Dreamwalker's Tale

The next morning came and I still had no plan. I tried to fight any oncoming panic with the thought that I would not need a plan, because I had something better! An idea. I just had to lie to myself about its quality, because deep down, I already knew that it was a bad, bad, baaad idea.

But I was committed.

As soon as the once again stunningly beautiful night sky brightened, I made my way out of the castle. Applejack, much like the rest of her family, usually started their day with the roosters’ first call. A dreadful tradition for a night owl like me, but I supposed it made sense for a family of hard working farmers.

I did not spare any time or mind for breakfast either. I felt more like puking, honestly. Because of nerves. And Twilight would not be up for several hours anyway. Even Spike would still be fast asleep for quite a while. Oh. I stopped in the middle of a street when I realized that I was about to leave him hanging. I had promised to at least ask Twilight if I could help her sort the library in his place. But then I had forgotten all about that and then this had come up and now I was on my way to… well, probably a good beating.

Maybe a sapphire muffin was enough to make up for that? Or ten?

Bought with which bits again…?

Right. Riiight.

Maybe that plan needed some more thought. I shook my head and walked on. One step at a time, I was no Twilight.

My mood brightened considerably when I saw Sunny. She waved at me and smiled, so I made a beeline for her. I sadly did not have much time to spare, but I wanted to at least keep her in the loop. “Heeey,” I greeted her and went straight for a hug. “I’m awfully sorry, but I’m kind of busy today and don’t have much time. I’m on an important mission to rescue a relationship whose participants both have already given up on it and I’m the poor sod that needs to somehow break through their thick, stubborn skulls, so wish me luck and I hope I’ll see you soon again, hopefully with a little more time then! Oh and you look gorgeous!” I pressed a chaste little kiss to her cheek and cantered off to make up for lost time, leaving her standing there flabbergasted.

I reached the extensive apple orchard a short time later. Now, my only task was to find Applejack. In square miles upon square miles of apple trees. Cakewalk.

It quickly turned out that it was quite easy, much to my honest surprise. Maybe I should have trusted my knowledge of Applejack that had previously told me that this would still count towards the ‘easy part’ of my plan.

Sleeping through a single night — already presuming that she had slept, which was not a given — would do little for Applejack. She was great at carrying. Carrying grudges. Carrying emotional ballast. Carrying bushels of apples. Carrying Big Mac, if necessary. Carrying the weight of the world.

Given how emotionally charged she must have been to break down like that yesterday, she surely would not stand in the kitchen baking pie. Because those were made with care and love, not frustration and tears. A recipe Discord would approve, I was certain. In the same vein, she would not risk alienating customers by tending to the market stand and yelling at everypony who mentioned Rainbow. No, of course not. There was only one thing she could be doing right now. And my ears honed in on her position as I trotted past rows and rows of trees, following the violent thud of her back hooves connecting with sturdy tree trunks. She was trying to get rid of excess energy, trying to get that grief and frustration and anger and sadness out of her system via the only way she knew worked with a modicum of reliability: By exhausting herself.

There was a crux though. She had been doing this for years. And I meant the apple bucking, not the very poor coping mechanism. Although. That too, probably. She was trained. She had endurance. And strength. Earth pony strength and earth pony endurance, on top of that. If she wanted to keep her trees alive and healthy, she needed to restrain herself at least a little bit. This meant that it took so much longer for her to actually get exhausted. And it meant that it did not feel quite as satisfying as just bucking something to pieces. If she were to keep this up throughout the next couple of days, I was sure she would tire out eventually. And then probably become a friendship crisis once more, as she tried to keep this up beyond any reasonable point. Because she would then freak out and try to keep herself this calm and unfeeling.

It was a mess, really. It always was with these stubborn types. And I had to look forward to not only doing this once, oh no, I had to do it twice.

Yesterday had actually been really nice, by comparison.

“Applejack?” I addressed her. Here we go.

She turned to face me and I could not help but appreciate her appearance. Contrary to Pinkie Pie, one could prod and probe her basically anywhere without finding any fat whatsoever. Her well-toned body was impressive and I appreciated it for the sign of dedication that it was. And her face was covered by cute freckles. Her work ethics were unmatched. Still, I had to focus on the task ahead and I suspected that the first step would involve me desperately trying to get her to accept help. Because that was a reappearing issue with her.

Her brow narrowed as her eyes took on a wary tinge. She was already drilling into me. “Leave.” Before I could even start to object, she added, “I don’t know what business brings you to the farm. Talk to Big Macintosh at the market or return in a couple of days. But leave me alone, please.” Her ‘please’ sounded terse. It cost her dearly to even use such a word in her current state.

“I’m here to help,” I tried. I had to get through to her first. I had to get her to listen. Somehow.

“If you’re here to help with the harvest — we ain’t hirin' right now. We’re doin' fine.” She knew this was not about employment. I could see it in her eyes. But she wanted to get rid of me, and fast. There was a lot one could say about Applejack. Some ponies thought she was a little simple-minded, mistaking her straightforwardness. Her endearing southern drawl, her affinity — and preference — for physical labor, her massive, tight-knit family, her distaste for the ‘upper class’ and their mannerisms. Especially outsiders tended to underestimate her, to think of her as some kind of living, breathing hillbilly cliché.

Most of those ponies did not know her though. As far as I knew, none in Ponyville would be stupid enough to even think that Applejack wasn’t smart as heck. She was no Twilight, sure, but then again — few ponies could measure up to her. Applejack just used her smarts in a more subtle way. And her intelligence was not so much based on knowledge gleaned from books and more grounded in experience. Her family was actually part of her strength in that regard. She did not just learn from her own mistakes. She learned from those generations of Apples that came before her. She learned from her peers in Appleloosa and wherever else they settled. She learned from Big Mac, Granny and even Apple Bloom. She even learned from the Oranges, her more distant relatives in Manehattan. She had a massive pool of wisdom to draw from, honed and cultivated by generations prior.

And she had no love for fancy talk. She considered it a waste of her time. So I tried to use a language she was familiar with. One she spoke frequently, because it suited her needs just fine: One of blunt and direct honesty. “I can help you with Rainbow.” Her brows sank lower still, drawing together and almost forming a line. Her eyes became hard as stone. Just a glimpse of surprise, followed by suspicion and determination and then… something else.

I did not see it coming. For a pony of her size and weight, she was surprisingly fast. And I meant no offense with that, but earth ponies tended to be larger and heavier already, and she was a hardworking farm mare to boot. A quick jab against my chest made me feel like my lungs had just collapsed. I wheezed and reeled back. Standing on my rear legs gave her the perfect opportunity to get up close and personal. She pushed me backwards until my back hit a tree trunk. I was pinned in a rather uncomfortable position, with her staring me down in apparent anger.

