Another howl echoed from somewhere behind them.
“I think we should turn around,” the mare whispered.
“Eenope, we’re too far down the path,” replied the stallion. “It’d take longer to turn around than it would to get through the rest of it.”
The mare sighed, trying to fight off the shiver racing down her spine. She picked up her pace, the lantern above her cart swinging back and forth at a sporadic, rapid rate as it threw light haphazardly across the path before them.
All around them the forest seemed to reel in shock at their presence. Branches twisted and shook in the wind, while crisp dead leaves fell to pieces beneath their hooves and the wagon’s wheels.
Ahead of her, the stallion slowly and cautiously swept the woods with their eyes, searching for any sign of movement. “Damned Timberwolves,” he muttered. “We should have left earlier.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” offered the mare. “They should have packed it correctly in the first place.”
“Reckon so.” He sighed and offered a quiet smile. “Come on, we’re nearly through it. Then we can rest.”
They continued to pick their way through the brush, freezing and glancing into the darkness every time a howl echoed from somewhere around them. As they drew deeper and deeper, however, she found the cold getting worse and worse.
“We should have passed the marker,” she whispered.
“I know,” he answered grimly. “I… We shouldn’t be lost. It only goes one way, so…”
They drew to a halt, looking around at the endless mass of trees around them.
“What was the last marker we saw… the one to the fishing hole?”
“I– I don’t remember!”
Another howl stabbed through the air.
The stallion swore, grabbing the mare by the hoof. “Come on, we need to move!”
The two tore through the night, snapping branches beneath them as they raced down the road. Noises within the brush seemed to grow in volume: deep, unsettling growls that always seemed to come from right beside them.
“Lights ahead!”
The two came to a halt in a clearing, where a pair of lanterns pulsed warmly like fire, piercing through the darkness. “Halt!” Commanded a deep voice from below. Two Royal Guards appeared, brandishing spears and shields. “Identify yourselves!”
“Bright Mac and Pear Butter,” shouted the stallion. “We’re tryin’ to make a delivery.”
“There’s Timberwolves back there,” Pear continued with a nervous glance behind them. “Please, we need to get through!”
The lead guard stepped forward, shadows obscuring his face. “You need to come with us.”
Pear nodded, but Bright narrowed his eyes. “Now hold on a second. Where are you takin’ us?”
“You need to come with us,” the guard said again.
“W-What’s going on?” Pear asked. “Somethin’s wrong.”
The guards lowered their spears and stepped closer towards them. Bright growled, putting himself in between Pear and the spear points. “Now listen here, I dunno what you’re tryin’ to pull, but–”
A blast of magic fired from one of the guards, slamming into Bright’s chest. He fell to the ground with a grunt as Pear screamed, rushing to his side. The other guard quickly forced her back, their horn glowing in a sinister green glow.
“Wh… Why?” she gasped, before another blast forced its way through her skull.
As her consciousness faded, the last thing she saw was a puff of green magic, and one of the guards losing their pony form completely.
“Now what?” asked the transformed one. “Call the infiltrators?”
The other guard scoffed. “Don’t bother, they’re just farmers. Let’s take them back to the hive. Clean this up, make it look natural.”
“With pleasure,” grinned the other. In a burst of magic they grew in size, their laugh morphing into a deep, low growl. In a flash of magic, they took the form of a Timberwolf, eyeing the apple cart hungrily.
With a savage roar, they tore into it, sending splinters of wood and apples flying in every direction. By the time they finished, it sat in an unrecognizable mess, looking like a tornado had ripped straight down its middle.
And when the sun rose in the morning, there was no sign of Bright Mac nor Pear Butter.
“They did what?! To who?!”
The changeling in front of him cleared his throat as Thorax picked his jaw off the floor. “It was part of Chrysalis' Covert Operations Program. Specially trained infiltrators would seek out isolated ponies, capture them, and if they held a significant position, replace them.”
