the magic island surrounded by mist

It was a day like any other for Applebloom. She was heading home from school, long before she’d formed her famous group with Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo. The afternoon sun bathed the fields of Sweet Apple Acres, and she stepped into her home as usual, greeting whoever would listen with a cheerful “Howdy!”

She expected to find her siblings busy with their daily chores, but instead, she saw them sitting together, focused on something Applebloom couldn’t see from the doorway. Both wore expressions of nostalgia she didn’t recognize. Frowning a little in curiosity, she moved closer.

“What’re y’all lookin’ at?” she asked, but got no answer. Both Big Mac and Applejack seemed lost in their own thoughts.

Applejack, noticing her little sister’s presence, blinked in surprise. “Oh, Applebloom… didn’t see you there” she said, trying to put on a smile.

“What’re y’all lookin’ at?” the little filly insisted, moving closer to the table. Finally, she saw what had them so absorbed: an old photo album, its edges worn with age. Applebloom glanced at the pictures, puzzled, realizing she didn’t recognize any of them.

“Who’re they?” she asked, a mix of curiosity and innocence in her voice.

Applejack exchanged a look with Big Mac, who simply nodded slowly. With a tenderness only an older sister could have, Applejack ran a hoof over the photos before replying.

“They’re our parents, Applebloom” she said in a whisper, her eyes glimmering with a blend of pride and sadness. “Bright Mac and Pear Butter.”

The image showed a sturdy pony with pale yellow fur and a tousled orange mane, grinning with an energy that seemed to fill the room, even through the photograph. Beside him stood a mare with a creamy coat and a deep red mane, looking just as happy and complete.

Applejack continued, her voice soft, “This album’s been lost up in the attic for years. We found it a couple days ago. It’s… somethin’ we couldn’t replace with all the bits in the world.”

Applebloom stayed quiet, processing what she’d just heard. She knew she’d never known her parents, but she’d never paused to imagine what they were like.

Back in the present, Applebloom stood motionless, frozen by what she’d just learned. In front of her was a stallion who looked just like her in so many ways the same yellow coat, the same red mane except for his eyes. His eyes held a liveliness tempered by years of experience. Then her gaze drifted down to his flank, and she saw his Cutie Mark: a pair of green apples, split in half.

Everything started to make sense, but at the same time, it was impossible to process. He’d just called her “daughter,” and that word echoed in her mind over and over. Memories of old photos, conversations with Applejack, and the stories they’d told her about her parents—those two ponies from the pictures—came flooding back. The pieces were coming together, but the bewilderment was still too overwhelming.

With a trembling voice, barely able to speak, she whispered, “D-dad?”

The stallion, whom she now recognized as Bright Mac, nodded, his eyes filled with tears that sparkled with barely contained emotion. “Yes, it’s me” he said softly, his voice heavy with feeling.

Applebloom couldn’t believe what she was experiencing. Everything around her felt like a dream, something impossible, but her memories and what she was seeing left no room for doubt. She moved forward slowly, wanting to make sure he wouldn’t disappear if she touched him. When she was close enough, she looked at him intently, and then, unable to hold back, she threw herself into his arms, wrapping him in a tight hug.

“Dad!” she cried, as tears she’d held back for so long began to flow uncontrollably. Bright Mac held her close, hugging her with all the tenderness he had, letting his own tears fall too.

He looked at her with a soft, proud smile as he pulled back a little, like he wanted to take in every detail of her face. “Look at you, you’ve grown so much,” he murmured, his eyes tracing over her with wonder. The last time he’d seen her, she’d barely been a baby, and now here she was, a brave young filly. “You have no idea how happy I am, and your mama… well, she’s gonna be just as thrilled when she sees you.”

Those words made Applebloom smile again, and when she realized her mother was also on the island, fresh tears welled up, mixed with laughter and relief. It was all so unreal, but her eyes sparkled with uncontrollable emotion.

After a moment, once they’d calmed down, Bright Mac asked gently, “What brought you all the way out here, little one? Are your siblings okay?” His voice held a warm note of concern and care.

Applebloom nodded, wiping the last of her tears from her cheeks. “Yes, Dad, they’re all fine… Granny too. I… I’m not exactly sure why I came. It was strange… like a dream, or maybe a calling I couldn’t ignore. It felt like a magnet, something that wouldn’t let me be until I decided to follow it.” Her voice wavered a bit as she recalled the pull of that unknown force, and Bright Mac let out a sigh of relief, as though a great weight had lifted from his shoulders upon hearing his family in Ponyville was safe.

