Mirror: Book I - Mind

The young unicorn rubbed the sleepiness out of her eyes as she lumbered her way down the flight of stairs, throwing her work bag over her shoulder and onto her back, reaching for the door knob with her telekinetic grasp. She stopped, dimming her horn and strafing to the side as she glanced down the hall and peered into the kitchen space. Plumes of steam from the tea her mother had brewed fogged the windows, only cold, blurry masses of light layering their way into the house. Amethyst took a deep breath to calm herself, and approached the threshold to the kitchen.

“Mom?” She called timidly. “Listen…I know you might be upset about what happened last night.” She searched for her words. “But, no matter what happens, I will always be your daughter. I’ll always do my best, to be somepony that you can be proud to call your own.”

No answer returned to her. For a short while, Amethyst hovered at the kitchen entrance.

“Mom?” She called again, turning into the kitchen. She froze.

The stallion finished his tea, rested the cup to the coaster, and turned to greet her with a gleaming, icy blue gaze.

Mikado.

“A colorful example, indeed.” He rose from the table, approaching the mare. Each step, heavy, booming and pounding. “I expected nothing less.”

“W-What…?” Amethyst stumbled backwards. “What did you do with mom?”

“You should know…” The burly ambassador looked down at her. “Your place is and always will be next to me, Senkō.”

Her body shriveled and her figure stiffened, solid as a rock, shivering like ice. The blinding blue of Mikado’s eyes expanded evermore as he raised a frail, shaky, bony hoof to her face and caressed her cheek. The scent of flowers, wilting, decaying, dead…

Amethyst yelped with fright and jolted awake, gasping for breath as she clutched her covers to her chest, sweat pouring down her face. The next thing the young mare knew, she was back in her room, the morning piercing through her window as she looked around in both fear and wonder. A sharp, stinging sensation rippled along her left, hind hoof, suddenly sending the mare into a lapse of pain and discomfort. The bandage around her wound needed fixing once more.

“Amy, honey!” Derpy called from the bottom of the stairs. “You’re going to be late for work!”

Amethyst swept the sweat from her face and called back. “Be down in a minute~!”

Senkō? Her mind recalled. Where have I heard that name before?

The sun strode steadily across the clear blue sky, its radiance dancing across the green of the fields and the ever growing hues of yellow and orange dotting the trees. Not a bird, buzz, nor disturbance of any kind bumbled through the air, and there was not a single cloud to behold. Then, the unmistakable shape of two, broad and bulbous humps squished together hovered aimlessly yet slowly across the sky. It came to a steady chug and an abrupt halt, as though the rowing of a boat were being slowed by its oars.

“I get that we’re trying to let her know where we’re at…” Cskie muttered begrudgingly. “But did we reallyhave to go with this?”

“Nice one, Skies.” Oskie chuckled.

“That wasn’t a pun.” The mare socked her partner in the shoulder.

“Ouch…” Oskie rubbed his bruise. “It was the best I could think of, alright? Who knew that staring at tight, silky, Wonderbolts uniforms all day could make a mare so interested in looking at bu-”

“Quiet!” Blossomforth hissed, yanking her friends beneath the cover of the cloud. “Somepony’s coming this way.”

“No, wait-” Cloud Chaser raised her sights. “It’s her.”

The rest of the weather pegasi popped their heads out from beneath tufts of white, fluffy clouding, eyeing the dot in the far distance as it grew larger with every second. She thought better than to zip across the skies at her usual, intense velocity of flying, lest she leave a rainbow trail in her wake. The young pegasus drew near and sprawled out her wings to accommodate her landing, kicking up clumps of cloud as she rested all four hooves to the surface of their makeshift vessel in the sky.

“Er, nice cover…?” Rainbow Dash commented.

“Told you she’d like it.” Oskie nudged Cskie’s side.

“So?” Cloud Chaser started. “Did you get it?”

“Oh, I got it alright.” The rainbow pegasus shuddered, fluffing her wings. “You guys wouldn’t believe what I had to go through to get this for you.”

“-And we’ll name the next one Zephyr Breeze Jr. 3, and the next one Zephyr Breeze Jr. 4, and the next one Zephyr Breeze Jr. 5…”

“I’m sure he won’t be much longer, dearie.” Mrs. Shy hovered over a plate of pastries. “Lemon cookies?”

It had been twenty minutes since Mr. Shy left to rummage through his garage, and Zephyr was already into volume twelve of his “Future with Rainbow Dash” scrapbook.

“I thought you had Wonderbolt practice today?” Oskie wondered.

“The cap was a little stiff about it, like most things, but I eventually slipped by.” Rainbow managed, searching through her saddle bags. “I just hope this won’t trigger any bad vibes with your own guys’ captain.”

“Sunshower is in enough hot water as it is, it’s time we take some responsibility under our own wings.” Cloud Chaser nodded, turning to her allies. “What we do for her now is what we do in secret. Blossomforth, the bits.”

The fluffy-white pegasus craned her neck beneath her wing and produced a decently sized purse, brimming and jingling with coins.

“Don’t bother.” Rainbow held up a hoof, shaking her head. “Honestly, it’s been a while since I’ve seen a bunch’a weather pegasi as loyal as you guys are. Come to think of it, you’re the only bunch’a weather pegasi I’ve seen act so loyal to their captain. You guys deserve every bit and every ounce of help you can get.”

Without another beat of hesitation, the pegasus unfurled her wing and presented the item of retrieval unto the small flock. It was but a single, tiny tuft of cloud, trapped inside of a tightly enclosed glass jar. The little, fragile mass of cotton white hovered perfectly in the center of its space within its container, looking all but particularly interesting to a certain, dull pegasus.

“It’s…a cloud.” Oskie observed. “How is a little cloud supposed to help us keep our jobs?”

“We move clouds for a living.” Cskie grumbled.

“What makes this cloud different from any other cloud?” The colt questioned further.

“Not just any cloud, but a factory cloud.” Cloud Chaser explained. “Raw, unprocessed water vapor, not a spec of the outside world to taint it. With this, we can prove that clouds are capable of holding ten times more the precipitation than they usually shed.”

“So you’re telling me,” Oskie started again, “we’re going to save ours and our boss’ hides…with a cloud?”

“For the last time, we move clouds for a living.” Cskie gritted her teeth.

“You mean the same clouds that got us into this mess to begin with?” Blossomforth added. “That’s what I wanna know.”