“I remember you know,” she almost spat. “You’ve been in Twilight's castle yesterday, snoopin' around. I’m tellin' you only once: This is none of your business. Stay. Out.”

With her subconsciously putting more and more pressure on my throat, it became harder to breathe. She must have noticed the red tinge, because she gave me free as quickly as she had pinned me and stepped back a short distance. I saw regret in her eyes for a brief moment, but then she shook her head. It was not like her. Applejack was grounded. Centered. She usually was not this prone to outbursts. I rubbed my throat and chest for a moment and I sighed internally. I had not expected this to be easy.

“If you put your mind to it, you can tell if somepony lies to your face,” I half-asked.

She looked away. “Maybe,” she muttered. She muttered. Goodness gracious, something really was off with her.

“Alright,” I started again. “I know you. There was a time when you called me a friend. Part of your family, even. I’d like to be your friend once more, if you’ll have me. But that’s not what I’m here for today. I want to help you.”

She did not look at me. That was a problem, as far as I remembered. Because she needed to see somepony’s expression to tell. However, it appeared that she had used that time to think to herself. And once she raised her head again, her glare had become accusatory. “How would you even know?” she asked. And her eyes inevitably widened a second later. “Twilight,” she almost hissed with a bitter undertone. “She promised!” she cursed quietly.

“No she didn’t,” I immediately threw in. She had half a mind to punch me unconscious, I could see that. Lucky for me, she restrained herself. But I just could not let her lay down all the blame to Twilight's hooves. As much as I wanted to help her, I had to defend my other friend as well. “She didn’t promise you anything,” I insisted. “After the whole crisis with Spike's crush on Rarity, she became a lot more careful with what she promised. And she knows she’s bad at keeping secrets, especially if her friends are hurt. You know that as well. You are just awful at keeping secrets in general. She would have promised, of course. She would have if you had asked. But you knew what it could do to her. And you wouldn’t put that weight on her shoulders again.”

I was obviously operating on a lot of assumptions. I hoped that most of them were true or at least true enough and judging by how she looked, I was doing okay. She still appeared to be a very angry earth pony, which was intimidating. But she had herself under control for now.

“How?” she asked after a while. I could see her mind racing. Weighting opportunities and potential traps against each other. She tried to find a silver lining in this encounter. To find a way to both respect her own nature and include her mistrust of me in her decision making. But there was this tiny spark of hope that I might actually be helpful at the same time.

I saw an opening and had every intention of using it. “If it’s any consolation, Twilight didn’t go into detail. What she told me I could’ve figured out several other ways, and I would have. Rainbow dumped you and you don’t even really know why. She only did after you tried to force some answers out of her, but as usual, that featherbrain doesn’t exactly react well to external pressure.”

“Don’t,” she started to yell and her mouth snapped shut. She then reigned herself in and continued in a halfway decent volume. “Don’t call her that.” She still loves and defends her. Good.

“I can’t guarantee success. But I can try to give you an opportunity to get the answer you are searching for. I can help you figure out why she dumped you.”

That fight was still ongoing. Even with my offer now plain on the table, she struggled against herself. She wanted this answer. Badly. But to her, this felt like the wrong way to get it. Like an intrusion into Rainbow's privacy. And maybe it was. Dreams were personal, very much so. Witnessing those was an almost intimate experience. But this was how I operated. All I knew. All I could do. And I was not about to give up.

Applejack tried to, though. She tried very hard right now. “No,” she answered and tried to put as much determination into her voice as she could muster. Probably because she still tried to convince herself as much as me. “Our friendship is stronger than this. It’ll take some time. She’ll get over it, and so will I. We’ll be able to talk about it somewhere down the line.”

I scoffed. And for a brief moment that was all she got from me for her efforts. She glared at me. “You know better, AJ,” I remarked.

“Don’t call me that!” she insisted. “My name is Applejack.”

Right. Fair enough. I had to work for that name. It hurt... but it was fine. I could do that. “Right. Sorry. Anyway — I know Rainbow. Heck, you know Rainbow even better. There’s something of a… let’s call it a ‘dubious quality’ you two share. Depending on your mood, it’s stronger than your sense of truth and stronger than her sense of loyalty. You both are stubborn. She won’t talk about this. Sheesh, you won’t even ask about this! Maybe in a few years, sure. But by that point, quite a few things will have changed, no? Are you really willing to let her go this easily?” She was still shaking her head. A little bit too violent to be just a simple denial. She was trying to get rid of my words, poisonous as they must have sounded to her now. I was the snake and I was tempting her to sin.

I realized that I was about to lose her. She would just dig deeper into her trenches, pile up more work, close those walls around her further. She would canter over to the farmhouse. And leave me standing here. She would avoid me at all costs, at least for some time.

I sighed. I had tried to avoid doing this. She was wounded. I wanted to help her, not hurt her. But I had to get through to her first. So, I readied my poisonous little fangs and bit where it would hurt the most. “You are going to lose her.” It was a simple sentence. Spoken without malice or threat, without pleading or mercy. It was a statement. And it was that delivery that truly hurt her. They had been friends for years. They had endured so much. Together. Always together. And I was ruthlessly turning those doubts she already harbored against her. Her doubts, and more importantly... her fears.

I saw something in her break. It hurt seeing it. She looked up at me and for just a moment, there was a silent plea in there. To take back what I had said. “You’re a cruel pony,” she whispered. I can be, a part of me agreed. Her body was firm and steady, but her voice trembled. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I tried to speak and failed. I really hoped she was wrong.

I moved forward instead. One step. Two. Three. She did not back away. And she did not object either when I pulled her into an embrace. Slowly. Cautiously. After all, she still was a very angry and very strong earth pony. “I know you,” I whispered. “And once upon a time, you called me your friend. I want to help you, Applejack. You're hurt. And I hate to see you hurt. Please… please let me help you.”

She stood there in silence, unmoving for what felt like hours. Her eyes were filled with tears when I pulled back, but by sheer force of will, she did not let them spill. “How?” she asked. Her voice was fragile. Uncertain.

“By breaking and entering, if you want to be technical about it,” I answered. It was a horrible explanation, so I tried again. “A heist of sorts.” No, that still sounded wrong. This really was not the time for light joking. “I can dreamwalk. I have a spell that can bring us into Rainbow's dream. I’m pretty sure we can find your answer there.”

“She won’t tell me,” Applejack countered. “I’ve tried.”