Thorax looked like he was about to collapse. “And… And the ones that weren’t? They were brought here?”
“Yes, your highness. They were kept in–”
“Don’t tell me…”
“Sir, I assure you that they are perfectly fine.”
“Perfectly fine?!” Thorax gaped at them. “These ponies have lost months off of their lives, their loved ones think they’re missing! You think that’s fine?!”
The changeling shifted on their hooves uncomfortably. “Years, sir.”
“YEARS?!”
“Some, yes! Sir, this was all done under the direction of–”
Thorax trembled. “Chrysalis, yes, I know! Well I won’t allow this to continue by another step!” With a nervous gulp, he pushed past them and into the dark and dimly lit room. Inside, several pulsing green sacks sat scattered around the room, attached to the floor and ceiling by thin green tendrils. Inside, Thorax could barely make out the silhouettes of ponies.
The sight sent a shudder down his spine.
“Shall we release them?”
“No!” Thorax gasped. “These ponies have been missing, probably thought dead, we can’t just let them back out there. I… Get me Princess Twilight. Immediately, please.”
Twilight felt sick to her stomach.
She had already been feeling paranoid after her unceremonious capture at the hooves of the changelings, and the news Thorax served as little reassurance. Still, her eyes flicked anxiously from side to side as their new multi-colored allies escorted her down the tunnels of the now-revealed changeling outpost.
“I’m truly, truly sorry about this,” Thorax said for the umpteenth time.
“Thorax, it isn’t your fault,” Starlight replied. “This wasn’t happening under your watch, and you had no idea it was going on.”
“Still, I should have suspected,” the new king muttered, ears flicking in irritation. “Regardless, it’s my responsibility now.”
They continued down the hall in a tense silence until they reached the notorious “storage room.” Twilight sucked in a breath, counting twelve capsule-like pods scattered and suspended around the room. “Twelve here… I can’t decide if that’s low or high,” she muttered.
“Let’s get it to zero,” Starlight replied, trotting over to the first pod. “There’s some runes on here.”
“Prisoner names, likely,” replied one of their escorts.
Twilight squinted at them. “Do you have any other records?”
“They were unfortunately destroyed shortly after Chrysalis’ defeat by some of her loyalists,” came the answer. “All we have are their names.”
“Twilight, how do we handle this?” Thorax asked.
“I… don’t know,” Twilight admitted. “This isn’t an easy situation. You have to understand, the pony population is still largely suspect of you. Having this come to light isn’t going to help with that at all.”
Thorax flicked his wings. “None of that matters, it isn’t right to just leave them here!”
“Even then, we can’t just set them completely free. We need to be careful, reintegrating these ponies back into society. Especially if some have been here as long as you’ve said.”
“Twilight…”
“Well we can’t just keep them here! Haven’t they suffered enough already?” Thorax cried.
Twilight grimaced at that. “I agree, I’m just saying that we need to be careful with how we–”
“Twilight!”
“What?!”
Starlight didn’t respond. She instead just stared straight ahead at a cocoon, where a small engraving was carved into a piece of wood above it.
Twilight trotted over, eyebrow cocked.
“Look.”
She followed Starlight’s hoof and read the inscription: Macintosh, Bright. Butter, Pear. Farmers.
Twilight blinked slowly. Then, she began to shake. “No,” she said with a strange laugh. “No, that’s not… That isn’t… It can’t…
“Were they someone important?” Thorax asked nervously.
Starlight just stared at him. “You could say that,” she muttered.
“They’re just farmers!” countered the other changeling. “How important could two farmers be?”
“These are Applejack’s parents.”
A hush fell over the cave.
“Oh no. Oh, no no no no,” Thorax whispered as his breathing quickened. “This can’t be happening. The parents of one of the Elements? Here?! What do we do?”
“I… I don’t know,” Starlight said, staring blankly ahead. “We… We need to… I should…”
Twilight stepped forwards, looking up at the cocoon. Her horn began to glow.
