Hearts of Hayby bahatumayChaptersChapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4One Year Later...Chapter 1“Nightmare Night, what a fright, give us something sweet to bite!” Pound and Pumpkin Cake chorused in unison. Pound snapped his timberwolf-esque jaw, and Pumpkin shook her head, making the legs of her spider costume shake menacingly along with it. “Wow! Such scary costumes!” Pinkie exclaimed. She reared up and leaned over, making sure to not put too much weight on the hind leg that was currently protected by a cast, and grabbed their bags. They gleefully took them, and with no less enthusiasm, she picked up a large bunch of candy with both hooves and dumped half into each of their bags. “There! Your first candy of the night!” She grinned. “You too, Apple Bloom!” She held out another bag expectantly. Apple Bloom, who was currently filling in for Pinkie tonight as a last-minute thing and so was only wearing her sister’s last year’s rodeo outfit, laughed lightly and held up a hoof. “Thanks, Pinkie,” she said, “but I'm not really out for candy tonight.” Pinkie gasped dramatically and took a step backwards in horror, wobbling on her cast. “But it's Nightmare Night!” she protested, suddenly injecting her face into Apple Bloom’s personal space. “And Nightmare Night is for candy!” Apple Bloom pulled on a smile and verbally backpedalled. “Yeah, but-” “And you said you'd do all the things I would do as my official Nightmare Night Chaperone replacement!” Pinkie interrupted. “Yeah! All the things!” Pumpkin added, bouncing in place, making her spider legs wave. “Like running around and pretending to be really scared of everything!” “And trading us all the good stuff you get!” Pound said, shaking his bag in anticipation. “It's tradition,” Pinkie sang. Apple Bloom rolled her eyes, but obligingly took the bag, and Pinkie cheerfully dumped in another heaping hoofful of candy. Behind them, the door opened, and their parents came out. As the twins ran over to show their enthusiastic parents their costumes, Pinkie pulled Apple Bloom aside. “Now, here's the basic trading situation.” She whipped out a folded piece of paper that unfolded into a sizable chart that looked like two interlocking circles with different colored levels and various candy names on each level. She took a deep breath. “Pound likes peanuts but not almonds, and Pumpkin likes almonds but not peanuts. They'll trade with each other, but if you're fast, you can get some good stuff from both of them. Both like peanut butter but Pound likes it a lot more so he'll sometimes trade Pumpkin for it preemptively. Don't try to trade him for any, you won’t get any. Pumpkin likes red licorice but can't stand black licorice, Pound doesn't like either but since Pumpkin knows she’ll get it from him anyway she won't trade him much for it. Your best bet is to get a bunch of red licorice from Pound for cheap and then trade it to Pumpkin as a deal-sweetener—no pun intended—for more expensive stuff. Now-” “Wait. I thought you were just giving them the stuff they liked and taking what they didn't,” Apple Bloom said. Pinkie barked a laugh. “They wish,” she said darkly, her eyes narrowing. Even the room seemed to darken in the force of her intensity. “Candy trades are a serious business.” A split second later, she and the room were back to normal so quickly it was like nothing had happened. “Anyway, Pumpkin likes fruit, apples are her favorite, but Pound thinks this night is for pure sugar, so don't even offer him any. Fruit chews, on the other hoof…” The evening party had technically just barely started, but in reality, it was already in full swing. Ponies and others were dancing to the live music, playing various carnival games, and generally having a good time, but Apple Bloom was already looking forward to calling it a night. Pound and Pumpkin had sketched out the optimal path to take to hit the houses that tended to give the largest candy, and, of course, none of them were near each other, so they had run the entire way, dragging her along behind. It was no wonder Pinkie had felt she wasn’t up to this task with a broken leg. Apple Bloom wasn’t sure she was up to it, and she didn’t have any broken legs! She was certain she hadn’t been this rambunctious when she was a filly. Thankfully, both twins had agreed to let her be the Guardian of the Candy while they went to win more candy and treats at the carnival games, so she was currently sitting at a table, sipping at a mug of cider, with three bulging bags of candy hiding under the table. The haul had been substantial. She wasn’t really looking forward to the candy trading scene afterwards. That was shaping up to be a chaotic event. Maybe she could put that back on Pinkie. It wasn’t like you needed four hooves to trade candy, right? Actually, knowing Pinkie, she probably did use all four to trade. With a little chuckle at that thought, she shook her head and took another sip, but then she paused as something caught her eye. Over to the side, and nearly hidden from view in the shadows and reaches of the Everfree Forest, there stood a young filly, dressed as a scarecrow, and looking very nervous. Her whole body was covered in rough, hoof-spun burlap, and it looked very fitted and very naturally done. Even the large floppy hat she wore looked natural and hoofmade, and the necklace hanging around her neck was woven out of cornstalk leaves. Her costume had a wide-stitched mouth, slightly downturned, and she almost looked a little bit scared, hiding an enormous button eye behind the long strands of straw that served as her costume’s mane. How did she even see out of that? Well, it was a night for great costumes. And if she was to be Pinkie for today, she'd go all the way. She set her mug down and nonchalantly ambled over. “Great scarecrow costume,” she started, making her jump. “Thanks,” the filly returned hesitantly. Her voice was scratchy, slightly raspy. A portion of the stitched mouth moved as she spoke; she must have used spirit gum or something to attach it to her lip. It almost looked like it was actually her mouth. “Say, that’s a great mask,” Apple Bloom said, intrigued. “Isn't that itchy at all?” “No,” she answered, sounding almost self-conscious, and she lifted a hoof and brushed against it. Even the bottoms of her hooves were completely covered in burlap; she’d really gone all out on her costume. “Well, it looks great. First Nightmare Night?” Apple Bloom continued. “S- something like that,” the filly admitted. She still looked pretty hesitant, but she seemed to be warming up to this conversation. “Nothing wrong with that,” Apple Bloom said amicably. “You picked a good place to start. Smaller towns like Ponyville have the best Nightmare Night celebrations, and we’ve just started. You're going to love it.” “Thanks,” she said, sounding slightly comforted. “I’m Apple Bloom,” she introduced herself, holding out her hoof. “Cornsilk,” the filly returned, giving her a bump. Apple Bloom nodded, putting the pieces together in her mind. Even with the School of Friendship and Ponyville growing larger, the Everfree Forest continued to do its own thing, and most ponies were more than happy to leave it well enough alone, so most of it wasn’t explored at all. A family of corn farmers living in or near the Everfree Forest would make sense, and of course, a scarecrow would be part and parcel of farming. She glanced down and noticed that she didn’t seem to have a bag of candy. “Did you miss the candy grab?” “Candy grab?” “Yeah. It’s where foals go around to different houses and get candy.” “That sounds a little dangerous,” Cornsilk said hesitantly. “Any other night, sure. But not tonight. That’s part of what makes this night so special,” Apple Bloom said with a grin. “Here, you can have some of mine. I have plenty.” She gestured with her head that she should follow her, and walked over back to the table. She reached for her bag and pulled out a piece of licorice, knowing that the twins would miss that least. She held it out. Cornsilk hesitantly took it, and moved to put the whole thing in her mouth. “No, you have to unwrap it, first,” Apple Bloom said, making the motions with her hooves. Where exactly was this foal from, that she didn’t recognize candy? With a sheepish smile, she did so. She opened her mouth wide and fed it between the stitches, through the gap in her mask. Her ears pricked. “This is delicious,” she said, awed, and quickly shoved the rest in her mouth. Apple Bloom couldn’t help but smile as she gave her another. She felt like she’d just opened this filly’s eyes to a whole new world of candy. Heh. She really was being a good Pinkie tonight. She’d just introduced her to chocolate when Pound and Pumpkin came running back, their backs laden with more sugary treasures. “Hey, Apple Bloom! And Apple Bloom’s friend!” Pumpkin said with a grin as she dumped her haul into her bag. Pound laughed. “Apple Bloom, you pulled a Pinkie!” Pumpkin giggled. “That’s another unofficial Nightmare Night tradition,” she explained. “We always end up with more ponies in our group than we started with.” “Hey, you two. This is Cornsilk. That’s Pound, that’s Pumpkin.” “No, I’m Pumpkin,” Pound said seriously. “She’s Pound.” “Don’t listen to him,” Pumpkin said dismissively. “He’s Poundkin, I’m Pump.” Apple Bloom gave them a sideways look, much to the twins’ amusement (and barely-suppressed laughter). “Hey, we gotta go,” Pound said, shaking one last fun size candy out from his timberwolf jaw. “Sugar Belle’s almost done setting up, and her cupcakes are going to be gone in no time!” Apple Bloom cracked a smile. She totally understood that. She’d seen Sugar Belle preparing for tonight, baking batch after batch of cupcakes. She’d never seen her sister-in-law so happy—or her brother so distressed. Pumpkin shrieked and started running, with Pound following close behind, but then she skidded to a stop. “Well, come on!” she said impatiently, gesturing with her head that Cornsilk should come along. “You want a cupcake or not?” Hesitantly, but with her confidence quickly growing, Cornsilk jumped off the bench and followed the twins, leaving Apple Bloom with plenty of candy and a smile on her face. Until she realized her cider mug was empty. Chapter 2Pound and Pumpkin were surrounded by cupcake wrappers and wax paper, feasting on their baked spoils. Pumpkin roll, cupcakes of various flavors, puffed rice treats, slices of pie, cookies; bits of frosting, sprinkles, and cake crumbs flew everywhere. Nothing was safe from the twins’ ravenous sweet teeth. But Cornsilk was holding her own right along with them. She’d been hesitant to try anything at first, but once she tried one of the cookies, it was like a firework of flavor had gone off in her mind. She dove in head first and everything on the table was fair game. Her favorite seemed to be the caramel corn, but she was willing to try everything Pound or Pumpkin suggested. Apple Bloom was fairly certain she’d even eaten some of the paper wrappings, though that might not have been intentional. She must not have had much in the way of sweets back home. She mentally resolved to skew any candy trades in her favor. The band ended their song, and Mayor Mare stepped up to the microphone. “Thank you, everypony, and welcome to the Nightmare Night festival!” she started. Pumpkin knew this one. “Ooh! It’s almost time for the story! Come on, I want a good seat!” she said, bouncing in place and making her spider legs shake. She and Pound went running, and Apple Bloom gamely went along, and Cornsilk followed, but not before grabbing another sugar cookie for the trip. “Zecora tells a scary story every year,” Apple Bloom explained as they walked. “She used to tell the story of Nightmare Night, but ever since Princess Luna returned, she's been finding other spooky stories to tell.” “Princess Luna?” “You know, the Mare in the Moon?” Cornsilk’s ears pricked. “Ooh,” she said, intrigued. “Crystal Eyes said there used to be a Mare in the Moon, but one night, she vanished, and the Moon stayed up through the next day looking for her. I think the Moon found her again, because the sun came back up.” “Sounds romantic,” Apple Bloom said as Pound stuck his tongue out in exaggerated disgust. “Well, I don’t think anything’s impossible with enough love,” Cornsilk said firmly. “I could believe that,” Pound offered. “I love candy, and now I’m eating it. Doesn’t get much better than that.” Pumpkin giggled. After thanking everypony who had made this night possible, Mayor Mare continued, “Please, give a warm welcome to Ponyville’s famed storyteller, Zecora!” Zecora stepped into the light to excited stomps. Cornsilk gasped. “What happened to her?” she whispered, horrified. “Did she get burned?” “No,” Apple Bloom said kindly, remembering the last time she’d been around ponies unfamiliar with zebras. “She’s a zebra. Her coat naturally looks like that.” “Oh. Why?” Cornsilk asked. Apple Bloom opened her mouth to answer, and then closed it. In all their time together, she’s never actually asked why her coat looked like that. “I’m not quite sure,” she admitted. “Shh!” Pumpkin hissed. “She’s starting!” Zecora lifted a foreleg and began, her voice low and mysterious. “Search any