Far From the Tree

by Rust

First published 13th of December, 2011

A mysterious pony turned to stone 1000 years ago is revived by the denizens of Ponyville.

[CANCELED AS OF NOVEMBER 24, 2012] The Cutie Mark Crusaders have really done it this time. In yet another attempt to earn their cutie marks after hearing an adventurous guest speaker in class, they set out for the Everfree forest to search the old castle ruins. After the ground collapses beneath them, they find themselves in a mysterious cavern. The Crusaders soon discover a stallion who was turned to stone by a cockatrice. After taking him back to town, they manage to thaw him out with the help of Twilight Sparkle. The stallion, one Sir Buck "Buckshot" Apple, claims to be a resident of Ponyville... That is, the Ponyville of one thousand years ago. The Crusaders take him to Sweet Apple Acres to meet the current generation of Apples, as well as to give him a tour of modern-day Ponyville. Misadventures ensue as the time-tossed knight, now the oldest living earth pony in Equestria, shows everypony how the champion of the old school rolls, and attempts to find a place for himself in a world that's all too familiar, but all too different at the same time. Sir Buck must come to terms with the events his disappearance gave rise to, as well as how to relate with a family legacy one thousand years in the making.

Edited by Nathan Traveler
Cover Art by SchitzophrenicNeko12 of deviantart.com

Everfree Fight Club

The sun may have been in the pinnacle of its arc, but none of its warmth managed to penetrate through the thick, dark foliage of a particular section of Everfree Forest canopy. While a Pegasus passing overhead may have remarked the wood looked almost peaceful, appearances can be deceiving. Below the treetops, the forest took on a new visage. It was a whole other world compared to the land beyond its borders. Despite an abundance of undergrowth, a cold chill managed to permeate though everything, setting frozen talons into rock and plant alike. The lack of light encouraged more fungal forms of life to spring up, mushrooms being the most prominent. The few leafy ferns that had dared defy their handicap were sickly; their growth stunted. The tall, ancient trees were usually coated in strange growths of lichen. The few who bothered to venture into the forest at night claimed that the lichen glowed with a soft, ethereal light.

At the very center of the forest contained a spectacular castle, with spiraling towers and observatories seemed to scrape the sky. Forty foot walls surrounding the main complex deterred even the most aggressive carnivore. Spells cast onto the stones left any who approached with hostile intentions feeling weak and nauseous. This was not a place for the inhabitants of the Everfree. At the center of the castle stood a formidable bastion made from rock cut by a nearby mountain. Here was the Royal Castle, in all its glory, home to the two deities of the land, Princess Celestial and her sister, Princess Luna. The presence of the two goddesses also helped ward off the unnatural tendencies of the land surrounding their home.

The Everfree had been this way for as long as anypony could remember. Even the two Princesses could not recall a time when the forest hadn’t been defying the natural laws of Equestria. The princesses had been around since the beginning, so it was assumed that the forest was just some fluke leftover from the bygone days of the days of lore, when the world was much, much younger, back before the Royal Sisters had wrested control of Equestria from the malevolent spirit of chaos, Discord. For whatever the reason, his magic still lingered in this place, and even the Goddesses of the Sun and Moon were unable to cleanse it. The land beyond the Everfree was perfectly safe, and the only "safe zone" in the forest was that of the castle. The vast majority of ponies avoided the wood at any cost. More than one foal had wandered into the trees, never to be seen again.

A shape moved through the murky gloom, ominously silent because of the spongy forest carpeting. Sticking close to the trees, it slipped from shadow to shadow. Coming to the edge of a clearing, the figure paused. Often, such open places harbored danger; the larger predators of the Everfree tended to use sites like this for ambush. A few tentative steps into the light revealed a large, equine shape of a pony - a stallion, to be precise. The pony in question glanced around the dimly lit clearing one more time before melting back into the darkness. In a place like this, erring on the side of caution was always better than erring on the side of boldness.

