Royal Beginnings

Apple Harvest paused in the midst of grinding the willowbark into paste, wiping the sweat from her brow. She had several more packs to make before she could rest, and she would need to arrange a resupply run afterwards. Her stores were getting low, unsurprising coming into winter. The colder months brought more colds and illnesses than she knew what to do with, what with the township living in closer quarters for warmth. Her office was a tiny room, packed to the brim with herbs, poultices and the odd potion. Shelves upon shelves of hoof written notes from herself and her forebears filled what space was left, medicinal knowledge learned through trial and error over generations. Apple’s mouth settled into a grim line, mentally calculating what she would need to support her people through winter. Some she could forage and scavenge herself, travelling far away to the Everfree forest to the southeast, but some she would have to buy from the few pony settlements that would sell to her and they always charged a premium, suspicious of the hooded stranger who appeared once every few moons. She would have to talk to Vorpal and find out what they had spare to barter, not that she expected they would have much.

Apple snorted, turning her mind back to the willowbark. Once it was a fine paste, she would dry it in the sun and turn it into tea and poultices, able to be consumed inside and out. After that would come the packs she made for the general sniffles that the foals seemed to endlessly share amongst themselves. She was so absorbed in her thoughts she didn't notice the pair of luminous eyes peering at her from over the table edge, but she did notice the small black hoof inching towards her favourite silver knife.

“What are you doing, Star?” Apple didn't even look up from her work. The hoof whipped away and back under the table, the yellow eyes narrowing and glittering at her.

“...Nuffin’”

“Nothing, huh? Does Juniper know you are doing nothing in here with me?”

“...Nooo…” The eyes disappeared and Apple could hear the foal curling up under the table.

“I see. And why doesn't Juniper know where you are?” Apple continued her work, folding small bags of waxed cloth together to make tea bags. Soft sniffles started from under the table. Star often came in here, hiding from the teacher and the other foals. As the last foal without a cutie mark, he got more than his share of teasing.

Apple chose a select piece of ginger, peeling it gently then held it under the table. Soft hooves took it from her and the sound of gentle munching replaced the sniffles.

“You know Juniper will help you with the teasing if you just talked to her, right?”

“Don't wanna.”

“You don't want things to get better?”

“Don't wanna cutie mark.”

Apple’s hooves stopped moving in surprise at that. Star had worked so hard to find his special talent, trying every single job there was to be had in Hollow Shades. For him to give up meant today must have been an especially bad day. She dipped her head below the table, looking at the small ball of fluff under it. His leathery wings were wrapped around himself, and his tufted ears pinned back.

“Star?”

“Apple Harvest! Where are you?” Apple hit her head on the bottom of the table, hissing in surprise. Peering over the edge, she could see Vorpal standing in the door, his wings twitching in a panic.

“If you’re looking for Star, he’s safe with me.” She started, assuming Juniper had sounded the alarm for a missing foal.

Vorpal looked at her in surprise, his eyes going blank with confusion before snapping back to her. “No, but Juniper was looking for him, I’ll let her know. You have to come with me now, there's an emergency!” He was tapping on the tips of his hooves, clearly in a hurry. Whatever it was, it was serious. She never saw Vorpal get so agitated. An accident? Apple was up and moving, grabbing her work bag and toolkit. She kept it well stocked and always at hoof for moments like these. Pausing briefly, she reached under the table and ruffled Star’s mane before running after Vorpal.

“They came a few minutes ago, and wanted you by name. By the moon, Apple, what have you gotten yourself into?” He called over his shoulder at her as they ran through the village, flapping their wings for extra speed.

“Who?” Apple scanned their village, but couldn't see a collapsed building, or anyone hurt, or anypony really. Everyone was inside their homes, fearfully peering out at them through the windows. Luna’s moon had reached its zenith in the sky, the face of the Mare in the moon serenely staring down at them. “Vorpal, what's going on?”

Vorpal slowed to a canter, breathing heavily. “Celestial guards are here.” He murmured softly. “I have them waiting at the gates of the town, I don't know how they found us but they asked for you, by name. They have a scroll bearing the royal seal.”

Apple Harvest pulled up short, staring at him in horror.

“I don't think they mean to cause trouble this time,” Vorpal continued quickly, leading them down to the gate, “But you and I both know the sun bitch is not to be trusted. After they speak with you, I'll call a meeting. The village may have to run.”

Apple swallowed, anxiety gnawing in her gut. For generations after Nightmare Moon was banished, thestrals had been hunted by ponies by royal decree. Blamed for siding with the Princess of the Night in the war of the two sisters, they had been stripped of their Nocturnal guard status, reduced to non-citizens and enemies of the crown. Their heads were displayed as trophies on the outskirts of towns, wings hacked off, entire generations of thestrals murdered and buried in mass graves. What was once a proud people were now reduced to a foal’s tale, told around campfires by ponies as monsters in the dark. Their town was the only semi-permanent settlement of thestrals, buried in the depth of a forest at the base of Foal Mountain where ponies feared to tread. They had no hospitals or schools, only what they made for themselves, only what they had held together to survive with. As far as Apple knew, they were the last of her people. A thousand years of genocide had left them with a population numbering less than a few hundred.

