Twilight was dreaming.

It was obvious, immediately: the air around her had the quality of not really being there, and she was neither underground, in the jungle, nor safe and sound in a bed in Sweet Apple Acres (where she suspected her body now lay). Instead, the ground underhoof was hard and barren and cracked, and a body-temperature breeze blew through her mane. In contrast to the rolling grasslands and forests near Ponyville, there were no signs of life. If she had to guess, she had found herself in a desert, and judging by the glow on the horizon, it was just before morning.

She looked down her front and rubbed her chest. It was sore, but there was no sign of the wound—not even a scar. The library’s copy of Daring Do and the Legend of the Metalsmith had taken most of Rainbow Dash’s knife, but she knew the blade had to have at least pricked her skin to free her of the Tome’s malignant influence—unless it hadn’t.

So, dreaming. And one of her best friends had probably stabbed her, which was something.

“Hello?” she called out, without really expecting a response.

Twilight started walking, not really sure where she was or where she was going. Her hoofsteps rapped sharply on the desert floor. Instead of stars, light came from a low-hanging purple moon, lending an eerie color to everything. Tiny shadows danced around her, never quite coming close. These weren’t the aggressive Shadow Ponies that had been hounding her all night; these had the fearful inquisitive nature of foxes.

She paused, tilting her head. When they were shapeless and small like this, they didn’t seem as threatening. A few even swam up to her hooves before darting away. She giggled.

“How did you little ones make it out?” she asked quietly, reaching out to touch one.

“How did you?” a sensual, decadent voice asked.

Twilight gasped and spun around. A tall Shadow Pony mare with wings and a horn stood before her, regal and majestic. Before it could act Twilight shot a bolt of pure white light at the Alicorn, striking it in the chest. It cried out and tried to jump away, but from the wound poured a thick syrup of Shadow Magic that started flowing over her chest and down her legs. She wailed and cried and yelled, her voice distorting and stretching out. In a panic Twilight tried to take flight but the Shadow Magic shot up and over her body, wrapping her tight, covering her face—she couldn’t breathe!

---

Twilight crashed to the floor and flailed awkwardly, trying to find a way out of whatever was covering her. Eventually she caught hold of the blanket and pulled herself free, and lay gasping on her back, her heart hammering.

She was in Applejack’s room, on the floor beside the bed, looking up at the ceiling. The sun was bright, pouring in through the window. The room was homey. It smelled like breakfast had been cooked and eaten a couple hours earlier. Other than a faint birdsong—how long had it been since she’d heard music?—the house was quiet.

She unwrapped herself from the blanket and struggled up onto all fours. Her left hindleg gave a painful twinge, but for the first time since growing a jungle her horn didn’t ache. Her forehead felt free of a large weight she’d gotten used to carrying, and it was bliss. The only evidence of the previous day’s adventure was a square of bandaging cloth taped to her chest, and an ache that throbbed. A splotch of blood had stained through to the surface and had dried to a dark, muddy brown. The area was tender when she touched it. She carefully peeled back a corner, revealing a small cut, long and thin.

She frowned and replaced the bandage. A giant yawn fought its way out, then she plodded out into the hallway.

“Is anypony home?” she called out, more out of a fear of intruding than a need for help. No answer. The house creaked around her as she walked down the stairs, and she revelled in the calm bright home and the delicious odors of an earlier breakfast. The kitchen had its curtains closed, infusing the room with a warm, gentle glow.

“Hello?” she tried again, walking through the kitchen towards the front door. Her voice was rough and raw, like she’d been yelling all night after not drinking enough water all day. She opened the door and winced, bringing her foreleg up to block the sudden sunlight for a moment.

It was bright. Maybe it was because she’d been underground for the better part of the past day, but the farm was positively shining. She walked outside, closing the door behind her. A gentle breeze flew over her, sending ripples across the ground and stirring the thick leaves on the trees surrounding their yard. Too much motion.

She closed her eyes and stood still for a few moments, focusing on the fresh air. Absently she worried at the bandage on her chest.

