Applejack watched her older brother smash his hooves into the tree so hard she was afraid it might come crashing down. Apples rained down into the buckets on the ground, and Big Mac turned to collect them without so much as a backward glance in Applejack’s direction.

“Do you think…” Applejack said, her voice coming slowly even for her usual drawl. “Don’t you think you should talk about it?”

“Nope.” Big Mac hoisted one of the baskets onto his back with the skill of a pony who had spent his whole life harvesting and started trudging his way towards the barn.

Applejack paused to pick up one of the other full baskets, tossing it onto her back and balancing it with the same practiced ease. Even when she was on such an important errand, there was no way she could just leave work sitting there, undone.

“I really think you should talk about it,” Applejack continued, catching up with her brother as he reached the wagon. He hadn’t made it easy—Big Mac had been practically galloping to get away from her.

“Not much to say,” her brother said, his voice flat. He shrugged off the basket, which thumped into place in the wagon, before moving towards the harness. “Twilight’s working on a cure, there ain’t nothin’ a pony like me could do to make that go any better. Either the smart ponies will figure it out… or they won’t. It’s out of my hooves. Wasn’t never in them to start with…”

Applejack tossed her own basket into the back of the wagon, and no sooner had she done so than the wagon started rolling forward under Big Mac’s fantastic strength.

Fully loaded, the apple wagon weighed well over a ton. Big Mac seemed like he hadn’t even noticed the weight, and Applejack had to trot to keep up with him. She let the silence rest between them for several minutes. The wooden wheels bumped and rocked along the trail, rattling and shaking as it went.

Eventually, she figured Big Mac would have had enough time to recover from what (for him) represented hours of speech, and she responded. “It ain’t right what happened. What Dirge did… cursing you instead’a me. Hurting the ponies the girls and I are close to instead of going right for us. It’s just flat wrong.”

“Yup.” He pulled the wagon up past the barn, over to the ramp leading into the fruit cellar. Big Mac backed the end of the cart right up to the opening, where they would have the shortest possible distance to walk as they took full baskets into storage.

Applejack frowned at him. “I ain’t never met a unicorn better at what she does than Twilight Sparkle. She’ll find a way to lift the curse, before… before…”

“Before I die,” he finished, unhitching from the wagon and walking around back.

“Yeah,” Applejack followed close behind, and set about the chore of unloading. It was immensely satisfying to have something simple to do, something to make her sweat and also know she was helping to keep the family running. Like Big Mac, Applejack said little as she concentrated on the work. Saying anything would have only made her brother more annoyed.

So she worked, carrying baskets of full apples underground where they could be out of the heat and sun and last until winter. Her older brother’s last winter. Last time making cider…

“Do you think—” Applejack glanced around the entrance to the root cellar, checking for listening ears. Granny Smith wouldn’t be out wandering in the heat of the day, but there was no telling where Apple Bloom might’ve gotten to. Applejack saw no sign of her. “Have you decided when you’re gonna tell everypony?”

“Nope,” he pushed the cart out of the way, into its usual place on the side of the barn. “I ain’t gonna tell anypony. Not now, maybe not ever. They’ll find out when…” He stopped, eyes beginning to water. “When it happens. I just don’t see the sense in getting Apple Bloom and Granny Smith worked up about something none of us can change. Either your friends can find a cure, or…” His eyes narrowed. “What did you say the bad pony’s name was?”

“Dirge,” Applejack supplied, her mouth hanging open. Maybe following her brother around all day had been the right idea after all. If he was opening up.

“Dirge. Princess Celestia already took care of him, I’m sure. Nothing left for me to do.”

“She didn’t have to,” Applejack spoke slowly. “He’s dead. Casting the spell… guess it killed him. There’s all sortsa fancy reasons for it I’m sure.”

“There ‘ya go,” Big Mac proclaimed, turning away from her. “There ain’t nothing left for me to do. Can’t fix it, can’t get back at the pony who did it, can’t do nothing. I know how you are about telling the truth… but this is my truth to tell, sis. You won’t be tellin’ for me.” Big Mac bore down on her, his ears alert and anger seeming to issue from his nostrils in hissing blasts of steam. “You’re gonna promise me. Not one apple-bucking word about it.”

Applejack retreated. It wasn’t that she was intimidated by her brother, not exactly. It was, rather, that she was shocked to hear such an implied threat from a stallion who was otherwise gentle and kind to a fault.

She hesitated, scratching at the dirt with a hoof. Then she nodded. “I won’t say anythin’,” she eventually said. “But I can’t promise word won’t get around some other way that’s got nothin’ to do with me. You’re not the only pony affected, and I’m not the only pony who knows. How much more would it hurt Granny or Apple Bloom if they hear from somepony else instead of you?”