“She won’t have much of a choice,” I replied. “In her sleep, her subconsciousness generates her dreams. Usually based on whatever occupies her waking thoughts the most. Her subconsciousness is a lot less experienced in defending information.”

Of course, my explanation only increased her discomfort with the idea. She shook her head again. She objected to my proposal. “This is underhooved. It’s wrong.”

“I won’t deny that,” I admitted much to her surprise. “But she left us little else to do. Think back about all the drama you two had. Or better yet, about all the drama you six, as friends, had. Assuming things that turn out wrong. Keeping secrets that spoil and rot. How many times did any of you have to snoop around someone else’s private affairs to finally fix another issue? This isn’t any different just because it involves magic. We could just as easily ask Twilight for that cloud-walking spell and ask her to teleport us up to Rainbow's house. We could snoop around each and every room. It wouldn’t be nice, sure. But it might help. I just think that my way has a higher chance of success. Because whatever led to this might not be anything we can find in her home.”

Maybe I was twisting things a little bit too much. But I was talking to the Element of Honesty. And while one had to be careful with somepony like Fluttershy what she agreed to, Applejack was different. She had no qualms about saying ‘no’ and sticking to it. If she truly wanted that.

But she did not. And I allowed myself a tiny sliver of relief.

“Why?” was her next question.

I chuckled quietly. I felt like a broken record player at this point. “I already told you,” I said.

“Tell me again,” she just demanded. And this time, she watched me.

I sighed and nodded. “Fine. I’m warning you, though — it’s a weird story.” She did not care. So I told the story once more. Of my arrival at the edge of the forest, how Twilight took me in, of my memories of her and my other friends. She listened... and she watched me the entire time throughout my retelling. Studied the shifts and changes in my expression and body language. Searching for lies and half-truths.

She found none.

“It’s these changing details that keep throwing me off,” I concluded. “Like… I don’t remember Sunny being in Ponyville at all. I don’t remember coming here and you two being an item already. This Twilight, although lovely and adorable, isn’t my Twilight. And you… aren’t part of my family yet.”

She looked down at her own hooves, finally breaking away from her inspection. We had been sitting under Tiberius, one of her younger apple trees. He could use the company, she had said. I looked up at the branches. Splotches of blue sky were visible here and there. Some trees around us still sported delicious looking apples, others were harvested already. It was midday. We had really been at this for hours already. It took some time to tell the story and explain all the inevitable weirdness, of course. Thinking back though… Applejack had not asked all that much.

“You don’t know me,” she concluded for herself.

“I haven’t told a single lie and—“ I started, but she interrupted quite fast by holding up a hoof to signal me to stop. Which I did, shutting my mouth.

“I know. It’s one heck of a story, I’ll give you that. But I know you didn’t lie. Thing is though… accordin' to your own story, you knew a Applejack. Several Applejacks. I might be similar to them. Name and color and all. But they ain’t me. And I ain’t them.”

In a strange way, it felt like she was lecturing me. And she expected an answer. So I nodded. “Okay.”

“I have decided to accept your help,” she continued. “Still feels icky, but I’m gonna go through with it anyway. I must know. I need to know, or I won’t be getting any peace of mind anytime soon. No matter what this brings about though… I’d love to have another friend. Maybe we can throw some horseshoes sometime. ‘Being part of the family’ takes time though. And effort. We’ll have to see about that.”

I was elated. I surprised myself with a sob and nodded vigorously. A grin split my face and for a short moment, I just hugged her with all my might. “Thank you,” I replied. “I can wait. I’ll try. I’ll just… yeah. Thank you.”

You're part of the family, the voice of a Applejack echoed in my head. It felt like I was about to reclaim yet another piece.

She chuckled. “You do remind me of Twilight a little. And Fluttershy, actually.” She fell silent for a while. “So how are we gonna do this?”

I felt my smile grow a little lopsided and awkward as she looked at me. “Yeah, so, about that…” Her eyebrow rose questioningly. “We need to sleep. In the same bed, because I need to be close by to cast the spell and touch my charged horn to your head. And we should remain undisturbed throughout the entire time, because otherwise, the dream will collapse. Now, I know how it sounds and I can promise you that I don’t—“

“It’s alright.”

“Huh?” Her immediate acceptance had somehow blindsided me.

“Listen. You seem to be an okay fella. You care and you mean good. Doing something stupid wouldn’t help you. And if you did, I would punch you back to yesteryear.” I laughed. I just… yeah, I just laughed. She was so nonchalant about this and I loved her for it. I had almost forgotten how easy things could be with her. She was a grown up pony, she knew who she was and what she wanted in life and it was hard to unbalance her. A steady rock to cling to.

“Right. So what now?” I dared to ask.

She stood up, looked around and nodded with a renewed look of determination in her eyes. “Now I work. You’re welcome to stay over tonight, so we can do your magic, but there's still daylight and a lot of apple trees that need a good buckin'.”

“I can help!” I offered. I honestly saw little point in going back now and even if I could have helped Spike with sorting the library, I felt like maybe it was better to keep her some company. Just so she could not sink down into that hole again where I had found her.

She laughed, obviously. “Sorry, sugarcube, but you’re not exactly the kinda guy we usually hire for harvest help.” Brutally honest. Ouch.

I wasn’t about to give up though. I walked over to one of those unbucked trees with determination, placed the bushels down with telekinesis and turned around. She just stood several feet away and watched with an amused smile on her lips. I looked over my shoulder and tried to gauge height, distance and required force. And then flung my hooves back and… landed on my belly. Because I had completely misjudged. “Ow.” I looked over to Applejack, who was just laughing her ass off and — in a very smug demonstration — used a single hoof to buck a trunk nearby and all the apples fell exactly into the bushels she had placed.

“Stupid sexy earth pony magic,” I muttered.

“What was that?” she asked with a wide grin.

I just shrugged. “I was cursing Pinkie Pie,” I half-lied. I stood back up again and tried again. This time my hoof connected to the trunk, but just did nothing. A third attempt almost made me trip again as my hoof just slid off the bark somehow. Fourth try, nothing. Fifth try, nothing. Sixth try — a single apple fell. On my head. I got lucky it did not just stuck to my horn or something equally comical. I sat down and just glared at the tree. Maybe violent thoughts would make it cooperate.

I heard AJ snicker while she walked around and effortlessly harvested tree after tree. Then it hit me. She harvested the trees via kicks. This made perfect sense for an earth pony using its magic. I just wasn’t one. My eyes crossed as I tried to look at my horn again. Unicorn. I got magic. Right.