The gate loomed before them, an arch of stone from eons past dripping with moss. She squared her shoulders, folding her wings tightly. Apple Harvest was one of the only thestrals who had contact with regular ponies, donning disguises to trade with outskirt towns far from the prying eyes of the sun princess. She was not going to show them fear. Two white pegasi stallions stared imperiously down at her, their faces blank and cold, one of them had a slight curl of distaste on his lip. They wore gold armour engraved with the designs of the sun princess, one piece of their armour could feed their village for a month. They each bore no weapons, but judging by their muscles they would be able to fight hoof to hoof if needed. One of them wore a saddlebag woven of fine, sturdy cloth, embroidered with the insignia of Celestia. They both only looked slightly travel weary, which was surprising considering they were days flight from Canterlot. By contrast, Apple Harvest wore nothing but her medicinal bag, its ragged, travel worn cloth strapped to her side. She knew she smelled of her apothecary, herbs and dirt, her hooves chipped and her coat dull.
Vorpal stood close to her, lending her his strength. His Equuish wasn't as fluent as hers, but he had enough to keep up with the conversation.

“Are you Apple Harvest?” One of the stallions enquired, his voice polite and flat but still unable to hide his disgust. His nose wrinkled ever so slightly.

Apple Harvest swallowed back her fear, stepping up to him. She had faced down manticores and worse, she was not afraid of a piddly little stallion in a uniform.

“Yes. What do you want?” Her voice thankfully didn't quaver, coming out strong and firm. Her voice always sounded deeper in Equuish, alien to her ears. Equuish was so different from her own language, Thestrus was spoken with chirps, chirrups, purrs and squeaks, ear flicks and body movements as much as part of the language as the spoken element. To speak Thestrus was to engage in a beautiful almost dance, by contrast Equuish was boorish, brutish and blunt, harshly spoken with guttural sounds.

The stallion reached into his pack, pulling out a scroll that did indeed bear the sun insignia, stepping forward holding it towards her. As one Apple and Vorpal stepped back, knowing better than to let a celestial guard get within striking distance. He paused, staring at them, before lowering the scroll to the ground.

“Her Royal Highness, Princess Celestia, Princess of Equestria and She of the Eternal Sun, cordially invites one Apple Harvest of Hollow Shades, to join her in Canterlot for an exclusive mission of the utmost importance. You must attend us on the evening after the Summer Sun Celebration, one week from today.” The other guard intoned his ‘invitation’. “The details and directions are in the scroll before you. It is confidential, spelled for your eyes only.” He glowered at Vorpal, clearly making his point that he was not to read the scroll.

Apple stared at the scroll as if it contained an explosive spell. “Why me? I don't represent our people, Vorpal does. He is our leader.” She glared at the guards in front of her, her initial worry now replaced with anger. This wasn't an invitation, but a command. If she left the town, her people would be without their healer for not just weeks, but potentially months. And that’s if this wasnt a trap, a lure into the capital city where she would be lynched for fooling ponies into trading with thestrals.

“Her Highness specified you, and you alone.” As if this was enough explanation, the guard stepped back, reaching into his saddle bag again. “She also gifts this to your town, so they will not struggle while you are gone.” He placed a large sack on the ground, before both of them turned and flew away, clearly relieved to be away from their village.

Apple Harvest watched them go, her mind racing. Vorpal grabbed a stick from the ground, cautiously flipping open the sack from a safe distance. He gasped, his wings flying open in shock. Before them was an enormous sack of bits, golden and gleaming in the moonlight.

“There must be hundreds of bits in here!” Vorpal whispered, licking his lips.

“Yes.” Apple turned away from the sack, knowing that Celestia had trapped her effectively. Vorpal would never ask her to go, but this money was too much to pass up. “Enough to keep the town fed for a year.” Clearly whatever was in the scroll meant she would not be returning to her home any time soon.

“You can't think-” Vorpal turned away, staring at her in shock.

“I do.” She picked up the scroll, breaking the royal seal and holding it up to the light. Vorpal moved around, looking as well.

“It's blank!” he touched the edge of the parchment, confused.

“It's enchanted, my eyes only.” Apple began to read it out loud, because the sun princess’s commands held no power here.

“To one Apple Harvest,

This year’s Summer Sun Celebration marks the thousandth year since the banishment of Nightmare Moon, or as so few remember, my sister, Princess Luna.

For generations your people have unfairly taken the blame for her fall, it is time this exile came to an end. In one week, on the evening after the Summer Sun Celebration, please come to Canterlot Castle. I have a job to offer you, one that requires a thestral of your unique talents.

I will not lie, my little pony, what awaits you is a trial of the highest difficulty. Together, I hope that you and I will forge a path that has not been walked in generations.

Fret not, your town will be compensated well in your absence, and a wage provided to you as well. I will send ambassadors to Hollow Shades to begin construction on a hospital and a school. It is time that your people rejoined Equestria.

On the thousandth day of the longest night, look to the moon. There, you will see your destiny.

Yours,
Princess Celestia, Princess of Equestria and She of the Eternal Sun”

Apple flicked her ears, puzzled. An offer of truce and one of a trial. Apple Harvest noted there was no option to refuse, Celestia just expected her to come running when summoned.
Vorpal sat back on his haunches, clearly taking it in.

“Rejoin Equestria? Does she think nothing of what we have suffered? At her decree?” His voice was weak with disbelief. “Has she forgotten how many have died by her order?”

Apple put a wing around him. “I think she hopes that we will be so desperate to take her offer that we will forget, Vorpal.”

They sat in silence together, looking at the letter and bag of bits.

Vorpal turned to her, his eyes mournful under the moonlight. He didn't want to ask any more than she wanted to answer. “Will you go?”

“Yes,” Apple rubbed her face with her hoof. “But she will not find me nearly as amenable to her demands as she thinks I will be. Before I help in whatever game she has planned, she will answer for what she has done.”