My muscles protested as I flung the thick duvet off my body and swung my legs to plant a foot on the cold wooden floor. With a practised motion, I reached out and attached my prosthetic leg, giving it a few test taps against the floor. The soft thunk of the rubber sole grounding me was oddly reassuring. Grabbing a hairband from the bedside table, I tied my hair back into a thick ponytail before pushing myself up from the bed. Crossing the room to the vanity table opposite my bed, I caught a glimpse of my reflection. God, I looked like hell.

Dark bags hung under my eyes, half-obscured by heavy lids. My frazzled hair stuck out in unruly curls, the product of yet another sleepless night. My shoulders sagged, weighed down by the exhaustion etched into my very being.

The sudden appearance of Damien had added to my already mountain-high levels of stress and easily had robbed me of rest for the better part of a week. Combine that with Ghost still being deeply comatose, and it was no wonder my mind felt like it was running on fumes. My friends had tried to help, bless them, but if I couldn’t fix this, they didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell. Not that I didn’t appreciate their efforts—far from it. They’d overheard parts of my exchange with Damien before the fight and thought talking it out might “ease my burden.” But this burden was mine to bear. And bear it I would.

I slipped into a faded white shirt and pulled on my purple coat, the motions mechanical. Almost without thinking, I strapped Ace’s holster to my left thigh and slid the hand cannon into place, savouring the satisfying scrape of metal against tempered leather. Making my way out of the room, I greeted the maids and butlers as I passed, noting the subtle concern in their eyes. Their unspoken worry followed me down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Sir," Rose Blossom greeted me as I entered. Her warm smile softened the sharp edges of my mood.

"Morning, Rose," I replied, taking a seat at the kitchen island. "How are you?"

"I'm well, Sir," She said, her smile taking on a sympathetic edge. "Though I’d ask how you’re doing, I think I already know the answer."

I hummed noncommittally, rubbing my eyes as I slouched against the countertop. The clatter of ceramic drew my attention as Rose set a plate of BLTs in front of me. I didn’t need to eat or drink, but damn, they looked especially good today. And that was saying something.

"Thanks," I muttered, nodding as I picked up one of the sandwiches and took a hearty bite.

"You know, Sir," Rose began thoughtfully, "if you’re having trouble sleeping, you might consider visiting the shaman in the woods. Her remedies worked wonders for my brother."

I paused mid-chew, the idea taking root. Swallowing, I picked up the second sandwich and nodded. "I hadn’t considered it," I admitted, the thought gaining traction. "Why not? Can’t hurt to try."

As I finished my meal, it dawned on me who Rose was referring to. Zecora. I hadn’t spoken to her since the attack on Ponyville about seven months ago. Damn. Time really does fly. The girls had mentioned her briefly after some mishap with Poison Joke, singing her praises. If anyone could help me get a decent night’s sleep—or even a fleeting moment of peace—it would be her.

Standing, I thanked Rose as she took my plate and left the kitchen. Heading toward the foyer, I caught faint voices on the other side of the front door. Before I could investigate, Walter intercepted me.

"Good morning, Walter," I greeted him with a tired smile.

"Good morning, Sir," He replied with his usual professionalism. "Apologies for the interruption, but Young Spike is at the door, accompanied by the Elements of Harmony."

"What could they want?" I wondered, humming thoughtfully. "Thanks for letting me know, Walter."

"Of course." He started to step away, then hesitated. "I also heard you’re planning a visit to Lady Zecora."

"I am. Need something?"

"If it wouldn’t be too much trouble," He said, retrieving a folded piece of paper from his vest. "It’s all in here, Sir. Thank you."

"No trouble at all," I assured him, slipping the note into my coat pocket. Walter gave a small nod of appreciation and disappeared into another room.

Turning back to the front door, I leaned in, eavesdropping on the muffled conversation outside. Sure enough, I recognized Spike and Twilight’s voices, the tone tense and argumentative.

"What you’re doing is brash, Spike," Twilight said sharply. "Not to mention selfish! Percival is under enough stress as it is."

