really?”
“It has saved the world many times. Even the Sisters are no stranger to its rhymes.”
“No way.”
“But should Discord have won their duel, all planes of existence would know his rule.”
She took a long moment to process the information. “You mean to tell me that the whole universe was saved because the Luna and Celestia beat Discord, the spirit of chaos, in a rap battle?”
“Beat him? No. He ran circles around them, with lyrics so hot he could not help but confound them. But pride was his downfall, like so many before, and so he reared up, put his paw on his chest, and let his voice soar. And as he was reaching the highest possible tone, the Sisters brought out the Elements and turned him to stone.”
“That… is insanely cool.”
“Rap is not a magic to be taken lightly. Misuse of its powers may prove unsightly.” Zecora looked down to the ground with a troubled frown, her gaze turning distant and forlorn. “My last performance ended in devastation, and I was exiled from my home nation.”
Rainbow raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“I met my match, and we destroyed a town in our rage — fire for our lighting, ash for our stage. It was only when the rain began to pour that I realised who had suffered in our war. Stallions, mares, foals, all on the brink of sanity, and all because I had not controlled my vanity. So I fled, ashamed, a traitor to my tribe, and my opponent gave chase, not just to jibe, but finish the job and see her opponent broken. And since my arrival, in the country, no battles have been spoken.”
“But… they are spoken. I’m going to speak it. And I’m going to fight Applejack three days from now.”
Zecora straightened up slowly, a calm yet disappointed expression on her face. “There is no convincing this mare, is there?” she asked with a half-lidded stare.
“Probably not.”
She paused, then took a deep breath in and groaned heavily out. “Fine,” she grumbled. “But do not run back to me if this ends in tragedy.”
“Noted,” said Rainbow, sitting down and watching her attentively. “So, what’s the first step? And when do we get to wearing hoodies and bandanas?”
Zecora blinked, then sagged and groaned again. “What has my life become?”
Ponyville appeared to have lost its namesake.
As the clocktower struck noon and its bell echoed through the streets and bounced off the surrounding hills and mountains, there was nary a pony to be seen. One might have been forgiven for thinking the fair residents had simply vanished, or were hiding away from some unseen threat in their humble abodes.
But the truth was far from either of those, as could be seen by the many hundreds and quite easily thousands of fliers, posters, pamphlets, banners, cut-outs, and all sorts of other promotional paraphernalia strategically placed around the town. They all cried the same thing: the showdown of the century was taking place in the Castle of Friendship, generously donated to the cause by Spike on behalf of Twilight Sparkle.
And how could anypony refuse? The steward of the Princess of Friendship had issued an open invitation to come inside her home and marvel at its splendour. And watch two bearers of the Elements of Harmony embarrass themselves in the meantime. It was a far cry from the reparations they owed had Twilight not paid the bill, but public humiliation was a step in the right direction.
Their reputation could only improve from where they were now, the town figured. And if they actually managed to impress, more power to them.
And so, at the strike of noon, when the sound of the bell reached the walls of the castle, Spike closed the heavy doors and turned the key. There would be no more visitors this day; no interruptions. A feud would be settled and Ponyville would finally be at peace, and he could at long last decide whether he should be mad at them for using his comic books to decorate the Crystal Palace. He had, after all, saved the Crystal Empire a third time because of it.
But a decision wouldn’t come unless he saw the results, and the results wouldn’t come unless the battle started, so he spun around, sped down the hall, skidded around the corner, descended a narrow, twisting flight of stairs. A chorus of discordant muttering greeted him, as well as the shadowy silhouettes of the entire population of Ponyville. Mares and stallions, fillies and colts, foals not even a year old; ponies of all ages had come to see this hatchet buried. Along with the troublemakers, if some had their way.
He didn’t waste any time and took to the air, flying over the crowd and navigating through the maze of streamers, balloons and ceiling-mounted confetti cannons that were all set to blow when a victor was chosen.
Pinkie sat at the wide end of a collapsible table with a clear view of the stage, wearing a visor cap and an impatient, determined look on her face. A large sheet of paper with names and tallies was spread before her and she eyed it carefully, almost suspiciously. Rarity and Fluttershy sat either side of her, one sipping apple juice out of a champagne glass, and the other folding her forelegs glancing about every so often.
Spike gently landed behind the trio and tapped Pinkie on the shoulder.
She slowly turned to look down at him, an eyebrow raised with and all the smug, sly, intimidating presence of a mob boss.
“It’s twelve o’clock.”
Pinkie paused, letting the words sink in, then narrowed her eyes, rubbed her hooves together and grinned wildly. “Good, good. This pleases me.”
“Are you sure we’re not overdoing this, darling?” Rarity wondered, swirling her drink and looking rather blasé about the whole affair.
“Of course I am!” Pinkie cried, throwing her forelegs in the air and sharing her grin for the whole table to see. “The town wants an end, Pinkie gives them an end! And it doesn’t hurt that I make a few bits on the side.”
Rarity set her glass down and turned in her seat towards her. “What I mean to say is that, this seems like an awful lot of effort just for a duel. Couldn’t we have done this in the town square?”
“There’d certainly be more space to move if something went wrong,” said Fluttershy, who’d taken a keen interest in how small the exit was.
“Could we? Sure! The question is, should we?”
“I don’t see why not,” Rarity replied. “It’s starting to smell like the Manehattan gym in here. I never did like the smell.”
“But then it wouldn’t be underground, Rarity. Rap needs atmosphere, and Twilight’s basement was the only place big enough for everypony.”
“Where is Twilight, anyway?” Fluttershy asked, turning to Spike.
He shrugged. “Urgent princess business in Canterlot, last I heard. She didn’t say much before she left. Lucky she did, though, huh?”
“Absolutely!” Pinkie agreed. “I haven’t seen the town come together like this since the last big dare! Who knew a giant donut could do so much damage?!”