There was a lot she needed to do. She could feel a checklist poking at her, trying to get her attention. Check on Spike and the Library. Eat. Chores and errands. Practice—

“It’s so . . . routine,” she muttered, feeling pulled in three directions. She slowly opened her eyes and looked at the barn. “Yesterday was loft day, so that means today—”

Hidden under the whisper of the breeze Twilight thought she heard the solid thunk of hooves on applewood.

“—is southern orchard day.” She gulped, then nodded, held her head high, and followed the path towards the sun.

---

The harsh midday sun was lessened somewhat as she followed the cart path between the apple trees of the southern orchard. Twilight still hadn’t found Applejack but from the repetitive solid strikes cracking through the air she knew she was getting close.

“Hmm. Repetitive, but not regular. She must be more tired than—”

She skidded to a stop. Motion beneath her hooves—not hers. Her shadow was shifting and flexing, like a foal waking up from a nap.

“That’s unusual,” Twilight muttered to herself.

Her shadow froze, almost as if it had heard her, had felt her eyes on it. Twilight waited, and eventually the shadow resumed exploring the ground around her hooves.

Twilight brought her hoof up to her bandage and pressed until it hurt. That’s more unusual. This warrants investigation.

To-do: Investigate how I can feel discomfort while dreaming.

Satisfied, she watched the shadow look this way and that way, exploring the environment, then she continued on towards the sounds of her friends.

Recently cleared of apples, the low-hanging branches around her shifted pleasantly in the breeze. Shadows danced around between the tree trunks and across the path, though never near hers. She couldn’t seem to ignore them and think about what to say to Applejack when she saw her—they pulled her attention around, fleeing when she bent low to inspect them. She rubbed her eyes and tried not to yawn. It was hard to focus. Much easier to think about spells and storytelling.

A pair of arguing voices caught her attention.

“What’s that supposed to mean? It’s sure as hay not my fault Cairo found us. He’s not even supposed to be real, Applejack. How’s that my fault?”

“We didn’t have to go after him. He took yer book. Could’a left it at that.”

Thwack

“Oh, yeah, sure, Ms. Don’t Mess With Apples. When’s the last time somepony mugged you and you let them go, huh?”

“Ain’t never been mugged.”

Thwack

“Would you stop for just one moment, AJ? We got Twilight home. Nopony died. We had an adventure. It was fun! Why are you making such a big deal of this?”

“The big deal, Ms. Plan B, is if we’d stopped playing along for just one moment, Twilight woulda stopped too and none of this nonsense woulda happened.”

They were just beyond the nearest tree, and hadn’t seen her, yet. The urge to turn and pretend none of this had happened was very strong, and despite the late hour Twilight could feel a nice, comfy bed calling.

But her friends deserved to know the truth, and Twilight had to see them. She pursed her lips and walked out into the open.

“You really think Twilight would have . . . stopped . . . Oh.”

Rainbow Dash paused when she saw Twilight. Applejack followed her gaze and gulped.

Twilight said, “Um . . . Hi.”

For a moment none of them said anything. She would’ve planned something to say, but standing there she couldn’t remember doing so. Say something. Ignore the scratches and bruises and bite marks. Just—! “About last night—”

Suddenly Twilight found herself surrounded by blue and rainbow and a warm pressure strangely in contrast with the breezy air. “I’m so sorry!” Dash blurted out, crushing Twilight slowly. “I swear, I didn’t mean to try and kill you and then drop you off of a bridge!”

That’s something you don’t hear everyday.

“It’s okay, Dash. I forgive you.” She awkwardly patted Dash around her faceful of mane. “Um, I’m still pretty sore—”

“Oh! Right. Of course.” Looking sheepish, Dash released her and backed up, looking at and then very carefully not looking at the bandage on Twilight’s front, just like Twilight was avoiding their injuries. “Are you okay?” Dash asked hesitantly.

“I think so. What happened last night? I don’t remember much after we made it outside.”

“We carried ya back home,” Applejack said from behind Dash.

