Lady of the Night

Applejack woke up early as usual, just as the sun peaked over the distant mountains. There was always work to do around the farm, so late risers rarely made it in this line of work. The young woman had been doing this for many years, and her internal clock was set to wake at dawn. She stood up groggily, regretting the good amount of hard cider she and her brother, Big Macintosh, had hit into the night before with their cousin Braeburn. That little twit was always into pushing for “just one more drink,” and she could never resist the urge to one up him.

The cute blonde stood up with an audible groan, and proceeded to bang her head on the wall. This only caused her to groan louder. She wasn’t particularly used to these hangovers, so she was lost in how to deal with them. Braeburn had always been somewhat of an alcoholic, but he only visited a couple times a year, and that meant that Applejack was left to suffer from her inexperience.

She proceeded to strip out of her night clothes, and search her closet for any good work clothes that were at least sort of clean. Applejack sighed. After so many times of working in the orchards, she had grown less and less concerned about her laundry until she had grown disgusted with herself. The least pungent clothes she could find had been worn three days in a row, and still wreaked of sweat and hard labor.

As the young woman started to pull her plaid shirt over her head, she took a look in the mirror. It was still remarkable to her how much contrast there was between her body and her hands. While those little hands were calloused from endless hours of picking and manual labor, her body had remained surprisingly well kept and in shape from all of the time spent working. She slipped the shirt on, hopped into some pants, thankfully clean, and left the room.

As Applejack strode down the stairs, she began to really hate her cousin. “I don’t know why in tarnation tha’ man always wants ta drink! It ain’t like we gots ta have it every single tahm!” Applejack ranted to herself. She knew that she didn’t really mean it; she was just in a sour mood from being hung-over. She sighed, and continued preparing for the long day ahead. The young woman knew that they only had so long before it was time to take all of those apples out to market, and that only left so much time for breakfast.

Applejack decided that flapjacks would be a good first meal for that day, so her capable hands began their task. Besides, even she got tired of apples at times. The pretty blonde shuddered at the thought. Apple fritters, apple tarts, apple pie, even apple burritos, for Celestia’s sake! How anyone could live off of these things, she would never know. That’s just too much apple anything for one lifetime. She was suddenly broken from her train of thought by the pungent scent of burning pancakes.

“Damn it!” she cursed to herself when she noticed that her flapjacks had turned a shriveled black rather than the golden-brown she was looking for. Applejack knew she had been distracted of late, but couldn’t quite put her finger on it. After all, what had she ever experienced that would distract her from the job she loved most in the world?

“Ah’m I just bein’ childish?” she wondered to herself as she scraped the filthy pan clean of the nasty debris. “Maybe ah’m just not thinkin’ things through right.” The young woman got back to work making pancakes, hoping that she wouldn’t botch it this time. Applejack knew that this day would be even longer than usual, since the harvest was over and it was now time to sell all of those apples in the market. She sighed, wishing for once that there was something more adventurous to do. The monotony of working their farm was beginning to annoy her to no end.

After about half an hour, she had finished preparing a decent breakfast, and called out a distinct “soups on!” before setting the table. Applejack knew that it would take them several minutes to drag themselves out of bed, and she enjoyed be the first ready to work every day. As expected, the Apple family finally showed their faces as they walked up to the table in their night clothes. She saw Braeburn enter last, and gave him a level gaze with her gentle, yet firm green eyes.

“It’s about tahm ya’ll showed up! We got work ta do today, an’ waitin’ around for some extra shut-eye never made anyone successful.” She smiled as she walked over to the table and dished out their little meal. Applejack was in the habit of making a small breakfast, figuring that too much would slow them down. She was right, of course, but that never stopped them from complaining about it.

“Aww, cum’on sis!” Applebloom whined. The little red haired child hadn’t had any cider to drink last night, but that didn’t stop her from begging for some shut-eye. “Can’t we just wait like another hour, rather than gettin’ up so dang early?!”