Quite some time passed the stallion by in this fashion. Steal through the dense woods, check another clearing, and continue on. Eventually, after heading due east for a time, the stallion came across a new opening. Roughly the size of a town square, the gap in the canopy was evident; actual grass grew here, along with various flowers and small shrubs. After a quick perimeter check, the stallion stepped into the clearing and let the light wash over himself. It was a welcome sensation after the dank, moist terrain he had been traveling in.

As ponies go, he was rather large. His coat was a dark teal color that seemed unable to decide whether or not it was more green or blue. A long, shaggy dark brown mane hung slightly over heavy-lidded eyes of an emerald green disposition, giving him the appearance of boredom. The stallion wore a gold bandanna worn jauntily around his neck, covering part of his deep chest. Two dark metal bands were worn on each muscular hind leg. The cutie mark on his flank displayed an bright red apple encircled by a horseshoe.

The stallion picked his way through the scrub with ease, following a path that had been hammered into the loam by many a creature travelling through the clearing. At the end of the well-worn trail, he reached the object of his journey.

A tree, not too big, not too small, stood at the exact center of the clearing. It was a rather unremarkable tree, with the exception of a plethora of large apples hanging from its branches.

The dark teal stallion shrugged off the saddle bags he’d brought with him. He opened up both pockets and set it on the ground to his side. With a fluid movement that could only have been achieved through practice, the stallion reared back onto his hind legs. He sank down onto his haunches until his spine was angled towards the sky, and launched himself off the ground like a hairy rocket. He soared up a good ten feet, and grabbed three red fruit; one in each hoof, one with his mouth. A satisfying thud was heard as the large pony returned to the earth, landing solidly on his thick hind legs. He deposited the apples into the saddle bag, and repeated the jumping-and-grabbing process until the bag could fit no more. The stallion jumped one last time, and retrieved a single apple. With a contented sigh, he sat down and began munching on the fruit. A reward well deserved.

Immediately after the apple was finished, the pony stood up to leave. He dug a shallow hole in the ground with his front hoof and neatly deposited the apple core within. After covering up the hole, the stallion turned to where he’d set his saddlebag full of apples. A movement on the far side of the circle caught his attention. Massive, feline paws exploded into the clearing, followed by the bulky form of a manticore. Part lion, part scorpion, part bat, and one terrible disposition towards ponies served to make the manticore one of the most fearsome predators the Everfree had to offer.

And it was bolting straight for the dark teal stallion, claws out, stinger at the ready.

In a blur of speed, the manticore leaped up high for its traditional tactic: the pounce. Thundering downwards, the hybrid sank its claws and tail into the exact spot the stallion had been one second before. A sharp whistle pierced the air. The manticore, puzzled at the sudden dissapearance of an easy meal, turned its head to look at what had made the noise.

The stallion was standing roughly fifteen feet behind it, nonchalantly inspecting a hoof.

"G'day, mate. Didn't your mum ever tell you that its rude to sneak up on a bloke when he's got his back turned?" it said with a cocked eyebrow.

The manticore did not understand Equestrian, but it would have made no difference. This pony was now as good as dead. The beast jumped backwards towards the stallion, bringing it's fearsome scorpion tail into range. The stinger shot out with a woosh, only to be knocked aside by a hoof. The stallion grinned cheekily.

"No beans, mate! How 'bout another go?"

The manticore's eyes narrowed to yellow slits.

WOOSH!

Miss.

WOOSH

Block.

"Crikey, this liddle kitty has a bit of a tempah!"

WOOSH

Another miss.

WOOSH-WOOSH-WOOSH

Miss-block-miss.

The manticore roared in frustration, spinning around to rush forward, catching the cocky pony off guard and sending them both into a rolling tussle. Now in close quarters, neither foe could move enough to use any of their natural assets effectively. Regardless, claws met flesh, and hooves met face. The screeching mass of pony and manticore careened around the clearing for a good minute before slamming into the tree. The force of the impact knocked the two combatants apart. Several apples fell from the tree onto the manticore's head. The stallion looked at the tree quizzically.

"What the hay..?"