Rarity rolled her eyes. “Well, you may have had fun, Pinkie, but I was stuck with frosting in my coat for weeks afterwards.”
“And you smelled delicious!”
Fluttershy flinched, Rarity narrowed her eyes and Spike threw his hands up in mock surrender.
“Oh, grow up, you three! Who’s worse; the pony who says it, or the ponies with their heads in the gutter?”
“Maybe we should start now,” suggested Fluttershy. “I don’t want to leave Angel at the nursing home too long.”
“Right you are, Fluttershy!” Pinkie exclaimed with chipper a swing of the foreleg, then turned to Spike. “Is everypony here?”
“Everypony except Mayor Mare.”
“Huh. Oh well, her loss.” She shrugged and looked back to the stage. “Take it away, Starlight!”
Starlight, who had been in the shadows at the back of the stage, reluctantly stepped into the light and shared her thoroughly displeased expression with the whole of Ponyville minus two. She’d elected to wear — under Pinkie’s heavy insistence — an olive parka with an oversized collar. She switched on the microphone hovering beside her and, grudgingly, began her introduction. “May I have your attention, please?” she said in a very monotonous tone, not unlike Maud’s, but with far less emotion. “Everypony, may I have your attention, please?”
Her voice echoed around the room, but the crowd refused settle.
She lowered the microphone and looked at the table and the three ponies sitting behind it, as well as Spike, who was making encouraging gestures.
“Try being a little more assertive, darling,” Rarity suggested just above the din.
Starlight narrowed her eyes faintly. If they wanted assertive, they’d get assertive. She brought the microphone back up and leaned in a touch until her lips were almost brushing against it. “If all of you don’t shut up in the next five seconds, I will personally beat the cutie marks out of everypony here, stallion, mare and foal, and use their power to end the world again.”
The chatter promptly ended half a second later.
“Thank you,” Starlight said, almost graciously. “Now, as I’m sure you’re all aware, today is an historic day for Ponyville, because two of our most beloved and cherished members of our community have decided to end their rivalry at long last. It may have taken them a while — and cost us a few thousand bits a head — but here we finally are, and I am absolutely thrilled to be the Master of Ceremonies on this fine and auspicious day, acting completely of my own free will and not because somepony rigged the game.”
“We won fair and square and you know it.”
“There were five aces, Fluttershy. Five.”
“Even so, darling, now is not the time to be making accusations.”
“The show must go on!”
Starlight, again, narrowed her eyes and pinned her ears back further. “However we found ourselves here, I’m sure we can all agree on one thing: we’re glad this age of ‘horseplay’, as Twilight puts it, is coming to an end. So, without any further ado, let’s welcome today’s entertainment: Buck Luck and…” she drifted off, cringing, then looked to her right. “Are the names really necessary?”
“Just say it,” said the pegasus in the shadows.
Starlight paused, then closed her eyes, sagged and sighed heavily, and grumbled into the microphone, “Everypony, please, welcome to the stage… Buck Luck and… Dream Dasher.”
From either ends of the platform, a pony revealed themselves to the crowd and slowly paced towards each other. Applejack wore a dark grey jacket with a pale green undershirt, and a red beanie in place of her hat. Rainbow wore a hoodie styled after the Wonderbolts, and was pretty adamant on the hood keeping her eyes in the shade. Both held a microphone of their own in the bends of their forehooves, but only Rainbow seemed determined and ready; Applejack, on the other hoof, spared herself a number of lengthy, troubled glances at their audience.
“Don’t get cold hooves now,” Starlight warned. “I wasn’t screwed over by three of Equestria’s model citizens just to see one of you choke.”
“I ain’t calling quits,” Applejack assured, but with less conviction than she’d meant. “It’s just a little crowded, is all.”
Rainbow smirked and raised her microphone to her lips. “Pressure’s getting to you, isn’t it, Bucko?”
“I guess you can say that.”
“You think you can take me?”
Applejack blinked. “Take you?”
“I trained three days straight with a champion. What did you do? Twang a banjo and sing about barns?”
There was a half-hearted effort from the audience to emit an impressed “ooh”.
Applejack frowned in confusion. “Where’d that come from, RD?”
Rainbow rolled her eyes. “I’m trash talking, AJ. It’s a battle. Get into the spirit of things. Didn’t those albums teach you anything?”
Applejack blinked again. “Well, yeah, they did, it’s just… this is kind of new to me, Dash.”
“Dream Dasher. And throw a little heat my way.”
“Oh, right.” She brought her microphone up too. “Well, I, uh… don’t really care for that tone of yours, Dream Dasher.”
Rainbow’s smirk returned. “Is that a challenge, Bucko?”
“I… guess it is. Yeah, it is. And if you, uh… don’t… step off… I’m going to hurt you. Real bad. Emotionally, not physically — I don’t want send you to the hospital or nothing.”
Starlight facehoofed.
“Yeah? Well, maybe I want to send you to the hospital with the biggest case of a third degree burn they’ve ever seen!”
“Is, uh… that a fact?”
“More fact than Granny Smith’s story about the founding of Ponyville.”
This time, the “ooh” was heartfelt and widespread, and muttering spread like wildfire. Big Mac held Granny Smith back and covered her mouth before she said something everypony would regret, while Sweetie Belle ate popcorn between the mortified husks of Apple Bloom and Scootaloo. Diamond Tiara took notes.
Applejack scowled and her hold on her microphone loosened. “Whoa there, Rainbow,” she said coldly, “take a jab at me all you like, but there’s no need to bring family into this.”
“And what are you going to do about it, Bucko? Kick some trees? Shovel dirt? Do a chicken dance for the pigs? Lie about me in front of the whole town?”
“I’ll tear you a new one.”
The venom in the line was so strong that, as well as emitting the loudest and most impressed “ooh” yet, everypony who wasn’t already sitting down took a collective step back.