“Mind your manners, Applebloom,” Granny Smith, the old matriarch of the household, said to her. “It’s not polite to complain to people who are helping you out, and you should learn to mind yer elders.” The old lady was like some sort of cross between gentle old prune, and ferocious wild dragon. Her gray hair streamed down the sides of her wrinkled old face, but this never stopped her from being as energetic as most at twenty.

“Eeyup. T’aint right ta go aroun’ and jeer ta people who know how ta take care of you.” Big Macintosh, or Mac for short, was a behemoth of a man. Rumor was that he had been given some sort of weird voodoo potion from the witch doctor in the Everfree forest while he was still a boy. Despite his bulk and deep voice, and all the stories floating about, the man was actually very gentle. He had helped Applejack and Granny Smith cope with the loss of his parents, and even helped raise the then infant Applebloom. He and Applejack had become much closer as siblings after having to take shifts with their grandmother to watch over the baby.

After a while, the family finished their little meal, and moved onto their tasks for the day. Applejack knew that Braeburn was lazy, and didn’t really need the extra hand anyways, so she decided to go to market with Big Mac instead. As Mac shoved his gargantuan feet into his sturdy leather boots, Applejack could hardly resist laughing. He was such a big teddy bear, and it had taken years for this to dawn on her since her older brother was always a quiet one.

As they started pushing the wagon full of apples towards the town Ponyville, Applejack laughed to herself. It was ironic how little you could know of a community that resided only four miles from your home. Why they would even bother naming a town something weird like that, she would never even begin to understand, even if the founders were there to tell her. She knew her family had something to do with it, but even Granny Smith couldn’t remember since she was younger than Applebloom when it was first created.

The miles seemed to pass by slowly as the two siblings plodded along. Big Mac was able to push the cart as if it were made of feathers rather than solid oak and laden with apples. It had always surprised Applejack that he was so strong. There was something unsettling about being near someone with strength enough to tear you in half, even if he was your brother. Their similarities were astounding, both being blonde haired, green eyed farmers with a determined disposition, and yet this never caused anyone to mistake them for twins. He was just too damn large.

“Yer considerin’ findin’ a husband soon, aren’t ya?” Big Mac stated, gazing down at his little sister with a look of amusement. “I think tha’s why yur so distracted lately. Just be sure not to pick someone like Braeburn. Men like him are kinda’ stupid and reckless.”

Applejack was not in the least bit surprised that this would come up with Macintosh. Sure, he was concerned for his little sister, and yet he didn’t have a wife yet, so what did he know? “Ah just got ta get mah act together first,” she replied. “Ah think that you should find yurs first, Mac. Then you can give me all the advice yur wantin’ too.”

Macintosh laughed, his voice booming in the deepest bass. “Ah think Ah’ll have ta move outta here first. There aren’t enough women that I would like ta marry, at least, that are single.” The way Mac said it screamed “SHY!” a million miles away.

“Aw, you’re too hard on yurself, Mac! Maybe you could talk to Applebloom. She said that her school teacher is single, and only a couple years younger than you! She would be perfect!” Applejack knew that he probably wouldn’t see someone that taught students as a good match. It’s not that he was stupid, just uneducated. He had had to drop his schooling back when their parents died just to run the farm, and he was always sad when anyone talked about the meaning of education. Someone with his brains could’ve gone to college, maybe even learned the arcane arts in Canterlot. But life isn’t always generous, and you have to roll with the punches just to get by.

“She is kinda cute,” Big Mac said, blushing. Applejack was actually shocked to find her older brother feeling warm and fuzzy just from talking about a woman, albeit a school teacher. This was great news, as far as she was concerned. It was about time that he found someone to start a family with, and Applejack would really enjoy some nieces and nephews to add to her immediate family.

“Well, then ask her on a date, dummy!” Applejack laughed. She knew he would probably take a while, but she knew that he would come around. As long as his choice wasn’t someone she would simply despise, she was happy to gain a sister-in-law. That meant that she wouldn’t be stuck waiting for her older brother to get hitched before she did. How bad could that possibly be?

The sales that day had gone surprisingly well, despite the competition with the Carrot family. Well, who really likes carrots anyway? Once Applejack and Big Mac had closed down the stand, it was time to push the now unburdened cart the long way back to Sweet Apple Acres. As far as Applejack was concerned, this was just the first out of many days to come. It always seemed to be better when it was harvest season, not right afterwards when sales became important. She sighed.

