With a torch in-hoof, Applejack stood at the edge of her beloved orchard. The moon cast a pale light over the rows of apple trees, their withered leaves rustling in the night breeze. The mysterious blight had spread relentlessly. Eventually, the mere sunlight would set the whole orchard aflame if she left the increasingly flammable leaves undisturbed. But bucking them off and collecting them would spread the spores to the entire orchard. Burning them early at their current spot would spread the sparks.

She could feel the weight of her ancestors’ legacy pressing down on her shoulders. Instead of protecting the orchard she had been entrusted with, she would harm it. The healthy trees would either get infected by the blight or scorched. And if she did nothing… both.

As if tossing a coin, she made her decision.

“I’m sorry!” she cried out as she approached the first tree.

Author's Note

This story participated in the 2024.09 "Zugzwang" writing competition

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