farm, and your search will yield / a scarecrow standing in the field.” She tossed a hoofful of powder on the ground, and green mist arose, forming the image of a scarecrow supported in a cornfield. “But where do these crop defenders go, when they come untied and the winds do blow?” she continued. Apple Bloom glanced over and saw the young filly staring, seemingly enthralled by the story. She smiled and turned back to Zecora. “Sometimes scarecrows blow away in the wind, / and our paths will never cross again.” She blew on the construct, and the scarecrow tumbled away, as if blown by the wind, and the scene faded. With a little smile, she threw another hoofful of powder, and a new scene unfolded. “But the wild magic of Everfree / can bring these rags to life, you see.” Now surrounded by the forest, the scarecrow straightened up and began to shuffle like a zombie pony, causing the crowd to gasp. “And so a beast of sticks and hay / wanders the earth, or so they say. // Like the ponies who made them, they love to grow / and they always surely hate the crows.” “Yeah, I hate crows,” Cornsilk added angrily under her breath, sounding like she was speaking through gritted teeth. “They eat everything.” Apple Bloom smirked. Spoken like a true farmer. “But a living scarecrow has work to do / very much like me and you. // So what, then, must they do to their fields / to ensure a bounteous and fulfilling yield?” She held up the powder and blew, forming an earth pony. “Oh, the terrifying thrill / a living pony will fit the bill! // And a second goal for these strawmares: / Vengeance against those who abandoned them there!” In the green mist, living scarecrows set the pony up on a stand and tied him in place. Apple Bloom glanced over at Cornsilk, excited to see how she was taking this, but her mouth was turned down. She must have been scared. She scooted slightly closer. “So if you find in the forest a small cleared spot, / you may have found a scarecrow’s plot. // Leave that place and turn your tail, / for they will chase you without fail. // They will not stop, they will not yield / until you are the one standing in their fields!” She laughed dramatically and threw one final hoofful of powder at the ground, and an enormous scarecrow leaped seemingly out of the air and opened its stitched mouth wide, seemingly ready to swallow up a living pony. Pumpkin shrieked as the scarecrow landed with its mouth around her, but it exploded harmlessly into green dust. With a maniacal cackle, Zecora stepped backwards and faded into the shadows. The story now over, the music started up again, and the party resumed. Cornsilk sat there, seemingly frozen in place. Apple Bloom gently nudged her, again taken aback at how light she seemed to be. “Are you ok?” “I don’t… know,” she answered, her voice low and uncertain. “I don't think that's how it happens at all.” “Yeah, me neither,” Apple Bloom agreed. “‘Course, I don't believe in scarecrow ponies, either. Not really. But sometimes it's fun to be scared, you know?” “I didn’t like it,” Cornsilk said softly. “And I didn’t think it was very fun.” Apple Bloom pursed her lips. She wasn’t having a good time, and Pinkie wouldn’t have approved of that. “Don’t worry,” she said brightly. “There’s still plenty of more activities to do tonight, and a lot more food. This party’s just getting started.” A sharp whistle split the air. “Hey, listen up!” shouted what looked like a small sphinx standing on a cloud. Apple Bloom squinted. “Is that Rainbow Dash?” she asked. It was. Rainbow Dash pointed. “There’s a big storm front moving in from the Everfree Forest! Came out of nowhere! We’re going to try to contain it, but there’s gonna be a lot of lightning! Party’s over! Everypony needs to go for cover, now!” Apple Bloom huffed. Her and her big mouth. Cornsilk’s ears pinned. “I gotta get home,” she said quickly. “I’ll walk you back,” Apple Bloom offered. “No, it’s ok, I know the way back,” she said, quickly backing up. “I can’t just let a filly wander around the Everfree Forest,” Apple Bloom laughed lightly. “I’m coming with you.” “It’s fine. Really.” Apple Bloom narrowed her eyes. She’d been in the Everfree Forest enough times to know that while an alert foal could make it through during the day, it became a whole different beast at night. “I know, but I’ll come along, anyway.” She must have been getting good at her ‘grown-up’ voice, because Cornsilk’s ears drooped, and she didn’t attempt to argue further. She hurried the foals along until their house was in sight. “Alright, Sugarcube Corner is right there. Run home, go straight inside.” Something else occurred to her. “And don’t touch any of my candy until I get back.” “We won’t,” they chorused innocently. For some reason, this did not fill Apple Bloom with confidence. She narrowed her eyes. “Pinkie Promise,” she ordered. Pound and Pumpkin nervously looked at each other. That ominous peal of thunder was probably just from the incoming storm, right? Either way, they quickly said the words and made the motions in sync. Apple Bloom gave them a satisfied nod, and they took off running. She turned to Cornsilk, who clearly hadn’t understood a word of that. “Now, let’s get you home.” Apple Bloom was no stranger to the Everfree Forest, but Cornsilk led her down paths she hadn’t known were there. Thankfully, they seemed to be heading away from the storm’s direct path, but still, she was a speedy filly. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think she was actually trying to lose her in the forest. Finally, Cornsilk slowed to a stop and turned to face her. “Ok. Here’s good,” she said, taking a small step back and clearly hoping that this would be the end of it. “Thanks for walking me back.” Apple Bloom slowly spun around, looking for any signs of pony habitation, or even another pony; but there was nothing here. “There’s nothing here,” she said. “I’m not abandoning a filly in the middle of the Everfree Forest,” she finished with a light chuckle, only to realize that while she’d been looking around, Cornsilk had disappeared into the forest. She scowled. “Not cool,” she hissed, scuffing a hoof irritably. She could have accepted this, but she felt a sense of responsibility for this strange filly, even though she’d only met her tonight. She raised her ears, trying to hear anything. “If this is a joke, it's not real funny,” she called warningly. All she heard was the sounds of the forest at night. “Oh, I’m going to regret this,” she grumbled, but she headed deeper into the forest in search of her. Apple Bloom walked through the forest as quietly as she could, both to not disturb any animals and to see if she could hear Cornsilk. She couldn’t have gone far. The Everfree Forest was too dense for full-on running. Not that she’d know this from personal experience, of course. After crossing over fallen logs, patches of mushrooms, animal paths, and avoiding a nasty patch of poison joke, she came to the conclusion that she was lost. Not ideal. But calling out for Cornsilk might get her some attention she didn’t want, and while Fluttershy could talk down a manticore, she wasn’t so sure she was up to that. Especially after all the pies she’d eaten tonight. And then she spotted something out of the corner of her eye. She neared cautiously. It was a little village. She could see buildings all in a row, small, rough hewn, and made of wood. Relieved, Apple Bloom made to step forward. This must have been where Cornsilk lived. Once she’d verified that she’d made it back safely, she could take shelter from that coming storm here. But before she stepped out of the woods, something made her pause. It was Nightmare Night, sure; but why was everypony dressed as a scarecrow? Was there some kind of village theme going on? Because, seriously, they were everywhere. It looked like every single pony was dressed as a scarecrow. The colt playing with marbles, the two mares chatting on the corner, even the old pony sitting on a rocking chair in front of what must have been the local general store. All scarecrows, and each was wearing a hat. And some of these ponies were getting really into it. One mare was even carrying a lifeless, stuffed scarecrow filly on her back as she trotted down the street. Apple Bloom smiled wryly. She would look out of place if she came out now. A rodeo pony surrounded by scarecrows. Her hat didn’t even look anything like theirs. Two colts ran by, wearing costumes nearly identical to Cornsilk’s but with different colored bandanas, laughing as they did, seemingly having no trouble at all breathing through the burlap. And then the one in front got his hind leg caught in one of the bars in front of the store. He didn’t notice, but he did notice when he kept moving and it remained stuck, and it tore off. The burlap covering collapsed, sending hay flying. Apple Bloom’s heart stopped. Not a costume. Not a costume. Not a costume! He stumbled and caught himself with his three remaining legs, and let out a low groan, not nearly as concerned as Apple Bloom would think, considering hay was spilling out of the hole in his flank. “Aw, not again,” he said dejectedly. “Hey, Mom?” the second one called. One of the mares chatting looked over and understood instantly. She came over and pulled a sewing kit out of her saddle bag, like a first aid kit. “My little hat, you must be more careful. You’re going to be more patches than burlap at this rate,” she sighed. “It was just my leg,” the colt defended himself, but he stood still as she stuffed the hay back in and sewed his leg back on. He wasn’t in pain, just annoyed, like this was just a trip to the farrier instead of what should have been intensive surgery. It seemed that this was a common procedure, because she was soon finished. “That should do it,” she said. “What of your neck stitches, are they loose?” she asked, like a mother making sure her foal’s face was clean. “Mom, I’m fine,” he protested, pushing her hooves away. Apple Bloom took a few shaky steps backwards. Zecora’s story came flashing to the front of her mind, and while she knew her story had likely been exaggerated for the sake of Nightmare Night, she couldn’t shake the thought of being strung up in a field somewhere. After all, there had to be some basis in fact to the story. Especially because there were actual living scarecrows here! Could she sneak away? Had she been seen? She didn’t think so. She could back away, quietly, and no one would know she was here, she could make it back to Ponyville, and noscarecrow would be the wiser. She shuffled backwards deeper into the forest. And then a rag that tasted very much like hay was stuffed in her mouth. Chapter 3“Please don't scream!” a voice whispered urgently. Apple Bloom made a sound that many would consider a scream, though it was somewhat muffled by the rag. Or, more accurately, Cornsilk’s hoof. “I said don’t scream!” she hissed irritably. Apple Bloom looked sheepish, and Cornsilk pulled her hoof away. “I told you not to follow me!” Cornsilk grumbled. “I wasn’t gonna let a little pony walk into the Everfree Forest by herself,” Apple Bloom defended herself. “This place is dangerous.” She paused. She scooted ever so slightly away. “Are you dangerous?” she asked hesitantly. “No,” Cornsilk said defensively. “Unless you’re a crow,” she amended. “I hate crows.” Apple Bloom’s head spun. “Wait. So Zecora’s story, that’s all real?” “No,” she said irritably. “Crystal Eyes tells it very differently. But none of that matters because you shouldn’t be here right now! You need to leave! If the others catch y-” “Cornsilk!” Cornsilk flinched at her name. “Aw, crowsfeet!” she swore. “Mom’s looking for me. I’m not supposed to leave the village!” She turned back to Apple Bloom. “And you’re not supposed to be here at all!” “We’ve established that,” Apple Bloom said snippily. “Cornsilk?” her mother called again. “Don’t. Move,” Cornsilk warned, and she stepped into the light. “Mom,” she said with a little too much faux cheeriness. Her mother saw right through this. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Where have you been, precious hat?” “Been?” Cornsilk asked, her voice higher pitched than usual. Apple Bloom winced. Cornsilk was a bad liar. “There’s a storm rolling in and you decided to just dance off into the forest?” Apple Bloom had had very similar conversations before, and she knew where this was going. She was silently grateful for that time she’d helped a pony with his tracking cutie mark, and she made her move. “Oh, no. You know I’m not a good dancer,” Cornsilk said disarmingly, hoping to convince her to leave it at that. It didn’t work. “Were you with a colt?” she asked, half suspiciously, half hopefully. “No.” “Filly?” “No.” Apple Bloom winced again. Cornsilk was such a bad liar! Her mother strode forward, squinting into the darkness, as if hoping to prove her wrong. Cornsilk didn’t need to breathe, but she tensed as her mother looked around into the darkness. But though she poked and stomped through the underbrush, Apple Bloom was nowhere to be found. Cornsilk let out a relieved breath. Her mother’s suspicions quelled, she sighed. “Were you out ‘exploring’ again?” “Exploring? Me?” Cornsilk said innocently. It fell flat. Her mother groaned. “Cornsilk, we’ve been over this. You can’t go out in the forest looking for living ponies! They don’t exist, and even if they did, it’s not safe for little scarecrows out there.” Apple Bloom knew this lecture, having been on the receiving end so many times she could almost give it verbatim. She tried to remain as still as possible from her position up in the nearby tree. “I’m not a little scarecrow anymore,” Cornsilk protested. “And yet you keep believing in these foalish stories of living ponies. They’re not real, Cornsilk. Just like the Mare in the Moon. It’s just a story.” “But Crystal Eyes has told us all about them!” “Crystal Eyes is an old scarecrow,” she said tiredly. “Her memory isn’t what it used to be. They’re just bedtime stories she told so long ago and now she believes they’re real.” The wind picked up, and Apple Bloom grabbed tighter onto the branch. She cast a fearful look up at the sky. It really was coming in fast. Hopefully they’d go back inside, and she could find shelter somewhere, maybe in one of the buildings they weren’t in. But as if on cue, another mare approached. “You found her!” “I’m fine, Aunt Kernel,” Cornsilk said tiredly as she affectionately hugged her. Apple Bloom scowled. Great. The Impromptu Mandatory Mother Meeting. She knew this one, too. If she’d had a bit for every time she’d been ready to go home and Applejack got caught up chatting with a friend… “If you call listening to Crystal Eyes’s stories ‘fine’,” Cornsilk’s mother said. “Not again,” Kernel said wearily. “She’s been doing that with Stalk, too. Filling their heads with foalish stories.” “They’re not foalish!” Cornsilk insisted. Apple Bloom really didn’t want to know how she was going to prove that, but she was sure she didn’t want to be around when she did. “No,” her mother said firmly. “Cornsilk, listen to me. There are no such things as-” There came a sudden gust of wind, and with it a loud crack, and the branch Apple Bloom was hiding on suddenly gave way. With a surprised yelp, she fell and hit the ground, bounced, and rolled cutie marks over teakettle until she came to a dazed stop in the middle of the crowd, and her hat followed. Lightning flashed, seemingly emphasizing Apple Bloom’s appearance, and it was quickly followed by ominous thunder. There was a brief pause as every scarecrow processed this new development. “Living ponies!” one shrieked, pointing at her. And with that, everypony (everyscarecrow?) began to panic, running full-tilt in all directions, holding onto their hats. Apple Bloom irritably blew part of her mane out of her eyes. The Spontaneous Mob. She definitely knew this one. Cornsilk ran up. “What are you doing?” she demanded as the other scarecrows ran around. “Don’t look at me,” Apple Bloom returned defensively as she stood up. “It’s not like I meant for that branch to break.” “Come on, we’ve gotta hide you,” Cornsilk urged, putting both forelegs on Apple Bloom’s flank and trying to push her away, but she likely would have had more luck trying to push over a tree. “Alright, alright,” Apple Bloom said, scooping up her hat and moving where Cornsilk wanted. Cornsilk pushed her over behind one of the alleys between the store walls, and Apple Bloom ducked behind a full rain barrel. Together, they listened to the other scarecrows running around. “Well, at least they know you were right about living ponies,” Apple Bloom offered lamely. “Yeah,” Cornsilk snorted. “If my mom realizes I brought you here, I’ll be in so much trouble. She’ll ground me until crows don’t eat corn.” Apple Bloom winced. But memories of how everypony had acted around Zecora at first did give her a little hope. “Ok,” Cornsilk said, looking down and clearly trying to work this out as she went, “they’re going to freak out, because supposedly living ponies like tying scarecrows to tall poles so the crows can land on them, and taking away their heads and putting a pumpkin on instead.” Apple Bloom’s eyes flicked to one side. It was fascinating how far Cornsilk’s eyes seemed to widen, even though they were still only button eyes sewed onto burlap. “In our defense,” Apple Bloom said quickly, “none of our scarecrows were ever alive.” “Ok,” Cornsilk said with forced lightness, “didn’t need to know that. Anyway, they’re going to freak out, they’ll probably group up and try to hunt you down, but with this storm, it might not last long. So all you need to do is lay low for a bit-” Apple Bloom felt her mane raise. Her eyes widened. Cornsilk didn’t seem to notice. “-and you should be able to-” She was interrupted by a terrifyingly close lightning strike. She cried out and clamped her hat to her head, and Apple Bloom was right there with her. “That was way too close,” Apple Bloom breathed, rubbing at her ears. “Yeah,” Cornsilk agreed. “They might not be hunting you down after all.” “Not after that,” Apple Bloom agreed. “I think everypony’s just going to go home and wait out the storm. I mean, I would. Nice blanket, hot cider, the whole shebang.” “Yeah. It’s not like we haven’t seen these storms before. If it gets really bad, there’s this cave that we’ll all take shelter in.” “That makes sense. Can’t burn a cave.” “Nope.” Cornsilk paused. “It did flood once, though. They said there was a lot of patches.” Apple Bloom wanted to ask a question about how exactly scarecrow biology worked when suddenly a much more urgent question came to mind. “Can you… smell?” Cornsilk looked askance at her. “Yeah,” she said, gesturing at the sewn-in folds at the tip of her muzzle. “Can you smell that?” Cornsilk sniffed, and then noticed what Apple Bloom had smelled. “Oh, that’s not good,” she murmured. Hesitantly, they poked their heads out from the alley. The lightning strike had been much more than close. A nearby house was already in flames. The scarecrows were already in action, using their farming tools and clearing the ground around it of debris so the fire couldn’t spread. That made sense to Apple Bloom. A being made of hay couldn’t very well physically fight a fire. It made more sense to- And then a high-pitched scream split the night. She looked over to see a scarecrow mare being physically held back from trying to jump back in. Her ears pinned. Only one thing could be that important. Cornsilk seemed to know what she was thinking. “Don’t-!” she started. But it was too late. Apple Bloom was already moving. One bad barn fire could mean life or death for a farmer, so Apple Bloom had been taught what to do. She tore off her bandanna, dunked it into the rain barrel, draped it over her muzzle, and started running towards the fire. Ignoring the cries of surprise from the scarecrows, she burst in through the door. She looked around. She didn’t see the filly right away, but she wasn’t worried by that. Her help with that firefighting cutie mark had taught her that foals tend to hide if they can’t run, and the fire had already spread. Everything here was hoof-crafted and made of wood. It was really nice, actually, and it was with some regret that Apple Bloom kicked the couch to make sure she wasn’t hiding behind it. She checked in the closet (full of hats), under the table (empty), and in the pantry (surprisingly and yet not, it was full of corn). Her search came up fruitless, so her next guess would be the foal’s room. She headed up the stairs, keenly aware that if something happened to them behind her, she could be trapped up there. She shoulder-checked the door open and found what must have been a filly’s room, with pony dolls made out of cornhusks sitting on hewn shelves and curtains made of dry leaves and vines, already burning. This must have been it. She jumped as she heard loud popping from downstairs. The fire must have gotten to the pantry. She pushed away the intrusive thought about how much popcorn would be going to waste and continued searching. There was nothing under the bed, so she darted over and tore open the closet. There! The gleam from the flames reflecting in the button eyes from a little scarecrow pressed back against the wall. It suddenly occurred to Apple Bloom how horrifying this must look, mysterious popping sounds heralding a living pony wreathed in fire as if coming for her soul. Well, she’d just have to apologize later. Apple Bloom grabbed her around the waist and pulled her out. She barely weighed anything, though she was struggling and kicking frantically. “Don’t worry, we’re getting out-” A burning beam fell down almost three paces in front of her, crashing through the floor and sending embers flying. Apple Bloom yelped and her eyes widened. The stairway was blocked. Well, there was always one other option. “Earth pony strength, don’t fail me now,” Apple Bloom murmured, and she tucked the little scarecrow behind herself and charged forward. She exploded out through the wall, sending wood splinters flying. And for the second time tonight, she fell from someplace high, hit the ground, and rolled, losing her hat in the process. When she came to a stop, the little scarecrow quickly unfolded herself and ran to her mother, who happily grabbed her in a tight, relieved hug. Apple Bloom straightened up and pulled off the bandana. She glanced behind her at the fire, realizing that they’d (rightfully) written this off as a total loss, and then turned back around, looking at the scarecrows surrounding her. She’d been on this end of mobs before, but they had been ponies and not living scarecrows. The wind whipping around with an eerie wailing really didn’t help, either. “Hey, y’all,” she started hesitantly. While her actions were clearly heroic, the crowd still murmured, scuffing their burlap hooves against the ground, burlap eyebrows furrowed. They didn’t look like they trusted her. But then another scarecrow made her way to the front. Her burlap looked more worn and frayed, with patches of various colors dotting her body. Her eye buttons were made of what looked like crystal pieces. Her battered hat was faded, but had formerly been a brilliant blue, and the band still glittered faintly in the light of the flames. “It’s been many moons since I’ve seen a living pony,” she said, her voice low and scratchy. “This is my first time meeting a scarecrow,” Apple Bloom said with a smile. She quickly grabbed onto her hat as the wind picked up. “How did you find us?” Apple Bloom smiled disarmingly, doing her best to maintain eye contact. “Just a crazy random happenstance,” she tried. But Apple Bloom’s grown-up voice was no match for the all-knowing granny eyes. “I’m not sure I believe that,” she replied, though a little smile played at her lips. She looked over her shoulder. “I would believe a curious young scarecrow going too close to the edge of the forest, though,” she added. Apple Bloom did her very best to not look at Cornsilk. She didn’t want to inadvertently incriminate her. But she needn’t have worried. Her little friend must have had quite the reputation already, because every scarecrow there turned to look at her. She made an attempt to smile disarmingly, but it was shaky and nervous, and it didn’t help that she took an instinctive step back. “Me?” she tried innocently. Apple Bloom shook her head. She was such a bad liar! “Please don’t be mad at Cornsilk,” she said, trying to head off anything. “She tried to keep everything a secret, really. I’m just really bad at taking ‘no’ for an answer.” She paused. “That came out wrong,” she said awkwardly. “I mean, I didn’t want to leave her all by her lonesome when we were in the middle of nowhere where if something were to happen, nopony could hear her scream and… that’s not better,” she realized. Thankfully, Crystal Eyes looked more amused than anything else. She looked like she was going to respond, and then another crash of thunder split the night. More than a few scarecrows cried out as a heavy rain started falling. “Well, unless living ponies got a lot more waterproof since I’ve been gone, you’re not going anywhere in this storm,” she said wryly. “Might as well join us to wait it out.” Chapter 4Like Cornsilk had said, all the scarecrows quickly made their way to a cave to wait out the storm. A few pulled out some corn or other vegetables they’d brought with them, and this was soon shared among their friends. Apple Bloom glanced around. It was at least sheltered from the wind. It was a little chilly, but she had the distinct impression that a suggestion of a fire would be a Very Bad Move, so she found a comfortable spot on a log and tried to huddle inside her costume to stay warm. The other scarecrows were still hesitant, and gave her a wide berth. All but one, that is. Crystal Eyes climbed onto the rock across from her. She leaned forward, one hoof raised. “May I?” she asked. Apple Bloom nodded. Crystal Eyes gently brushed a hoof against her cheek, then up against her mane. Apple Bloom wasn’t sure what she was feeling for (or even if she could feel with a hoof made of burlap), but it seemed like she needed this. “You’re quite the pretty pony,” she finally said. “You don’t look so bad yourself,” Apple Bloom said, mostly because she wasn’t sure how to respond. Crystal Eyes scoffed. “I’m old and patchy, and we both know it,” she said dismissively. “I’m surprised I’m still alive.” “I’m surprised you’re even alive at all. Begging