“Wha’ is it, sis?” Big Mac asked.

“Oh, nothin’ really. I just wanna’ get a chance ta see somethin’ other than the same orchard all mah life. Ah mean, while ah love ta go pickin’ them apples, it gets old once you done that a million times without a pause, jest a breather. Ah don’t even remember Ponyville that well, other than for the sales. I jest wanna meet some people, ya know, in a way other than business.” Applejack was somewhat ashamed of herself, and began to regret voicing it to her brother.

“Ah feel the same way too, sometimes,” Big Mac replied. He seemed to be staring longingly off into the sunset, as if wishing he could go that way. “Ah know what’s around the farm, and what’s in the town. Ah just don’t know what’s out there. It’s like some kinda’ strange drive, a need to see things, jest once, before ah die. Ah’m not afraid ta die, ah jest don’t want to until I at least know what ah’m dyin’ for.”

Applejack was more than a little surprised to find her brother speaking this way. She had always admired his tenacity, and the simple ways that he seemed to think. And yet, here he was thinking what she was with far more clarity than she thought she could. She knew he wasn’t dumb, but this goes beyond “not dumb”. He was just plain smart.

After what seemed like an interminable time trying to get to their home, they finally crested the last hill, and the giant red barn came into view. Applejack was more than pleased to look at it. She was home, and they now had a chance to rest for the evening. All concerns and worries departed as they hurriedly pushed the cart into the barn, and turned back towards their home. They rushed towards it, enjoying the serenity it offered.

The first thing they noticed about it that was wrong was the fact that there were no lights on. Why Granny hadn’t lit one this late in the afternoon was truly perplexing to them. The second thing they noticed was that the door was not only ajar, but rent from the top hinge. When Applejack noticed this, she bolted towards the front door, trying desperately to rush inward. She had almost made it inside when her brother caught her, and forced her to the ground. She was about to give an indignant sound when he put his hand over her mouth.

“They may still be here,” he whispered. “Stay outside until ah give the all clear. Understood?” She nodded slowly, once she had time for the panic to subside. Mac removed his hand from her mouth, and turned towards the entrance. He gave his little sister one last look, followed by a quick motion of silence, then proceeded to enter the house.

Applejack knew that it was only minutes, but those minutes spent waiting for her brother to return were the longest she had ever known. The worry for her family, even Braeburn, gnawed at her very soul. And now Macintosh was running the risk of meeting whatever harm could have befallen them. Just when she was just about to stand up and rush in, despite Mac’s directions, he exited the building.

“Come with me,” he said quietly, a look of not trepidation, but sorrow crossing his face. They entered the house slowly, but not too much so, since there was no immediate danger. The relief this gave Applejack only lasted for a moment before she saw what had happened. For the second time that day, Big Mac had to put his massive hand over her mouth before she could scream.

Blood was smeared on the walls in the living room, and Granny’s mangled body was perfect evidence of its source. The smell of gore, mixed with released urine and shit, made the room smell somehow vile and putrid. A glance around the room let Applejack spot Braeburn, who was still breathing, if in a sort of ragged form. He was sitting upright in the room's recliner, holding his bloody hands to his stomach.

Applejack rushed over to his side, and noticed quickly that there were several places where he had been slashed. Even in the poor lighting, she noticed that his hands weren’t just bloody, but had long loops and coils hanging through them. Upon the realization of what these were, she turned and vomited all over the floor. Not that it really mattered, considering what else was already there.

Braeburn looked up from his bloody fingers with a face matted with gore. “I’m… sorry. They came…too…fast. Those little bastards didn’t know that Granny and I were here, so they only…killed her. And…me. They will kill her too, on their own terms. Don’t let…them kill her.”

Braeburn started to fade out while the siblings stared at him in shock. Big Mac was the first to shake it off, and proceeded to shake Braeburn back out of his stupor.

“Who?! WHERE?!!! Tell me!” He was determined to find out, and it was obvious to Applejack what he was dreading. She was shitting herself over the same thing.