Sitting down and closing my eyes, I tried to concentrate. Life was energy. Energy was magic. Life was magic. Of course, it was not quite that simple, but breaking it down like that helped me visualize. Twilight would have had a field day, explaining all the intricacies. What had she said after studying my magic? An exceptional affinity for telekinesis.

I opened my eyes again. Studied the tree in front of me. Its branches, its leaves, its apples. Big and red and ripe. I closed my eyes again and charged my horn and imagined plucking them by hoof, one by one. As I opened my eyes again, I had several dozen apples floating in the air. “Yes!” I yelled and celebrated my victory over the trees by prancing in place.

Applejack's chuckle floated over to me. She watched as I carefully put the apples into the bushels. “Took you long enough,” she remarked. “Twilight had that down almost immediately.”

“Yeah but that’s Twilight,” I whined. “Comparing me to her just isn’t fair!” After a moment, I shook my head. AJ would not deny me my victory! So, being the mature adult that I was, I stuck out my tongue. She chuckled again and I turned my attention to the next tree. And the next after that. It became easier and faster with every single one of them. After ten trees, I did not have to sit down and close my eyes each time, I could just walk over, stare intensely at the apples and then levitate them all off. What made apple harvesting so much harder than, say, levitating a dozen books off their shelves was the fact that the apples were still part of the tree. I tried to break a connection by force, taking something apart. The same way plucking a single hair from a mane was significantly harder than just lifting a single hair that was already lying around.

I was seriously spending my day harvesting apples. And I loved it. When Applejack finally came over and told me to stop, I had not noticed how low the sun hung on the eastern horizon. I had built up quite a sweat though. Not by physical exertion of course. Walking around, standing, that was not all that hard to do. But even though my telekinesis did not cost me all that much, doing it for hours on end was still exhausting.

“Sooo… dinner?” I squeaked as my stomach grumbled loudly.

Applejack chuckled again. “Not yet, sugarcube. We’re gonna use the last light to bring these here bushels and the cart into the barn. Won’t do leavin' them outside overnight.”

Right. With our last chore of the day done and the massive barn door closed, we walked over to the house. “That has actually been fun,” I mentioned.

“Glad to hear,” she smiled in return. “And I appreciate you sticking around. Helped me stay focused.”

“You’re welcome. Hm… I haven’t seen — or heard — Winona all day,” I wondered.

“She’s with Apple Bloom,” Applejack explained. “They are crusadin' again.”

Poor Ponyville. Stay strong! I chuckled.

I followed her through the door into the hallway once we arrived. A stairway led up to the upper story. The living room was on the left, no door barring entrance, and the kitchen was on the right. I followed her there and to my surprise, Applejack made dinner for two.

“Can I help?” I asked.

She smiled. “Yupp. Sit down.” I did and somehow expected her to hoof me stuff to do. Maybe something to cut or peel. I realized after a minute or two that I was just going to sit here until dinner was ready. Fine. At least she noticed my confusion about the small table arrangement and explained that part. “’Bloom’s with the other crusaders at the tree house. Granny is already asleep in her room and Big Mac is on a ‘secret date’. Big oaf won’t tell who he’s datin'.” It irked her a little not to know, probably because of her dislike of secrets in general. But she smiled anyway.

Applejack reheated some delicious potato soup from yesterday and we stuffed ourselves with a nice slice of apple pie for dessert. I had every intention to talk to her. About something. Anything really. But sitting down in this oddly familiar house was just so relaxing and I started to feel tired. I could see that she was not faring much better at least. She had probably gone one hundred and twenty percent before I had shown up this morning. I had to admit though — the silence was not unwelcome. We ate, we cleaned the dishes — yay, I was allowed to help! — and we made our way up the stairs. I was trying to be careful. This house was well-maintained, but still old. Every single floorboard was perfectly capable of groaning and squeaking and we both tried to make as little noise as possible so we would not wake up Granny Smith.

And I was growing frustrated with every step. I remembered these stairs. I remembered them squeaking. And every single time I tried to rely on my old knowledge, these stairs just changed. Maybe I should have found some comfort in the fact that even Applejack did not reach the top of the staircase without some noise, but I felt like I had done this thousands of times. I should have perfected this!

“You look funny when you dance around like that,” she whispered as she stood at the top.

“Shut up, I was trying to be considerate,” I grumbled in return. But could not help reply in kind as she smiled at me.

The bathroom was at the end of the hallway on the left side; her bedroom was on the right side. So we were not quite done tiptoeing around and trying to be silent. She was already lying in bed when I got back to her room. She laid with her back to me, but her neck craned so she could look in my direction. “It’s a little tight, but it’ll do,” she said. She would know, of course — it was not the first time she had somepony sleep in her bed with her.

“If you kick me in your sleep, I will be very cross,” I tried to lighten the mood. I could not even tell why I felt the need for that and it made me wonder for a moment longer. I then realized: I was somewhat apprehensive about this. But there was no point to it. It was way too late to turn back now. So I moved to the bed, climbed up and scooched close to her. I used my magic to draw the blanket over us, just so we would not get cold in the night.

And the bed smelled like her. But my nose, despite how bad my sense of smell usually was, picked up on Rainbow's scent as well. And if I noticed that, so did she.

“This feels weird,” she noted. At least she was honest about it. I would not have expected anything less from her.

“Does it help if I tell you that you aren’t my type?” I joked.

“Not really,” she answered, but after a moment she wriggled around and turned over. It was a mess and took us several moments to somehow make it work. Once we settled again, she looked me in the eyes with curiosity. “What’s your type then?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Really? And this will help the awkwardness?”

She thought for a moment and shrugged. “Maybe. Can’t tell yet. This is a first.”

“Hm. Fair enough,” I mused. “Okay, so… you’re great. Don’t get me wrong. You have a physique that’s almost intimidating. It radiates strength and power. Hugging you, being close to you, it makes me feel safe. And I would bet other ponies feel the same. You make for a great shield to hide behind. But I think that’s not a priority of mine. Speaking about appearance alone, I think I’d go with Twilight first and Pinkie second. I, uh… I mean ‘somepony like them’, of course.”

“Sure,” she just said without any hint of suspicion.

“Even if I were into you, I just couldn’t. Not only because of Rainbow, although that obviously plays a big part in that. It’s just… well, I told you before. You feel like family. I wasn’t snooping around yesterday. I was searching for Twilight and I heard you sob. Admittedly, I probably shouldn’t have let my curiosity run away like that. But when I saw you crying, I just… I wanted to help you so badly. Twilight noticed me and basically kicked me out. I waited in the kitchen until you were gone and asked her about it. She was exhausted and… I said a couple of things I shouldn’t have. I will try to make it up to her somehow. But… when family needs you… when someone you care about is hurt, you don’t just… leave. You at least try your darn best to help them. Right?”