Twilight stepped to the side to see her. Applejack looked exhausted: her mane was tangled, there were bags under her eyes, and she was quite obviously holding back a yawn. “You asked us whether we liked our make-believe adventure. Ya said sorry a whole bunch. And then you pretty much passed out. Did you sleep okay?” Applejack asked.

“Of course!” Twilight lied.

Applejack’s eyes narrowed slightly. “There’s some grub left over from breakfast. Didja eat?”

“I’ll . . . uh, I’ll go grab some. But—”

“Good.” Exhausted or not, Applejack casually positioned herself in front of the next tree and placed a powerful kick that Twilight felt more than heard straight to the center of its trunk. A hail of green apples poured into a dozen well-placed baskets.

“So,” Dash started, trying to look casual. “Um. What were you doing down there?”

Twilight frowned. Why had she done it? I didn’t want to think about being a Princess. I wanted Applejack to enjoy playing make-believe. I didn’t want you to stumble around in the forest for a while and give up. Her excuses all sounded so petty.

“I thought I could do better,” she finally admitted. It was technically true. “Better than the books. I followed you two into the Everfree and was inspired to make it exciting. Every hero needs a villain, you know.”

Twilight watched Applejack as she moved from tree to tree, pretending not to listen.

“So I . . . gave you a villain. And a temple. And some excitement. And then I started digging. All of that was me.”

Dash stared. “You really—Like, you made the labyrinth? You made Cairo and the Shadow Ponies and all those minions?” Dash’s eyes grew wide and suddenly she was having trouble standing still. “That was so epic! And the ladders? The statue? How did you do that thing with the light?” She gave up and jumped into the air and hovered in front of Twilight. “Were you Midnight Oil all along? You had to be. She was way too clever to be some spell. But then what about Cairo? How did you—”

“Rainbow Dash,” Applejack interrupted, sounding irritated. “Ah distinctly remember you sayin’ you’d do these chores.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dash said sullenly, and planted herself down in front of the next tree. For a few minutes Twilight watched the two work in silence, both pretending their earlier argument hadn’t happened—hadn’t been about her.

Twilight waited until Applejack had finished collecting the apples from one of the trees, then cleared her throat.

Applejack spoke up before she could say anything. “Listen, Sug’. Ah know yer probably worried about us, maybe even a little nervous like we’re mad or somethin’. But we ain’t mad. Ah think Ah know why you did all that stuff last night. And as near as we can tell we ain’t hurt. No reason to get upset.”

“But you are upset,” Twilight said, “at Rainbow Dash.”

Applejack was quiet for a moment, focusing on the tree behind her. Twilight was very aware of Dash awkwardly watching from the next tree. “Whether or not Ah’m mad at Dash is between me an’ her.”

Thwack.

“Not when it’s about me!” Twilight insisted, following Applejack to the next tree. When Applejack lined herself up, Twilight leapt around between her and the tree. “Applejack!”

Applejack huffed and turned to face her. “It’s not about you, Twilight.” She glanced at Rainbow Dash and continued, “It was Dash that got us into that mess in the first place—”

“Hey!”

“—all because she was a little lonely.”

“I was not a little lonely,” Rainbow Dash snarled. She stomped up to Applejack. Her ears were folded back and her tail flicked angrily. She pointed her hoof at Applejack. “And you knew it was gonna be risky!”

“Since when did make-believe mean risky? We nearly died!”

“Yeah, several times, and it wasn’t always my fault! You kept going just as much as I did. Remember? When we first got underground? You turned away from the entrance and led the way!”

“Look, Dash—” Twilight started.

“You wanted to go after Cairo at their camp! Even though ya knew we were outnumbered, lost, and up against two Unicorns!”

“Applejack—”

“You got crazy mad at Cairo, too. You got so mad you nearly fell off a ladder. How’s that my fault?”

“Girls—”

“Sure as hay not me that—”

“It was me!” Twilight yelled, then winced at the sudden silence.