Everypony except Pinkie, who leaned forward and grinned excitedly. “Let the games begin!” she declared with a foreleg in the air.
Starlight blinked herself out a stunned stupor and glanced between the two opponents. “Okay, so, uh… we’re all set, I take it?”
“Ready,” they agreed.
She nodded, then looked back to the DJ stand in the corner.
The DJ nodded in turn, and in quick succession, pressed a few buttons, flicked a few switches, slid a few sliders, and the speakers lining the stage began to hum, awaiting the impending track. She levitated the chosen disk from her saddlebag, set it on the table, spun it, and aligned the needle to the grooves.
The sound of a cello purred through the basement.
All eyes turned on her.
With an expression of mute terror, the DJ scratched the record, stowed it away, brought out another, and started spinning that instead. A steady, synthetic, rhythmic baseline replaced the smooth stroking of strings, and she gave the audience an awkward smile.
“Okay… So, let’s, uh… flip a coin,” Starlight announced, eager to put everything behind her and get the day over with. She pulled out a bit from her parka and held it in front of her, the embossed portrait of Celestia facing all three of them. “Buck Luck, you’re sun; Dream Dasher, you’re moon.”
They nodded.
She tossed the coin and up it twirled in a blur of gold, then sailed back down into a waiting hoof, which she slapped into the other, then pulled away to reveal the embossed portrait of Luna’s posterior. “Sun down, moon up,” Starlight declared, returning the bit to her pocket as she backed away a few steps. “Dream Dasher, you’re first.”
They nodded again, also backing away, and began bobbing to the beat with varied degrees of enthusiasm — Rainbow more so than Applejack, hyping herself up.
“Alright, check this,” she said, then paused, glancing at the audience and taking a few more breaths, and a very fine layer of sweat forming on her brow. “Like this, like this.
“Yo, it’s the Dasher of Dream come to dash your dreams
and mystify your minds with rhymes you’ve never seen.”
In the fleeting pause she took, more than a few of the crowd’s eyebrows rose.
“And I’ve brought these folks here to witness end
of you playing pretend, and I’ll rend
your hopes of winning to dust,
so much so that they’ll never trust
a word you say, and you’ll pay
the price for standing in my way.
I’ve kicked a hundred clouds with more thunder than you,
and I’ll seize my prize like Daring Do
and watch you fall — bye-bye, so long
so you better step off before I drop real bombs.
I’ll blow you away, back to the city,
and nopony here will show you any pity,
because, out of us, who’s the most cool?
And remind me, which of us went to school?
But since you didn’t, no sweat; I’ll set one up right here,
and then we can all take turns at bringing you to tears.
But if there’s a lesson here and one you should learn,
it’s to not play with fire, else you get burned.”
The audience applauded, either clapping, stamping, cheering, or a mixture of all three, and quite a few were speechless. Rarity and Fluttershy were two of those few, while Pinkie’s voice was the easiest to pick out in the room. Spike had joined Sweetie Belle in eating popcorn between the increasingly lifeless shells of the opponents’ little sisters. Big Mac and Granny Smith stared at Rainbow with open mouths, partly in shock, partly in outrage. Even the DJ, who was normally so quiet despite her music, gave her loudest nod to date.
Overall, there was a definite tension in the air, and the basement felt a little warmer because of it. Applejack put it down to nerves and tried to look unphased, but she had to admit that Zecora had done a pretty decent job. She wondered, then, why the teacher hadn’t come to watch the student, and either congratulate Rainbow if she won, or console her if she lost.
Applejack had her immediate family here for that very purpose, and considering Rainbow’s parents’… enthusiasm, to put it lightly… she could understand why she hadn’t invited them, and Scootaloo wouldn’t have been used to seeing her idol brought so low. But that made Zecora’s presence all the more crucial, and her absence all the more curious.
“Buck Luck.”
Starlight’s voice brought her back to the present and Applejack blinked herself out of her thoughts.
“Do you forfeit?”
“Do I…” she began absentmindedly, before her gaze hardened and she stomped the floor. “No! Of course not!”
“Then make a play.”
She lingered on Starlight for a moment, soaking in the words, then nodded and counted the rhythm in her head, getting a feel for it. Then she locked eyes with Rainbow Dash, and the irritatingly smug smirk she had, and Applejack realised that in order to beat her, she had to let the lyrics come from the heart, like the songs they would sing every now and then.
And right now, she felt anger. Anger at having been drawn into something so silly. Anger at having her hats stolen by one of her best friends. Anger at having her family insulted. But most glaringly, anger at the thought that she’d be the one losing today.
She tore away from Rainbow to look at the audience, rearing up on two legs with the microphone held close to her mouth and the other hoof making the gestures.
“Ring-a-ding-ding, Applejack’s bringing the heat,
so take a seat, my friends,
coz you’re about to witness the end
of Rainbow Dash,
lightning fast, I’m blitzing past,
liable of making her crash!
Yeah, you heard me, I said our real names,
coz if we’re making this personal, let’s play that game.
Your style: trash. Your character: brash.
Your goals in life: one. Your chance of winning: none.
And on top of all of that, you ain’t who you claim you are;
you may act all tough and proud and you want to be a star,
but when it comes to friendship, you ain’t there enough;
you leave us in the dirt when things get rough.
You’ve run away more times than there are hairs in my mane,
so tell me again, how did you earn your fame?
Not by being a hero — that we all know
but by getting lucky in joining some froufrou sky show.
You’re all bark and no bite when it comes to affairs
that might involve something other than dares.
A one-trick pony; an ocean ankle-deep,
and if the truth makes you cry, then this’ll make you weep:
I embody honesty and call things like I see it;
you embody loyalty but you’re too scared to be it.”
A certain stillness descended on the room, with nought but the beat and Applejack’s light panting to be heard. Even Ponyville’s florists were too stunned to faint.