She nodded. Applejack was lost in thought for a short while until a small, cheeky smile tugged at her lips. “So… Twilight or Pinkie, eh?”

I chuckled quietly. “Nah, not gonna happen. I already nudged Pinkie towards where she belongs. But goodness gracious I’d be lying if I said that I won’t miss snuggling up to her. It just feels great. Twilight is special though. Always has been, always will be. I know that her heart is already vying for somepony’s attention. And this time around, we just didn’t… click like we usually do. It feels weird but I think I’ll just… help her along.” The more I was talking about romance and mushy feelings and my plans, the more this felt like some campfire story, told by giggling young colts and fillies. It slowly drained the tenseness out of the air and I realized that this was what she had aimed for. Clever AJ.

“You seem very hung up about this whole romance thing,” she remarked.

It made me think about it for a moment. I was, wasn’t I? “Yeah, I guess. It’s important to me. I suppose I could be out there, trying to fix my life somehow. Getting my own roof over my head, getting my own bits, applying for a job, stuff like that. I could walk around town and make friends. Relearn Lyras quirks. Annoy the heck out of Bonbon. Go for a walk with Derpy. Break my own mind by talking to Zecora for too long.” So. The question then obviously was: Why was I not doing those things? A question, I was pretty sure AJ had purposefully led me to. “Maybe I don’t have my priorities straight yet,” I mused. “Those first days, we tried to research my condition, my magic, how I got here… but I would’ve just hunkered down forever if Twilight would have let me. It wasn’t even her decision to end this trot. Pinkie just did a Pinkie. And suddenly, things moved on their own. Once I had nudged her, I had to make sure that the connection worked out on the other end as well. Then I stumbled upon you and just… had to involve myself once more. And once this is over… I dunno. Right now, Twilight seems somewhat happy. Stable, at least. Could be better though. I can’t help thinking about that. I could see her being happier than she is right now. I could make her happier.”

I was working for the benefit of my friends. I wanted to see them happy. As happy as they could be. As happy as I could help make them be. And that took priority over my own… well, it was not exactly my well-being at stake here. With Twilight offering me a home, I had what I needed most for now. Having some bits would not hurt, but I had not had much use for them so far. Maybe my priorities would straighten out once that need arose?

“I can’t find any fault in putting my friends before me,” I stated the temporary result of my train of thought.

AJ clucked her tongue. “But there is,” she said. “Your friends shouldn’t be before you. They should be beside you.”

I thought about that. Caring for my own needs and wishes. Valuing my state of being and my own happiness at the same level that I did theirs. Suddenly my skin crawled. It felt itchy and uncomfortable and wrong. “I don’t think I can do that,” I admitted. Not yet, anyway.

She stared at me for a long old moment. She finally gave a single nod. “I see,” she said and put on a little smile. “I think I know a little better now who I’m dealin' with.” And with that, she started to turn over again. I was confused, but I did not dare to ask. So I just helped her until her back pressed against my chest. She relaxed and everything was fine. Maybe. I was still confused. “You can do your magic now,” she said after just a moment. I charged my horn and complied.

I was sure something had gone wrong for a brief moment. I expected us to arrive in the same bland, white nothingness that had welcomed me the previous two times. Instead I stood there gaping in wonder at the miracle in front of us. The entire dreamscape was a replica of the night sky. Maybe it was the night sky. I saw the lazy movement of nebulae, galaxies tiny and far away swirling like ballerinas, constellations forming and dissolving over the course of hours.

It was a truly magnificent spectacle. And most importantly, it felt right. It felt oh so right that I didn't even notice the happy little noise I made. This was the dreamscape! This was how it was meant to look!

It was beautiful beyond comparison.

Applejack stood by my side and recovered even slower than I did. She was simply stunned by what she was looking at as well. Her continued silence and my recovering mind gave me enough wiggle room to finally listen to a small, flash-induced voice in the back of my head: I remembered only one pony capable of designing this look for the dreamscape. And I still did not feel prepared enough to face Luna.

She knows we’re here, I realized. Maybe she was currently in a dream though. It would somewhat dampen her perception of things happening outside of it. Especially if she was focused on dealing with somepony’s nightmare. My memories reminded me that we could hide from her by that same logic. It would not be perfect, but I could maybe make it work.

I initially tried to see if I could spot Luna nearby. And my heart skipped another beat or two as I looked around and saw the dreams. All of them. Hundreds, thousands, more. They were back. They were there, where they belonged. All of them were there.

I still felt lost and confused and incomplete. But standing in the middle of this beauty, beholding all those dream bubbles floating about… I felt a little less so. Another piece recovered.

“It’s nice,” I heard Applejack say. I was almost offended at that. My head yanked around and I stared at her. With a very quiet chuckle, she belatedly added “Gosh-darn pretty. That better?” It did not fix the insult, but I let it slide. She was no word smith. The greatest poets in Equestrian history would have failed to capture this magnificent view. I allowed myself to marvel at it once more. “But we’re here for work. Sorta.”

I had to admit: I wanted to be offended. I wanted to tell her to just shut up and look. To take it all in. But I could not, because I knew she was right. Time was a finicky concept in this realm and we should not risk wasting ours lightly. I walked and after a second, she adapted my slow pace amidst the midnight sky. Despite the myriads of dreams floating in apparent chaos, it would be easy to find Rainbow. Even walking was not required to do it, actually. I just did it out of habit and because there was a lot I needed to tell Applejack before we started. Pinkie had just accepted whatever she saw or whatever I told her. Maybe in her own weird and funny way, she had even understood things without my need for explanation. Fluttershy had little need to be told too much. But this time would be different. We were planning a heist.

After I gave her the usual initial warnings and instructions about how to interact with dreams, I got into the nitty-gritty. “Most things here as well as in those dreams are about willpower. You want to fly? Will yourself to do it. Don’t throw a tantrum or demand something, just… will it into being. It’s hard to explain… hm.”

“Like buckin' apples?” she supplied. When I looked at her in confusion she elaborated. “It’s about feelin'. Feelin' the dirt under your hooves, feelin' the wind on your skin, feelin' connected to everything around you. Everythin' that grows. It’s almost like… talkin'. I don’t force those apples down. I could, I guess. But then they wouldn’t land in those bushels.”