Dash paused, mouth open, ready to sling some other accusation. Applejack leaned back, eyes wide. Twilight plowed ahead. “You didn’t risk your lives because you had nothing to do. You didn’t risk your lives to get out of a few chores. You risked your lives because—” she paused, startled by a sudden thickness of guilt in her voice “—because I hate my crown and your wings and your incredibly complicated Earth Pony Magic.”

Applejack’s expression softened. “Twi . . . ”

“I stole the novel in the first place. I tried to bury you. I tried to drown you. I tried to tear you to shreds. What do you mean, you’re not mad at me?” she demanded.

“But those were the coolest parts!” Dash insisted. When Applejack glared at her she winced and added, “I mean, yeah. Okay. You might’ve gotten a teensy bit carried away. But yesterday was fun, mostly. And even if Applejack won’t admit it, she had fun too. Mostly.”

Applejack kept glaring, then gave Twilight an apologetic smile. “Twi,” she started. “Ah know you tend to blame yerself for things, but last night wasn’t yer fault. Sure, ya scared us into thinking we’d be buried. Ya put those ladders there and let us climb ’em. Ya gave us snapstones and let us miss, and hay, let me tell you how scary it is when yer friend takes her sweet time showing up at a rendezvous. None of that would make me mad.”

“But—”

“But,” Applejack said, cutting off Twilight, “whatever yer reason, it wasn’t you that wanted to—” Applejack paused, pursing her lips, then finally continued, “—that wanted to hurt Dash. Or me. That’s all that matters: it weren’t you.”

Twilight paused, mouth open.

“It’s plain that Shadow Magic got a hold of you,” Applejack continued, moving on to the next tree. “Stabbed you right in the back. We watched it grab yer hooves and grab Dash and grab that knife. Ah know you wouldn’t hold a knife over Dash, not ever, even for pretend.”

Applejack faced away from the tree, checked over her shoulder, and lined herself up. “You wouldn’t try convince me—” thwack “—that Ah had to beg for our lives.” Thwack. “You wouldn’t make yer best friends think you were actually dying.”

Crunch. The last few apples tumbled into waiting baskets.

“You wouldn’t try to make me face mah worst fears. Send me back to the dark place Ah used to know when things weren’t goin’ so well. Shove me flat up against the hardest decision Ah could ever have to face. The Twilight Ah know wouldn’t make me wonder whether it was worth another death in the family for the chance to save Dash. So how could Ah be mad at you? That wasn’t really you, right? Right?”

Applejack bucked the tree behind her so hard that it cracked down the middle.

“Tell me it wasn’t you!” Applejack panted, eyes shut tight, grimacing at the ground.

Twilight looked away. “It wasn’t me,” she whispered.

“You’re lying!”

“I’m sorry!” Twilight exclaimed, aware of how pathetic and thin her defense was. “I didn’t know any of that was going to happen. I didn’t realize anything was going on until it was too late. I thought everything was going really, really well. I know I got carried away—”

“Carried away?” Applejack barked.

Twilight looked away and muttered, “I just wanted you two to have a great adventure. I wasn’t trying to trick you. Honest!”

“Ah wouldn’t care if you had. Plenty of ponies try and trick us country folk all the time. It’s harder than ya think,” Applejack said. “What Ah care about is how easily ya toyed with me. Ah meant what Ah said down there. Ah’ve done some mean things before, and Ah don’t regret a single one of ’em. But Ah ain’t never been so willing to hurt somepony as Ah was last night, and Ah would’a regretted that. It hurts to know that pony would’a been you.”

Twilight hung her head.

Applejack turned to inspect the tree she’d injured. “Aw, shoot. Ah’m sorry, Marigold.”

“No way. I don’t buy it.” Dash stomped in front of Applejack. “You may have been this crazy wannabe-badass in the past but there’s no way you’d want to hurt Twilight—you wanted to save her.”

Applejack rolled her eyes. “Of course Ah wanted to save her. But Ah didn’t know how far gone she was. And if Ah have to choose between a friend who’s about to die, and the pony about to kill her—then, yeah, Ah choose the friend.”