And then came the cheering. Rowdy and rousing and started by Granny Smith, and so was infectious to the core, but Applejack wouldn’t — couldn’t — drop her guard. She settled back down on four legs and tilted her head slightly towards Rainbow, daring her to go next with an arched brow.
Rainbow was taken aback, shocked — positively thunderstruck — that somepony as rural as her opponent could ever pick up something so modern so quickly. And what’s worse is that it was actually good. Not entirely truthful, but pretty damn good. She’d just have to be even better.
She pulled the hood back, wiped the sweat from her brow and turned to the crowd. The atmosphere was definitely warmer. Stress, she figured, and the combined body heat of a whole town in an enclosed place. But she couldn’t let the pressure get to her, or Applejack’s words. She wasn’t going to choke. Not like the Young Fliers’ Competition so long ago. She could do this. She knew she could. She’d even impressed Zecora by rhyming “orange” on the metaphorical fly.
…Fly…
The ground wasn’t her element.
She hopped up into the air and flapped her wings, and instantly felt a weight off her shoulders, and with that came clarity.
“Okay, okay, those rhymes aren’t bad,
and your words sting a little, but I’m not mad.
Heck, I’m impressed you’ve made it this far,
but none of that changes who you are:
a backwards pony with a backwards life,
more concerned for your farm than countrywide strife.
You’re obsessed, AJ — the worst case I’ve ever seen.
You have apples on your flank and apples in your dreams.
Is that all there is to this mare I face?
Whoever heard of a special talent for staying in one place?
I got mine from doing a sonic rainboom;
you got yours from coddling Apple Bloom.
You have no drive, no ambition, no greater aspiration,
while I want to be the fastest in the whole pony nation.
I’ll be remembered in stories and songs,
and you’ll fade into the background. That’s plain wrong.
Where’s the passion gone? The craving? The energy?
Now all you do is say goodnight to apple trees.
You’re a far cry from the Applejack I used to know,
so go home and kiss your brother while I steal the show.”
Another silence swept over the audience. A few cheered, but they quickly caught whiff of the awkward, heated air filling the room and shut themselves up.
Applejack stared at her with wide, blank eyes, ears pinned back, and a mouth open in disbelief. She risked a sideways peek at her family.
Big Mac met her gaze with a similar expression. Granny Smith had frozen stiff, either in shock or from a heart attack. Apple Bloom tried as best she could to pull in on herself and shrink into nothingness.
She turned back to Rainbow, only to realise she’d been holding her breath and started panting heavily. The ground felt like it was shaking. She was sweating too. The jacket was too much. She sat down and wrestled it off, accidentally fumbling with and dropping her microphone in the process.
That annoyed her.
That annoyed her a lot.
But not as much as Dash.
She retrieved the device, stuck it as close to her mouth as she could, glared up at Rainbow, and as soon as the next beat sounded, dove straight in.
“Ignorant of the past, you don’t know when to quit,
now I’m going to drag you down beneath the pits
of oblivion — Stygian would know just how you’ll feel;
pride has corrupted you and now your fate is sealed.
Before the wheels in your noggin finish sorting out that spiel,
let me summarise: I will make you kneel.”
The ground shook a little more.
“This is a word of the cautionary kind:
vanity’s a sickness that’s plagued your mind,
and a lesson unlearned has left you blind,
so I’ll open up your eyes to the truth you’ll find.
I’m the kind of girl who take a few swings
so long as my family stays out of everything,
but now you’ve crossed a line, so now I think I’ll grind
your face into the dirt, coz now is my time.
A mask of loyalty covered in stains;
watch that filth purified by my flames,
and when I’m done the only thing that remains
is a shallow grave dug by those who turned insane.
So if you want to cross me, you better do it offbeat,
and when I win you’ll know the pain of what it means to be slain.”
The ground shook even more, and the air was warm to breathe.
“Fly away before this competition turns fierce;
a broken nose won’t compare to the heart that I’ll pierce.
I’ll shatter it like a crystal Storm King falling,
and I fear no brawl with the war drums’ calling.
I’m a wise mare, I’ve learned from my mistakes,
but if you get in my way, I won’t hesitate
to exact what I know — punch high, kick low
coz here’s a little fact: you reap what you sow.
If you try to stand up, I’ll smack you down
you deserve to soar no higher than the ground.”
A crack formed in the wall behind the DJ, and the ceiling began to tremble, and the crowd grew increasingly anxious.
“I ain’t going to take what apology you give,
coz we’re beyond that point, and you’ll just have to live
with the fact I attack you with nothing but the truth,
and the only way out is by breaking a tooth
against my steel walls of impervious resolve,
and there’s no space or time to evolve.”
A few ponies started making for the exit as dust filled the now boiling air.
“Welcome to the jungle where your honesty is key
to destroying your enemies — easy as bucking trees.
I’m the one here with the least amount of flaws;
the one between us with next to no cause
to pick a fight with anypony whom she loves,
but if you want to spar, we can do it no gloves.
This battle’s all but lost, and you’re all out of luck,
so get these apples in your mouth and give them a good—”
A loud boom sounded as a bright bolt of golden light tore through the roof directly between the two. More of the crowd tried rushing out, only to find themselves pushed up against each other, and the foals at risk of being trampled. But the harder they tried, the longer they took, and the longer they took, the more they realised the castle was not, in fact, coming down on their heads.
After a few seconds of relative peace, Applejack opened her eyes and lowered her forelegs, squinting through the clouds of dust and smoke for the source of the disturbance. She blinked twice and gave a throaty cough, and as she heard Rainbow call out for Scootaloo, she realised she needed to do the same. “Apple Bloom?!” she wheezed. “Granny?! Big Mac?! Where are you?!”
“Right here, big sis!”
“Good! Y’all stay there, you hear?! I’ll… I’ll come to you!”
“No,” said another pony.
Applejack froze.