Her brother grunted, turning back to the field with a flick of his tail. “That’s on me.” He stalked away, sending up a little cloud of dust and dirt with every step.

Applejack knew the meaning of that gesture. He wanted to be alone.

She could still see him there, tied with rope thick enough to raise a barn, staked to the ground with five others. The ponies Dirge had thought were closest to Applejack and her friends. Six victims to a terrible curse.

Why didn’t he fight like a mare? If he had a problem with me, take it out on me! Going for a pony’s family… that just ain’t right.

It hadn’t been right, but it was done. By the time Applejack had arrived with her friends, it had been too late. The spell was cast, the consequences suffered by ponies who did not deserve them.

Applejack banished the painful memory, setting off at a trot. She passed the house, waving to Granny Smith through the open windows. Her grandmother didn’t notice the gesture—she was far too engrossed in her cooking to see anything else.

How will she react to losing her grandson? How will we keep the farm running without Big Mac? Each question had the same terrible answer: Applejack didn’t have a clue. Apple Bloom was far too young to pull the same share of the load that Big Mac managed. They couldn’t expect any more of her while she still had school to deal with.

And Granny… she might not survive the shock. She had already buried enough of her children to weigh her shoulders down when she walked.

Twilight will fix this. She fixes everything.

Applejack could always recognize a lie, even when she was telling one to herself. If it was so easy to fix, why did Celestia look so sad?

Applejack went walking past the house, past the barn, down the fence that lined Sweet Apple Acres. She watched her brother move through the herbs, weeding with the vigor of a pony who was running out of time. She pretended not to see, continuing down the road towards Ponyville.

Applejack passed over the bridge, the exact spot Big Mac had finally caught up to her all those years ago. She’d been running then, running from what she’d just learned.

She could almost see her younger self standing on the bridge, tears streaming freely down her face. “They can’t be gone!” the filly screamed up at Big Mac, who wasn’t so big back then. “They wouldn’t just leave!”

“They didn’t get a choice, sis.” Big Mac hadn’t been nearly so tight-lipped back then. “Nopony up and chooses when and how they wanna go. They weren’t careless either—that route was the safest there is. We haven’t lost a shipment through those mountains since…” He shook his head. “Well, that was the first one.”

Her younger self slumped against the railing, trailing her forelegs over the side. She had thought, very briefly, about throwing herself down into the stream. It wouldn’t have been a dangerous fall, of course, but young ponies could be dramatic. “You really…” Her words were barely discernable through her sobbing. “You really think they’re gone? There isn’t some chance… they made it through the rockslide, somehow? Maybe… some friendly miners saved ‘em, or… their train-car didn’t get as crushed as the ones holding apples?”

She had looked up at her brother’s face like the last ray of sunshine. He’d taken that sunshine away. “No chance, Applejack. They uh… found ‘em. They’re gonna be buried…” He sniffed, clearing his throat. “Tomorrow. Service is tomorrow. Closed casket. It’s, uh… not pretty.”

That had been it. Young Applejack had completely melted at that news. Big Mac had held her when she cried, for over an hour. Applejack hadn’t thought at the time what ponies passing on that bridge might’ve thought. Maybe they’d heard the news, and they gave the Apple family children their space. Maybe there hadn’t been much traffic on the bridge.

What would I have done without you, Big Mac? She looked down at the clear water off the bridge, exactly where she’d stood. Big Mac had been there for Granny at the funeral. Been there for her. Even been there for Apple Bloom, though the filly had been too young to know why everypony was crying.

Ain’t nobody gonna hold me like that at your funeral. Were it not for her friends, Applejack might’ve worried about the farm as she’d worried then. But life was different now—

Twilight Sparkle had already promised that, should the worst happen, her family wouldn’t be left high and dry. Applejack hadn’t asked, but she knew the others would help. Rarity had so much money coming in from her fashion business that the mortgage on a farm would probably vanish into the margins on one of her ledgers.

That was small comfort now. Applejack gritted her teeth and turned towards Twilight’s castle. The crystal eyesore was visible at all hours, though during the day it reflected the sunlight into an unnatural array of blues and purples.

I would’ve thought beating Nightmare Moon was impossible once, she thought. I never would’ve imagined we could have turned Discord into a friend. What’s one more impossible thing?

That was an angle she hadn’t considered, and it was possible Twilight hadn’t either. Applejack knew almost nothing about this spell, and she understood even less. All she knew was that it was supposed to be impossible to stop once it started. Her brother was doomed, as were all the other ponies who had been cursed. Yet, maybe someone else who was used to impossible things could help.

Applejack turned away from the castle, setting a course back across the bridge and towards Fluttershy’s cottage instead. Fluttershy’s own brother had been cursed, so there was no reason she wouldn’t be willing to ask Discord for help. Maybe he would be able to find something Twilight had missed.