“C’mon, pegasi, let’s focus.” Cloud Chaser rallied. “We still don’t know the date of the trial, but for the time being we’re going to need to store this somewhere so that we can bust it out at a moment’s notice. Each of you may see this little cloud in a different perspective, but I have full faith that it’s going to be crucial to our survival as a team.”

Rainbow Dash cautiously peered over the edge of their meeting spot, eyeing the road beneath them as a familiar, lanky figure hustled his way across the dirt path below. Her eyes widened with a hint of surprise, her wings twitching in reflex, and her attention was drawn from the other pegasi.

“Miss Rainbow Dash, it would do our hearts good if you could at least take a portion of the bits we offered-”

“Glad to help.” The pony leapt, spreading her wings. “Gotta dash!”

And the weather team was left to their own wisdom, the cloud within the jar resting calmly upon Cloud Chaser’s hoof. Oskie approached to take another gander, tapping the glass as though tiny fish were swimming within. Cskie raised a limb and swatted the colt away.

Rainbow Dash dived into her descent and leveled herself across the ground, scraping her hooves across the earth as she trailed infront and around the boy in mid-jog. The human skidded to a halt, plumes of dust swirling all about, and the single beat of the rainbow pony’s wing revealed a tight, knowing grin stretching across her lips.

“Lookie what we have here.” The pegasus cackled. “Running? Without my instruction? I’m proud of you, trainee. You’ve outdone yourself-”

The dust withered away, and the boy’s face was further revealed.

“Ooh…” Rainbow winced. “Maybe a little too much.”

“Oh, this?” David pointed to his face. “I’m just lucky to have my ribs intact.”

A small bandage was taped over his nose, dark bruises laid beneath his left eye, and a thin scar stretched its way from ear to chin. The boy gave her a haphazard smile, if anything to compensate for the sorry sight of his complexion.

“So…?” The pegasus waited. “Who’d you piss off this time?”

“Does rodeo games ring a bell?”

“I heard about what happened to Apple Bloom, but this is news to me.” She fluttered and surveyed his face. “Really makes me think you’re just prone to getting your ass beat no matter which side you’re on. Sorry it had to happen.”

“Why should you apologize? It’s not like I’d ask for one anyways.” His hands fell to his hips. “This wasn’t about me to begin with, and it never was. I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to figure that out, and probably even at the worst of times, too. I’m letting everypony know that I intend to start doing my best, and that starts with Apple Bloom.”

“And you think running around outside is gonna help?” Rainbow cocked a brow.

“What else am I supposed to do? As far as I’m concerned, you wouldn’t have any problems with it, coach.” He mocked, sighing and recomposing himself. “We’re all playing the waiting game here, so I guess the best we can do is keep ourselves occupied.”

“How ‘bout you stop pretending you’re not a victim?” Rainbow tried.

“Huh?” The boy looked back, dumbfounded.

“Trust me, pal, I’ve been where you’re at more times than you and me combined can count.” Dash trotted around him. “I know what you’re thinking. If you stop acting like such a little filly and buck up for once, maybe then you can prove to yourself that you’re not as useless as you think you are. Well, I got a reality check for ya’, chump. You only think you’re useless because you think that other ponies think you are, and then you think that other ponies think you’re useless because you think that they think you think these things, you think?”

“…” David appeared on the verge of an aneurysm. “What…?”

“Here’s another reality check, you’re just overthinking it.”

“Clearly.”

“The bottom line is, nopony cares!” She stomped a hoof for emphasis. “And if that’s the case, then why should you?”

David crossed his arms. “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

“Is that what you really think?” The pegasus quizzed. “Or were you told that at some point in your life, and you’ve gone on thinking that it was true, up until now?”

Once again, the boy was thrown into another spell of staring, looking over the mare with several levels of perplexity. He scrunched his eyes shut and shook his head as he began to pace about, delivering one double-take after another to the rainbow pony.

“Since when did the writers give you back your brain?” He grumbled and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m trapped in a world full of talking, pastel-colored ponies the size of house cats, it’s not like your supposed to have any psychological drive over others, or whatever the hell it is you’re trying to make me say or do.” He went on. “As far as I can tell, this is supposed to be the part of the story where I selflessly give myself to another person because some sort of travesty has befallen them. Just in case you forgot, some sort of travesty did befall another person, and as long as that’s going on my attitude about it isn’t going to change anytime soon.”

“That!” Rainbow pounced and pushed a hoof into his chest. “That right there is what I’m talking about.”

David winced and clutched his chest with a whimper.

“Oh, right. Sorry…” The pegasus recoiled, and continued. “Believe it or not, you’re acting just as stubborn as Applejack is, and I’m willing to bet the two of you are rocking the same boat here.”

“The heck does that mean?” He rubbed his pecs.

“Sooner or later, you’re going to butt heads over the same stupid thing for the same stupid reasons, and then you’ll realize you’re in a worse place than where you started. So, just relax for a few days, would ya’?” She persuaded. “I’ll even lay off the training sessions, but only because you need to rest up after what ‘freckles’ did to you.”

He side-eyed her, his expression askew to the funny nickname. “What do you plan to do?”

Rainbow Dash sighed begrudgingly, shaking her head and whipping her tail. “She’s a good friend, one of the best I got…but I can’t just let this slide by so easily.” There was a pause, and the pony opened her wings. “I’m gonna go talk to her.”

David raised a forearm to shield his eyes from the plumes of dust, but shot the other arm forward and nabbed the pegasus by the tail just in the nick of time. Strands of multicolored horse hair filled his grasp as a sharp yelp filled the air.

“What’s the big idea?!” Hovering, tail in the boy’s hand, the pony snarled back. “You wanna run fifty laps instead?”

“Can’t let you do that.” He fanned the dust away. “I promised Twilight I wouldn’t do anything out of my league, and that includes stopping other ponies from speaking in my stead.”

“If Twilight thinks she’s gotta stick her big, princess nose into everypony’s business, she’s gonna go through me first.”

“Fluttershy’s already tried talking to Applejack, I was there.” He nodded. “What makes you think you’ll do any better?”