That was a voice she’d heard quite a lot over the last three days, and all the strength and conviction packed into that one word could have easily given Celestia’s commanding presence a run for its money. She turned to her right, coughed little more, and waved a foreleg in front of her, trying to sweep away the swirling clouds.
Sunlight poured in as the smoke and dust began to settle, filtered through a trail of holes in the storeys above, their edges glowing and charred. At the end of the trail, in the centre of the stage, was a shallow crater, and in the crater stood the hunched, kneeling form of a shadowy figure. It slowly rose to two legs, emerging from the haze, allowing the — amazingly — still-functioning lights to illuminate her for the whole crowd to see.
A red hoodie, hemmed in tribal patterns of orange fire, greeted everypony, with a flaming torch emblazoned on the back. Its wearer also wore dark sweatpants, a white undershirt, a gold chain pendant bearing the same torch, black shades, and a grey beanie hiding a mess of fiery hair.
Rainbow, seated on her rump, stared on with wide eyes, ears down, and an open mouth. She was flabbergasted; stunned, shocked, lost for words, both at what had just happened, and who had just crashed the event.
“The Eternal Flame…” Applejack breathed.
“Spitfire?!” Rainbow shrieked.
“Ooh! Surprise competitor!” Pinkie cried, holding the paper sheet above her head and turning to the back of the room. “Any takers?!”
“I, um… don’t think now’s a good time,” Fluttershy whispered.
“It’s always a good time,” Pinkie replied cheerfully, then looked at the stage again. “We have a new guest, Starlight! Introduce her!”
Starlight opened her eyes and peered out from the magical shield she’d encased herself in. The bubble fizzled out when she realised the world hadn’t, in fact, ended from the sheer concentration of stupidity in one place. Or at least, not yet. She blinked a few times, regaining her bearings, taking in her surroundings, then cautiously strolled forward and leaned around Spitfire. “Somepony mind telling me what the heck is going on?”
“New player! Introduction! Now!”
She looked to Spitfire.
Spitfire frowned back.
She looked up to the hole in the ceiling.
The hole stared down at her.
She returned to Pinkie with an open mouth and incredulous scowl. “You can’t be serious.”
“NOW, STARLIGHT!”
Vengeance would be swift and merciless. But for now, she shut her mouth, floated microphone in front of her, and immediately had it ripped from her magical grasp. She was about to protest when strong, orange eyes stole the breath from her lungs and almost sapped her will to live. It was like staring into the empty wasteland Twilight had shown her, but worse — a dark, cold void of despair that burned with an icy, malignant hatred for all that stood in the way of its singular purpose.
They were eyes that had seen monsters, and become them.
“Run.”
And so, she did, breaking the world record for the longest distance covered in a single spell.
Spitfire readjusted her shades and strolled forward a few steps, like a timberwolf stalking its prey, still on two legs. She scanned the room, appraising the crowd and their astounded silence and bewildered looks. Pinkie was on the edge of her seat. Fluttershy, as far back as she could go without tipping over. Rarity, deciding whether to love or hate the choice of garb. After a seeming eternity of inspection, she gave a subtle nod, brought the microphone up, and raised the other hoof.
The beat stopped. The lights dimmed. The DJ desperately fiddled with her table, double and triple-checking the wires and speakers, all to no avail.
“Heedless of the omens staring them in the face,
I’ve come to put these dumb fools in their place.
From the east coast to west, I can boast I’m the best;
if a clown throws down, I consider it a test.
And so it was I blazed a trail into this castle’s cellar,
and cut the beat to prove my skill and do this a capella;
for these two have stoked the flames and sealed all your fates;
this weed needs picking and I am the reaper that awaits.”
The words came slowly. Methodically. Menacingly. And as meaning dawned on what audience remained, they found their hooves locked in place, and the shadow cast by Spitfire’s hood grew even darker.
“Let the light of my conviction
shine the truth and end the fiction
that any of you ponies is the greatest rapper here.
I clawed my way to the top
and I’m never going to stop
and I’ll put down this resistance like I have been doing for years.
Like a rock against the tide,
I conquer then divide,
and if a rapper thinks that they won’t live a life of fear,
they will get the memo
when I’m finished with these fellows,
and shatter their resolve to where they’re breaking down in tears.”
She sauntered towards Applejack, who was staring at her in a mix of awe, admiration, and horror. Strangely, the lights seemed to follow her.
“To start us off; Applejack — the sister of the Six
whose social life’s a travesty to all who know these chicks.
She’s married to her job and her homestead’s in the sticks;
and her true friends are really all the apple trees she kicks.
Her aspirations are fulfilled, and matters of the heart,
but don’t forget, she was a background pony from the start.
Her only traits are honesty and stubbornness so grand
you have to wonder why so many like a mare as bland as sand.
She can buck, she can bite, she can fight with all her might,
but might does not determine whether what I say is right.
And if she tries to cross me or give me that trademark sass,
I’ll roast her farm as well as her and turn her clan to ash,
for she may be an Element and honesty incarnate,
but wooden figures burn in the inferno that has started.”
Applejack felt a strange weakness stem from her core — a weakness that grew with every passing moment, leaving her legs trembling like one of Pinkie’s Pinkie Sense episodes. And then she fell to her haunches, suddenly drained of energy and gasping for breath, like a frosty hoof had reached inside and given her heart a squeeze.
That’s when the world came back into focus, and she realised there was a deep orange glow lighting up the stage, and the air was thick and humid and scorching, and the rhythmic, buzzing, hungry riff of an electric guitar was playing throughout the basement, much to the DJ’s bewildered frustration.
Spitfire stepped back and turned her head to Rainbow, who was already lying on her backside, staring on with a terrified look and a foreleg raised weakly in defence. Her eyes were wide, her ears pinned back, her teeth chattering, and her brow slick with sweat.
“And so we come to you, the pegasus in blue,
whose only claim to fame is that I’ve let her join my crew.