Dash stepped back, looking like Applejack had suddenly grown wings and a horn. “You would never be too far gone,” she said, glaring. “Not if you needed saving. And neither was Twilight. Don’t you remember what you said? ‘Get yer ink out of her mind before you stain it completely’? That’s not what you say to a pony that’s too far gone—”

“Dash, stop. Please,” Twilight pleaded.

“No! She’s not allowed to be mad at you. You guys can’t hate each other!”

“We don’t hate each other,” Twilight said, before Applejack could say anything. “And she is absolutely allowed to be mad at me. You two were arguing just a moment ago.” Twilight glanced at Applejack before looking at her hooves. “You don’t hate me, right?”

Applejack scowled. “Yer certainly makin’ things real difficult.”

Applejack’s hooves appeared in front of Twilight’s. Twilight’s shadow backed up out of the way. Twilight winced. Applejack said, “Look me in the eye and tell me, Twilight. Ah need to know. You planned everything else. Was that Shadow Magic real?”

Keeping her head ducked, Twilight looked up at Applejack. “I know I made a mistake, Applejack—”

“Don’t tell me about yer mistakes!” Applejack towered over Twilight, even though she was normally shorter than Twilight. She looked angry—and desperate. “Just tell me, Twi, what—what is that?”

“Huh?”

“That!” Applejack leapt back and pointed at Twilight’s hooves. "Yer shadow!"

“What about my shadow?”

“Don’t’cha see it?”

“Of course I—Oh.”

Her shadow was trying to pull itself free. It stretched and reached and tried to fly away, but it was either very weak or not trying very hard.

Applejack’s shadow, in contrast, was not moving.

“That. I’m sorry. It’s been following me all morning. Hold on—I think I can—” Twilight ducked her head, tilting her horn towards her shadow. The magic to blast it with a full-spectrum sunbeam was simple. She flicked her horn and—

It’s my fault you’re down here—

A jolt of pain shot through her skull. She gasped, messing up the spell. Her sunbeam spluttered and sliced through the Shadow Alicorn’s hooves, disconnecting it from hers.

Still pressed out against the ground, elongated and skewed like all the others, the Shadow Alicorn stood facing her for several seconds. It flared its wings wide, stretching across the path completely, and stood proud. Twilight’s wings fluttered in a pitiful imitation, and Twilight, still ashamed in front of Applejack, couldn’t find the presence to stand it down.

Applejack and Rainbow Dash stood on either side, hooves spread, teeth bared and jaws clenched. Twilight wasn’t sure what they could do: the Shadow Alicorn was already in full view of the sun, and neither of them had any snapstones left.

Then, with a jerk of its horn, the Shadow Alicorn teleported away, leaving a cloud of mist to settle over the grass.

---

Twilight watched the shadow disappear. Already the strong sunlight was drying the dewy grass where it had stood.

“Did y’all just see that?” Applejack asked. “Ah didn’t imagine that, right?”

“Where’d it go?” Dash asked, jumping into the air. “C’mon! We can still catch it.”

Twilight took a deep breath. “Dash, what happened—”

“Come on, guys! Don’t do that thing where you stand around talking. It’ll be impossible to find a shadow if we lose it.”

“Dash,” Twilight said, louder.

“They’re literally everywhere!”

“Rainbow Dash!” Twilight yelled, watching the ground where the Shadow Alicorn had stood. It was long gone. “What happened to the book you brought out of the chamber?”

Dash blinked, and slowly settled on the ground. “I . . . don’t know,” she admitted with a wince. “I don’t think it was the Tome, if that’s what you mean. But it might have maybe possibly touched some of that ink on the ground?”

“Where is it?”

Dash shrugged. “I must’ve left it somewhere. I wasn’t really thinking about it.”

“You left a burning book in the grass?”

“Well it wasn’t burning then, obviously—”

“Hold on, I need a checklist—”

“That really wasn’t you, was it?”