Her eyes fell to the earth, and slowly so did her hooves, as the beat of her wings feathered her descent and the pony searched the grass for answers. Applejack was a very close friend to her, no doubt about it, and they had been as such ever since the winged pony and future Wonderbolt decided to move to Ponyville. Flashbacks of festival games, apple cider, and a freckle-faced pony too damn stubborn to let the hoof wrestling match go filled her mind. A beat later, and another pony filled the young flier’s mind. If there was one pony Rainbow Dash had sworn to never lose, to never drift apart from, it was undoubtedly Fluttershy. The pegasus most certainly wasn’t prepared to lose two friends in one day.

Seconds later, the whirring of little wings and a filly in full trot filled their ears. Rainbow and the boy looked back down the trail to find two familiar figures closing the distance between them. Scootaloo sped ahead on her scooter, veering to the side and sliding in for a skid halt, no doubt determined to impress her idol standing right before her. However, as soon as she threw her helmet off, she fluttered so high she managed at best six feet off the ground, hovering before the boy’s face with frenzy and excitement filling her eyes.

“Mr. David, Mr. David, we’ve been looking all over for you!” The little pegasus panted, resting her hooves to his shoulders. “We’ve got something we want you to take to Apple Bloom.”

“Wait, what?” The boy blinked, stumbling back.

“It’s a ‘get well soon’ card, but like, a really really big one.” Scootaloo finally turned, acknowledging her fellow pegasus. “Hey Rainbow Dash.”

“Hey, sport.” Dash grinned back. “What’s up?”

“Y’wanna sign Apple Bloom’s ‘get well soon’ card?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” She obliged. “Where’s it at?”

As though in answer, a scroll mimicking the rolling of a carpet wheeled down the path and met the pegasus’ hooves, a good chunk yet to be unraveled. Sweetie Belle stood at the other end with an innocent smile, eliciting wary gazes between the boy and the mare.

“Okay, slow down, kiddos.” David carefully rested Scootaloo back to her scooter. “What’s this letter thing all about?”

“It’s a collaboration letter, addressed to Apple Bloom for when she wakes up.” Sweetie explained as she sauntered up, coiling the letter in her magic. “We started at Miss Cheerilee’s schoolhouse, but might’ve gotten a little bit carried away when Diamond Tiara asked to take it to her father’s business to sign.”

“Isn’t it cool? Almost all of Ponyville is in on it now.” Scootaloo squealed, prancing about. “Apple Bloom’s gonna be so happy when she wakes up!”

David maintained a straight face, Rainbow displaying a similar demeanor, as the boy looked around and scratched his head and the pegasus nervously fluffed her wings.

“She is going to wake up sometime soon…right?” Scootaloo traded a worried glance to her friend. Sweetie Belle simply looked back with regret.

“Yes.” David answered, kneeling down. “Yes she will, and she’s going to be very happy to know that her friends didn’t give up on her.”

Sweetie was the first to look back up. “It’s okay, David. You don’t have to sugarcoat it for us.” She told him. “We know the situation may be a lot more worse than we even realize. After all, we’re only children, how’re we supposed to know anything?” She sighed, eyeing the scroll with bleary eyes. “Maybe this letter wasn’t such a good idea anywa-”

“I’ll sign it.” He blurted.

“Y-You will?” The little ponies looked up.

“I’ll sign it, and I’ll take it to her.” David nodded confidently. “Don’t you worry, girls. Apple Bloom is going to be okay and everything will go back to the way it should be. I promise.”

The blue glow of her horn encapsulated the plaque which read “Amethyst Star” proudly propped up upon her desk, and slowly slid over the edge into the cardboard box with her other belongings. The young unicorn exhaled with a deep sigh of remorse and regret as she picked up one possession after another, clearing her desk of its contents to make room for the next, lucky mare who would get to sit in Amethyst’s place. Her fellow employees, or rather former employees, eyed her with varying amounts of disdain and suspicions. They knew the kid wasn’t ready for this kind of work, or this kind of life, but they quite honestly hadn’t expected her to break away this soon. Some would say they were pleased to see her go, and others felt a notion of pity for the poor filly, but Amethyst could see past the lies. In the end, she never truly got along with the other office workers, and neither did they give any effort to get along with her. She knew she didn’t belong, she never belonged.

With her final task in Town Hall only a hoof and a trot away, the young unicorn looked warily upon the double doors which led into Mr. Mikado’s office. The flare of her levitation hesitated upon the book resting in her saddle bag. The wound on her hoof winced with displeasure, stifling the mare’s senses if only for a moment. She hadn’t even realized somepony was trying to talk to her.

“Miss Amethyst, are you alright?” The donkey asked.

The unicorn blinked and looked to her side. “Matilda…?”

“Well now, you remembered my name.” Matilda returned a smile, nodding comfortably.

“Well if you ask me, a mule’s face isn’t hard to forget.” Amethyst’s eyes bulged from her skull as she slapped both hooves over her mouth. “I-I’m so sorry! Did I say that out loud? I didn’t mean to-”

A hearty guffaw filled the office space, several of the workers looking over as Matilda laughed to the ceiling and swept a tear from her eye. “It pleases my heart to see you haven’t changed, Miss Star. You always cracked the funniest jokes, even as a young filly. My husband would be pleased to hear a few, it’d do him some good to finally get a smile across his face.”

“Y-Yeah, I guess so…” Amethyst rubbed the back of her head. I forgot how much this donkey likes to talk. She glowered internally.

“I must admit, it surprises me to see you here.” Matilda returned. “You must be doing pretty well for yourself after all.”

“Oh, well I was.” Amethyst pouted, quickly fixing her childish demeanor. “I mean-! The truth is, I just hoofed in my letter of resignation this morning, so that means today is my last day.”

“Oh dear, is that so?” Matilda looked on with concern. “You must’ve worked so hard for this job. As a matter of fact, I remember just a couple years back when everypony was at the after party for my husband’s and I’s wedding, and not a single one of the recipients even batted an eye in your direction. You went above and beyond to put everything together, and swore that one day you would become Ponyville’s top organizer.”

“Hehe, yeah…” Amethyst brushed her mane aside. “I guess I was pretty ambitious back then.”

“I do hate to prod, but what made you change your mind?”

“A few personal reasons, I suppose.” The mare shaded.

“Well, don’t let me interfere any more than I should-”

“No, it’s just-” Amethyst felt herself open up, looking back to the donkey. “I guess I never realized that I don’t belong somewhere until I actually tried to fit in. It’s a harsh realization, but a truth nonetheless, and I have no choice but to accept that fact. For whatever regrets that might fill my past, I know that I’ll eventually make peace with in the future.” The young mare blinked again with surprise, looking around the office space and back to her conversationalist. “Sorry to get so gloomy, it’s been a rough week.”