“It’s alright, my dear. We’ll talk all about it once your mama’s here too,” said Bright Mac, ruffling her hair in a fatherly way with a smile. “For now, let’s go gather your things and head on over to your new home. How does that sound?” She nodded eagerly, a mix of excitement, curiosity, comfort, and other emotions hard to explain. “Great! You’re gonna love the farm we’ve got”

"Wait… a farm?” asked Applebloom, puzzled. Bright Mac nodded and explained that they’d been given a piece of land on the island with a farm to grow apples and other crops needed by Mistwatch’s residents.

Applebloom frowned, thinking of the swampy terrain she’d seen. “And how do you plant anything in a place so… damp?” she asked curiously.

“You’re right about that; it’s not ideal soil,” her father admitted. “But here in Mistwatch, there’s an alchemist who helped us adapt the trees. With her help, we managed to cultivate varieties that can actually grow here.”

Applebloom’s eyes lit up. “An alchemist? Like Zecora, then…” she murmured, making a mental note to herself for later.

When the filly and her father arrived in the room, she started gathering her few belongings, the ones she’d managed to bring from Ponyville. She carefully packed her blanket and small bundle of jars, then turned to her father.

“How did you find out I was here?” Applebloom asked, looking up at Bright Mac with curious eyes.

He gave a small, amused smile, as if remembering something recent and a bit funny. “It was the mayor who came by the farm first thing in the morning,” he explained. “He asked if we knew a little filly who looked a lot like me and had a ‘very Apple’ name. The moment I heard that, I didn’t hesitate for a second—I ran straight to town to find you.”

In the brief silence that followed, Applebloom fell into thought, recalling all the questions she’d asked herself for so long. Finally, she looked up at her father, her tone a mix of curiosity and something like reproach.

“Pa, why did you… leave home? Why listen to that voice and leave everything behind?” she asked, her gaze lowering. “Didn’t you think of Applejack, of Big Mac… of me?”

Bright Mac sighed, a gesture Applebloom had never seen from him before, carrying years of weight in his eyes. He moved closer to her, placing a hoof on her shoulder. He lowered himself slightly to be at her eye level and, with a softness meant to soothe her unease, he said, “It’s something we’ll talk about as a family when your mama’s here too. It wasn’t an easy decision… but it was for your safety and for your future.”

After a few seconds of silence, Applebloom’s look of mixed anger and confusion made Bright Mac drop his gaze, his eyes filled with a sadness and regret that even Applebloom could recognize. He looked back up at her and said, his voice breaking, “I’m so sorry, Applebloom. For leaving you like that… without an explanation, without a goodbye. But when the island offered us its help… I just couldn’t refuse.”

Bright Mac paused, his words hanging in the air. Noticing his discomfort, Applebloom gave him a tender smile, extending her small hoof to hold his, large and warm.

“It’s okay, Dad,” she said gently, her gaze filled with affection. “If it was as serious as it sounds, I’ll understand when the time comes. And if you need Mom here to tell me, I’ll wait. What matters now is that… you’re here with me, right?”

Bright Mac felt his eyes well up as he returned her smile, and, without saying more, he pulled her into a deep, warm hug the kind of hug that seemed to mend the lost years.

The faces of those gathered showed a mix of surprise and frustration. Applejack scowled, impatient. “What do you mean it broke down?” she exclaimed, her eyes blazing with that well-known determination. The train conductor swallowed hard, nodding uneasily.

“Yes, ma’am, a part of the train—just installed, mind you—just… gave out. Nobody understands how, but we’ll have to suspend service until we get a replacement. Hopefully by tomorrow or, if not, the day after,” he explained, trying to calm the furious farm pony.

Applejack turned to Twilight with hope in her eyes. “Twilight, use your teleport spell. We’ve gotta get to that town right now!”

Twilight sighed, her eyes narrowing as she mentally calculated the risks. “It’s not that simple, Applejack. I don’t know Calm Tiades, nor how far it is from here. And even if I did, teleporting us all at once is incredibly risky. A spell that big, without a clear destination… we could end up in the middle of nowhere, or worse.”