"It’s my decision to make!" Spike shot back, his voice equally firm.

"No, it’s not! It’s his!"

Deciding to intervene, I opened the door. The conversation abruptly ceased, and all eyes turned to me. Sure enough, Spike stood flanked by Twilight and the rest of the girls, all wearing thicker clothing to protect them from the mid-Autumn air. Spike's expression was defiant and determined, if a little awkward from my sudden intrusion into the conversation.

"Heyo," I greeted with a small smile.

"Uh... hey," Spike replied, waving awkwardly before straightening. "So... I came to ask—"

"Spike, it’s barely been a week since we got back," I interrupted firmly, stepping past him. The group fell into step behind me as I continued. "I told you to wait a month. That should’ve been the minimum."

"But—"

"Spike, he told you his training could kill you!" Twilight interjected, horrified. "Why would you even consider something so dangerous?"

"Because every time you girls go on an adventure or something goes wrong, I’m useless!" Spike snapped, turning to face her. "I want to change that. I want to help. And who better to learn from than Percival? You saw him defend Ponyville seven months ago. He was at Las Almas! Who else could teach me what I need to know?"

"You being there is enough for us," Fluttershy said softly.

"Yeah, you’re like the awesome little brother I never had," Rainbow Dash chimed in, slinging an arm around his shoulder.

"And you throw down at a party like no one I know!" Pinkie Pie added, popping up beside him. "Well, except for me, of course."

"Not to mention your talent for finding gems," Rarity said with a warm smile.

"Spike, I don’t know what I’d have done to break Discord’s spell without you," Twilight said, placing her hands on his cheeks.

Spike rolled his eyes. "I literally just vomited up letters. That’s all I did."

"And it was exactly what I needed!" Twilight insisted, shaking his face lightly.

Spike pulled back, frustration written all over him. "Percival beat Discord alone. He beat the Kraken, for Helis’s sake! And you saw him yesterday!"

I flinched at that, the memory still fairly raw. A few of the girls noticed, but only Applejack lingered on it before returning her attention to Spike. Stopping at the front gate, I let my arm drop to my side as I turned to address him.

"Spike," I said gently. "I told you the risks. I told you to think it through. I don’t want you rushing into this blindly and hurting yourself needlessly."

His face twisted in frustration as he glanced between me and the others. Without another word, he pushed past me, shoving the gate open and storming off toward the library. Twilight hesitated, torn between following him and staying behind.

"Spike! Wait up!" she called, running after him.

The others followed her shortly after, leaving only Applejack behind. She paused for a moment, her gaze fixed on me as I shrugged.

"He's still a kid," I said, stepping past the gate and closing it gently once she joined me. "He’ll calm down eventually. They always do."

"Sounds like ya got some experience," She remarked, walking beside me.

"A little," I replied with a casual shrug.

"That actually brings me to somethin’ a few of us wanted to talk to ya about," She said, sliding her hands into her jacket pockets. "The girls aren’t too happy with ya."

"Why?" I asked, glancing her way as we strolled through town. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Not exactly," She admitted, pulling her sheepskin jacket tighter against the chilly air. Her steps faltered for a moment as if she were searching for the right words. "It’s just... we’ve been friends with ya for what, seven months now?"

"Seven and a half, I think."

"Right," She said, nodding. "And even though we’ve known ya that long, it feels like we don’t really know you. What we do know is vague, or just ends up raisin’ more questions."

I shrugged again. "I’m just not that interesting."

"See, that’s what I’m talkin’ about," Applejack said, her voice sharpening with frustration. "Whenever we ask about ya, you dodge or change the subject. Even that night at your place—you barely engaged. That’s why we’re upset. Ya won’t let anyone in, Percy. If ya keep this up, the only person you’re gonna hurt is yourself."

"What is this, another prophecy?" I said with a bitter chuckle. "Jesus."