“Twilight? What are you–”
A blast of magic hit the cocoon before Starlight could even finish her sentence. The entire cave shook for a second, specks of dust becoming dislodged from the ceiling. Everyone watched in silent terror as two ponies groggily got to their hooves.
“Mrs. Butter… Mr. Mac,” Twilight stammered as she approached them.
The two went still, and everyone held their breaths.
Then, Bright Mac sprang up and punched her in the jaw.
The room was white and sterile: too bright for Pear Butter’s eyes. There was nothing else to look at, though, forcing her to stare at the awful blank walls. Luckily, Bright Mac served as a distinct hue which broke up the room, giving her a brief reprieve from the endless nothing around her.
“Y’all gonna keep hidin’?!” he shouted, pounding on the wall. “We deserve some damn answers! Come out and talk to me!”
“Bright, please calm down,” Pear said with a shiver.
Instantly Bright Mac’s anger melted as he trotted over to wrap her up in a hug. “Now don’t you worry, we’re gonna get outta this.”
“Those things that attacked us,” Pear whispered, “What were they?”
“I dunno, hon. I dunno.”
The door to the room swung open, and both held their breaths.
Twilight entered first, nursing a new purple bruise, followed by Starlight. Bright immediately took a defensive stance, placing himself between Pear and the newcomers.
“An… An alicorn?” Pear’s eyes widened.
Bright gritted his teeth. “Gotta be another trick!”
Twilight lit her horn and the two flinched. In a burst of magic she disappeared, only to re-enter the room a second later with a sheepish smile. “I’m the real deal,” she said sadly. “I’m Princess Twilight, the newest Princess.”
“Wait, wait, wait, newest?” Pear Butter’s eyes widened. “How long have we…”
“I know this is hard,” Twilight said, “but I have to ask you to please be as calm as you can. What I’m about to tell you… It’s not going to be easy to hear.”
Bright Mac huffed, clearly still unconvinced, but relented.
Twilight inhaled deeply. “Um… I’m Princess Twilight, the Princess of Friendship. And… I am truly sorry for what happened to you.”
“What?!” exclaimed Pear Butter. “What happened to us?! Please, just tell us!”
Twilight shuddered, her face turning pale.
“You were attacked,” Starlight cut in. “By some creatures we didn’t even know existed. They captured you.”
Bright Mac swore under his breath.
“We’ve recently made peace with their tribe,” she continued, “and discovered you were being held by some of the… less noble members.” Starlight cleared her throat awkwardly.
Twilight grimaced. “Their leaders are very sorry, they had no idea such an operation was happening.”
“You were captured, and held prisoner for…” Starlight squeezed her eyes shut. “A long time.”
The two farmers were still.
“How long?”
“13 years,” Twilight sputtered.
There was a suffocating silence. “You’re kiddin’,” stammered Bright Mac. “This is some… some cheap trick, ain’t it?”
Starlight winced. “It’s not. I… I truly wish we could have found out about this sooner, then maybe we could have–”
“Our children.” Everyone’s head whipped around when Pear whispered. “Where are our children?”
Twilight perked up a bit. “Oh! Um, they’re still at Sweet Apple Acres! Applejack is–”
“Take me to them.”
“Our children,” whispered Bright Mac as he began to shake. “Oh, Celestia… How old are they now? How many years…”
Twilight and Starlight exchanged a nervous glance. “Mrs. Butter, I’m not sure that’s a great idea,” Starlight began. “We should take the time to prepare them, this kind of news is–”
“Take me to them!” Pear shouted, as Bright Mac began to weep.
“Are they even gonna remember us? Oh, Jackie… Lil’ Mac… Bloom…”
Starlight took a hesitant step back.
Pear Butter snarled, and suddenly lept at her, knocking the unicorn to the ground. “Listen here,” she whispered. “You take me to my foals right this instance, or I swear by Celestia’s mane, I will rip that horn out of your body!”