“Applebloom…it was the Silent Ones, I swear it!” There was a gurgle coming from Braeburn as his internal fluids started to be released in his death throws. Big Mac looked like he had more questions, but the fact that Braeburn was now staring aimlessly at nothing meant that there would be no answers.

Applejack simply broke down into tears. She didn’t know what to do, and there was certainly no way that she could bring them back. The young woman felt like her heart was shattered into little pieces, with nothing left to live for. She was simply distraught, and had come to forget practically everything but her sorrow.

This, however, didn’t stop Macintosh from paying attention to the situation at hand. He knew that they couldn’t bring their grandmother back, or Braeburn. But that didn’t preclude the chance that they could save Applebloom. It would be a very hard task to fulfill, especially since they didn’t have any way of identifying the killers. But even the longest journey started with one foot well placed in front of the other. He looked over at his hysterical sister, a sister he still had, and one that desperately needed him.

“Listen, Applejack, they haven’t killed our sister yet, and we ain’t gonna let em. We can find these sorry bastards, and blow them all ta hell. But we gots ta keep our heads on straight. If we panic now, Applebloom ain’t gonna have a prayer. So buck up and let’s get down to business. There will be tahm for mournin’ later, but this ain’t that tahm.” He spoke with a voice that was held fervently and unwavering. Applejack looked up into her brother’s eyes, those green eyes so similar and yet different to hers. Eyes that were just as filled with tears, eyes that shared her pain even if his voice hid it well.

“But what do we do? We don’t even know who did this.” Applejack asked. “Where would we even start?” The look on her face blazed with obvious fear and confusion. Macintosh’s, however, did not.

“We start by going to Canterlot. Surely Celestia would know what to do! Besides, we have one lead. The Silent Ones. It ain’t much to go off of, but it’s a start. We can move on from there. Well, we should bury the bodies first. No point in leaving them to just rot there. Then we can get moving. Time is of the essence.”

Applejack was too shocked from what had just transpired to even consider the changes in her brother that would otherwise stick out like a sore thumb. Everyone acts differently in a situation, and some are just born to lead. The siblings got to work, moving the bodies into the orchard’s family graveyard. As Applejack saw Macintosh retrieve a nearby shovel, she knew that there was a long night ahead of them.

Applebloom woke up with a very serious headache. It was dark all around her, and she felt as if she were in some sort of tomb. The room was rather warm, and she heard breathing coming from around her. With a look of shock on her hidden face, she tried to take stock of what had happened. She remembered waking up that morning, or she thought it was that morning, to the sound of her sister making flapjacks. After that, everything became sort of a blur.

She placed a hand against the back of her head, and pulled it back with a sudden jolt of pain. Given the matted blood and lack of memory, even she knew she had been struck. But by whom? As time passed, her recent memories began to return. She remembered playing in the fields, and spending time with their dog. She still remembered seeing a pair of hooded men walking towards their farm, dark and foreboding.

But what she remembered most of all was what happened when they calmly strode into their home. She could still here the thud of the musket ball striking her grandmother in the guts, and the sound of both her head and body landing on the floor at different times after the old lady was finished with a saber swing. She could still see Braeburn desperately throwing everything he had at them, continuing to fight even after mortally wounded. Yes, he stood his ground, even when his intestines were hanging out after a well-placed sword stroke.

The only thing keeping her from crying was the dire threat of the situation. They had obviously knocked her unconscious when they found her, and she was just as obviously not the only one, considering who else was there. Applebloom decided to see what she could do to get free, only to find that her hands were bound tightly at the wrists, and her feet at the ankles. She sighed in exasperation.

“Are you awake?” a timid voice nearby asked. The sound was sweet, almost like the ringing of a bell.

“I am now. Where are we?” Applebloom responded. She had a sneaking suspicion that the nearby voice was just as ignorant as she was. Of course, she was right.

“How should I know? I went to sleep last night, and woke up here ages ago! I wonder why we’re here, anyway. Oh, how rude of me. My name is Sweetie Belle. And you are?”