Fluttershy stepped closer, gently patting Applejack’s shoulder in an attempt to calm her. “Applejack… I know this is hard, but Twilight’s right. We need a safe plan. Maybe we can figure something else out while they work on fixing the train…”

Applejack, still frustrated, clenched her jaw and let out a growl. Without a word, she stormed over to a nearby trash bin and, with a surprising burst of strength, kicked it against the opposite wall. A loud crack echoed through the station as it left a small dent in the bricks.

Big Mac stepped forward to soothe her, placing a hoof on her shoulder. “Calm down. This won’t help.” But she pulled away, her eyes still blazing with worry and anger.

“I don’t understand how y’all can ask me to wait when my sister could be out there in danger, who knows where… This is ridiculous!” she exclaimed, breathing heavily, trying to control her emotions. Spike, looking concerned, approached Twilight.

“Isn’t there another way, Twi? Maybe if we could find more information about Calm Tiades, you’d have better control over the spell,” he suggested, trying to offer an idea.

Twilight shook her head again. “I can’t. As soon as I found out your sister ran off to that town, I went to my library and found nothing. I checked Canterlot’s library—nothing. When I asked the librarian, she said there was a book, but when we went to get it, it was gone. Records on coastal towns—empty. Maps—erased. It’s as if that island is trying to avoid us…” She said the last part slowly, staring into space as her mind pieced together a theory.

“Avoiding us…” she repeated quietly.

Twilight lowered her gaze, almost whispering to herself as she tried to make sense of what she'd just said. “It’s as if… that island is trying to keep itself a secret, out of any record.” The idea seemed so absurd she could barely believe she was considering it, but something about all this didn’t add up, and the gaps in information were too strange to be mere coincidence.

Applejack, still restless, exchanged a look with Twilight and stepped closer. “Are you saying that island is… alive? Or that someone’s hiding it on purpose?”

Twilight sighed, her frustration evident in her eyes. “I’m not saying that’s the case, but it seems like someone or something wants us to know nothing about Calm Tiades… not even where it is exactly.”

Rarity, who’d been listening silently, placed a hoof to her chest, worried. “But who would do something so… sinister? And why?”

Twilight swallowed, unsure how to answer. The possibility that Calm Tiades was intentionally hidden opened a flood of questions, yet it explained the strange void she kept encountering in her search for information.

Rainbow stepped forward hesitantly. “So… what do we do now? If everything’s blocking us, how do we find Applebloom?”

“What if… we just pretend we’re not looking for her?”

The unexpected idea made everyone turn sharply to see who had spoken… and there was Spike, a serious and thoughtful expression on his face.

Applejack was the first to break the silence. “Spike, what’re you getting at?”

Spike shrugged, but his gaze was steady. “Just… if Calm Tiades is doing something to avoid us, maybe if we stop acting like we’re searching for her, the island will… I don’t know, let its guard down or something.”

Twilight, who’d been piecing together the theory of the elusive island, looked at Spike with a spark of understanding in her eyes. “Spike… that could work. If Calm Tiades responds to intent, then maybe we could slip under the radar if we approach it more… casually.”

Rarity frowned, concerned. “But how do we ‘casually’ travel to a place we don’t even know the exact location of?”

Twilight sighed. “That’s the problem. Without the train to get us to the nearest town, we’re stuck here… unless we find another way to travel without the purpose of seeking the island…” After a few minutes of silence, Twilight spoke up again, her voice filled with determination.

“I have a plan.”

The sky over Mistwatch looked the same as always, and the air had that constant humidity that seemed to embrace everything. Applebloom and Bright Mac walked steadily along the dirt path, the ground soft but not too muddy, leaving light footprints behind with each step. Around them, the landscape showed dense vegetation and tall trees, with roots stretching and twisting across the earth, nourished by the swampy environment. Every so often, the croak of a frog or the flap of a bird’s wings broke the silence, giving the place a sense of peaceful, mysterious life.

At the end of the path, Applebloom spotted the farm. Though it was surrounded by puddles and vegetation typical of the swamps, the place had the essence of Sweet Apple Acres: a couple of sheds, an old windmill turning gently in the breeze, and an orchard of apple trees that looked a bit different—more twisted but filled with bright red fruit.

Bright smiled proudly, stretching out a hoof in a broad gesture. “Welcome to Swampy Apples, sugarcube. It may not be the farm you’re used to, but we’ve made a home here.”

Applebloom smiled, amazed by how familiar it all felt. “Did y’all really plant all this yourselves?”