“Don’t you worry, honey, it’ll all get better. I’m sure of it.” Matilda delivered a small nod.

Amethyst traded back a similar nod as though it were the end of their little reunion, but Matilda halted at the sight of the tome hovering upon the young unicorn’s desk. She hadn’t even realized that it was resting there until the donkey returned with a curious set of eyes.

“Is that Koumanese?” Matilda asked.

Amethyst froze as the dots connected in her mind. Koumanese. She recalled.

“You can read that?” She wondered.

“Hardly a stroke of it, but my husband just might.” Matilda mentioned. “I couldn’t help but rummage around his old knick-knacks the other day, and I had come across a few scrolls he picked up while traveling through Neighsia. I thought I had recognized those symbols from somewhere.”

Amethyst looked to Ronin’s book and back to Matilda, weighing upon her options.

“My meeting for tonight has been canceled, since nopony decided to show up…but perhaps you’d be willing to join us for tea?” The donkey proposed.

The young unicorn’s sights slowly hovered across the room and landed upon Mr. Mikado’s double doors. She knew for a fact that the ambassador could read whatever contents lie within Ronin’s book, but was that really the smartest thing to do? A rivaly was suited against those two, the mare had seen it for herself. Just why exactly is Mikado here? She wondered. Why was Ronin here? With quiet realization, Amethyst began to wonder just why exactly this book had returned to her hooves in the first place. With a slow nod, her eyes returned to Matilda.

“Sure.” She accepted. “That would be nice.”

The orange glow of the evening struck through the foggy windows of the cozy little shack on the road side, a mere trot and a skip away from Ponyville. Dust hovered over several family tomes, scrapbooks and herilooms strewn about the living space and resting neatly upon the coffee table, the better part of the collection belonging to Matilda. Embers flickered and danced in the fire place tucked into the eastern wall of the living area, wherein the mahogany mantle above seemed to pique young Amethyst’s interest the most. It reminded her sweetly of the pictures in her own home, framed photos resting delicately upon a table in chronological order. Amethyst was never in the first picture, and the reason was clear as day. Did I ever ask mom where I came from? She wondered.

The sizzling of the kiln in the kitchen space hushed and flickered out as Matilda poured three cups of tea accordingly and ventured for the living room. Cranky sat quietly in his rocking chair eyeing Ronin’s book with several amounts of precision, muttering and grumbling all the while. Leaving the old donkey to his progress, the wife sauntered over and hoofed the unicorn her cup of tea.

“Thank you.” Amethyst responded politely, taking the cup into her magic. “Thank you for accepting me into your home, I mean.”

“Don’t mention it, honey. It’s the least I can do.” She responded.

“Cranky sure does have a lotta’ gadgets and knick-knacks, huh?”

“He’s been all over the world, and has seen quite a lot.” Matilda quietly sipped her tea. “Sometimes even more than he’s willing to tell.”

In that moment, Amethyst’s eyes hovered over a peculiar product upon the mantle. A pair of rusty, worn down shackles rested atop the shelf, with a small photo of what appeared to be an elderly donkey resting behind it. The donkey appeared tired, beaten, malnourished even, and with it the shackles emanated a ghostly, unnerving vibe.

“That’s Cranky’s grandfather.” Matilda informed quietly. “To this day I still don’t know the old donkey’s name, mainly because Cranky refuses to tell me. I find it best to not mention it to him.”

“What happened to him?” Amethyst wondered.

“Cranky’s grandfather was enslaved.” Matilda explained. “And those were his shackles.”

The unicorn slowly looked back to the iron resting upon the mantle, realizing that the splashes of rust covering the rings might not be rust after all, at least not all of it. A tiny lump formed in the young mare’s throat as her sights were traded between the image of the donkey and the broken shackles laying before her. Matilda went on.

“It was during the enslavement period in Neighsia, when mules were captured and sent to work in foreign lands. Some donkeys had fallen victim to these acts as well. Cranky has only told me bits and pieces, but he says that his grandfather’s family had ran into a caravan, and they just so happened to be a couple mules short. Whether it was by mistake or the traders simply didn’t care, each reason was just as cruel as the last.”

“The enslavement and rebellion period of Neighsia…” Amethyst vividly recalled. “I don’t remember much, but from what I heard Equestria had very little to do with the whole ordeal.”

“And perhaps that was for the best, too.” Matilda admitted.

Amethyst blinked twice, surprised. “But, we could have saved all of them. Equestria is a powerful kingdom, perhaps even the most powerful in all of Equis.”

“Would they have done any better here than they had over there? Perhaps some would, but I believe that most others would be bound to the very fate they were trying to escape.” Matilda closed her eyes, letting a small sigh go. “It’s a harsh truth, and a depressing one at that. It’s not that people were born to be enslaved, but rather, some were born to enslave.”

In order to live the lives that we do, others must live the lives that they do. That is how the world works. And as the words of her long gone partner echoed dimly in the recesses of her mind, a strange connection between that and the talk with Matilda settled deeply in the pit of the young, ambitious mare’s heart. Somewhere deep down, Amethyst knew that she had a part to play in all of this, that her destiny might in fact lay elsewhere, and not at the corner of some cubicle tucked away in an office.

Suddenly, a hearty laugh filled the living room, as though Cranky had come upon a moment of eureka. Both Amethyst and Matilda jumped to his guffaw and watched as he settled down in a fit of chuckling and chortling, struggling to get his next words across to the ladies.

“Well fry me noodles and call me Doodle! Little girl, you’re gonna get a buck and a kick outta’ this!” He laughed a little more.

“What?” She hurried over. “What’s it say?”

“Says here you’re supposed to be this little colt’s ‘princess’ or something other. He wants ya’ to come back home to his village so you two can live happily ever after.” He breathed and swept his eyes. “Do you remember when we were young, sweetie? I know I do, now.”

“Oh, Doodle.” Matilda frowned, nudging her husband. “Tell the young mare what it really says.”

“It’s not like I can be bothered to remember every little bit o’ Kouma, this kid’s horn writing is all over the place anyhow.” Cranky grumbled on. “The kid wants a princess, that’s all I can tell ya’.”

“Princess?” Amethyst drew back, flustered and blushing. “Nope, you’re wrong. You’re just making up some sort of fairy tale.”