Every struggle she’s been in to save this land of ours
has left her with an ego that much bigger than our closest star;
despite being as daring as the doo-doo that she reads,
she’s never proven herself to be trustworthy nuff to lead.
Yes, I’ve made mistakes, but I take them in my stride;
she’s the kind to shy away from them and keep her pride.
Her sister runs a cult with the label of a fan club.
Starlight took it as an insult but was told to buck up.
These heroes are more hypocrites than saviours of the realm,
and they’d do much worse with this slapdash pony at the helm;
she’s oblivious, disloyal, gullible and proud,
and thinks that she’s entitled to much more than I’ll allow.
But here’s the thing: saving the world no longer impresses me,
nor do sonic rainbooms, coz I did both at three.”
She snapped her wings open and spotlights blew in an explosion of sparks, swallowing the basement in darkness. Even the skylight, without explanation, cut off the sun. At the same time, the wall behind her glowed red like hot iron. Black silhouettes played against the backdrop; a filly standing atop a jagged peak, glaring up at a horde of one-eyed beasts.
The electric guitar was joined by a second.
“I’m the reason aramaspi are but griffons’ fables;
too late they found a rapper’s wrath enough to turn the tables.
And if you doubt my word that I can cause such mass destruction,
I recommend you hear me now and follow these instructions:
travel to their former homeland, climb the highest alp,
enter the skull of Grun and see my mark under his scalp.
It burns with rage until this day
and it will never fade away
until drop my mic for good
anddominate this neighbourhood.”
The silhouettes vanished, replaced with flames, which began to illuminate and spread across the other walls of the basement. Fear spread just as quickly — even Pinkie’s smile had become uneasy — but those who tried to escape found that the doors had shut, mysteriously, and without a sound.
The electric guitars were joined by drums.
“Pride comes before the fall and these two have a lot to lose,
but this bomb is primed to blow and they’ve already lit the fuse;
co-dependent, complicit in the competition’s price,
for which this kingdom’s been paying every single day and night.
But nepotism reared its head and so they’ve been protected,
so listen when I tell them their immunity’s rejected.”
Lengthy cracks opened in the ceiling and floor, glowing like the room was submerged in an ocean of magma. The air certainly felt like it.
The music grew louder. More aggressive.
“Court is now adjourned; the judge has made a ruling:
I’ll make this town be an example of a master’s schooling.
Dash is brash and Jack is whack
and all you ponies at the back
have let their antics go too far
and left this kingdom bruised and scarred;
to think that their debt can be paid
by rapping can’t be called fair trade.
And if this whole town thinks it so,
mercy is what I’ll forgo.”
A single beat of her wings sent her hovering, though it seemed far too effortless to be natural, and the flames on her jacket started moving.
“This is an epidemic of the peasants getting brazen,
but my decree will leave this town one building short and craven,
and smash the opposition before you have time to rally;
this battle’s yet another win upon an endless tally.
I hereby drop the bomb and set this wicked place ablaze,
and let it be known as the site you saw the end of days.”
The castle exploded.
Twilight watched in horror as white-hot cracks appeared in the exterior of her home, spreading like wildfire, and all at once expanded. Balls of fire and smoke quickly followed as smouldering chunks of crystal shot about the landscape, some crashing through a number of houses, and some catching a few rooves alight. A few colourful specks came next — ponies, tossed into the air from the blast, like confetti, flipping, spinning and flailing. And then it was the shockwave; a visible barrier of air that blew away pot plants, doormats, shutters, carts — anything loose — with the force of a typhoon.
For a split second, the shock gave way to fear, and she considered teleporting away so that she didn’t join the many objects, sentient or not, sent flying by the flash. But instead, the shockwave merely rattled the window she watched it all through, and she remembered she was safe. For the most part.
Five minutes, twenty-nine seconds.
That was how long it had taken. From the fiery bolt smashing through the castle roof to the devastation she now saw unfolding before her eyes. Five minutes, twenty-nine seconds.
That wasn’t enough time to say goodbye.
The glass finally settled and she realised she could see her reflection staring back at her, also dazed. She let her breath go, heavy and ragged, and blinked rapidly, then turned to her right.
Mayor Mare sat comfortably behind her desk, hindlegs propped up on the table, watching her tea absentmindedly as she stirred in the milk.
“What was that?”
She glanced up and raised an eyebrow at Twilight.
“That… thing that…” Twilight began, but couldn’t bring herself to say it. “Again? It happened again?”
“Yes.”
She paused, then closed her eyes, focussed on her breathing, and tried to gather her thoughts before her feelings got the better of her. “You expected this, didn’t you?”
“More than that, Twilight; I ordered it.”
“WHAT?!”
The mayor ceased her stirring.
“YOU BLEW UP MY CASTLE?! MY HOME?!”
“Not me, specifically.”
“WHY?!”
“For the betterment of the town.”
Twilight baulked, taking a few steps back, then gave a venomous scowl and stabbed a hoof at the unfolding apocalypse. “This is what you call betterment?!”
“Collateral damage.”
“Collateral…” She blinked again. “Mayor Mare, this doesn’t help anypony — it’s like Discord’s wildest dreams come true. And if anypony was hurt because of this, so help me—”
“They’ll recover,” the mayor replied evenly, taking her hindlegs down from the desk and sitting with her back straight in the chair. “Spitfire breaks spirits, not bodies. But I made sure the hospital had a little extra funding, just in case.”
Once more, Twilight blinked. “Spitfire? As in, the Spitfire? The captain of the Wonderbolts Spitfire?”
“Indeed.”
She opened her mouth to speak, then shut it, then opened it again and fell on her rump, frowning at the floor in confusion.
“I know how much of a shock this must for you, Twilight, but believe me, this is the proper course of action, and Ponyville will reap the rewards soon enough.”
“What rewards?” She looked up with tears threatening to spill over. “My home’s been destroyed and half the town’s on fire.”
“Precisely.”
“I fail to see the bright side.”