“Applebloom. Pleased ta make your acquaintance!”

“Well, Applebloom, now that we’ve met, let’s get down to business. I don’t want to rot in this little hole, and you don’t want to die either, so let’s figure a way to get ourselves out of here!”

“Ah have to agree. This ain’t gonna be pretty if we stay for too long.” She wondered what kind of person this “Sweetie Belle” really was. There was no way of knowing if you couldn’t read a face, and they weren’t in any situation for idle chat.

“Ugh, what happened? Oh Celestia!! Rainbow, are you there?!” a nearby voice piped. Given the situation, it was interesting to hear the other person wake up. By the sounds coming from where Applebloom had just heard snoring, she supposed that they were the only ones in the room. Despite all her best guesses, she still didn’t know what was going on.

“Well, while we’re at it, what’s your name?” Sweetie Belle asked. Just from the sound of it, Applebloom could guess that there was something almost like forced courage coming from that tender little voice.

“Ugh…Um, Scootaloo? Glad to meet you, I guess.” Scootaloo replied, with almost as much trepidation as Sweetie Belle was obviously hiding. Applebloom wondered why she wasn’t in the same state as they were in. It seemed like they were just hiding in themselves. Applebloom decided that it was time to take the initiative.

“Well, first things first,” she said. “Do either of you know how to get out of these…things?”

As the sun was just about to rise, Applejack and Macintosh had finally finished burying the remains. There wasn’t time to inscribe a proper burial marker, so they had to resort to using a large stone as the tombstone for both Braeburn and Granny Smith. After what seemed like weeks, they had finally finished what they had set out to do. With the bodies laid to rest, it was time for the next step.

No words had to be spoken as they walked back to the house. They both knew what the other was feeling, and knew that there wasn’t time to talk about it. There was only one thing left to keep them focused, that one singular goal. Find and rescue Applebloom, at all costs. If they failed, there wasn’t exactly much to lose. But they knew that the little girl was depending on her older siblings, and they weren’t about to let her down.

It only took them a few minutes to change into what they were going to need, and to pack a few things for on the road. Applejack had decided to wear her usual attire, just a plain white T-shirt and her usual brown leather jacket. Macintosh, on the other hand, had brushed his teeth and hair, and was sporting a red-plaid, button-down shirt. As they walked down the stairs and though the main living room, they had to stifle the urge to vomit at the sight of all the gore sprayed on the walls. The place seemed to be practically painted in the stuff.

Once they were outside, they took a seat in front of the house. There was only one thing left to do. The time had finally come for some real planning, and Applejack was still at a loss as far as the next step.

“Okay,” Big Mac stated. “We need to get some things straight here. It’s not that difficult to talk like the townsmen do, and we need to remain inconspicuous for as long as possible. The Silent Ones are the cloak and dagger sort of men, and would never expect subterfuge from mere farmers. If we speak like city dwellers, they will have a harder time tracking us, if they are at all.”

“Okay, ah’ll…I mean I’ll give it a try.”

“Good. We might also want to sport some different names. Frankly, if they had a target in mind, it would be best not to run around with the names of her family in the open. Having slit throats won’t get the job done. Also, while we’re on the way, we will need to practice some sort of hand-to-hand skill, like boxing. We can use stubby sticks as if they were daggers and practice disarming each other, etcetera. And I need to learn how to read and write better. You were taught by our uncle how to sound like you’re from Manehatten. Maybe we could work up a good cover story from there.”

“That works, but what has this to do with the plan?”

“The plan must be based off of what we know we can pass off as. In this case, city folk,” Macintosh said, seeming annoyed at the situation. “As for what to do, we have a journey to Canterlot ahead of us, and it will take us a few weeks to get there. That should be enough time to learn to pass off as city dwellers.”

“So when do we start?”

“Now.”

Without any further words spoken, the pair of siblings picked up their gear, and started walking. Applejack looked back at the farm, knowing that they may well never come back. She didn’t know if she would want to. So the young blonde took one last look at it, taking in every crack and inch, soaking up the memories for a lifetime. With firm yet uncertain feet, they strode into the morning, ready to face whatever stood in their way.