“Don’t believe me? Take it to somepony else who can read it, then.” Cranky tossed the book onto the table.

“I don’t understand.” Amethyst shook her head. “Why would Ronin write something like that?”

“Well, he wouldn’t’ve come all the way from Neighsia for nothin’.” Cranky prodded. “Who is this Ronin fella’ anyhow?”

“He…” Amethyst looked past the window, to the sunset glow of the outdoors. “He was my friend. Ronin and I were the ones who tracked down Rose Luck after what she had been doing to other ponies’ gardens all around town. I’ll admit, he put a lot more effort into the investigation than I did, and I never did properly thank him for it. As a matter of fact, he never even told me why he was in Ponyville to begin with. It’s almost like he was…” The young mare paused, her heart skipped a beat. “Like he was looking for something, or somepony.”

As though gravity’s pull had influenced her so, her head tilted and her eyes landed upon Ronin’s notebook resting atop the collection of family tomes stacked upon the coffee table. As far as Amethyst knew, she had never met her mother, neither her father. There was the slim and smallest of chances, she felt, that she had lost somepony who could’ve helped her find those missing pieces. To solve the puzzle, and complete the pattern.

A knock arrived at the door, clicking the unicorn out of her thoughts. Matilda swiveled and approached with a quick glance through the window before turning the knob and swinging the door aside. A bright smile from the donkey met with a rather gloomy looking mare on the other end of the threshold.

“Good evening, ma’am, would this be the Doodle’s residence?” The mare’s voice came.

Cranky sunk in his seat, muttering obscenities over the name calling.

“That would be correct, miss…?” Matilda waited.

“Rose Luck.” There was a pause.

Amethyst hovered in the living room space, timidly eyeing her surroundings.

“Of course.” Matilda acknowledged. “You must be here to fill in for your community services?”

“Make sure you trim the hedges!” Cranky barked over his shoulder.

Matilda delivered a sigh and stepped aside. “Would you like to have a little tea before getting started?”

Rose Luck was almost enthusiastic to oblige, but the sight of the lavender unicorn hovering inside formed a strong stop in her throat. In a single beat the scarlet maned earth mare’s demeanor did a one-eighty. Taking a step back she gulped nervously, her eyes darting from side to side.

“A-Actually, I um-” Rose quavered. “I had just come to tell you that they got the date wrong, and I’ll be here first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Rose Luck?” Amethyst approached boldly.

The earth pony shrunk back, eyeing the ground intensely.

“I know you want to forget about what happened, and believe me so do I.” The unicorn persuaded. “But you and I both know this isn’t going to end unless you tell me what really happened.”

Slowly, Rose’s gaze drew back up, bleary green eyes staring back into Amethyst’s purple sights.

“Well…” The earth pony sniffed, and nodded. “Why don’t we settle it over that tea?”

The road to the hospital housed a single mare calmly trotting her way up the path, the sun shedding off its last strikes of light for the evening moments before touching the horizon. Though there was still much more to do on the farm, the earth pony sufficed in the work she had done thus far, and set her mind solely on her kin currently resting within Ponyville General. Everypony she had passed by in town knew by now where she was headed, and for that they decided not to say much, or better yet not say anything at all. They seemed to understand not to get between a mare and her family, especially after seeing the example she portrayed onto that poor boy. It was a little strange, the silence that emanated all around her. It almost seemed to reflect that of a certain neglectful nature the ponies showed to the very Equerry of their little town.

Just as she had wished yesterday, and the day before that, Applejack hoped that this would be the third and final trot to seeing her sister. The sight of her younger laying in a hospital bed, hooked up to machines and doo-hickeys, a beep and a breath every now and then was beginning to become too much to bare. Tonight, she would return to her own bed, to her own home, with not a worry nor fear in the world, and Applejack was intent on doing everything she could think to reach towards such a possibility. The pony supposed for a short moment, as she looked up to the streaks of purple and orange stretching across the sky, that this was how her parents must have felt every second of every day. The weight of her setson hung low, shadowing over her eyes.

There was a rustle in the bushes, and her sights flicked to the side. A burly, mass of red emerged from the treeline, the familiar figure of her brother dusting off the bristle and bramble from his hide. Big Macintosh. Although the stallion had been working late to catch up on the missed out chores, he was a relentless worker at that, and it only gave him the opportunity to take the shortcut through the orchard and to the hospital. He whipped his deep blonde mane and gnawed the straw in his jaw, soon catching sight of his sister a mere trot away. Though Applejack was reluctant, Macintosh braved himself and sauntered over to the younger mare with a wary yet confident stride, the same straight face he always kept across his complexion. Applejack rubbed her shoulder with one hoof, looking downcast, and finally came eye to eye with the big, brolic stud. Macintosh blinked, and sighed, and the two stood like that for a longer while.

“Well?” The sister dared. “Go on, say it.”

The brother blinked again. “Y’know I don’t say much.” He slowly answered.

“Then…what ya’ gotta keep me in suspense, for?” She whinnied, swinging her head away. “I know I done wrong, and I don’t deserve your company right now. As a matter o’ fact, I don’t deserve nopony’s company.”

“I didn’t come over here to guilt ya’ and make ya’ feel like the bad pony.” Macintosh spoke as though for a moment it were true, but he pushed on. “I came to talk to ya’ cuz your my sister.”

Slowly, the farm pony looked back towards the stallion, focusing on him with bleary eyes. There was a quiet moment longer, just brother and sister standing in the front lawn of the hospital, and a still breeze passed by before Mac thought carefully over his next words.

“When ma and pa left that morning, I never woulda’ guessed that it would be the last time we seen ‘em. None of us did.” He took a pause, breathing and glancing. “We put together a whole ‘welcome home party’ in the barn, and worked the farm till our hides caked with mud and the dirt come crawlin’ up our nostrils. An’ when ma and pa didn’t come home that night…I dunno if’n you ever seen a grown colt cry, but that woulda’ been the time. I was ‘bout ready to quit, Jack. I wanted to give up.” His eyes glazed over his sister, calmly and respectfully. “But then I seen you. Even though I knew you was just holdin’ it all in, you didn’t shed no tear nor give no whinny. Ya’ just kept workin’. Ya’ knew what ya’ had to do, and ya’ did it. I know why you do some of the things you do, Jack.”

“There’re some things I ain’t proud of, Mac.” Applejack sniffled.