“Starlight, don’t!” Twilight cried as she flared out her wings.
Overwhelmed with panic, Starlight didn’t reply. Instead, a pink glow enveloped everyone in the room, and in a split second they were gone.
When Granny Smith joined Big Macintosh on the porch, the sun was already beginning to set over the horizon. “You saw that too?”
“Eeyup.”
Granny squinted into the distant treeline. “Don’t like it. Not one bit. Magic like that ain’t ever a good thing.”
“Eenope.”
“Best we find AJ,” Granny muttered. “Who knows what kinda…” She trailed off, noticing something moving down the past quickly. “What in tarnation?”
They were ponies, she quickly realized. The first was a peach-colored mare with a bright orange mane… One that seemed far too familiar.
She felt Mac tense up next to her.
The mare was shouting something, but she was too far away to be heard clearly. But what Mac said could be heard as clear day: “...Ma?”
More ponies began emerging from the clearing, including another one that was far too familiar. Granny squinted harder, wondering if her eyes were playing tricks on her. But the harder she looked, the more she began to realize that the red-maned, yellow-coated stallion was exactly who he looked at. “Wh… Wha…”
“Ma?!” Big Mac charged down the stairs, meeting the mare half way.
“Mac!” Pear Butter threw her hooves around him. “Oh, my son… My boy…”
Mac’s frame began to shake, the stallion trembling as if he were in an earthquake. “But… how?” he whispered. “How?”
“It’s alright baby, I’m here,” Pear whispered. “Oh Celestia… You’ve grown so big!”
“Ma?” Granny Smith felt dizzy. The stallion began charging down the path towards them, kicking up dirt as he ran.
Granny Smith instinctively took a half step back. A twinge of guilt ripped through her heart, though she still wasn’t certain of why. “It ain’t possible,” she whispered. “Gotta be… Gotta be a trick.”
The stallion drew to a clumsy halt before her.
He looked so much different without the hat. But it was still undeniably him. “Ma?” he whispered. “It– It’s me.”
Granny’s knees began to shake.
“Oh!” Apple Bloom perked up and smiled at them. “Howdy! Welcome to Sweet Apple Acres!”
Pear Butter’s smile wavered.
“Granny, you didn’t tell me we were havin’ some guests! Well, more family members are always welcome ‘round the table, ain’t that right?” She blinked, tilting her head. “...Uh, what happened? Why’s Mac cryin’?”
“She don’t remember us,” Pear whispered. “Oh, Celestia, she don’t remember us.”
Bright Mac knelt down in front of Apple Bloom. “Bloomy, it’s us. Your Ma and your Pa. Don’t you remember?”
Apple Bloom blinked again.
Bright reached out to touch her, but she backed away. A twinge of fear began to cloud her eyes. Bright felt the tears beginning to return. He turned to Granny Smith for help, but the elderly mare was clearly still lost in her own thoughts. “Bloom… Do you remember one day, when I took you to see the sunrise? I… I put you on my back, climbed up onto the barn roof and sat there with you in my lap.”
“I…” She furrowed her brow and tried to remember.
“Your Ma was so mad at me,” Bright whispered. “But I saw it in your eyes… I knew that you loved every second of it.”
Apple Bloom furrowed her brow.
“And I remember when I first fed you some flapjacks,” Pear Butter chimed in. “You spat them out and cried for hours.” She laughed quietly, rubbing her eyes. “All you ever wanted to eat was apple sauce.” Pear looked down at her hooves. “Honey… I’m so sorry for everything. All the time we missed… I never got to see you grow up.”
The porch creaked as careful hoofsteps crept towards them. Fear still lingered in her eyes, but bubbling to the surface was a reserved curiosity.
For a second their eyes met.
“It’s really you?” Apple Bloom gasped. “Woah! That’s… That’s awesome!” She dove in to her mother’s arms.