Life is energy, energy is magic, life is magic. Maybe that explained why she gave all her trees names. To her, they were living beings with personality. Almost like extended family. Talking to a tree… by way of feeling connected… maybe something about energy transfer? But the dreamscape had no energy. No real dirt or real magic. But maybe I did not need to get too deep into the details. Maybe this would suffice. “Could work,” I said. “Now, it’s important that you don’t—“

I stopped and blinked. She was gone. I looked back and found Applejack standing a couple of feet behind me. Her gaze was transfixed on something ahead of us, so I looked there and saw something small, almost tiny, scurry from one side to the other. The body of a rat, but entirely made out of light. Orange light, like that of a sunrise. Its shape flickered and distorted, but always reformed into that of a tiny rat, scurrying about.

“Somepony needs to get pest control in here,” she joked but still looked a little uncomfortable. She walked up to my side and looked around to see if she could spot more.

I was frozen, however. I had felt it coming seconds before it hit. So I had planted my hooves firmly on the ground and braced against the onslaught. Another massive flash of insight, another wave of memories flooded my senses.

Life. There was so much life here. This rat was no rat at all. Its shape was just a poor attempt of my mind to recontextualize what it perceived into something it could understand. Size was proportionate to strength. This being was small, so it was weak. Maybe it was young — I could not tell if there was a correlation between age and size. My mind tried to sell it as a rat to me, to make me realize: This was no threat. No threat to me anyway. Given the right perspective and circumstances, everything was a predator to something else. Wolves ate sheep. Fish drank water. Trees dug their roots into dirt. Pulling what they needed to grow and thrive from somewhere else, something else.

I did not deem rats to be dangerous. So in turn, my mind used that. I knew Applejack had had some less comfortable encounters with rats. Maybe she had seen it as something else. Still something harmless probably. A small cat? A fish, swimming in this sea of stars?

The next wave hit. I groaned under the strain. These beings had no air to breathe, no water to drink, no flesh to devour. They had dreams and will and emotions. Dreams were loaded with those. Love, joy, grief, anger, hatred, greed. Some of these beings were parasites. Latching onto dreams, eating certain emotions, or all. That was beneficial sometimes. Eating hatred reduced it in the pony dreaming. Eating love did the same though.

Some were farmers. Sustaining themselves by sowing what they wanted. That too was not necessarily bad. Some were sowing nightmares, to gorge themselves on fear. Others were sowing sexual fantasies, to sustain themselves on carnal pleasure.

These things did not die of old age. They were timeless, as this plane knew nothing about time. Some ate and grew and became powerful enough to step beyond this plane and into our world. Out of greed or curiosity or even without thinking. Most were confused once they arrived. This strange place with its strange laws of ‘nature’. With time and gravity and brittle bones. Disasters ensued, usually. It did not happen often. But when it did, it was bad.

Windigos howling in the icy storm, feeding on the ponies’ hatred below them.

Green flames enveloping changelings, switching forms to drain more love.

A massive, gaping maw that—

“Talk to me.”

I blinked. Once, twice. I felt a hoof on my shoulder. Heard worry in a familiar voice. I slowly turned my head. Wheezing breaths rattled in my lungs. There was no air to breathe, but my mind did not care. I heard the blood rushing in my ears, a constant thumping behind my temples. AJ looked worried.

We’re here for work, her voice reminded me. An echo in my pulsing, aching head.

Right. Let’s get to it then. I lifted a hoof. It felt heavy, as if laden with lead. I stomped down onto the starlit black void. Once, twice, thrice. Each time, I felt the vibrations ripple out like aftershocks of an earthquake, and could hear the sound echoing into the infinite void. Rainbow, come forth!

The sea of dreams parted and a single bubble floated before us. It was gray. “What the heck? It’s the middle of the night, Rainbow, come on!” I cursed. My annoyance helped push past the flash.

Another flash immediately followed, a minor one. Barely an aftershock, compared to the massive earthquake that had come before it. I knew what to do. I carefully 'charged my horn'. It was not a requirement, but it helped me focus. I cautiously touched the sphere. Colors swirled. Formed, collapsed and reformed. Until, with the clarity of a one-way-mirror, we could see her.

“That’s her bedroom,” Applejack noted, slightly disturbed.

What else could it have been? But I kept silent. I inspected the scene. Walls made of enchanted cloud material. Pegasus magic. A window. I could see the night sky. A dresser on the edge of our ‘window’. It lay in shambles. I had not even known that those could be broken like that. Rainbow was lying on her cloud bed. Apparently awake. She trembled slightly. Twitched from time to time. She held onto one of her cloud pillows for dear life. She tried to curl in on herself, tried to become smaller still than she already was. Her wings were a mess. She was a mess. I heard Applejack gulp. “Oh Rainbow,” she whispered and lifted a hoof.

“Don’t!” I warned when I noticed her involuntarily reaching for her ex-marefriend. She held still and then let it drop. “This is just a minor hiccup,” I promised. “I’m gonna try something.”

I charged my horn again without waiting. It was just willpower. No real magic. “Sleep,” I commanded and shot a continuous beam at Rainbow. The spell impacted the dream sphere. There was no visible change in the real world for a few seconds until suddenly, Rainbow relaxed. I could not quite tell if I had been successful or if I had just gotten lucky. Her dream changed. I tasted something bitter on my tongue. Breathing became harder as if something was trying to choke me — so I just stopped caring about breathing in general. A nightmare was growing. And it felt threatened. It wanted us gone. It recognized us, to a certain degree. Applejack as someone who could starve it. And me as someone who could mess with it.

I looked over to Applejack. “This is it,” I said. “Remember: Careful, but unrelenting.”

She fixed her expression in a mask of cold determination and nodded. We both touched the sphere. It tried to push us away, tried to deny us entry. We pushed forward into it. Each inch was a little battle fought and won in our favor. “Steady,” I reminded her when we were a good ways in and made for a final push. Then we suddenly just fell in.

Bad sign.

We both hit the floorboards. Wooden floorboards. “What went wrong?” I heard her ask when I was still busy standing up. I was surprised as I looked around. We were standing in the Apple family farmhouse. The door was right behind us.

“Don’t touch that door,” I warned her with a whisper. “Or any window. It leads outside and will kick us out again.”

“Why are you whispering?” she asked and now whispered herself.

I looked around once more. The house was dark and empty. No Granny Smith rocking in her chair. Not a single candle anywhere. And it felt wrong. It was missing that comfy warmth it usually radiated. A home was more than just a house. It was a place filled with love and laughter. With a lot of negative emotions as well, admittedly. Arguments were had, tears were shed. But a true home should always brim with more positivity than it had negativity. This place was no home. It was just a house. One that tried very hard to be scary and intimidating.

“We are not alone,” I once more whispered. She looked confused, then alarmed. It was a good reaction. At the last second, the dream had allowed us in. Probably in an attempt to confront us more directly, as I slowly started to realize. Every subconscious had its own security. Things we wanted, things we feared. Things we want to stay hidden. They could manifest.