The weight of her brother felt closer than ever, and the stallion hefted his neck over her shoulder, nuzzling her and offering his embrace. “We all make mistakes.” He said quietly. “But that dudn’t mean we’re a bad pony. It’s just an opportunity to prove our courage.”

Applejack felt her hooves lifting and wrapping around her elder brother’s neck, tightly returning the affection her kin had offered so selflessly, so unconditionally. Every little bit, ounce, and fiber of her being wanted to squeeze away that horrible, sick feeling in her stomach, the plague of remorse and regret. Alas, no matter how hard she tried the illness rooted itself deeper, and had seeded itself to the pit of her heart. In her fret of never finding a proper cure, the smallest of whimpers escaped her lungs as shallow words followed after.

“I’m just…so, so scared for our little Apple Bloom.” She shook and shivered. “I don’t wanna lose her, Mac. Not like mama and papa.”

“If it makes ya’ feel any better…” The stag started. “I seen you take after our parents the most, outta’ all of us.”

It got a small chuckle out of the earth mare, a forced one at that. Perhaps he was right…

“Now, c’mon.” Macintosh parted, leading his sister down the road. “Let’s go see our lil’ sister.”

The farm pony’s frown slowly faded, and was traded for that of a content and grateful smile.

And that grateful smile blinked back to a frown at the flick of a tail, and a mean one at that. Applejack found herself glaring across the room, past the figure of her little sister laying in the hospital bed, staring daggers at the very visitor who dared setting another foot anywhere near her family. The boy sat hunched over on the small chair at the far end of the room, looking everywhere but the mare’s eyes, and Macintosh observed the tension of the room with slow yet understanding speculation.

“Y’got a death wish, circus show?” Applejack sneered.

The boy failed to respond.

“Cuz’ if I were a lion, you’d be jumping through this hoop ya’ call my jaws-”

“’Nuff, Jack.” Her brother huffed. “Can’t ya’ see the boy come here to do the same thing we come to do?”

“Not with him around, ah’ ain’t.”

Finally, David sighed and pushed himself up. “If you want me to leave, I’ll leave-”

“Eee-nope!” Mac puffed his chest, waving his hoof down. “You stay for as long as ya’ like. Any bit o’ company from anypony is always welcome, no matter who it might be. Ain’t that right, Applejack?”

The sister clenched her teeth and held back a sneer, as to not get back on her brother’s bad side only moments after having apologized to him in the middle of the hospital’s front field. She turned her eyes briefly to the boy, whom dared another look her way and blinked in the most sympathetic manner he could muster. Quickly, his eyes returned to the little figure resting in the bed, and Mac turned with another huff. Fairly satisfied that the boy had returned to his seat, he mosied for the door and spoke over his shoulder.

“I trust y’all will play nice while I’m gone?” He asked.

David threatened to stand again, and Applejack started after him.

“Where in the hay y’think you’re goin’?” She splayed her hooves. “Ya’ just got here!”

“Get some water…” The stallion answered, a little shy. “Stal’s gotta stay hydrated n’ all.”

Lest another word escape her mouth, Big Mac slipped around the door and seemingly escaped through the crack much too slender for a pony his size. The door clicked shut, and Applejack gave a hearty ha-rumph, mumbling little curses beneath her breath as her tail swished side to side and her rump found her seat. She stifled another snort, and remembered that the most important thing was the pony laying on the bed in front of her at this very moment. David crawled past a nervous gulp and returned to his pose on the chair, elbows to his knees and hands clasped tightly beneath his nose.

Meanwhile, Big Mac’s eyes shrunk to pinpricks as he realized what he had just done. He quietly damned himself for using his little sister’s unconscious presence to work as a peace keeper between the boy and his other, crazy, not-so-unconscious sister. Alas, this was the only way he sought that these two might finally come to some agreement. If anything, it was a start.

The kettle returned from the stone fire in the kitchen and hovered above the cup of tea with wisps of steam rising from the spout, pluming into rolling puffs as the sweet, hot chamomile swirled and filled to the brim. Amethyst flared her horn and raised the cup to Rose Luck’s hooves, a small gesture to encourage the young florist in the details she was determined to utter. In a strange sort of way, that little note of kindness made the young investigator feel as though her partner was here with her now, that little bit of modesty that she showed having been something of his own. The earth pony blinked gratefully to the younger mare and blew over the surface of the tea a few times before taking her first sip. The cup rested back down to the coaster, and Rose started with a lengthy sigh.

“I suppose it’s too late to admit that I wasn’t thinking about the repercussions, when I had did what I had done?” She sulked briefly, and continued. “But let’s face it, I was desperate. I had nowhere else to go, nothing more I could do. Of course I would resort to ruining what others had worked hard for, all for my own benefit. And…it sickens me.” Her gaze fell to the floor. “Sometimes, you get so caught up in trying to save something that you just end up destroying it.”

“You did it because you were trying to save your shop, right?” Amethyst queried. “You wanted to protect your livelihood.”

“And for what, only to end up worse off?” Rose shook her head. “At this point, I don’t even know what I want anymore. I’m not even sure if I want forgiveness, I don’t trust that it’ll lead me back to the life I had before all of this had happened.”

“Maybe it won’t.” Matilda began. “But, no doubt it’s a good place to start. Whether it be from you or from somepony else, a little bit of love and understanding has got to come from both sides.”

There was a card resting upon the bouquet of flowers on the bedside table, sprawled out and put on display for anypony curious enough to take a look. Well over three-hundred signatures and good-natured messages had managed to squeeze into the final result of the card addressed to Apple Bloom, complete with little insignia’s of cutie marks, decorations, and not to mention Spike’s contribution of gem glitter littering the better part of the parchment. That was the last time any crusader would think to take any paper into Twilight’s library when she was in the middle of one of her “organizing sessions.” Applejack strained her sights at the card for a short while, but alas she would not wander over to get a closer look. The table was on David’s side, after all. All the farm mare could think to do now was to lower her head and mumble little affirmations of hope to her younger resting in the bed.

“Little Bloom…I’m so sorry.” She breathed to calm herself. “I shoulda’ been there for ya’. Your big sister knows better than to let a lil’un like you wander. I shoulda’ been protectin’ ya’ like I always have, ever since Ma and Pa left us…And for that, I’m sorry.”

“Careful…” The boy mumbled. “I saw her ear flicker.”

“What, huh?!” Applejack jolted, scanning her sister intensely.