Pear Butter laughed, tears still flowing from her eyes. “It is. I ain’t gonna leave you again.”
“Wait til Scootaloo and Sweetie hear about this! Oh my gosh you haven’t even met them yet! They’re gonna be so excited!” Looking down, Pear felt a twinge of guilt as she saw a cutie mark across Apple Bloom’s flank.
She vaguely remembered talking about ideas with Bright and Granny about how to celebrate their newest daughter’s achievement. But it was a moot point now, she supposed.
“What’s all the ruckus out there?” Everyone froze as Applejack made her way to the front door, mane still slightly wet from her shower. “We got visitors or somethin’?”
Nobody spoke. Words didn’t come to fill the silence, instead letting it fester and grow.
“Honey,” Pear Butter finally mustered.
Applejack stood still.
Slowly, Bright Mac took a step forward.
“NO!”
Everyone flinched as she screamed. In a blur, Applejack surged past the crowd on the porch and tore off through the darkness.
It felt like centuries passed before anyone recovered. Big Mac was the first to move, furrowing his brow and taking a step down the porch.
“Let her go,” Granny Smith muttered. “Ain’t nothin’ we can do for her… Not tonight.”
But Pear Butter and Bright Mac shared a look. Wordlessly, and without waiting for any approval, they followed their daughter into the orchard.
“What if she isn’t there anymore?”
“She will be.”
Pear Butter huffed. “Well, what if they tore down the barn or something?”
“Then they would have built another one.” Bright Mac paused to flash her a reassuring smile. “Apple traditions are rooted in the earth, they don’t get taken out that easy.”
Pear muttered to herself. “But… so much has changed.”
“But she’s still our daughter.”
Pear didn’t answer that. The two continued through the orchard, familiar yet foreign, until they arrived at an agining structure nestled between two hulking apple trees. The door sat slightly ajar, as if to invite them in.
This was a building that Bright’s father had built, many many years before. It used to house most of their food, until they built a newer and bigger barn closer to the homestead. The building had still stuck around after the fact, and the young parents would often bring their foals out to the field in front of it for picnics on the grass.
And Bright Mac knew that young Applejack was almost always asking when they could come out here again. So if his hunch was right…
He pushed open the door and peeked inside. The ladder to the loft had been pulled down, and he could hear a few quiet sniffles from somewhere above. “She’s upset,” Pear whispered. “Maybe we should just leave her alone.”
Bright shook his head. “We’ve left her alone for far too long, Pear. We gotta make this right.”
“But this all feels so… Wrong,” Pear whispered. “Like we’re ghosts, hauntin’ this house.”
“We ain’t hautin’ nothin’. This is our home, nothin’s changed about that.” Bright reached out and squeezed her hoof. “C’mon. AJ needs us.”
He led the way up the ladder. The wood creaked and groaned, but didn’t give out from his weight. Carefully, he looked about the loft, spotting a form huddled in the corner. He hauled himself up and wondered how to approach.
“We’re far apart in every way…”
Bright’s ear twitched as Pear ascended from the ladder behind him.
Pear continued to sing, eyes locked on the quivering form ahead of them. “But you’re the best part of my day…”
Slowly, Applejack looked up with confused, accusing eyes.
“And sure as I breathe the air, I know we are the perfect pair.” Pear smiled and knelt down, Bright right behind her. “Sweetie… It’s us.”
“How?” asked Applejack, voice still raspy.
“Don’t worry about that none right now,” Bright said. “We got all the time in the world to talk.”
“But… But you left! You’ve been gone… for so long!”
Pear sighed. “I know, honey. And we’re sorry for all this. We… We never meant to leave you.”
“But we’re proud of you,” Bright chimed in. “So, so proud of what you’ve done here.”
Pear opened her arms and held her breath. “C’mhere. Lemme give you a hug.”
There was a second of silence. Then, a daughter gasped as she rushed into the waiting arms of her mother and her father, as years and years of separation came crashing down around them.