your pardon,” Apple Bloom added quickly, realizing just how rude that might have sounded. Crystal Eyes smiled, amused. Somehow, her button eyes seemed to twinkle. “Well, now, that’s quite the story.” A movement behind her made her jump, but she recognized the scarecrow there. Seemingly summoned by the promise of a story, Cornsilk climbed onto the log and snuggled close, and Apple Bloom wrapped a foreleg around her. Scarecrows must have really liked cuddling, which was fairly welcome right now. Crystal Eyes took a steadying breath. “Once upon a time, far up in the north where it always snows, there was an old berry farmer. Though he grew the sweetest berries, this farmer had no family, and very few friends. All he had was the scarecrow he’d made to help guard his fields from the birds.” Apple Bloom glanced around and realized that a couple other scarecrows had approached, drawn in by the story. They sat close, resting against each other, though Apple Bloom was still given a bit of a berth. “As a pony is wont to do, he became lonely, and began to speak to his scarecrow like she was a real pony. Day after day, he poured out his heart to her, telling her his thoughts, fears, dreams. “And then one day, he’d given enough love to her that she came to life.” “Just like that?” Apple Bloom asked. Crystal Eyes nodded. “Just like that. And she loved him right back, because love shared is love returned. Love never runs out, you know. Once it’s shared with another pony, there’s always more.” “Oh, yeah, like the changelings learned to share love,” Apple Bloom said. Crystal Eyes paused, and the burlap over her eyes furrowed, somehow looking just like eyebrows. “The what?” Right. They wouldn’t have known that story. Apple Bloom waved her down. “Never mind. Keep going.” She smiled expectantly, fully aware that it was just a bit too wide. Thankfully, Crystal Eyes didn’t read too much into this, and continued. “She worked in the fields as his partner, his equal. She ate with him, and she would share his bed in the night. And as time went on, their love only grew stronger.” “It’s the button eyes,” another scarecrow suggested. “We’re adorable.” The scarecrow he was laying on batted his hat down playfully. “And then one dark day, the city was overtaken by an evil king.” “Oh, I know this part,” Apple Bloom said, her ears pricking. Crystal Eyes squinted. “You do?” “Yeah. He was a wicked one. Enslaved the ponies with dark magic and mind-control helmets and made them march on Equestria. The two princesses came and fought him, but he cast a crazy curse, and the empire disappeared.” “That… is what happened next,” Crystal agreed. She squinted harder. Who was this mysterious living pony who knew this ancient story she couldn’t possibly have known? “I’ll tell you some of my stories if you finish yours,” Apple Bloom promised. Crystal Eyes gave her a narrow look and a little nod, as if saying ‘I’ll hold you to that’, and then continued. “She waited for years, faithfully tending the little crop in hopes for his return, but she could not tend it alone. Eventually, her hopes faded, she accepted that he was not coming back, and she set out on her own. “She crossed the snowy desert, wandering further south, until the snow began to melt, and the grass began to return under her hooves. Soon, she found another farm, with farming ponies. She was so relieved to find a new place. “But where she expected love, she found fear. They could not comprehend a living scarecrow. Convinced she was a monster, a terror, or an omen of bad harvests to come, every pony that saw her chased her away with pitchforks and fire.” Apple Bloom winced, and most of the scarecrows around her did, too. “She continued wandering, and though she came across the occasional scarecrow, none were alive like she was. She was all alone. “She wandered across the land, eating corn as she found it, chasing crows as she found them, occasionally hiding as a lifeless scarecrow in a field to avoid the fear of the living ponies. “Eventually, she took refuge in a sprawling forest that the living ponies already feared. She became a legend, just a story meant to frighten foals into staying close to home. “And then one fateful morning, while hiding in the forest, she saw a young family traveling, and she got an idea. With what she could find or take from the surrounding farms, she patterned a small filly out of burlap, and stuffed her with hay. She began carrying her around everywhere she went, speaking to her, caring for her. She laid her down for naps, pretended to feed her. “It took almost three whole seasons. But then she, too, came to life.” Apple Bloom let out a cheer, and then quickly covered her mouth, not wanting to interrupt the story. The other scarecrows seemed amused by this. If anything, this little outburst was almost endearing, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d think some of the other scarecrows were getting a little more comfortable, maybe even getting closer to her. “And from two scarecrows, a family was born; and from there, a village, and now, everyone you see here. We’re creatures of love, sustained not just by the food we grow, but by the love we share. As long as there is love, there will be scarecrows.” “That’s so sweet!” Apple Bloom said, grabbing Cornsilk and nuzzling her tightly. Cornsilk giggled. “See?” she said. “All love, no scares. Unless you’re a crow,” she corrected herself. “Hate crows,” a couple other voices chimed in. “And now I think you owe us a story, miss living pony,” Crystal Eyes said pointedly. Apple Bloom gently set Cornsilk down and stood. She turned to face the gathered scarecrows, looking back at her with their large button eyes. She inhaled slowly to steady herself. Crystal Eyes wouldn’t have known this part, and she knew this revelation would rock her world. “So, what she said about the land way up north where it snows all the time? Well, us living ponies, we have a story like that, except we call that place the Crystal Empire.” As Apple Bloom had expected, Crystal Eyes’ ears pricked. She hadn’t used that name in her retelling, but she clearly recognized it. “And we tell it a little bit differently…” One Year Later...Pinkie Pie chortled with glee as she sorted through her candy haul. “Chocolates and caramels and butterscotch toffees,” she sang. “Muffins and cupcakes, both eaten real sloppy,” Pumpkin joined in. “Cookies and brownies and everything sweet,” Pound added. “These are a few of my favorite treats!” they finished in unison before all falling apart laughing. Apple Bloom cracked a smile. She’d only stopped by Sugarcube Corner for some caramel corn and popcorn balls, but now she was getting candy and a show. “Good haul tonight?” “You know it!” Pinkie crowed. “After all, you’re…” “Never too old for candy!” they finished in unison, and then they all shared another laugh and a high hoof. “Well, if you decide you need a break, we’re doing the haunted corn maze again this year,” Apple Bloom offered. “Loads of fun and frights!” “Ooh! I’ll have to add that to the list.” Pinkie reached into Pumpkin’s mane and pulled one out, then retrieved a pencil from behind her ear and did just that. Apple Bloom smiled knowingly. Classic Pinkie. “So, this is the infamous haunted corn maze?” Gallus asked, giving it a good once-over. “Oh, yeah,” Sandbar said. “This is classic Ponyville Nightmare Night. You guys are in for a treat.” “If you say so,” Gallus said, unconvinced. “Doesn’t look too scary.” “Yeah,” Smolder agreed. “Who’s afraid of corn?” “It’s not the corn you need to fear,” an eerie voice interjected suddenly from behind, making them jump. Apple Bloom, with blood and zombie makeup caked on her face, crawled up from a hidden passage. “It’s the creatures inside, horrifying beings given life from your nightmares! Beware, beware!” Her performance was met with less than rave reviews. More like raised eyebrows. But Apple Bloom didn’t seem to mind. “Three may enter at a time,” she said, still using her spooky voice, “but stay close! Not all three of you may leave!” Gallus, Smolder, and Ocellus happened to be first in the group, and they approached the line. Before they crossed, Apple Bloom leaned in. “Oh, and, uh, please don’t touch the decorations,” she advised in her normal voice, holding the back of her hoof over her mouth. “They don’t like that.” Gallus blinked. “You got it,” he said patronizingly, clearly convinced she was just a little too into character tonight. They made their way through the corn. “There sure are a lot of scarecrows here,” Ocellus commented nervously. “It’s a corn field,” Gallus said dismissively. “There’s gonna be- yipe!” For he had accidentally stepped on a wire and activated the first trap: a spring-loaded wooden plank with a scary pumpkin drawn on it. Gallus scoffed. “Meh,” he said, downplaying his previous reaction. Ocellus huffed. She’d been scared. “Look, all I’m saying is, if you want to scare a griffon, you’ll have to try a little harder.” “Empty wallets,” Smolder suggested in her best eerie!Apple Bloom impression. “No more biiiiits!” Gallus did flinch at that, and then glared at his dragon friend. With a cocky little smile, Smolder took the lead. As they continued, the jumpscares increased, and the atmosphere darkened. Creepy vines, eerie lights, cobwebs, and the occasional flickering lamp. The decorations became more complex, but also slightly familiar. The horrifying vampire in garish clothing and doused in fake blood became a little less terrifying when Professor Rarity’s eyes caught the light. A terrifying mummy became a little more silly when it became apparent she was still wearing an anachronistic hat, and a plant monster who seemed a little too interested in how changeling biology worked turned out to be Fluttershy’s friend. And then it grew silent. Expecting a scare and then not getting a scare plays tricks on the mind. Was somepony watching them? What about that noise, was that the rushing of the wind, or ponies rushing through the corn behind them? Did somepony run across the path behind them? All they could see was the occasional scarecrow. “Alright,” Smolder said hesitantly. “Maybe it’s not so bad.” Ocellus squeaked indignantly. After what felt like an eternity, the end finally came into view. “Yeah, that was pretty good,” Gallus conceded, but clearly relieved. “Silverstream is going to scream her head off.” And then he bumped into a scarecrow decoration that seemed to have been left right in the way, knocking it over. It rolled across the ground, its limbs splaying and wrapping around itself and its body twisting in ways no pony’s could, and its hat rolled dolefully away. “You touched a decoration,” Ocellus hissed. “Nice going, dude,” Smolder teased. “Hey, griffons hunt in the day,” Gallus defended himself. “Our night vision stinks.” “Uh, guys?” Ocellus said shakily. “So do dragons,” Smolder retorted, “and you don’t see me-” “Guys,” Ocellus repeated, more urgently this time. “Chill, it was an accident. Forgiveness is magic, right?” “Guys!” “What?” Ocellus pointed at the scarecrow. The scarecrow’s body had unfolded itself and pushed itself up. It began shuffling forward, looking down, head scanning, as if looking for something. They looked around, but there was no visible aura or sound of magic. What was animating it? Wires? Finding what she was looking for, the scarecrow reached down, picked up her hat, gently dusted it off, and then put it back on, adjusting it to her liking. Then, she turned back to the group. “Please don’t touch the decorations,” she said softly as she took a step forward, her stitched mouth moving with her words. “We don’t like that.” All semblance of bravado evaporated. Gallus screamed and turned to run, only to have Smolder pull him back to use as a springboard to leap over him in a mad dash to the exit. Ocellus quickly followed. Apple Bloom poked her head in and gave her a knowing smirk. “Ok,” Cornsilk conceded with a little smile, adjusting her hat, “maybe it’s a little fun to be scary.” “All aboard! Crystal Empire express departing momentarily.” Anypony who was anypony was wearing a costume tonight. Even the train had been decorated with Nightmare Night livery. So nopony gave the old mare dressed as a patchy old scarecrow in the back corner of the car a second look. When the train arrived at the station after what felt like an eternity, she stepped off the train and looked around. It was strange. Strange, and yet so familiar. The architecture hadn’t changed much. Multi-faceted crystal houses in brilliant colors still lined the center street on the way to the Crystal Heart. Though they may have been wearing costumes, the shimmering of their crystal bodies was unmistakable, unlike the other, dull living ponies she’d seen (and run from). It quite literally felt like she was coming home. She continued walking, reminiscing about some of the streets she was on. That was where the Crystal Farmer’s Market would be. This was where the Crystal Faire would be, with the tiny ewes with big appetites. She paused as she saw something she didn’t recognize: a statue of what looked like a giant lizard holding a heart. That was odd. She tilted her head, trying to make sense of this. And then she heard an old stallion’s voice that made her freeze. “Crystal Eyes?”