“That’s because you’re too focussed on the present.” The mayor slid out of her chair walk around the desk, approaching Twilight with the teacup balanced in her hoof. When she was a foreleg’s length away, she sat down and offered her the drink with an almost motherly smile.
Twilight hesitated.
“It’s your favourite. I checked with Spike just this morning.”
She had to admit that it smelled familiar, and familiarity was sorely needed in a world flipping itself on its head. So, tentatively, she took the teacup from the mayor’s grasp and brought it to her lips.
The mayor nodded approvingly, then turned her head towards the window and sighed. “A true leader looks to the future, Twilight,” she said sagely, “and with that castle, Ponyville had no future.”
Twilight almost choked. “Excuse me?”
The mayor looked at her without moving her head. “Before you arrived, the majority of this town’s income came from agriculture. But when all Equestria heard of what you and your friends did here, stopping Nightmare Moon and cleansing Luna, we experienced something we thought we’ve never see: tourism. And the more problems you solved and threats you vanquished, the bigger that market became. Soon, we were receiving hundreds of sightseers from Canterlot a week. I’m sure I’ve seen your old friends trotting around here more often than they’d care to admit.
“By the time you became a princess, almost sixty percent of the town’s wealth came from tourism. That wealth could be put to use in so many projects; say, building new community centres, or fixing and improving the dam, or, perhaps, smearing my rivals in the next election.”
“What?”
“However those funds are used,” the mayor continued with a consolatory wave of her hoof, “they’re beneficial to the town in some way, but ever since the destruction of the Golden Oaks Library and the, err… sprouting of your castle… the tourists have been coming less and less. Your School of Friendship hasn’t helped the situation.”
“You blew up my home just because a few ponies from out of town didn’t like how it looked?”
“Spitfire did the deed; I merely told her what was happening in the basement. And it wasn’t just the tourists who thought it looked out of place; I conducted an anonymous survey a little while back and the results are fairly conclusive. I have it in my desk, if you’d like to see it. But I do recall hearing a story a long time ago — that you were dissatisfied with your new home — that it was too spacious for just one pony, not counting Spike or Starlight.”
“Well, sure. But I was dissatisfied. I’m not anymore.” Twilight peered out the window again to see a mushroom cloud forming. “Or, at least, I wasn’t…”
The mayor was silent, nodding understandingly. “Then let me appeal to your better nature,” she implores with another smile, this one warm and friendly, but with a subtle, shrewd glint in her eyes. “As the Princess of Friendship, it is your responsibility to seek out the most rational and mutually beneficial solution to any problem, correct?”
“Yes…” Twilight answered warily.
“And the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, do they not?”
“They do…”
“Then surely you realise how this will help the town in the long run. Repairing the damages will be expensive, but a revitalised leisure industry will cover the cost. In the meantime, you can stay at one of your friends’ houses — I’m sure they won’t mind. It would certainly go towards improving your image as a princess of the masses.”
She looked down into her tea, as if searching for an answer in the ripples of the drink, or the patterns of the porcelain.
“And, who knows, with all that free space, we could certainly fit in a new building, or a building complex. Say, a research centre, or a library. One that clashes less with the rest of the town, and one I’d be more than happy to make you a curator of.”
She looked at the mayor again, ears perking up.
“Although, if we’re after less… mercenary reasons… the children’s wing of the hospital could always use more beds and books.”
Twilight shut her mouth. That card had been played, and it was pretty hard to dispute. At least, right now. If she’d had time to prepare, she might have thought of an interesting and persuasive defence, but not right now.
But… what exactly was she defending? Her home had just been shattered like the Crystal Heart — it wasn’t like she could, or be willing to put the pieces back together, and she couldn’t guarantee the Elements of Harmony would do the trick either. The deed had been done, and now, practically speaking, all she could do was decide where to go from here. And she had to admit, Mayor Mare’s proposal had some merit to it.
From a completely objective standpoint, of course.
“What about Celestia and Luna?” she quickly queried, teetering on a knife’s edge. “Won’t they have something to say about it?”
“Only as much as you’d let them,” the mayor assured with a smirk. “This happened to your home, not theirs. That being said, I’d appreciate it if you kept my involvement in the matter to yourself. Bad press and whatnot.”
Twilight felt her teeth begin to chatter from the anxiety and turned away to the window. Ponies fell from the sky, and she watched with morbid interest as they bounced off rooftops and landed on top of each other.
The mayor lay a forehoof on her withers. “Do it for the foals, Twilight,” she calmly urged. “All you have to do is let it go.”
With a deep breath in and a heavy sigh out, Twilight sagged and let her head droop. The more that dagger was twisted, the more she acquiesced.
There was something wrong about this — something inherently, undeniably wrong — and yet she couldn’t pin it down. For all her powers of deduction and reasoning and plain and simple logic, which had turned many a villain into an ally, and solved — and sometimes created — more problems than she could ever count, the words she sought eluded her.
That castle had been her home. It hadn’t been the Golden Oaks, but it had been something. Sure, it may have clashed with the scenery, and had too many rooms for too few ponies, and Spike’s list of housework duties was atrocious, even with Starlight’s help, and the air was freezing in winter, and it blinded a few ponies in the midday sun, and…
“How many books are we talking about?”
The mayor grinned, “I knew you’d see things my way,” and strolled back to the desk.
Twilight sighed again and swallowed her tea in a single gulp.
This was going to be a very long week.
With a final heave, the trashcan tipped over, and, after a brief moment to get over the pain, out Rainbow crawled, squinting as he eyes adjusted to the light.
She didn’t like what she saw.
Where there had once been a castle, a crater had taken its place, with a noxious amount of smoke pouring from it and clogging the sky, and charred crystal fragments littering the landscape. Rooves burned, glass windows had shattered, and nearby streetlamps had warped from the blast — the closest one appeared to have partially melted.