Twilight paused, her horn ignited and ready to conjure her emergency checklist pack. She turned to face Applejack. Applejack had sat herself down and was staring in disbelief at the last point they’d seen the Shadow Alicorn.

“Well . . . that was my shadow, so—”

“Ah thought you were acting,” Applejack said. “Ah was certain you’d gone too far and didn’t wanna own up to it.”

“Applejack—”

“Ya made Cairo and those cats and those traps and all those ladders, right? Ya made a city designed to get us lost, filled it with monsters, and then tossed us down a waterfall. And you tell us that was all fine, no problem. No real danger. How could Ah believe all that stopped at the Tome?” She looked at Twilight, desperation on her face. “You made it out of a library book!”

Twilight rubbed at her forehead. “It’s not that simple,” she finally said. “I didn’t make Shadow Magic. At least, I didn’t mean to.” She looked at Dash. “Those spells in the book—that’s not how magic is supposed to work. Not on their own.”

“Huh? In the book?” Dash tilted her head, confused. “Well, duh. Even I know that.”

“But they did work, Dash,” Twilight explained. “Like real spells. I was reading them aloud and things happened.” Twilight frowned, nodding slowly, as thoughts occurred in her head.

“And that wasn’t just you doing magic without noticing?”

Twilight scowled. “Do you do flying without noticing, Dash? Unicorns generally don’t cast magic without intending to.” She took a deep breath, and exhaled. It was complicated, even for her, but they had to understand.

“There have always been radical theories about storytelling. Some . . . eccentric scholars believe it to be a powerful medium for casting magic. Not just from spellbooks, and not just the knowledge of magic, but a fundamental force in storytelling. That transcendance from reporting facts to storytelling grants the author a taste of that magic—sometimes fleeting, sometimes not.”

She glanced at their faces, wondering if they were still following. “Some of the most famous Unicorns were bards, and there’s no doubt they were capable of real magic. Most are famous because of their ability to tell stories about the powerful magic they’ve woven—but maybe the magic they’ve woven is powerful because of the stories they tell?”

“So, what?” Dash asked. “Somepony tells a good story and that casts magic?”

“Storytelling is magic, Dash. It’s just not normally the kind ponies associate with Unicorns.” Twilight shook her head. “At the risk of sounding incredibly arrogant . . . I think I created magic last night. New magic. Or, maybe I rediscovered old magic. There have always been stories about creatures that hide in the shadows and monsters that go bump in the night. Maybe that’s where Shadow Magic comes from.”

“No way,” Applejack said. “Parents tell their kids about bugaboos and spooks just to get ’em to behave. That don’t make ’em real.”

“Yeah! And just last sleepover you were telling scary stories too,” Dash said, then snorted. “Applejack shrieked so hard I thought she’d wet herself!”

“Hey! Ah did not—Get plowed, Rainbow Dash!” she said, smacking her.

Dash winced and rubbed her shoulder, but there was a smirk there, too. “So what’s changed?”

“I have,” Twilight said, feeling the bandage on her chest. “I’m an Alicorn. I’m the Princess of Magic. I can fly. I have Earth Pony Magic. And, apparently,” she said, whirling her hoof through the air, “I can accidentally make monsters and unleash them upon Equestria if I’m not careful. That’s—that’s—Ugh!” she growled, then deflated, sighing. “That’s just fucking great.”

Dash gasped in mock horror. “Twilight! Such language is unbefitting of a Princess.”

“Well, Dash, it’s a good thing I’m not a real Princess.”

“Oh. Yeah. Uh, classic Rainbow Dash,” Dash said, forcing out an awkward laugh.

They were silent for a while, then Twilight said, hesitantly, “I’m sorry, Applejack. The Shadow Magic wasn’t intentional, but me scaring you was. I’m sorry for putting you through all that without asking first.”

Applejack looked away and sighed. Twilight reached out to her, touched her shoulder. She was trembling. “Applejack?”

“It’s fine. I forgive you.” She swatted away Twilight’s hoof.

“Oh, Applejack—”

“Don’t Oh, Applejack me!” Applejack spun and glared. “Ah thought you and Dash were gonna die. Ah can’t handle that. Ah cannot bear the thought that you would leave me.”

