You might not hear it, but through their leaves the Trees whisper your name
It had to happen on a perfect morning. Not a cloud in sight, the sun high up in the sky beaming down on the earth, the air as fresh as if it had just been squeezed from a cloud. The weather practically begged ponies to go outside and enjoy the breeze.
And yet, Applejack wished to be anywhere but outside. Big Mac was polite enough not to say more than he needed, but the situation was clear. She needed to visit them.
She glanced left and right sourly as she passed through her orchard. Even though her destination was at the far end of the plot and she had plenty of reason to hurry, she still couldn't bring herself to not make sure the other trees were alright. Not to mention, the routine also brought her mind some reprieve from the darkness that not even the gleaming emerald grass nor the crystal-light of the sun could dispel.
It wasn’t the first time she had to take this trip. Really, in a sense it too almost felt like routine by now, but the mere notion of such sent Applejack’s stomach into a twist. It was a walk of shame that reminded her of her failure as a friend and the lead-weighing promise she made then to protect those left behind. Alone.
She supposed there was a cruel sense of logic in her curse. What she lost was irreplaceable and until she were to join them again, no replacement would ever bring Harmony to her heart. Truly, she understood. But knowledge did little against the pain as she reached the end of the orderly rows and arrived at a small clearing.
Five trees stood in a loose half-circle and, as always, it took Applejack what felt like the strength necessary to buck a hundred of their siblings empty of apples to finally look at them. And, like each time before, it felt like they looked right back at her.
She beheld the first tree. It was a weeping willow, hiding its branches and trunk behind a shower of shy leaves. From deep inside its protective cowl, an aria of birdsong filled the air, singing an elegy passed on from one generation to another. Applejack trotted up to the willow and touched its bark. In response the tree shivered and a single yellow apple descended from the thick depths of its canopy. Without a word Applejack took off her hat, placed the apple into it, and passed on to the second tree.
Even before reaching it, Applejack had to shrink back from the sudden thick aroma of sweetness that hit her nostrils. The second tree was a cherry blossom, shedding its beautiful petals to the gentle wind, carrying colour and sweetness far and wide, while its twigs cheerfully bobbed up and down. Applejack didn’t even need to touch it, the tree plopped a gleaming pink apple right into her hat. “Thank you,” Applejack whispered before moving on.
The third tree shone far brighter than the rest. It was a silver poplar, swaying elegantly in the breeze. Its trunk was dotted by intricate patterns and its leaves sported a whirlwind of purple hues, turning it into a painter’s masterpiece. As Applejack walked closer, she noticed how despite the tree’s thin foliage, no matter where she stepped there was always a leaf protecting her eyes from the sun’s rays. By the time she reached the trunk, she found a white apple placed firmly in a bed of grass right underneath. “Showoff.” Applejack smiled a little and shook her head as she passed forth.
Applejack cursed herself for making distinctions, but she would have lied if she said the eucalyptus wasn’t the most painful sight for her. Its trunk and branches reached ever higher and higher, as if challenging the sky itself with no intent to ever back down. What’s more, splattered all over them were reds, greens, blues, yellows, and pinks, all joined together to form a chaotic tapestry that Applejack struggled to describe as anything but awesome. This time the apple, painted just as vividly as the bark, fell from dangerously high. It bounced from branch to twig, before stylishly sliding down the trunk right into Applejack’s hat.
One last tree awaited her. An oak that, despite not being any older than the rest, always seemed ancient as far as Applejack could remember. Patches of mushrooms sprouted from its thick trunk, reaching out with their mycelium and connecting the tree to the others. Applejack was never one for reading, but as she walked below the oak’s shade, the thought of how perfect it’d be to just lie down and crack open a novel crossed her mind. But instead, she simply wiped her wet eyes and continued her trot towards the base of the tree. Hovering a hoof above the ground, a purple apple greeted her, coated in a faint aura that dissipated the moment she touched the fruit.
Her harvest was done. As she began her long trek home, Applejack glanced back one more time. Like always before, she left with two words on her lips and an unspoken vow.
Applejack hardly paid attention to the monster rampaging towards her. She’d faced far too many before to be fazed anymore. Her gaze was fixated on the small bottle hanging from her neck. She pulled the cork and glanced inside, her eyes growing wet as she saw the glowing liquid. Shutting them tight, she drank the sweet brew. As it spread through her, her body began to glow. An ancient and familiar power filled her. The monster continued undeterred, but Applejack knew its seconds were numbered.
Silently, she allowed the power to strike out and reduce the beast to smouldering ashes. As she descended to the ground, Applejack felt no triumph or victory, only hollowness inside. She yearned for the day this power would seek new hosts and she would be allowed to see them again.
Until then, however, she had a promise to keep.