Chapter 1“Nightmare Night, what a fright, give us something sweet to bite!” Pound and Pumpkin Cake chorused in unison. Pound snapped his timberwolf-esque jaw, and Pumpkin shook her head, making the legs of her spider costume shake menacingly along with it. “Wow! Such scary costumes!” Pinkie exclaimed. She reared up and leaned over, making sure to not put too much weight on the hind leg that was currently protected by a cast, and grabbed their bags. They gleefully took them, and with no less enthusiasm, she picked up a large bunch of candy with both hooves and dumped half into each of their bags. “There! Your first candy of the night!” She grinned. “You too, Apple Bloom!” She held out another bag expectantly. Apple Bloom, who was currently filling in for Pinkie tonight as a last-minute thing and so was only wearing her sister’s last year’s rodeo outfit, laughed lightly and held up a hoof. “Thanks, Pinkie,” she said, “but I'm not really out for candy tonight.” Pinkie gasped dramatically and took a step backwards in horror, wobbling on her cast. “But it's Nightmare Night!” she protested, suddenly injecting her face into Apple Bloom’s personal space. “And Nightmare Night is for candy!” Apple Bloom pulled on a smile and verbally backpedalled. “Yeah, but-” “And you said you'd do all the things I would do as my official Nightmare Night Chaperone replacement!” Pinkie interrupted. “Yeah! All the things!” Pumpkin added, bouncing in place, making her spider legs wave. “Like running around and pretending to be really scared of everything!” “And trading us all the good stuff you get!” Pound said, shaking his bag in anticipation. “It's tradition,” Pinkie sang. Apple Bloom rolled her eyes, but obligingly took the bag, and Pinkie cheerfully dumped in another heaping hoofful of candy. Behind them, the door opened, and their parents came out. As the twins ran over to show their enthusiastic parents their costumes, Pinkie pulled Apple Bloom aside. “Now, here's the basic trading situation.” She whipped out a folded piece of paper that unfolded into a sizable chart that looked like two interlocking circles with different colored levels and various candy names on each level. She took a deep breath. “Pound likes peanuts but not almonds, and Pumpkin likes almonds but not peanuts. They'll trade with each other, but if you're fast, you can get some good stuff from both of them. Both like peanut butter but Pound likes it a lot more so he'll sometimes trade Pumpkin for it preemptively. Don't try to trade him for any, you won’t get any. Pumpkin likes red licorice but can't stand black licorice, Pound doesn't like either but since Pumpkin knows she’ll get it from him anyway she won't trade him much for it. Your best bet is to get a bunch of red licorice from Pound for cheap and then trade it to Pumpkin as a deal-sweetener—no pun intended—for more expensive stuff. Now-” “Wait. I thought you were just giving them the stuff they liked and taking what they didn't,” Apple Bloom said. Pinkie barked a laugh. “They wish,” she said darkly, her eyes narrowing. Even the room seemed to darken in the force of her intensity. “Candy trades are a serious business.” A split second later, she and the room were back to normal so quickly it was like nothing had happened. “Anyway, Pumpkin likes fruit, apples are her favorite, but Pound thinks this night is for pure sugar, so don't even offer him any. Fruit chews, on the other hoof…” The evening party had technically just barely started, but in reality, it was already in full swing. Ponies and others were dancing to the live music, playing various carnival games, and generally having a good time, but Apple Bloom was already looking forward to calling it a night. Pound and Pumpkin had sketched out the optimal path to take to hit the houses that tended to give the largest candy, and, of course, none of them were near each other, so they had run the entire way, dragging her along behind. It was no wonder Pinkie had felt she wasn’t up to this task with a broken leg. Apple Bloom wasn’t sure she was up to it, and she didn’t have any broken legs! She was certain she hadn’t been this rambunctious when she was a filly. Thankfully, both twins had agreed to let her be the Guardian of the Candy while they went to win more candy and treats at the carnival games, so she was currently sitting at a table, sipping at a mug of cider, with three bulging bags of candy hiding under the table. The haul had been substantial. She wasn’t really looking forward to the candy trading scene afterwards. That was shaping up to be a chaotic event. Maybe she could put that back on Pinkie. It wasn’t like you needed four hooves to trade candy, right? Actually, knowing Pinkie, she probably did use all four to trade. With a little chuckle at that thought, she shook her head and took another sip, but then she paused as something caught her eye. Over to the side, and nearly hidden from view in the shadows and reaches of the Everfree Forest, there stood a young filly, dressed as a scarecrow, and looking very nervous. Her whole body was covered in rough, hoof-spun burlap, and it looked very fitted and very naturally done. Even the large floppy hat she wore looked natural and hoofmade, and the necklace hanging around her neck was woven out of cornstalk leaves. Her costume had a wide-stitched mouth, slightly downturned, and she almost looked a little bit scared, hiding an enormous button eye behind the long strands of straw that served as her costume’s mane. How did she even see out of that? Well, it was a night for great costumes. And if she was to be Pinkie for today, she'd go all the way. She set her mug down and nonchalantly ambled over. “Great scarecrow costume,” she started, making her jump. “Thanks,” the filly returned hesitantly. Her voice was scratchy, slightly raspy. A portion of the stitched mouth moved as she spoke; she must have used spirit gum or something to attach it to her lip. It almost looked like it was actually her mouth. “Say, that’s a great mask,” Apple Bloom said, intrigued. “Isn't that itchy at all?” “No,” she answered, sounding almost self-conscious, and she lifted a hoof and brushed against it. Even the bottoms of her hooves were completely covered in burlap; she’d really gone all out on her costume. “Well, it looks great. First Nightmare Night?” Apple Bloom continued. “S- something like that,” the filly admitted. She still looked pretty hesitant, but she seemed to be warming up to this conversation. “Nothing wrong with that,” Apple Bloom said amicably. “You picked a good place to start. Smaller towns like Ponyville have the best Nightmare Night celebrations, and we’ve just started. You're going to love it.” “Thanks,” she said, sounding slightly comforted. “I’m Apple Bloom,” she introduced herself, holding out her hoof. “Cornsilk,” the filly returned, giving her a bump. Apple Bloom nodded, putting the pieces together in her mind. Even with the School of Friendship and Ponyville growing larger, the Everfree Forest continued to do its own thing, and most ponies were more than happy to leave it well enough alone, so most of it wasn’t explored at all. A family of corn farmers living in or near the Everfree Forest would make sense, and of course, a scarecrow would be part and parcel of farming. She glanced down and noticed that she didn’t seem to have a bag of candy. “Did you miss the candy grab?” “Candy grab?” “Yeah. It’s where foals go around to different houses and get candy.” “That sounds a little dangerous,” Cornsilk said hesitantly. “Any other night, sure. But not tonight. That’s part of what makes this night so special,” Apple Bloom said with a grin. “Here, you can have some of mine. I have plenty.” She gestured with her head that she should follow her, and walked over back to the table. She reached for her bag and pulled out a piece of licorice, knowing that the twins would miss that least. She held it out. Cornsilk hesitantly took it, and moved to put the whole thing in her mouth. “No, you have to unwrap it, first,” Apple Bloom said, making the motions with her hooves. Where exactly was this foal from, that she didn’t recognize candy? With a sheepish smile, she did so. She opened her mouth wide and fed it between the stitches, through the gap in her mask. Her ears pricked. “This is delicious,” she said, awed, and quickly shoved the rest in her mouth. Apple Bloom couldn’t help but smile as she gave her another. She felt like she’d just opened this filly’s eyes to a whole new world of candy. Heh. She really was being a good Pinkie tonight. She’d just introduced her to chocolate when Pound and Pumpkin came running back, their backs laden with more sugary treasures. “Hey, Apple Bloom! And Apple Bloom’s friend!” Pumpkin said with a grin as she dumped her haul into her bag. Pound laughed. “Apple Bloom, you pulled a Pinkie!” Pumpkin giggled. “That’s another unofficial Nightmare Night tradition,” she explained. “We always end up with more ponies in our group than we started with.” “Hey, you two. This is Cornsilk. That’s Pound, that’s Pumpkin.” “No, I’m Pumpkin,” Pound said seriously. “She’s Pound.” “Don’t listen to him,” Pumpkin said dismissively. “He’s Poundkin, I’m Pump.” Apple Bloom gave them a sideways look, much to the twins’ amusement (and barely-suppressed laughter). “Hey, we gotta go,” Pound said, shaking one last fun size candy out from his timberwolf jaw. “Sugar Belle’s almost done setting up, and her cupcakes are going to be gone in no time!” Apple Bloom cracked a smile. She totally understood that. She’d seen Sugar Belle preparing for tonight, baking batch after batch of cupcakes. She’d never seen her sister-in-law so happy—or her brother so distressed. Pumpkin shrieked and started running, with Pound following close behind, but then she skidded to a stop. “Well, come on!” she said impatiently, gesturing with her head that Cornsilk should come along. “You want a cupcake or not?” Hesitantly, but with her confidence quickly growing, Cornsilk jumped off the bench and followed the twins, leaving Apple Bloom with plenty of candy and a smile on her face. Until she realized her cider mug was empty.
Chapter 2Pound and Pumpkin were surrounded by cupcake wrappers and wax paper, feasting on their baked spoils. Pumpkin roll, cupcakes of various flavors, puffed rice treats, slices of pie, cookies; bits of frosting, sprinkles, and cake crumbs flew everywhere. Nothing was safe from the twins’ ravenous sweet teeth. But Cornsilk was holding her own right along with them. She’d been hesitant to try anything at first, but once she tried one of the cookies, it was like a firework of flavor had gone off in her mind. She dove in head first and everything on the table was fair game. Her favorite seemed to be the caramel corn, but she was willing to try everything Pound or Pumpkin suggested. Apple Bloom was fairly certain she’d even eaten some of the paper wrappings, though that might not have been intentional. She must not have had much in the way of sweets back home. She mentally resolved to skew any candy trades in her favor. The band ended their song, and Mayor Mare stepped up to the microphone. “Thank you, everypony, and welcome to the Nightmare Night festival!” she started. Pumpkin knew this one. “Ooh! It’s almost time for the story! Come on, I want a good seat!” she said, bouncing in place and making her spider legs shake. She and Pound went running, and Apple Bloom gamely went along, and Cornsilk followed, but not before grabbing another sugar cookie for the trip. “Zecora tells a scary story every year,” Apple Bloom explained as they walked. “She used to tell the story of Nightmare Night, but ever since Princess Luna returned, she's been finding other spooky stories to tell.” “Princess Luna?” “You know, the Mare in the Moon?” Cornsilk’s ears pricked. “Ooh,” she said, intrigued. “Crystal Eyes said there used to be a Mare in the Moon, but one night, she vanished, and the Moon stayed up through the next day looking for her. I think the Moon found her again, because the sun came back up.” “Sounds romantic,” Apple Bloom said as Pound stuck his tongue out in exaggerated disgust. “Well, I don’t think anything’s impossible with enough love,” Cornsilk said firmly. “I could believe that,” Pound offered. “I love candy, and now I’m eating it. Doesn’t get much better than that.” Pumpkin giggled. After thanking everypony who had made this night possible, Mayor Mare continued, “Please, give a warm welcome to Ponyville’s famed storyteller, Zecora!” Zecora stepped into the light to excited stomps. Cornsilk gasped. “What happened to her?” she whispered, horrified. “Did she get burned?” “No,” Apple Bloom said kindly, remembering the last time she’d been around ponies unfamiliar with zebras. “She’s a zebra. Her coat naturally looks like that.” “Oh. Why?” Cornsilk asked. Apple Bloom opened her mouth to answer, and then closed it. In all their time together, she’s never actually asked why her coat looked like that. “I’m not quite sure,” she admitted. “Shh!” Pumpkin hissed. “She’s starting!” Zecora lifted a foreleg and began, her voice low and mysterious. “Search any farm, and your search will yield / a scarecrow standing