"This ain’t a joke, Percy!" Applejack snapped, stopping in her tracks. "What are you so afraid of? Are ya scared to care about someone? To let yourself be vulnerable? We’re worried about ya! We don’t even know where ya went or how long ya were gone. What do ya think, huh? That opening up to us would make ya weak? That we’d turn on ya?"

"AJ," I said, my voice dropping into a low, firm tone, "Drop it."

"No!" She yelled, grabbing my arm to stop me from walking off. "We’re your friends, Percy! Friends help each other!"

By then, the others had calmed Spike down and were walking through the street. They spotted us quickly, their steps slowing as they noticed the tension in the air. My irritated expression only added to their hesitation.

"What’s going on here?" Twilight asked, her voice cautious.

"Yeah, why are you two yelling?" Rainbow chimed in, confusion etched on her face. She glanced at me just as I turned to leave. "And where are you going?"

"Away!" I replied curtly, my tone brooking no argument.

"Percy!" Applejack called after me as I started walking.

I didn’t look back. I didn’t even slow down as I made a beeline for the Everfree Forest. Applejack followed closely behind, her boots crunching on the dirt path as she jogged to keep up.

"Fine!" She shouted. "If ya won’t tell us about yourself, then at least tell us why you won’t train Spike!"

"Because there’s a real risk he could get hurt—or worse!" I snapped over my shoulder. "I think that’s reason enough."

"But it ain’t the only reason, is it?" She pressed, her voice insistent as she closed the distance between us.

"It’s..." I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. "It’s complicated."

"See? This is exactly what I mean!" She said, exasperation colouring her tone. "You say we’re your friends, but we don’t know a damn thing about ya!"

"AJ, I said drop it," I warned.

"I wanna!" She shot back. "But I can’t!"

"AJ—"

"Please!" She cried, grabbing my shoulder and spinning me around to face her. Her green eyes locked onto mine, filled with equal parts desperation and determination. "For Durin's sake, just let us in!"

At that moment, something inside me cracked. Years—decades, centuries—of carefully constructed walls collapsed under the weight of her words. A tidal wave of memories and emotions surged forward, threatening to drown me. Faces, voices, regrets—all the losses and failures I’d buried deep came rushing to the surface. The weight of Ghost and Damien’s deaths only added to the unbearable burden. I felt myself crumble.

Gripping Applejack’s hand, I pulled her closer. She let out a startled yelp as I wrapped an arm around her neck, pulling her down as I knelt. I made sure not to hurt her, just enough to hold her still. Leaning in, I whispered so only she could hear.

"You want to know about me?" I hissed, my voice cold and low. "Fine."

"I had a sister once," I began, my tone icy and distant. "She was my light—my reason for staying alive and sane. When religious fanatics slaughtered my family, I took it upon myself to raise her. My father killed her. She was eight years old. Eight!" My teeth clenched as the words came out. "I hunted that bastard for a year and killed him in his sleep when I was younger than Spike. I took a bread knife to his chest again and again and again until my arms were red."

Applejack stopped struggling, her breath trembling as she absorbed my words.

"I had a wife. A loving wife," I continued, my voice cracking. "I don’t even know where she is now. I had children, Applejack—beautiful, wonderful children. They were my world, and I don’t know if they’re alive or dead. I trained them. I taught them everything I could and I don't know if it was anywhere near enough to keep them safe. That's why I hesitate to train Spike," Silent tears streamed down my stoic face. "I was defending them—my home, my family—when I was ripped away. Do you have any idea what that’s like? To give everything, only to fail?"

Applejack’s body shook as tears flowed freely down her cheeks. She made no effort to escape my grip.

"You could never understand," I said, my tone firm but quieter now. "None of you could. This is my burden, Applejack. Mine and mine alone. I carry it so none of you ever have to."

I released her, stepping back as she crumpled to the ground. Her friends rushed over, their voices a flurry of concern as they tried to comfort her. Fluttershy and Rarity kneeling beside her, checking to make sure she wasn’t hurt. I stood, glancing at them one last time before turning toward the Everfree.