Some of these guardians were friendly. Even talkative. Most… were not. A brief flash told me that I had long suspected that Nightmare Moon had been a guardian once. Born from a wish for recognition, learning from the dreamscapes creatures, feeding on envy, anger, hatred, jealousy, until she broke the bounds of what she was and what she was supposed to do.

I noticed a quick movement to my left. Felt it more than I saw it. Just a sudden air current, but once I looked I saw just the living room. Empty, dark and cold. “There is a guardian here,” I told Applejack. “It can take many forms. It wants to stop us.”

“So it already knows we’re here?” she quietly asked. I nodded and carefully scanned the stairway and what I could see of the kitchen. She dropped her slightly crouched stance and stood tall and proud once more. “Well then there’s no reason to whisper, right?” she said and I flinched at the sudden change in volume.

I sighed. “Guess not.” I saw nothing that was immediately helpful. I did feel like someone was staring me down though, I just could not pinpoint the location of its source. “Say… if you were Rainbow and would create this as your fortress to make a last stand… where would you hide your secrets?”

“What, you don’t know?” she half-jokingly asked before answering, “In my room.”

I just shrugged. “With the amount of horror stories she tells, I wasn’t sure if she wouldn’t just pick the basement or attic or something.”

We both walked up the stairs. We were still creeping along slowly at first until Applejack remembered that our presence was already known anyway, so there really was no reason to be stealthy about it. It nevertheless made me wince as she stomped up the stairs.

Something zipped past us, but it was too quick for me to make out any details. Applejack had apparently felt it as well and returned to a little more careful approach. We reached the top of the stairs when something clashed downstairs. Instead of returning, I just looked over the railing to the floor beneath. A single brass candle holder was lying on the floor. Seeing that somehow still gave me goosebumps. I felt like I was being hunted and I decidedly did not enjoy the sensation.

I returned to Applejack’s side. "Candle holder," I whispered.

She had not moved from her position and instead opted to stare down the hallway to the right. “It’s there,” she flatly stated.

I focused in an attempt to see what she apparently saw, but the harder I tried, the darker it seemed to get. Until I realized that it was getting darker. The darkness all around us seemed to coalesce into a being. Ruby eyes opened in the blackness. Not quite the cerise of Rainbow's eyes. It looked more like blood. A maw with sharp, pointed teeth formed a wicked grin. And the shape of a pony finally stepped forward from the inky blackness. The cerulean tone matched Rainbow's coat, but this pegasus was wearing armor. Very, very spiky looking armor. And her rainbow mane was instead divided into six nuances of red. Lovely. Even her wings appeared to be laden with blades and spikes.

The guardian stepped forward and both Applejack and I involuntarily took a cautious step back. It stared us down, its eyes full of rage. “Is… is that Rainbow?” Applejack asked clearly distraught to see her friend in this state.

“No,” I immediately shut that thought down. “That’s a guardian. A part of her subconsciousness that’s trying to keep us away from that door.” I huffed. This was not going to be pretty. Slowly, without taking my eyes off that damn thing, I turned to Applejack. “AJ, we need to get through that door!”

Her gaze flickered between me and the guardian and the door, as if she had not noticed it being there before. Her uncertainty was quickly overwhelmed by a growing sense of purpose and determination. With steeled resolve, she dug her hooves against the floorboards. “You better hurry,” she remarked.

“I—“ What?

I was about to say something. Ask her what she meant. Maybe warn her not to do anything rash? But I was too late. Applejack charged head-first into the guardian. I really, really did not want to imagine what those armor spikes were doing right now. I just gave myself a jumpstart and ran. I ran as if the Grim Reaper was right behind me.

Maybe I should have told Applejack that there were consequences for wounds? Yeah. That would have been smart. Luckily, this was Rainbow. And with no disrespect to her, she would not be able to conjure something up that would actually have been capable of killing or even maiming us. That did not mean that it would not hurt, of course. But Applejack could handle herself in a fight and I had to trust her on that front. What had been the alternative anyway? Guardians did not tire. If destroyed, they just reformed. If pinned, they dissolved. And looking like a battle-hardened warrior like that, I was pretty sure that I would not stand a chance.

I reached the door and bucked it open. I could hear metal clatter behind me and AJ growling through pain. I heard the guardian hiss as I closed in on what it wanted to protect.

I faced opposition. Just like when we had first entered her dream, the door did not want me to get past it. There was a gaping black emptiness beyond an opened threshold, but stepping past it proved to be another battle. Slowly, ever so slowly, I pushed forward. Using enough force to make progress, but not enough to even risk destroying the dream. Because at this point, I was pretty sure that this was the guardians’ final weapon. To make me burst the bubble.

I pushed past the blackness with effort. And promptly stood in what I suspected was Rainbow's kitchen. Walls made of clouds were a good indicator, as well as several rarely used shelves and a sink. There was a table in the middle, sporting a single sheet of paper. It looked like some sort of document. I smiled as I regarded the rest of the room. It looked neat and clean and orderly. So very much unlike Rainbows actual kitchen, as far as I remembered. A tiny piece of wish-fulfillment, then.

But there was no time to pluck apart her dream. I stepped up to the table and took that document in my hooves and… groaned quietly. “Applejack?” With a mighty thud, the sounds of fighting stopped. I heard hoofsteps drawing closer to me a few seconds later. I still tried to make out what was written on this thing, but the text constantly blurred and shifted.

“So, uh,” she started and sounded hoarse and exhausted. “You can’t actually die here, right?”

My blood froze immediately, although I should have known better. I swirled around and faced her and let out a frightened whinny. She was a mess. Cuts and bruises all over her body. She was limping, trying to keep her left hind leg off the ground. There were so many holes and gashes she was bleeding from, a particularly large one on her neck…

I felt nauseous. I had to look away for a moment just to calm myself down. “It's fine,” I said more to myself than to her. “It’ll be fine. You, uh… you can die here, but it’s… it’s complicated. Each wound you accept puts mental strain on you. And our mind is wired in a specific way that makes it hard not to accept wounds. Once you accept that you have taken on enough, you ‘die’ here, which usually just makes you wake up. Have you ever woken up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, because of some nightmare? That’s that. And if you ever heard the phrase ‘frightened to death’, yeah, that’s a real thing. It can happen here. But Rainbow shouldn’t be strong enough to produce something that can do that to us.”

She looked confused. Probably because the concept of ‘not accepting to be wounded’ was indeed a weird one. As far as I remembered, I had never managed to learn it myself. I only knew of it in theory, as Luna herself was the only one who could deploy it in practice.