in the field.” She tossed a hoofful of powder on the ground, and green mist arose, forming the image of a scarecrow supported in a cornfield. “But where do these crop defenders go, when they come untied and the winds do blow?” she continued. Apple Bloom glanced over and saw the young filly staring, seemingly enthralled by the story. She smiled and turned back to Zecora. “Sometimes scarecrows blow away in the wind, / and our paths will never cross again.” She blew on the construct, and the scarecrow tumbled away, as if blown by the wind, and the scene faded. With a little smile, she threw another hoofful of powder, and a new scene unfolded. “But the wild magic of Everfree / can bring these rags to life, you see.” Now surrounded by the forest, the scarecrow straightened up and began to shuffle like a zombie pony, causing the crowd to gasp. “And so a beast of sticks and hay / wanders the earth, or so they say. // Like the ponies who made them, they love to grow / and they always surely hate the crows.” “Yeah, I hate crows,” Cornsilk added angrily under her breath, sounding like she was speaking through gritted teeth. “They eat everything.” Apple Bloom smirked. Spoken like a true farmer. “But a living scarecrow has work to do / very much like me and you. // So what, then, must they do to their fields / to ensure a bounteous and fulfilling yield?” She held up the powder and blew, forming an earth pony. “Oh, the terrifying thrill / a living pony will fit the bill! // And a second goal for these strawmares: / Vengeance against those who abandoned them there!” In the green mist, living scarecrows set the pony up on a stand and tied him in place. Apple Bloom glanced over at Cornsilk, excited to see how she was taking this, but her mouth was turned down. She must have been scared. She scooted slightly closer. “So if you find in the forest a small cleared spot, / you may have found a scarecrow’s plot. // Leave that place and turn your tail, / for they will chase you without fail. // They will not stop, they will not yield / until you are the one standing in their fields!” She laughed dramatically and threw one final hoofful of powder at the ground, and an enormous scarecrow leaped seemingly out of the air and opened its stitched mouth wide, seemingly ready to swallow up a living pony. Pumpkin shrieked as the scarecrow landed with its mouth around her, but it exploded harmlessly into green dust. With a maniacal cackle, Zecora stepped backwards and faded into the shadows. The story now over, the music started up again, and the party resumed. Cornsilk sat there, seemingly frozen in place. Apple Bloom gently nudged her, again taken aback at how light she seemed to be. “Are you ok?” “I don’t… know,” she answered, her voice low and uncertain. “I don't think that's how it happens at all.” “Yeah, me neither,” Apple Bloom agreed. “‘Course, I don't believe in scarecrow ponies, either. Not really. But sometimes it's fun to be scared, you know?” “I didn’t like it,” Cornsilk said softly. “And I didn’t think it was very fun.” Apple Bloom pursed her lips. She wasn’t having a good time, and Pinkie wouldn’t have approved of that. “Don’t worry,” she said brightly. “There’s still plenty of more activities to do tonight, and a lot more food. This party’s just getting started.” A sharp whistle split the air. “Hey, listen up!” shouted what looked like a small sphinx standing on a cloud. Apple Bloom squinted. “Is that Rainbow Dash?” she asked. It was. Rainbow Dash pointed. “There’s a big storm front moving in from the Everfree Forest! Came out of nowhere! We’re going to try to contain it, but there’s gonna be a lot of lightning! Party’s over! Everypony needs to go for cover, now!” Apple Bloom huffed. Her and her big mouth. Cornsilk’s ears pinned. “I gotta get home,” she said quickly. “I’ll walk you back,” Apple Bloom offered. “No, it’s ok, I know the way back,” she said, quickly backing up. “I can’t just let a filly wander around the Everfree Forest,” Apple Bloom laughed lightly. “I’m coming with you.” “It’s fine. Really.” Apple Bloom narrowed her eyes. She’d been in the Everfree Forest enough times to know that while an alert foal could make it through during the day, it became a whole different beast at night. “I know, but I’ll come along, anyway.” She must have been getting good at her ‘grown-up’ voice, because Cornsilk’s ears drooped, and she didn’t attempt to argue further. She hurried the foals along until their house was in sight. “Alright, Sugarcube Corner is right there. Run home, go straight inside.” Something else occurred to her. “And don’t touch any of my candy until I get back.” “We won’t,” they chorused innocently. For some reason, this did not fill Apple Bloom with confidence. She narrowed her eyes. “Pinkie Promise,” she ordered. Pound and Pumpkin nervously looked at each other. That ominous peal of thunder was probably just from the incoming storm, right? Either way, they quickly said the words and made the motions in sync. Apple Bloom gave them a satisfied nod, and they took off running. She turned to Cornsilk, who clearly hadn’t understood a word of that. “Now, let’s get you home.” Apple Bloom was no stranger to the Everfree Forest, but Cornsilk led her down paths she hadn’t known were there. Thankfully, they seemed to be heading away from the storm’s direct path, but still, she was a speedy filly. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think she was actually trying to lose her in the forest. Finally, Cornsilk slowed to a stop and turned to face her. “Ok. Here’s good,” she said, taking a small step back and clearly hoping that this would be the end of it. “Thanks for walking me back.” Apple Bloom slowly spun around, looking for any signs of pony habitation, or even another pony; but there was nothing here. “There’s nothing here,” she said. “I’m not abandoning a filly in the middle of the Everfree Forest,” she finished with a light chuckle, only to realize that while she’d been looking around, Cornsilk had disappeared into the forest. She scowled. “Not cool,” she hissed, scuffing a hoof irritably. She could have accepted this, but she felt a sense of responsibility for this strange filly, even though she’d only met her tonight. She raised her ears, trying to hear anything. “If this is a joke, it's not real funny,” she called warningly. All she heard was the sounds of the forest at night. “Oh, I’m going to regret this,” she grumbled, but she headed deeper into the forest in search of her. Apple Bloom walked through the forest as quietly as she could, both to not disturb any animals and to see if she could hear Cornsilk. She couldn’t have gone far. The Everfree Forest was too dense for full-on running. Not that she’d know this from personal experience, of course. After crossing over fallen logs, patches of mushrooms, animal paths, and avoiding a nasty patch of poison joke, she came to the conclusion that she was lost. Not ideal. But calling out for Cornsilk might get her some attention she didn’t want, and while Fluttershy could talk down a manticore, she wasn’t so sure she was up to that. Especially after all the pies she’d eaten tonight. And then she spotted something out of the corner of her eye. She neared cautiously. It was a little village. She could see buildings all in a row, small, rough hewn, and made of wood. Relieved, Apple Bloom made to step forward. This must have been where Cornsilk lived. Once she’d verified that she’d made it back safely, she could take shelter from that coming storm here. But before she stepped out of the woods, something made her pause. It was Nightmare Night, sure; but why was everypony dressed as a scarecrow? Was there some kind of village theme going on? Because, seriously, they were everywhere. It looked like every single pony was dressed as a scarecrow. The colt playing with marbles, the two mares chatting on the corner, even the old pony sitting on a rocking chair in front of what must have been the local general store. All scarecrows, and each was wearing a hat. And some of these ponies were getting really into it. One mare was even carrying a lifeless, stuffed scarecrow filly on her back as she trotted down the street. Apple Bloom smiled wryly. She would look out of place if she came out now. A rodeo pony surrounded by scarecrows. Her hat didn’t even look anything like theirs. Two colts ran by, wearing costumes nearly identical to Cornsilk’s but with different colored bandanas, laughing as they did, seemingly having no trouble at all breathing through the burlap. And then the one in front got his hind leg caught in one of the bars in front of the store. He didn’t notice, but he did notice when he kept moving and it remained stuck, and it tore off. The burlap covering collapsed, sending hay flying. Apple Bloom’s heart stopped. Not a costume. Not a costume. Not a costume! He stumbled and caught himself with his three remaining legs, and let out a low groan, not nearly as concerned as Apple Bloom would think, considering hay was spilling out of the hole in his flank. “Aw, not again,” he said dejectedly. “Hey, Mom?” the second one called. One of the mares chatting looked over and understood instantly. She came over and pulled a sewing kit out of her saddle bag, like a first aid kit. “My little hat, you must be more careful. You’re going to be more patches than burlap at this rate,” she sighed. “It was just my leg,” the colt defended himself, but he stood still as she stuffed the hay back in and sewed his leg back on. He wasn’t in pain, just annoyed, like this was just a trip to the farrier instead of what should have been intensive surgery. It seemed that this was a common procedure, because she was soon finished. “That should do it,” she said. “What of your neck stitches, are they loose?” she asked, like a mother making sure her foal’s face was clean. “Mom, I’m fine,” he protested, pushing her hooves away. Apple Bloom took a few shaky steps backwards. Zecora’s story came flashing to the front of her mind, and while she knew her story had likely been exaggerated for the sake of Nightmare Night, she couldn’t shake the thought of being strung up in a field somewhere. After all, there had to be some basis in fact to the story. Especially because there were actual living scarecrows here! Could she sneak away? Had she been seen? She didn’t think so. She could back away, quietly, and no one would know she was here, she could make it back to Ponyville, and noscarecrow would be the wiser. She shuffled backwards deeper into the forest. And then a rag that tasted very much like hay was stuffed in her mouth.
Chapter 3“Please don't scream!” a voice whispered urgently. Apple Bloom made a sound that many would consider a scream, though it was somewhat muffled by the rag. Or, more accurately, Cornsilk’s hoof. “I said don’t scream!” she hissed irritably. Apple Bloom looked sheepish, and Cornsilk pulled her hoof away. “I told you not to follow me!” Cornsilk grumbled. “I wasn’t gonna let a little pony walk into the Everfree Forest by herself,” Apple Bloom defended herself. “This place is dangerous.” She paused. She scooted ever so slightly away. “Are you dangerous?” she asked hesitantly. “No,” Cornsilk said defensively. “Unless you’re a crow,” she amended. “I hate crows.” Apple Bloom’s head spun. “Wait. So Zecora’s story, that’s all real?” “No,” she said irritably. “Crystal Eyes tells it very differently. But none of that matters because you shouldn’t be here right now! You need to leave! If the others catch y-” “Cornsilk!” Cornsilk flinched at her name. “Aw, crowsfeet!” she swore. “Mom’s looking for me. I’m not supposed to leave the village!” She turned back to Apple Bloom. “And you’re not supposed to be here at all!” “We’ve established that,” Apple Bloom said snippily. “Cornsilk?” her mother called again. “Don’t. Move,” Cornsilk warned, and she stepped into the light. “Mom,” she said with a little too much faux cheeriness. Her mother saw right through this. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Where have you been, precious hat?” “Been?” Cornsilk asked, her voice higher pitched than usual. Apple Bloom winced. Cornsilk was a bad liar. “There’s a storm rolling in and you decided to just dance off into the forest?” Apple Bloom had had very similar conversations before, and she knew where this was going. She was silently grateful for that time she’d helped a pony with his tracking cutie mark, and she made her move. “Oh, no. You know I’m not a good dancer,” Cornsilk said disarmingly, hoping to convince her to leave it at that. It didn’t work. “Were you with a colt?” she asked, half suspiciously, half hopefully. “No.” “Filly?” “No.” Apple Bloom winced again. Cornsilk was such a bad liar! Her mother strode forward, squinting into the darkness, as if hoping to prove her wrong. Cornsilk didn’t need to breathe, but she tensed as her mother looked around into the darkness. But though she poked and stomped through the underbrush, Apple Bloom was nowhere to be found. Cornsilk let out a relieved breath. Her mother’s suspicions quelled, she sighed. “Were you out ‘exploring’ again?” “Exploring? Me?” Cornsilk said innocently. It fell flat. Her mother groaned. “Cornsilk, we’ve been over this. You can’t go out in the forest looking for living ponies! They don’t exist, and even if they did, it’s not safe for little scarecrows out there.” Apple Bloom knew this lecture, having been on the receiving end so many times she could almost give it verbatim. She tried to remain as still as possible from her position up in the nearby tree. “I’m not a little scarecrow anymore,” Cornsilk protested. “And yet you keep believing in these foalish stories of living ponies. They’re not real, Cornsilk. Just like the Mare in the Moon. It’s just a story.” “But Crystal Eyes has told us all about them!” “Crystal Eyes is an old scarecrow,” she said tiredly. “Her memory isn’t what it used to be. They’re just bedtime stories she told so long ago and now she believes they’re real.” The wind picked up, and Apple Bloom grabbed tighter onto the branch. She cast a fearful look up at the sky. It really was coming in fast. Hopefully they’d go back inside, and she could find shelter somewhere, maybe in one of the buildings they weren’t in. But as if on cue, another mare approached. “You found her!” “I’m fine, Aunt Kernel,” Cornsilk said tiredly as she affectionately hugged her. Apple Bloom scowled. Great. The Impromptu Mandatory Mother Meeting. She knew this one, too. If she’d had a bit for every time she’d been ready to go home and Applejack got caught up chatting with a friend… “If you call listening to Crystal Eyes’s stories ‘fine’,” Cornsilk’s mother said. “Not again,” Kernel said wearily. “She’s been doing that with Stalk, too. Filling their heads with foalish stories.” “They’re not foalish!” Cornsilk insisted. Apple Bloom really didn’t want to know how she was going to prove that, but she was sure she didn’t want to be around when she did. “No,” her mother said firmly. “Cornsilk, listen to me. There are no such things as-” There came a sudden gust of wind, and with it a loud crack, and the branch Apple Bloom was hiding on suddenly gave way. With a surprised yelp, she fell and hit the ground, bounced, and rolled cutie marks over teakettle until she came to a dazed stop in the middle of the crowd, and her hat followed. Lightning flashed, seemingly emphasizing Apple Bloom’s appearance, and it was quickly followed by ominous thunder. There was a brief pause as every scarecrow processed this new development. “Living ponies!” one shrieked, pointing at her. And with that, everypony (everyscarecrow?) began to panic, running full-tilt in all directions, holding onto their hats. Apple Bloom irritably blew part of her mane out of her eyes. The Spontaneous Mob. She definitely knew this one. Cornsilk ran up. “What are you doing?” she demanded as the other scarecrows ran around. “Don’t look at me,” Apple Bloom returned defensively as she stood up. “It’s not like I meant for that branch to break.” “Come on, we’ve gotta hide you,” Cornsilk urged, putting both forelegs on Apple Bloom’s flank and trying to push her away, but she likely would have had more luck trying to push over a tree. “Alright, alright,” Apple Bloom said, scooping up her hat and moving where Cornsilk wanted. Cornsilk pushed her over behind one of the alleys between the store walls, and Apple Bloom ducked behind a full rain barrel. Together, they listened to the other scarecrows running around. “Well, at least they know you were right about living ponies,” Apple Bloom offered lamely. “Yeah,” Cornsilk snorted. “If my mom realizes I brought you here, I’ll be in so much trouble. She’ll ground me until crows don’t eat corn.” Apple Bloom winced. But memories of how everypony had acted around Zecora at first did give her a little hope. “Ok,” Cornsilk said, looking down and clearly trying to work this out as she went, “they’re going to freak out, because supposedly living ponies like tying scarecrows to tall poles so the crows can land on them, and taking away their heads and putting a pumpkin on instead.” Apple Bloom’s eyes flicked to one side. It was fascinating how far Cornsilk’s eyes seemed to widen, even though they were still only button eyes sewed onto burlap. “In our defense,” Apple Bloom said quickly, “none of our scarecrows were ever alive.” “Ok,” Cornsilk said with forced lightness, “didn’t need to know that. Anyway, they’re going to freak out, they’ll probably group up and try to hunt you down, but with this storm, it might not last long. So all you need to do is lay low for a bit-” Apple Bloom felt her mane raise. Her eyes widened. Cornsilk didn’t seem to notice. “-and you should be able to-” She was interrupted by a terrifyingly close lightning strike. She cried out and clamped her hat to her head, and Apple Bloom was right there with her. “That was way too close,” Apple Bloom breathed, rubbing at her ears. “Yeah,” Cornsilk agreed. “They might not be hunting you down after all.” “Not after that,” Apple Bloom agreed. “I think everypony’s just going to go home and wait out the storm. I mean, I would. Nice blanket, hot cider, the whole shebang.” “Yeah. It’s not like we haven’t seen these storms before. If it gets really bad, there’s this cave that we’ll all take shelter in.” “That makes sense. Can’t burn a cave.” “Nope.” Cornsilk paused. “It did flood once, though. They said there was a lot of patches.” Apple Bloom wanted to ask a question about how exactly scarecrow biology worked when suddenly a much more urgent question came to mind. “Can you… smell?” Cornsilk looked askance at her. “Yeah,” she said, gesturing at the sewn-in folds at the tip of her muzzle. “Can you smell that?” Cornsilk sniffed, and then noticed what Apple Bloom had smelled. “Oh, that’s not good,” she murmured. Hesitantly, they poked their heads out from the alley. The lightning strike had been much more than close. A nearby house was already in flames. The scarecrows were already in action, using their farming tools and clearing the ground around it of debris so the fire couldn’t spread. That made sense to Apple Bloom. A being made of hay couldn’t very well physically fight a fire. It made more sense to- And then a high-pitched scream split the night. She looked over to see a scarecrow mare being physically held back from trying to jump back in. Her ears pinned. Only one thing could be that important. Cornsilk seemed to know what she was thinking. “Don’t-!” she started. But it was too late. Apple Bloom was already moving. One bad barn fire could mean life or death for a farmer, so Apple Bloom had been taught what to do. She tore off her bandanna, dunked it into the rain barrel, draped it over her muzzle, and started running towards the fire. Ignoring the cries of surprise from the scarecrows, she burst in through the door. She looked around. She didn’t see the filly right away, but she wasn’t worried by that. Her help with that firefighting cutie mark had taught her that foals tend to hide if they can’t run, and the fire had already spread. Everything here was hoof-crafted and made of wood. It was really nice, actually, and it was with some regret that Apple Bloom kicked the couch to make sure she wasn’t hiding behind it. She checked in the closet (full of hats), under the table (empty), and in the pantry (surprisingly and yet not, it was full of corn). Her search came up fruitless, so her next guess would be the foal’s room. She headed up the stairs, keenly aware that if something happened to them behind her, she could be trapped up there. She shoulder-checked the door open and found what must have been a filly’s room, with pony dolls made out of cornhusks sitting on hewn shelves and curtains made of dry leaves and vines, already burning. This must have been it. She jumped as she heard loud popping from downstairs. The fire must have gotten to the pantry. She pushed away the intrusive thought about how much popcorn would be going to waste and continued searching. There was nothing under the bed, so she darted over and tore open the closet. There! The gleam from the flames reflecting in the button eyes from a little scarecrow pressed back against the wall. It suddenly occurred to Apple Bloom how horrifying this must look, mysterious popping sounds heralding a living pony wreathed in fire as if coming for her soul. Well, she’d just have to apologize later. Apple Bloom grabbed her around the waist and pulled her out. She barely weighed anything, though she was struggling and kicking frantically. “Don’t worry, we’re getting out-” A burning beam fell down almost three paces in front of her, crashing through the floor and sending embers flying. Apple Bloom yelped and her eyes widened. The stairway was blocked. Well, there was always one other option. “Earth pony strength, don’t fail me now,” Apple Bloom murmured, and she tucked the little scarecrow behind herself and charged forward. She exploded out through the wall, sending wood splinters flying. And for the second time tonight, she fell from someplace high, hit the ground, and rolled, losing her hat in the process. When she came to a stop, the little scarecrow quickly unfolded herself and ran to her mother, who happily grabbed her in a tight, relieved hug. Apple Bloom straightened up and pulled off the bandana. She glanced behind her at the fire, realizing that they’d (rightfully) written this off as a total loss, and then turned back around, looking at the scarecrows surrounding her. She’d been on this end of mobs before, but they had been ponies and not living scarecrows. The wind whipping around with an eerie wailing really didn’t help, either. “Hey, y’all,” she started hesitantly. While her actions were clearly heroic, the crowd still murmured, scuffing their burlap hooves against the ground, burlap eyebrows furrowed. They didn’t look like they trusted her. But then another scarecrow made her way to the front. Her burlap looked more worn and frayed, with patches of various colors dotting her body. Her eye buttons were made of what looked like crystal pieces. Her battered hat was faded, but had formerly been a brilliant blue, and the band still glittered faintly in the light of the flames. “It’s been many moons since I’ve seen a living pony,” she said, her voice low and scratchy. “This is my first time meeting a scarecrow,” Apple Bloom said with a smile. She quickly grabbed onto her hat as the wind picked up. “How did you find us?” Apple Bloom smiled disarmingly, doing her best to maintain eye contact. “Just a crazy random happenstance,” she tried. But Apple Bloom’s grown-up voice was no match for the all-knowing granny eyes. “I’m not sure I believe that,” she replied, though a little smile played at her lips. She looked over her shoulder. “I would believe a curious young scarecrow going too close to the edge of the forest, though,” she added. Apple Bloom did her very best to not look at Cornsilk. She didn’t want to inadvertently incriminate her. But she needn’t have worried. Her little friend must have had quite the reputation already, because every scarecrow there turned to look at her. She made an attempt to smile disarmingly, but it was shaky and nervous, and it didn’t help that she took an instinctive step back. “Me?” she tried innocently. Apple Bloom shook her head. She was such a bad liar! “Please don’t be mad at Cornsilk,” she said, trying to head off anything. “She tried to keep everything a secret, really. I’m just really bad at taking ‘no’ for an answer.” She paused. “That came out wrong,” she said awkwardly. “I mean, I didn’t want to leave her all by her lonesome when we were in the middle of nowhere where if something were to happen, nopony could hear her scream and… that’s not better,” she realized. Thankfully, Crystal Eyes looked more amused than anything else. She looked like she was going to respond, and then another crash of thunder split the night. More than a few scarecrows cried out as a heavy rain started falling. “Well, unless living ponies got a lot more waterproof since I’ve been gone, you’re not going anywhere in this storm,” she said wryly. “Might as well join us to wait it out.”