"Percival! Wait!" Twilight called after me, but I didn’t stop. I didn’t even look back. Being in the state that I was in, I ignored her and pressed on.

~~

I wandered for what felt like hours, struggling to retrace the steps I knew would lead me to Zecora’s hut. My path wound deeper into the forest than I had anticipated, finally bringing me to the area near a large waterfall close to the ruins of the old castle.

Her home was hidden well, carved into the husk of an ancient, thick tree. Overgrown flora enshrouded the hut, with strands of moss and climbing plants draping over it like curtains, serving both as shade for the windows and natural camouflage. The sight stirred a sense of faint familiarity within me, its odd beauty both comforting and intriguing.

I gave the solid wooden door a firm knock before stepping back, my hand instinctively resting on Ace. My eyes swept the surrounding brush, scanning unconsciously for predators or other dangers. Moments later, the door creaked open, revealing Zecora. Her eyes widened in surprise, but she opened the door fully, allowing me a proper look at her.

She appeared much as I had expected. Smooth, dark skin complemented by a striking black-and-white striped mohawk. Her bright teal eyes stood out vividly, and rings of gold adorned her neck, wrists, and ears. What I hadn’t anticipated was her attire: a simple beige tunic paired with a dark brown poncho-like shawl draped over one shoulder.

“Goodness, my saviour, I had feared you had forgotten me,” She greeted warmly, her deep voice exactly as I remembered. “Though I suspect this visit is more than just courtesy.”

She stepped aside, gesturing for me to enter. I bowed my head appreciatively and stepped into her hut, noting how much larger it appeared on the inside than I had remembered. Magic was surely at work here. Across from the familiar cauldron, a modest yet comfortable couch occupied one corner of the living area. She motioned for me to sit while she took her place on a large, cushioned mat nearby.

The space felt lived-in and vibrant, its walls adorned with masks, hanging greenery, and shelves lined with potions and ingredients. A small workstation sat tucked into the back corner near a closed door, likely leading to her bedroom or storage. The atmosphere exuded a distinctly tribal charm.

“Thank you for having me,” I began sincerely. “First, I owe you an apology for not visiting sooner. I—”

“You have been busy, that much is plain to see,” Zecora interjected in her lilting, rhyming tones, her gaze briefly flicking to my arm and leg. A knowing smile crossed her lips. “To turn away my saviour would show poor hospitality.”

Her eyes twinkled as she continued, “But tell me, my friend, to what purpose does this visit tend?”

“I… need help,” I admitted hesitantly. “My mind’s been heavy, and it’s costing me sleep.”

Zecora hummed thoughtfully. “Hmm, I see. Perhaps some tea?”

“If you think it’ll help,” I replied, offering a faint smile.

With a nod, she began moving around the hut, gathering ingredients with practised efficiency. Soon, the fire beneath the cauldron was replaced with a cast-iron kettle. As the water heated, she glanced at me over her shoulder.

“I suspect your troubles run deep,” she observed softly. “Tell me, what has stolen your sleep?”

I sighed, leaning forward as I rested my elbow on my knee. “There have been three major demon attacks in just the past month,” I began. “My confidant of half a year is out of commission. Spike—who I’m sure you know—has asked me to train him, even though he’s well aware of the risks. And that’s just the recent chaos.”

Zecora nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. “Then I understand why you came to me. I shall do my best to ease your burden, you will see.”

Her words were reassuring, but she moved with purpose, selecting a jar from one of her shelves. “Maybe a stronger remedy may suffice to keep your mind from this vice,” she murmured, adding the new ingredient to the kettle. The fragrant steam that began to rise was soothing in itself.

A few minutes passed as the tea brewed. Once ready, she poured the warm liquid into two hand-crafted clay mugs, handing one to me.

“It will take some time to take effect,” she said, her calm voice filled with certainty. “But trust me, its benefits are no mere prospect.”

I took a tentative sip, the faintly honey-sweet flavour providing immediate comfort. The tea’s warmth seemed to extend beyond my throat, settling soothingly in my chest and stomach. For a moment, I allowed myself to enjoy the reprieve as Zecora studied me, her gaze both curious and understanding.