Bright Mac nodded with a chuckle. “Yup, it was a challenge with the soil and the weather, but with a little help, we got these trees to grow. It’s not quite Sweet Apple Acres, but… even swamps can give good apples.”

Applebloom looked at the orchard, noticing the resilience of the trees—a resilience that reminded her of her own family. “It’s amazing, Pa. I guess… like Granny used to say, this is part of bein’ an Apple too, huh? Puttin’ down roots wherever we are.”

“Exactly,” Bright said, placing a hoof over her shoulders with a proud smile. After a moment of silence, he spoke again. “Well, let’s head inside. Your mom’s probably eager to see us.”

Bright gently opened the door, gesturing for Applebloom to go in first. She stepped forward slowly, as if crossing that threshold was something deeper than just entering a house. Inside, the soft morning light filled the room, giving it a warm, cozy feel. The worn wooden furniture looked old but well cared for; there was a small living room with chairs she imagined her mother might’ve sewn, and a handwoven rug covered the floor.

She made her way to the kitchen. It was a humble space, with a polished wooden table in the center and a small stove in one corner. The shelves were lined with glass jars and small bags, filled with ingredients and spices that seemed gathered from the island itself. But what really caught her attention was the figure she’d only ever seen in photos, looking a bit different with time… It was her.

Her mother stood by the window, looking out at the foggy landscape as if it somehow mirrored what she felt inside. She seemed lost in thought, as if there was something on her mind she couldn’t quite say out loud. Then she sensed who was in the room; her shoulders tensed slightly, and she turned slowly. When she saw Applebloom, her eyes filled with emotion and surprise, and a trembling smile crossed her face as she murmured in a choked voice:

“My baby…”

Applebloom took a step toward her mother, her smile full of emotion and relief. Her heart pounded, her eyes bright with pure joy. Standing there was Pear Butter, her mother, the one she’d only known through pictures and family stories. Without hesitation, in one quick, spontaneous move, Applebloom threw herself into her mother’s embrace, wrapping her in a tight, sincere hug.

For a moment, Pear seemed frozen, with a weight of old doubts and a trace of fear in her gaze. She’d feared that her daughter might look at her with resentment or anger for leaving without warning, without a goodbye. But as she felt Applebloom’s arms wrapped around her with such warmth, something inside her began to soften, to fill with a nearly forgotten love. Slowly, realizing her daughter had come to her with an open heart, the orange mare lifted a hoof and wrapped it around her daughter gently, returning the hug with a tenderness that grew stronger and deeper.

It was their first true, complete mother-daughter hug. Applebloom closed her eyes and nestled closer, feeling the warmth and protection she’d always imagined. A new feeling of home washed over her in her mother’s arms, and, in silence, they let their tears flow.

Pear gently stroked her daughter’s back, her eyes filled with tears as she looked at her face. With a trembling smile, she whispered, “You’re here… I thought I’d never see you again, my little one. It feels like only yesterday you were just a baby in my arms, so fragile, so perfect.” Her voice broke a bit, and she held Applebloom tighter, as if afraid she might vanish at any moment.

“You’ve grown into a fine young mare,” she went on, looking at her with a mix of pride and nostalgia. “There’s so much I want to say to you, so much I want to know… You don’t know how long I’ve dreamed of this moment.”

Applebloom nodded, her eyes shining with a blend of joy and sadness. “I feel the same way, Mama… Granny Smith and my brothers would be thrilled to see you, but…” Her voice trailed off, and her shoulders drooped at the thought of the distance that now separated them.

Pear gently caressed her face, wiping away the tears that were beginning to fall. “Shhh, don’t be sad, sweetheart,” she whispered softly. “We’re here, together. We might not be with them right now, but we have a new chance here. And I promise you’ll never be without support… or love.”

Pear hugged her again, giving her the warmth and security that only a mother could provide.

Bright joined in the embrace, wrapping both of them in his strong presence and giving them a warm squeeze. After a few moments of peaceful silence, he let out a small laugh and murmured, “Just wait till Zahir hears about this…”

Applebloom frowned, looking up at her father in confusion. “Zahir? Who’s that?” she asked, not understanding.

Just then, the door to the house opened, and in walked the same zebra she’d bumped into before. His eyes widened at the sight of Applebloom in her parents’ arms. Blinking, he shot them a puzzled look and asked, unable to hide his confusion, “Ma, Pa... Who is she?”