Chapter 4Like Cornsilk had said, all the scarecrows quickly made their way to a cave to wait out the storm. A few pulled out some corn or other vegetables they’d brought with them, and this was soon shared among their friends. Apple Bloom glanced around. It was at least sheltered from the wind. It was a little chilly, but she had the distinct impression that a suggestion of a fire would be a Very Bad Move, so she found a comfortable spot on a log and tried to huddle inside her costume to stay warm. The other scarecrows were still hesitant, and gave her a wide berth. All but one, that is. Crystal Eyes climbed onto the rock across from her. She leaned forward, one hoof raised. “May I?” she asked. Apple Bloom nodded. Crystal Eyes gently brushed a hoof against her cheek, then up against her mane. Apple Bloom wasn’t sure what she was feeling for (or even if she could feel with a hoof made of burlap), but it seemed like she needed this. “You’re quite the pretty pony,” she finally said. “You don’t look so bad yourself,” Apple Bloom said, mostly because she wasn’t sure how to respond. Crystal Eyes scoffed. “I’m old and patchy, and we both know it,” she said dismissively. “I’m surprised I’m still alive.” “I’m surprised you’re even alive at all. Begging your pardon,” Apple Bloom added quickly, realizing just how rude that might have sounded. Crystal Eyes smiled, amused. Somehow, her button eyes seemed to twinkle. “Well, now, that’s quite the story.” A movement behind her made her jump, but she recognized the scarecrow there. Seemingly summoned by the promise of a story, Cornsilk climbed onto the log and snuggled close, and Apple Bloom wrapped a foreleg around her. Scarecrows must have really liked cuddling, which was fairly welcome right now. Crystal Eyes took a steadying breath. “Once upon a time, far up in the north where it always snows, there was an old berry farmer. Though he grew the sweetest berries, this farmer had no family, and very few friends. All he had was the scarecrow he’d made to help guard his fields from the birds.” Apple Bloom glanced around and realized that a couple other scarecrows had approached, drawn in by the story. They sat close, resting against each other, though Apple Bloom was still given a bit of a berth. “As a pony is wont to do, he became lonely, and began to speak to his scarecrow like she was a real pony. Day after day, he poured out his heart to her, telling her his thoughts, fears, dreams. “And then one day, he’d given enough love to her that she came to life.” “Just like that?” Apple Bloom asked. Crystal Eyes nodded. “Just like that. And she loved him right back, because love shared is love returned. Love never runs out, you know. Once it’s shared with another pony, there’s always more.” “Oh, yeah, like the changelings learned to share love,” Apple Bloom said. Crystal Eyes paused, and the burlap over her eyes furrowed, somehow looking just like eyebrows. “The what?” Right. They wouldn’t have known that story. Apple Bloom waved her down. “Never mind. Keep going.” She smiled expectantly, fully aware that it was just a bit too wide. Thankfully, Crystal Eyes didn’t read too much into this, and continued. “She worked in the fields as his partner, his equal. She ate with him, and she would share his bed in the night. And as time went on, their love only grew stronger.” “It’s the button eyes,” another scarecrow suggested. “We’re adorable.” The scarecrow he was laying on batted his hat down playfully. “And then one dark day, the city was overtaken by an evil king.” “Oh, I know this part,” Apple Bloom said, her ears pricking. Crystal Eyes squinted. “You do?” “Yeah. He was a wicked one. Enslaved the ponies with dark magic and mind-control helmets and made them march on Equestria. The two princesses came and fought him, but he cast a crazy curse, and the empire disappeared.” “That… is what happened next,” Crystal agreed. She squinted harder. Who was this mysterious living pony who knew this ancient story she couldn’t possibly have known? “I’ll tell you some of my stories if you finish yours,” Apple Bloom promised. Crystal Eyes gave her a narrow look and a little nod, as if saying ‘I’ll hold you to that’, and then continued. “She waited for years, faithfully tending the little crop in hopes for his return, but she could not tend it alone. Eventually, her hopes faded, she accepted that he was not coming back, and she set out on her own. “She crossed the snowy desert, wandering further south, until the snow began to melt, and the grass began to return under her hooves. Soon, she found another farm, with farming ponies. She was so relieved to find a new place. “But where she expected love, she found fear. They could not comprehend a living scarecrow. Convinced she was a monster, a terror, or an omen of bad harvests to come, every pony that saw her chased her away with pitchforks and fire.” Apple Bloom winced, and most of the scarecrows around her did, too. “She continued wandering, and though she came across the occasional scarecrow, none were alive like she was. She was all alone. “She wandered across the land, eating corn as she found it, chasing crows as she found them, occasionally hiding as a lifeless scarecrow in a field to avoid the fear of the living ponies. “Eventually, she took refuge in a sprawling forest that the living ponies already feared. She became a legend, just a story meant to frighten foals into staying close to home. “And then one fateful morning, while hiding in the forest, she saw a young family traveling, and she got an idea. With what she could find or take from the surrounding farms, she patterned a small filly out of burlap, and stuffed her with hay. She began carrying her around everywhere she went, speaking to her, caring for her. She laid her down for naps, pretended to feed her. “It took almost three whole seasons. But then she, too, came to life.” Apple Bloom let out a cheer, and then quickly covered her mouth, not wanting to interrupt the story. The other scarecrows seemed amused by this. If anything, this little outburst was almost endearing, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d think some of the other scarecrows were getting a little more comfortable, maybe even getting closer to her. “And from two scarecrows, a family was born; and from there, a village, and now, everyone you see here. We’re creatures of love, sustained not just by the food we grow, but by the love we share. As long as there is love, there will be scarecrows.” “That’s so sweet!” Apple Bloom said, grabbing Cornsilk and nuzzling her tightly. Cornsilk giggled. “See?” she said. “All love, no scares. Unless you’re a crow,” she corrected herself. “Hate crows,” a couple other voices chimed in. “And now I think you owe us a story, miss living pony,” Crystal Eyes said pointedly. Apple Bloom gently set Cornsilk down and stood. She turned to face the gathered scarecrows, looking back at her with their large button eyes. She inhaled slowly to steady herself. Crystal Eyes wouldn’t have known this part, and she knew this revelation would rock her world. “So, what she said about the land way up north where it snows all the time? Well, us living ponies, we have a story like that, except we call that place the Crystal Empire.” As Apple Bloom had expected, Crystal Eyes’ ears pricked. She hadn’t used that name in her retelling, but she clearly recognized it. “And we tell it a little bit differently…”
One Year Later...Pinkie Pie chortled with glee as she sorted through her candy haul. “Chocolates and caramels and butterscotch toffees,” she sang. “Muffins and cupcakes, both eaten real sloppy,” Pumpkin joined in. “Cookies and brownies and everything sweet,” Pound added. “These are a few of my favorite treats!” they finished in unison before all falling apart laughing. Apple Bloom cracked a smile. She’d only stopped by Sugarcube Corner for some caramel corn and popcorn balls, but now she was getting candy and a show. “Good haul tonight?” “You know it!” Pinkie crowed. “After all, you’re…” “Never too old for candy!” they finished in unison, and then they all shared another laugh and a high hoof. “Well, if you decide you need a break, we’re doing the haunted corn maze again this year,” Apple Bloom offered. “Loads of fun and frights!” “Ooh! I’ll have to add that to the list.” Pinkie reached into Pumpkin’s mane and pulled one out, then retrieved a pencil from behind her ear and did just that. Apple Bloom smiled knowingly. Classic Pinkie. “So, this is the infamous haunted corn maze?” Gallus asked, giving it a good once-over. “Oh, yeah,” Sandbar said. “This is classic Ponyville Nightmare Night. You guys are in for a treat.” “If you say so,” Gallus said, unconvinced. “Doesn’t look too scary.” “Yeah,” Smolder agreed. “Who’s afraid of corn?” “It’s not the corn you need to fear,” an eerie voice interjected suddenly from behind, making them jump. Apple Bloom, with blood and zombie makeup caked on her face, crawled up from a hidden passage. “It’s the creatures inside, horrifying beings given life from your nightmares! Beware, beware!” Her performance was met with less than rave reviews. More like raised eyebrows. But Apple Bloom didn’t seem to mind. “Three may enter at a time,” she said, still using her spooky voice, “but stay close! Not all three of you may leave!” Gallus, Smolder, and Ocellus happened to be first in the group, and they approached the line. Before they crossed, Apple Bloom leaned in. “Oh, and, uh, please don’t touch the decorations,” she advised in her normal voice, holding the back of her hoof over her mouth. “They don’t like that.” Gallus blinked. “You got it,” he said patronizingly, clearly convinced she was just a little too into character tonight. They made their way through the corn. “There sure are a lot of scarecrows here,” Ocellus commented nervously. “It’s a corn field,” Gallus said dismissively. “There’s gonna be- yipe!” For he had accidentally stepped on a wire and activated the first trap: a spring-loaded wooden plank with a scary pumpkin drawn on it. Gallus scoffed. “Meh,” he said, downplaying his previous reaction. Ocellus huffed. She’d been scared. “Look, all I’m saying is, if you want to scare a griffon, you’ll have to try a little harder.” “Empty wallets,” Smolder suggested in her best eerie!Apple Bloom impression. “No more biiiiits!” Gallus did flinch at that, and then glared at his dragon friend. With a cocky little smile, Smolder took the lead. As they continued, the jumpscares increased, and the atmosphere darkened. Creepy vines, eerie lights, cobwebs, and the occasional flickering lamp. The decorations became more complex, but also slightly familiar. The horrifying vampire in garish clothing and doused in fake blood became a little less terrifying when Professor Rarity’s eyes caught the light. A terrifying mummy became a little more silly when it became apparent she was still wearing an anachronistic hat, and a plant monster who seemed a little too interested in how changeling biology worked turned out to be Fluttershy’s friend. And then it grew silent. Expecting a scare and then not getting a scare plays tricks on the mind. Was somepony watching them? What about that noise, was that the rushing of the wind, or ponies rushing through the corn behind them? Did somepony run across the path behind them? All they could see was the occasional scarecrow. “Alright,” Smolder said hesitantly. “Maybe it’s not so bad.” Ocellus squeaked indignantly. After what felt like an eternity, the end finally came into view. “Yeah, that was pretty good,” Gallus conceded, but clearly relieved. “Silverstream is going to scream her head off.” And then he bumped into a scarecrow decoration that seemed to have been left right in the way, knocking it over. It rolled across the ground, its limbs splaying and wrapping around itself and its body twisting in ways no pony’s could, and its hat rolled dolefully away. “You touched a decoration,” Ocellus hissed. “Nice going, dude,” Smolder teased. “Hey, griffons hunt in the day,” Gallus defended himself. “Our night vision stinks.” “Uh, guys?” Ocellus said shakily. “So do dragons,” Smolder retorted, “and you don’t see me-” “Guys,” Ocellus repeated, more urgently this time. “Chill, it was an accident. Forgiveness is magic, right?” “Guys!” “What?” Ocellus pointed at the scarecrow. The scarecrow’s body had unfolded itself and pushed itself up. It began shuffling forward, looking down, head scanning, as if looking for something. They looked around, but there was no visible aura or sound of magic. What was animating it? Wires? Finding what she was looking for, the scarecrow reached down, picked up her hat, gently dusted it off, and then put it back on, adjusting it to her liking. Then, she turned back to the group. “Please don’t touch the decorations,” she said softly as she took a step forward, her stitched mouth moving with her words. “We don’t like that.” All semblance of bravado evaporated. Gallus screamed and turned to run, only to have Smolder pull him back to use as a springboard to leap over him in a mad dash to the exit. Ocellus quickly followed. Apple Bloom poked her head in and gave her a knowing smirk. “Ok,” Cornsilk conceded with a little smile, adjusting her hat, “maybe it’s a little fun to be scary.” “All aboard! Crystal Empire express departing momentarily.” Anypony who was anypony was wearing a costume tonight. Even the train had been decorated with Nightmare Night livery. So nopony gave the old mare dressed as a patchy old scarecrow in the back corner of the car a second look. When the train arrived at the station after what felt like an eternity, she stepped off the train and looked around. It was strange. Strange, and yet so familiar. The architecture hadn’t changed much. Multi-faceted crystal houses in brilliant colors still lined the center street on the way to the Crystal Heart. Though they may have been wearing costumes, the shimmering of their crystal bodies was unmistakable, unlike the other, dull living ponies she’d seen (and run from). It quite literally felt like she was coming home. She continued walking, reminiscing about some of the streets she was on. That was where the Crystal Farmer’s Market would be. This was where the Crystal Faire would be, with the tiny ewes with big appetites. She paused as she saw something she didn’t recognize: a statue of what looked like a giant lizard holding a heart. That was odd. She tilted her head, trying to make sense of this. And then she heard an old stallion’s voice that made her freeze. “Crystal Eyes?”