Alas, the young pony did not move, all except for the slow rise and fall of her little chest. Applejack shot a nasty snarl to an apologetic looking David, his hands splayed and a strange wiggle over his lips. Did she really move? Was he joking?

“Consarn it!” She barked. “I oughta’ buck you in the face next time around!”

“Easy, it was only a joke-” David’s face fell into his hands. “I mean-! I get it, now’s not the time for horseplay, but there’s no reason for us to sulk and mope around all the time, right?”

“That’s rich, comin’ from you.”

“Or argue.” He argued.

Applejack raised a brow.

“Okay look, what I meant was…” He ran a hand through his hair, reconsidering his words. “What I meant to imply was that Apple Bloom might not like it when you talk to her like that. Like uh…” He shrugged. “…a little filly.”

Applejack’s brow cocked higher. “She is a lil’ filly.”

David glanced the little pony’s ears again. Reflexes, reflexes! He warned himself.

“That may be true.” He agreed, scanning his mind. “But…she’s brave, too. She’s smart, talented, loves to help out her friends, and knows how to keep her head in the game when situations go south.”

David slowly wiped a hand over his face in response to the unintentional “bad jokes” his mouth had been running ever since he decided to open it. At least Applejack’s brow hadn’t climbed any higher, but still the ire in her eyes remained. Surprise that she had let him get this far, the boy took a slow and shaky breath before continuing.

“Believe it or not, this little pony has inspired me.” He nodded. “I hear that’s what her special talent is all about, helping others find their purpose and inspiring them to try new things. It seems her influence doesn’t fall short to ponies alone.”

And quietly, the dots and the stars clicked together in his mind as the words of the dream walker entered his thought. Do you deem yourself so apart from these equines that surround you in your day-to-day life in Equestria? Princess Luna had uttered to him. …you are closer to the likeness of ponykind than you have ever been in your entire life thus far. David looked up in wonder at the little filly lying in the bed, eyes shut and chest slowly rising and falling beneath slumber. He wondered if perhaps she was dreaming at this very moment, if perhaps Princess Luna was watching over her.

Applejack was busy shaking her head, trying to put two and two together, but her stubbornness broke as soon as she decided that she was just going to have to ask the boy herself. One way or another, she would get to the bottom of it.

“I just don’t get it.” She mumbled. “Even if Twilight don’t got a clue as to why you’re here, then who does?” Once again, she raised a brow. “Do you even know what you’re doing here?”

David gave a chuckle. “It’s funny-” He started. “That Mikado guy had asked me the same thing, right after I asked him what he was doing in Ponyville, of course.”

“That big-wig with the curved horn?” Applejack snuffed. “He’s an outsider anyhow.”

“From the looks of him, I’d say he’s some sort of shōgun guy looking to take over the commercial industry. As to why he’d start in a little country town of all places? Y’got me.” He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “All I can say is, don’t be surprised if you start finding automobile ads in your guys’ newspaper.”

“What the hay does that got to do with anything?” She eyed him curiously.

“Just…making conversation.” He shrugged again.

Her eyes remained slitted, gaze fixed to that same gesture he had been doing almost ever since she had arrived at the hospital. That same note of body language, that shrug. He did that quite often, out of reflex it seemed, and though it was starting to get on her nerves she almost understood his reasoning for doing so. In response, Applejack gave the boy a shrug of her own. David blinked, cocked his head and gave another shrug, exaggerated and playful. He had to hold back a grin as Applejack rested her shrug and cocked her eyebrow again. David attempted to relay, but failed in his inability to flex one brow at a time. It was Applejack’s turn to hold back a grin.

“I think this is the first normal interaction you and I have had together.” David couldn’t help but smile.

Applejack took a moment to realize this, and decided to return the heartfelt words with an obnoxious snort and a turn of her muzzle. She huffed and slid her hat over her eyes. “I wouldn’t go writin’ home about it.” She muttered.

By then, the kettle had begun to run short of water, and the mares were far past satisfied with the amount of tea in their bellies and the conversation they beheld. A tinge of realization struck the back of Rose Luck’s mind, the notion that would bring her to say things and tell others details that she would never even imagine bringing up in such public places, even the abode of her own home. This old, little cabin on the outskirts of Ponyville was far from his sight, out of range of his ears. Rose didn’t just know it, she felt it. No flower bloomed where the whispers did not carry.

“Amethyst.” She began promptly, clearing her throat. “I owe you an apology.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” The unicorn chuckled. “I made six bits an hour walking around sniffing flowers all day.”

Rose delivered a somewhat, dead-panned expression, as though she were waiting for this kid to just shut up and let her talk.

“Right…” The young mare was reminded of the earth pony’s own occupation. “Well, for what it’s worth, there’s no doubt in my mind I wouldn’t accept it.”

“In all honesty, it would mean the world to me right now.” Rose admitted.

“Yeah,” Amethyst agreed, meeting her hoof with Rose’s. “Me too.”

Matilda watched past glossy eyes, hooves clasped in a tight embrace of pure joy as the pair of ponies sitting on her living room couch finally got past their differences and accepted one another as fellow equines. Cranky gave an obnoxious snore, sputtering awake as soon as his wife whapped him over the head with a rolled up newspaper.

“I agree, Cranky.” Amethyst gave a yawn. “I think it’s time for an afternoon nap…and a bath.”

“This isn’t over yet.” Rose declared. “There’s something you ought to know, you and your partner both. That Mr. Mikado, the one at Town Hall…something isn’t right about him.”

“I always figured as much…” Amethyst gazed around the room. “Say, does it feel kinda hot in here?”

“You need to relay this message to your partner as soon as you can.” Rose gave the unicorn a squinted look.

“Why, Ronny boy? He’s…” Amethyst drawled, going lopsided. “He’s picking out my favorite flowers, and they’re just my color!” The mare giggled, smiled stupidly. “He’s so sweet…”

“Amethyst, dear, are you alright?” Matilda reached out with a hoof. “You look rather pale.”

“Funny you should say that.” The noxious mare rose to her hooves. “I think I need one right about-”

And with the struggle to stand on her own four hooves, Amethyst teetered and tottered before slipping over the edge of the coffee table and crashing to the floor with a drained and defeated boom. Both Matilda and Rose sprung to action, calling the young mare’s name and inspecting her form all over.