She picked a banana peel from her mane and tried to dust herself off, but it didn’t do much good; ash was falling, coating the world in a thin veil of grey, black and white. Ponies behind her stirred and groaned, though some remained unconscious, or at least pretended to be, lest the Eternal Flame return.
Rainbow’s ears pinned back and her tail tuck itself in a little closer. After remembering why this had all happened in the first place, she suddenly had the overwhelming feeling that the garbage was where she belonged, and that the best course of action was to crawl back inside.
“Dash?”
Her ears perked up again and she looked to her right, spying an elm not a few paces away. Strewn about its canopy was, impossibly, the entire Ponyville branch of the Apple family, with Granny Smith at the highest and Apple Bloom at the lowest, and Pinkie Pie precariously balanced on a long and flimsy limb. Applejack was the only one awake.
She watched Rainbow attentively, though her face was a mask of exhausted confusion, blackened by soot and a few singed patches of fur, fabric and hair. “You alright?”
Rainbow imagined she didn’t look much better, but she managed to nod.
“Good.” Applejack nodded in turn, lazily. “That’s good to hear.”
“What about you?”
She shrugged. Or at least, as best she could while drooped over a tree branch. “Could be worse, I suppose, all things considered.”
Rainbow glanced at the smouldering ruins of the Castle of Friendship and raised an eyebrow.
“Hey, you were asking how I was doing.”
“But doesn’t it, you know… bother you?”
“Well, I mean, of course it does, but…” Applejack gave another half-shrug. “Eh. Nothing a little Rainbow Power can’t solve, I’m sure.”
“Yeah, but…” Rainbow began, only to find the words catching in her throat.
There was a silence, and more ash fell.
“But what, Dash?” Applejack asked, softly and with concern.
Rainbow glanced at her, then pinned her ears back and sat down as she stared at the ground with a worried frown. “Am I the worst pony, AJ?”
A pause.
“What makes you say that, Dash?”
The response didn’t confirm her fears, but it definitely wasn’t a flat rejection, and Rainbow had to admit, that stung. “Everything Spitfire said… Everything you said…” She turned to Applejack. “It’s all true, isn’t it?”
Applejack didn’t respond.
“And all I did was attack you with lies and cheap shots.”
“Hey, I got burned too.”
“Not as bad as me,” Rainbow replied with a fleeting frown. “This was meant to be fun, for everypony. But then I had to make it personal. Next thing you know, my captain’s barging in, showing her real special talent, tells me how worthless I am, and that I’ll never be leadership material, then blows up the Castle of Friendship, along with half the town.”
“Just the castle, actually.”
“I don’t care, Applejack!” she shouted, but without much anger behind it. “That’s not the point! It just…!” She sighed. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
Applejack nodded, lowering her eyes and pondering the thought. “Neither are a lot of things, Dash” she said after a short pause. “Trust me, I know what unfair is like. But the thing with fairness — or a lack of it — is that all you can do is push on. Whatever the odds, whatever the hoof you’ve been dealt. It’s the right thing to do. Or else, if you let that seed grow, that tree’s apples are going to taste horrible, and the seeds from them will be even worse.”
Rainbow blinked, not quite stunned, but certainly somewhat lost for words.
“We can’t change what’s happened, Rainbow, but… we’re not supposed to. What we’re supposed to do is figure out where to go from here, and what our mistakes can teach us.”
And now she was almost completely lost for words. “So then… what’s the lesson here?”
Applejack paused again, then shrugged once more in absolute bewilderment. “What the heck do I look like, the freaking apple tree of wisdom? Diddly-squat, for all I know.”
Rainbow lingered on her, then turned back to the carnage before her. Except, it didn’t feel like carnage anymore — more like a simple backdrop. She could feel the heat from the crater, and the ash tickling her ears and snout and threatening to fall from her eyelashes, but in some strange, mysterious way, it didn’t feel so bad — so… unforgiving. In honesty, it felt no more malicious than the summer sun, or the flakes of snow on a midwinter’s day.
She couldn’t pinpoint an exact why, but if she had to guess… she’d say it was a moment of realisation. Of self-understanding. Of catharsis. Yes, that was it — that’s the word that Twilight would’ve used.
She had catharted.
The competition was over. Nopony had won. And that was okay. Because, really, what exactly did it prove about anypony, besides how destructive they could be to the rest of the world? It was silly, and dangerous, and it was time — like a paper lantern, or hibernating tortoise — to let go.
“Have we… matured, AJ?”
“I’d like to think so. Still haven’t changed my stance of Flim and Flam, though. Or demon-spawn.”
“You still haven’t told me what a demon is.”
“I suppose I haven’t,” Applejack chuckled, carefully sliding back and dangling from her branch. She checked to make sure her fall was clear, then let herself drop, landing almost effortlessly. “Maybe I can tell you over a mug of hard cider.”
Rainbow raised an eyebrow. “Really? Now?”
“Why not?” Applejack smirked with a shrugged. “We’re probably in for a world of hurt sooner or later, so we may as well enjoy our freedom while it lasts.”
Rainbow paused, considering the notion. Then, finding the logic sound, nodded in agreement. “Yeah,” she said, standing up and walking towards the farmer. “I could do with a drink.”
Applejack smiled and, together, they headed for Sweet Apple Acres, taking the scenic route to avoid as many ponies as possible. “You know,” she said after a few minutes’ silence, “now this whole ordeal’s over, I think I’ll be wanting my hats back now.”
Rainbow stumbled, like the back of her head had been slammed by a brick.
“Whoa there.” Applejack put a hoof on her barrel and kept her from falling. “You feeling okay?”
“Yeah, sure,” Rainbow replied, nodding uneasily. “I just… don’t think you’ll be getting them back anytime soon, AJ.”
“Why?” Applejack asked sincerely. Then the implication dawned on her. “Where’d you hide them, RD?”
“Let’s just say… we weren’t the only things that got burned.”