Dash nudged up beside her, wrapped a foreleg around her, and chuckled. “Oh, Applejack,” she teased. “You clearly don’t know us very well if you think we’d leave you like that. I’m far too cool to die. You know that.”

Applejack coughed out a laugh.

Dash tilted her head. “And I’m pretty sure Twilight’s an immortal Princess now, so she won’t be dying any time soon.”

Don’t think about that don’t think about that don’t think—“She’s right, Applejack. And I’m sorry for that, too. For letting it go so far. I know that doesn’t make it right, but I am anyways.”

Applejack took a deep breath and nodded. “Ah know you are. Ah’m just gonna be a little salty for a while.” She gave a small smile. “Nothin’ a hard day of motivatin’ Dash can’t solve.”

Dash jerked back and stared. “Hey. Whoa! I’m still way sore from last night. And I’m already covered in all these scratches and bruises. I’ll be good. You don’t need to motivate me.”

Applejack laughed. “What’s done is done, Sug’. Ah know you didn’t mean nothing by it.” She looked Twilight in the eye and said, “That don’t mean Ah ain’t mad, but Ah forgive ya.”

That’ll have to do.

Finally Applejack climbed to her hooves. “What do we do about the Shadow Pony?” she asked, pointing off away from the sun.

Twilight looked from the horizon to Applejack’s hooves, then at her own. She wasn’t casting a shadow anymore. It was a little freeing.

“We find it,” she said, suddenly. Behind the guilt and pride, behind the shame and triumph was the one thing Twilight realized she’d needed all along: direction. “It’s weak now, but if it finds the right source of power it could become unstoppable.”

“We’re with you,” Dash said immediately.

Applejack nodded. “Obviously. And, Twi?” Applejack stepped up in front of Twilight. She didn’t look that imposing anymore. “That other Twilight, when she said you were having trouble and couldn’t talk to anypony? Said we didn’t listen when you wanted help?” Applejack wrapped a foreleg around her shoulders. How is she so strong all the time? “Ah meant every word Ah said down there—”

“You mean the bit about assault? Arson? A family history of vigilante justice?”

Applejack coughed. “Uh . . . Well, yeah. That too.”

Twilight blinked.

“ . . . but Ah meant the sister thing. Ah would do anything to keep you safe and happy. None of this would’a happened if Dash and Ah had paid more attention to ya, but y’all need to say so. Us country bumpkins are not known for readin’ minds.”

“Hey, yeah!” Dash said, nuzzling close. “We’re here for you.”

“Thanks,” Twilight whispered after a moment. A small smile snuck over her face.

“And, hey!” Rainbow Dash let go and backed up. “At least AJ and I agreed on one thing.” She and Applejack shared a grin. “It was an awesome adventure.”

“It was.” Applejack reached up and rubbed the back of her neck. “Ah don’t suppose you’d want to do your theater thing again sometime? Maybe with less stabby-stabby?”

“Well, I have a bunch of other Daring Do books at the library, so if you want—”

“Sometime,” Applejack repeated. “Not now.”

“Right. Maybe I’ll plan something and let you know.” She put a hoof to her chin and frowned, looking at her other hooves. “Until then, I need to see the Princess about the Shadow Alicorn.”

“Do you think she’ll be able to help?”

Twilight nodded. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned over and over, it’s that you can rely on your family and friends to guide you—whether you’re lost underground in an abandoned city, or lost your own head, surrounded by worries.”

Applejack and Dash leaned in, nuzzling close. Twilight closed her eyes and hummed happily. She knew that with the three of them working together, there was nothing they couldn’t do.

Then Dash coughed.

“Gay-yee!”

“Shut up!”

Author's Notes:

Author's notes are available here. The epilogue has been posted alongside this chapter.

If you haven't already done so, consider leaving a quick comment!

With assistance from Daetrin. Cover art by Foxinshadow. Alternate cover art by Diremuffin.

-wr