The blood had seeped its way through her bandage, the gash rippling with infectious, sickly hues of purple and green. Amethyst’s eyes fluttered shut as she fell beneath a soundless, black nothing.

Silence had reigned over the room once more, all except for the momentary beep of the strange, little “life support” machine mounted to the wall above the little patient’s head. David had only taken a moment to study the device’s exterior, attempting to decipher its inner machinations, almost seeming as though some sort of magic played a role in its operation. However, the sight of the patient in the bed had distracted him time and time again, and he finally decided to rest his thoughts and think of the better times to come in the future. At least, he hoped for these better times.

Applejack sat silent as ever, all the same as the boy. Her gaze stretched across her little sister and once again landed on the card resting upon the bedside table. The orange evening glow was beginning to fade to deep purple, and she knew visiting hours were bound to be up soon. She sighed a final time, closing her eyes.

The door clicked open, a white earth mare with a nurse cap emerging from the other end. “Miss Applejack?” Redheart called. “There are some visitors here who would like to speak with you.”

“Send ‘em in.” The mare nodded.

“I’m sorry, but visiting hours will be over soon. We can’t let too many ponies in the patient rooms at once.” The nurse glanced over to the boy, blinking a moment before speaking. “Sir? Visiting hours will be-”

“I know, I heard you the first time.” Strangely prompt, the boy turned to the farm pony. “Go on and see who’s here, Applejack. I’ll spend a few more minutes with Apple Bloom.”

She held back a grunt, and struggled to push herself from her seat as though glue held her to its cushion. With a glance to the door and the waiting nurse pony, Applejack finally pushed her way over to the portal and gave her younger one last look before slipping past the threshold and sliding the frame shut. David paused before he was sure the coast was clear, dealing the sign of the cross over his head, shoulders and chest. He resumed his position with elbows to his knees and fingers interlocked, and a small prayer mumbled its way past his lips.

Apple Bloom’s ear flickered.

Applejack elicited something of a surprised stare, but blinked with recognition at the stallion and his daughter standing before her. Mr. Filthy Rich wore a mournful expression, Diamond Tiara all the same as the old colt lumbered forward and took the elder sister’s hoof in both of his own.

“My sincerest condolences to the fate that has befallen your dear sister, Miss Applejack.” Rich spoke reverently. “It would do our hearts and our family good to help yours in anyway we can.”

“Shucks, Mr. Rich, I’m mighty thankful you’ve given it the thought.” Applejack shook back. “But, honest t’betsy, everypony’s already done everything they can. I know you’ve signed Apple Bloom’s card and all, I’d consider that more than enough.”

“Oh, but you misunderstand.” Filthy was strangely enthusiastic. “I’m here to do exactly that.”

“W-Whadda’ ya’ mean…?” Applejack looked on, perplexed.

“I understand that our companies have been in business with each other for quite some time, ever since that old Grand Pear left Ponyville, to be exact.” The business pony cleared his throat and continued. “Don’t get me wrong, this ain’t an offer I thought up outta’ the blue from pity of what happened to your sister.”

“Offer?” Applejack wondered.

“Daddy’s given it a lot of thought over the past few months.” Diamond Tiara joined in. “It started out as funding plans for my academy career in the future, but now we think this will be the best move for both the shop and the orchard.”

“We believe that Barnyard Bargains and Sweet Apple Acres oughta’ come together to form one big business, here in Ponyville.” Filthy nodded with confidence. “We’ll call it ‘Barnyard Acres’.”

“I thought we agreed on ‘Sweet Apple Bargains’?” Diamond interjected.

“That’s what they call a working title, sweetheart.” The father rubbed her mane.

“But…Granny Smith is the matriarch to Sweet Apple Acres. She always has been.” Applejack argued. “I don’t even know if she’ll agree with everything y’all are sayin’, but you oughta’ bring it up with her first.”

“And we already have.” Diamond confirmed.

“She told us to leave the decision up to you.” Filthy nodded.

Applejack was taken aback, struggling between a dumbfounded glance to the floor and fixing her hat in various ways. Why would Granny do this all of a sudden? Why had the tumult of this responsibility fallen upon her? T’was more of a matter of stoppin’ myself from stoppin’ you. Her elder’s words bounced back to her mind. Ya’ just kept workin’. Ya’ knew what ya’ had to do, and ya’ did it. Her brother’s words, coming back to memory. If ma and pa were still here they’d prolly be lecturing me just the way you’re doin’ right now. And finally, her little sister’s words. This was it then, her first big decision as the matriarch of the farm. Although she knew that she had not chosen this path, her virtues and her actions are what inevitably led her to lead both her family and her farm. The only question she sought to ask herself now was whether or not she was truly ready to take on such a task.

As the voices fell, the silence of the hallway loomed over the occupants within, everypony in anticipation as to what the young farm mare might say next. Alas, her speech cut short, the door to Apple Bloom’s room swung open as though the rushing, roaring wind had blown right through.

David stood speechless, shocked and staring, and finally spoke.

“She’s awake.”

The room filled within a matter of seconds. Applejack flung herself to one side of the bed while David rounded and waited eagerly on the other side. Filthy and Diamond distanced themselves respectfully, yet kept close enough to watch the little pony laying in the bed stir and blink the bleariness from her eyes. Macintosh was right by her sister’s side, and the remaining Crusaders practically hopped onto the sheets with fervent desire to greet their friend. Nurse Redheart was already in the room, shushing the little fillies as everypony froze and focused their attention to the little mare, finally awake, finally looking around the room with wide and wondering eyes.

“Rise and shine, sugarcube.” Applejack spoke softly, her eyes growing wet. “Stars above…I’m so happy y’made it.”

“What…?” Apple Bloom mumbled her first words. “What happened…? Where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital, lil’ Bloom.” Macintosh spoke.

“You hit your head.” Sweetie Belle noted.

“And there was blood everywhere-”

Sweetie proceeded to slap Scootaloo upside the head before returning to the earth filly.

Applejack breathed. “So…how ya’ feelin’, sugarcube?”

“…” Apple Bloom hesitated. “Is that…my name?”

The occupants blinked, looking to each other with mixtures of confusion and worry. “O’course not, silly. Your name is Apple Bloom.” Applejack answered.

And once again, the filly in the bed hesitated, gazing upon each and every single face as though they were complete and utter strangers to her. Finally, her eyes rested upon the boy, her sights scared and confused.

“Say…” she began. “Who is Apple Bloom?”