Then she grew worried as I continued on, but in the end, after I gave my all-clear, she just shrugged. “You… uh… you’re still going to feel that tomorrow,” I warned her. “Might wanna take it slow for a day.” She looked down on herself. Looked at all the blood that continued to seep from her wounds. More blood than she should have, really. But in her head it made sense that wounds this deep and large should bleed, so they did. She looked a little put off by the idea of not working herself to the bone, but chose not to comment. She instead came over and looked at the document.

“What’s that?” she asked with her brow furrowed.

“That’s what I’d like to know as well. It is the only important thing here. I’m pretty sure that’s what she was guarding. But text can be weird in dreams. So… what did you do to that guardian?” She understood what I was going for and turned around. Applejack limped out of the room just to return a couple of seconds later, dragging the mauled body of the dazed guardian with her by her tail.

Once inside the kitchen, she spat the tail out. “There you go.”

I walked over and took a good, long look at the guardian. I almost chuckled, but the sight of bloodied Applejack was still too fresh in my mind. It looked like one of those ‘you look awful — you should see the other one’-type of scenarios. I was not sure if guardians could fall unconscious. I suspected not. So I just gently tapped her on the cheek. She cracked an eye open accompanied by a groan. “Read that,” I demanded and put the document in front of her eyes. So she did. I growled in frustration after just a moment. “Read that out loud,” I added. “Or Applejack will punch you some more. She’s got a lot of frustration to work out of her system,” I belatedly threatened.

My threat seemed to do little. The guardian grew more agitated as it read the page on its own accord. Applejack was above her in an instant and pressed her down to the floor with both front hooves. “Talk!” she demanded.

Actually a good question. Could this one even—

“One day I’ll be the fastest, bestest, most-beloved flier in all of Equestria! And everypony will cheer for me! And I will leave you lot in the dust!”

Nevermind then.

Looking at the page again, the text did not make any more sense than it had before. But! There was a logo at the top, now discernable. I showed it to Applejack. “It’s the Wonderbolts Headquarters,” I remarked in confusion. “Why would that be an issue? She’s in the reserve already, isn’t she?”

Applejack nodded. “She is.”

This did not make any sense. So I mulled it over in my head, again and again. Until I felt like I was getting somewhere. One day. This guardian was not Rainbow. But a part of her. Rainbow loved to boast. Like, a lot. But she boasted about already being the best.

“She was applyin' for active duty,” Applejack mumbled as she mulled this over herself. “But she got denied. Several times actually.”

Maybe she got accepted? But why would that be an issue? One day… I will leave you.

Oh.

“She got denied,” I said.

Applejack nodded. “Yeah. She tried once a month or something, but—“

“No,” I interrupted and raised the document. “She got denied. This thing. Two weeks ago, from what you told me. Just her latest failed attempt.”

Applejack was confused. I noticed to my relief that her wounds had stopped bleeding. Probably because her focus was intensely directed at this conundrum of ours. “But that doesn’t make a lick of sense! Why would this time be different?”

I smiled sadly. “Because it doesn’t always click the first time. Or the second time, or third time. Here’s my theory: She got this letter, she was frustrated, she was trying to cheer herself up by thinking about how awesome it would be next time, when they finally saw reason and allowed her in. So far, so Rainbow?” She thought it through for a moment and nodded. “But see, that’s the problem. If she got accepted… what would happen?”

AJ furrowed her brow. “We’d be havin' a mighty fine party?”

I nodded. “Yeah, probably. But it wouldn’t stop there. Then she’d be a Wonderbolt. Training as much as you work each day. Having her shows all over Equestria. Having to show up at awful upper class parties, because they are celebrities. Trying to smooth talk to some stuck up noble instead of, you know… being at home. With her marefriend. Snuggling on the bed. If they said ‘yes’, she would have a career. A very, very time-consuming, very demanding, very tiresome and exhausting carrier. The Wonderbolts Headquarters is, if I remember correctly, in Canterlot. They have nice barracks, you know? The way from Canterlot to Ponyville is pretty far, if you think about it.”

It started to dawn on her with each word. “She’s choosing between me and her dream.” Her expression became weirdly lifeless after a moment and she sat down on her haunches. She released the guardian who did nothing now that nothing was to be gained by fighting. “I lost her,” Applejack numbly stated.

The guardian, as if participating in an entirely different conversation, just took one last look at the document and mumbled, “You deserve better…” And then dissolved. For such a fierce protector, that had even been strangely… helpful.

“No. No, no, no. Applejack, look at me.” She wasn’t reacting. So I grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “This isn’t what you think!” I insisted. “You’re running head first into a dead end and you’re running in the wrong direction, no less!” Her expression changed to something more guarded. “We even talked about this earlier — putting your friends before yourself. She wants you to be happy, even at the cost of her own happiness.”

“… by dumpin' me,” she flatly replied.

“By giving you a chance to find somepony who doesn’t think for a second and chooses you. Somepony who isn’t conflicted about this choice. Being a Wonderbolt has been her life-long dream so far. Maybe I’m wrong here. Maybe it’s something else. But with all that I know of her, I think it’s the most plausible explanation! Choosing between her loyalty — and love — for you and her dream… I don’t think you lost that battle. But I think she panicked because there was a battle. I mean… think about it. When we saw her, she wasn’t sleeping like a good cadet should, or training. She was sulking, crying herself to sleep.” I pointed a hoof at the spot where the guardian had dissolved. “A part of her psyche had said it herself: She thinks you deserve better.”

She didn’t look convinced. She looked conflicted, if anything. To be fair, I was once more operating on a lot of assumptions. Maybe Applejack was right. Maybe I should have made progress in other parts of my life first. Maybe it would have been better to befriend Rainbow first. I supposed that could have given me valuable insight into her psyche. A better foundation for what I was rambling on about. But things hadn't worked out that way and here we were.

Well at least we knew what the original incident had been. Given the circumstances, there could be little doubt that this document had been another rejection. Pinkie’s senses would have told her to prepare a ‘congratulations, Wonderbolt Dash’-party otherwise. What exactly had happened in Rainbows head in the past two weeks to lead from this to dumping Applejack was a different story though. I had tried my best to give a decent explanation. It seemed pretty coherent to me. And while not convinced, Applejack did not deny it as a possibility. I could not fathom what that conflict was that appeared to rage in her head now — or heart. Or both.

The Fact of the matter was — we were done. It felt unsatisfying. But there was nothing else here to gain.

“I should probably—“ I started.

Only for her to interrupt me with a quick “We should go.” Right.