“I sense your burdens are heavier than you let on,” she remarked gently. “If I may ask, what else weighs upon?”

I sighed deeply, staring into the mug. “I snapped at a good friend of mine, Applejack,” I admitted, guilt lacing my tone. “She only wanted to help, but instead of letting her in, I deflected—and said some things I regret.”

“Perhaps you should let them in,” Zecora suggested, her voice soft. “Would that be such a sin?”

“I can’t,” I said, shaking my head. My voice wavered as I continued, “The things I know… the things I’ve done… I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“Then begin where you can,” she said simply, a kind smile playing on her lips. “Even small steps can lead to a plan.”

Her words held a comforting simplicity, but I remained unconvinced. “It’s not that easy,” I murmured, my gaze fixed on the floor.

Zecora reached out, resting a hand on my shoulder. Her touch was reassuring as her eyes met mine. "Give your friends some trust and they will turn your doubts to dust. I know in your mind it is not so simple, but the relief you may feel may not be so little."

"While the hardest to make is the first, the next will not take so much effort," She added, an encouraging tone taking her rhymes. "At the very least, an apology to a friend is needed and see after that if you feel conflicted."

I swallowed hard, her encouragement settling uneasily in my chest. “Maybe you’re right,” I said after a moment, standing and draining the last of my tea. “At the very least, she deserves an apology.”

Zecora nodded approvingly. As I moved to leave, I hesitated, remembering Walter’s request. “Oh, I almost forgot.” Reaching into my jacket, I pulled out a folded note. “A friend asked if you could help with this.”

She took the paper, her expression brightening with recognition. “Ah, I recognise the handwriting, it is from good Walter! I shall gather the ingredients he needs, I shant be much longer."

Zecora busied herself at her workstation, gathering various ingredients into small pouches. When she returned, I took the supplies and, with a flick of my hand, sent them to safekeeping in a burst of fire. Her wide-eyed surprise prompted a small chuckle.

“They’re safe,” I reassured her, conjuring and dispelling the items a few times to prove it. “Thank you for everything, Zecora. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

“My door is always open to the one who saved my life,” she said warmly, seeing me off. “For without your aid, I would still face strife.”

With her words in mind, I set off, resolved to make amends with a certain farmgirl.

~~

As I approached the farmstead, a knot tightened in my stomach. I wasn’t worried she’d hate me—Applejack wasn’t like that—but beyond that, I had no idea how she’d react. The well-trodden dirt path felt heavier beneath my feet with every step, but my apprehension was briefly interrupted by the familiar bark of the farm’s resident pupper, Winona.

“Hey there, girl,” I murmured, kneeling to give her a scratch behind the ears. “You know where Applejack’s at?”

Winona responded with a soft whine, licking my hand before glancing over her shoulder toward the farmhouse. She looked back at me, then barked once, her tail wagging as she trotted off. It was clear she expected me to follow, and I so did, my steps quickening as she led me to the front porch. Climbing the wooden steps, I knocked on the door and took a step back, anticipation building in my chest.

When the door swung open, I was greeted by Granny Smith, her warm smile lifting some of the weight off my shoulders. “Well, if it ain’t Percy! How ya been, son?”

I offered a faint smile in return. “I’ve been better,” I admitted. “Is Applejack around? I need to talk to her.”

Granny Smith’s expression softened, and she nodded slowly. “She’s out in the orchard, but lemme give ya a word o’ warnin’. She’s been outta sorts since she got back.”

“I think I know why,” I said, guilt tightening my voice as I glanced downward. “Thank you, Miss Smith. I’ll go find her. You have a good day.”

She waved a hand dismissively. “Just call me Granny. And please, do talk to her. Last time she was like this… well, it was when her Ma and Pa passed. I hate seein’ her like this.”

“I’ll do my best,” I assured her, though the weight of her words pressed heavily on me.

As I descended the steps, I paused to pat Winona again. She barked happily, her tail wagging furiously, before bounding off into the yard. I continued down the path into the orchard, letting the scenery distract me momentarily from my thoughts. I’d walked this path countless times but rarely stopped to appreciate it. The trees stood tall and proud, their branches heavy with glossy, crimson apples that shone like jewels in the sunlight. It was clear every inch of this orchard was cared for with love and dedication.

The sound of heavy, deliberate grunts broke through my thoughts. Quickening my pace, I followed the noise until I found Applejack. She stood beneath one of the trees, her back to me, delivering sharp kicks to the trunk. The apples rained down with dull thuds, each kick harder than the last. Her posture was tense, shoulders high and rigid, her ears twitching slightly as the sound of my pegleg meeting a root gave me away.

“Applejack?” I called softly, stepping into the dappled shade of the tree.

She didn’t turn. Didn’t respond.

“It’s me,” I tried again.

Still nothing.

Sighing, I leaned against a nearby tree. “Alright, you don’t have to say anything, but I hope you’ll hear me out.” My voice wavered as I took a deep breath, steeling myself. “I… I said some awful things earlier, and I’m here to apologize. You were only trying to help, and I had no right to lash out at you the way I did. It was cruel, and I regret every word. I’m sorry, Applejack.”

Silence hung between us. She didn’t move, her head bowed slightly. Nodding to myself, I turned to leave, figuring she needed time. But before I could take a step, I heard movement behind me. Applejack spun around and closed the distance between us in an instant, throwing her arms around me. Her face pressed into my chest as she clung to me tightly, tears soaking into my shirt.

“I’m not mad about what ya said!” She cried, her voice muffled against me. “I’m upset ‘cause of all the terrible things you’ve been through. I…I’d have broken into a million pieces if it'd been me.”

I wrapped an arm around her gently, rubbing her back as her sobs shook her frame. “Can I tell you a secret?”

She nodded without looking up.

“It’s not much of a secret, really,” I admitted, my voice soft. “The truth is, I am broken. I’ve been alive for thousands of years, maybe longer, and it leaves a mark. I’ve seen and done things that still haunt me, and I’ve made mistakes I can never undo.”

She pulled back slightly, her tear-streaked face looking up at me. “But how do ya keep goin’ after all that?”

I offered her a small, sad smile. “Because it’s what my family would want. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss them, but I keep moving forward. If I gave up, they’d be disappointed, and I couldn’t bear that.”

Applejack sniffled and adjusted her crooked hat. “I don’t know how ya do it.”

“With immense difficulty,” I admitted. “And it’s only gotten harder.”

"You can talk to me, ya know?" She said, gently squeezing my hand. "You've helped me so much already, let me help you for once. Even if it's just a shoulder to cry on."

I tried to smile as warmly as I could, though it probably came across as weary. "I've cried a lot already for what I've left behind. But....maybe it wouldn't hurt."

As we began walking back toward the farmhouse, Applejack paused to collect the fallen apples and put them into a hamper. I hesitated before speaking. “Do the others know?”

She shook her head. “No. I left right after you did. Came straight here.”

“Applejack,” I started, guilt threading through my voice, “I'm really sorry for how I acted. I know you were just trying to be a good friend and I-"

"No, Percy, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pushed so hard," She interrupted. "I know ya were stressed and I should’ve given ya more space with everything that’s been happenin’.”

“Looks like we both messed up,” I said, chuckling softly.

“Reckon we did,” she agreed, bumping my shoulder lightly with hers.

As we neared the house, she glanced at me curiously. “So… what was her name?”

A bittersweet smile crossed my lips. “Tiche.”

Author's Note

Welp, Percy finally broke and it seems he has more to work through than they thought
And damn, Zecora is hard to write for. I think I was subconsciously avoiding her
And it looks like we finally have a name for our mans spouse (I've been playing too much Elden Ring, I swear)

Hope you guys enjoyed

Please point out any mistakes I may have made
Constructive criticism is always appreciated
Until next time, TTFN!