The manticore chose this moment to close the gap once more. It slid into a hunting crouch and leaped at the dark teal pony. The stallion pivoted on his front hooves, turning a sharp 180 degrees and swinging his hind legs into postion. The stallion used the momentum of his lower body's movement to add power to his kick. The manticore's short flight ended with two hooves cratering its face. It landed in a dazed heap at the base of the tree. Giving out a low growl, it began to get back up.

The stallion had an idea. He sprinted toward the fallen manticore and leaped over it, planting both hind hooves on the tree behind the beast with a solid thunk. The stallion then pushed off from the tree, flew back over the manticore, who was now halfway up, and landed several yards away.

The manticore looked at its prey, dumbfounded. The stallion grinned and pointed his hoof towards the sky, indicating the hybrid should look up. An avalanche of large, red apples was the last thing the manticore saw before it lost consciousness.

The stallion checked himself over. His left eye was swollen shut and he had a nasty scratch across his muzzle. He took a few steps toward his fallen saddlebag and winced. Maybe a few broken ribs, too. He picked up an apple from the large pile at the base of the tree and took a bite. The stallion's injuries began to feel better instantly. He rubbed a hoof across his face. The scratch was already gone, and his eye was slowly returning to normal. His ribs might need a few more apples, but it had been worth it.

He had been right. There was a magical apple tree. And now he had a bag full of its apples, inside which were seeds. The stallion let loose a deep laugh. He'd have a whole orchard of the trees in no time at all, each tree heavy with wondrous magical fruit. He glanced over at the pile of apples. He had a new way to pick them, too. He'd call it "applebucking". Fitting, considering the stallion's full name was Buck Apple. He prefered "Buckshot" though, after proving his kicking accuracy by launching a rock into a small bowl from three hundred yards away.

Buckshot turned from the tree and trotted out of the clearing. He'd been here too long, and needed to leave the forest before night fell. Princess Luna had been acting rather strange of late, and odd things had begun happening at night. Buckshot scratched under his bandanna self-consciously. Ever since the tournament at the castle a few weeks ago, he'd worn it as a token from the Royal Family for proving his worth as the Champion of Ponyville. But it was what was under the bandanna that was bothering him. He lifted up the golden-yellow cloth with his teeth.

Eeyup. Sill there. Crikey, didn't know it bloody lit up like that.

Slightly glowing in the fading light of the forest was a white crescent moon, emblazoned upon his chest.

I hope you knew what you were doing, Princess Luna.

The Crusaders Go Crusading

Like all other days, the Ponyvile school house was ominously silent, seeming to hold its breath in.

Like all other days, the moments before the bell rang were thick with tension; you could cut it with a rubber knife.

Unlike all other days, the second the bell rang in Cheerilee's classroom, an explosion of desks, books, and students occured as the occupants of a few particular seats rocketed through the classroom doorway.

Three small torpedoes of energy, one orange, one light-grey, and one yellow, left tiny flaming hoofprints in the school hallway as they blazed a path toward the main entrance . In tight formation, the trio of pony-bullets would have resembled a squardon of jets, such was their speed and precision as they wove their way through the rapidly filling hallways. Papers flew through the air as the blurs zipped an easily startled teacher. A janitor foolish enough to be caught in the path of destruction was left in a comical spin before recovering a few moments later, eyeballs still rolling around dazedly. Several students would later claim to have been knocked over from the wall of wind following the rush a few seconds later.

One of the rapidly moving objects; the orange one, spoke to it's companions above the roar of moving air.

"Rainbow-3, checking in! Main thrusters are at fifty-five percent capaticy, over!" it said, guesturing to the small wings on its back, which were beginning to vibrate rapidly.

"Copy that, Rainbow-3, execute escape plan 'Scoot-de-loop'!" the center object, the one of a creamy-yellow coloration, barked with the hint of a southern accent. "Lancer-1! Release the payload in t-minus five seconds, over."

The light gray blur nodded in acknowledgement, producing a red, ball shaped object. "Count it out at three, Red-2, over!" the blur cried.

The end of the main hallway was in sight, the doors to the outside still unopened. Anypony who had the hint of an ounce of common sense had moved against the sides of the hall by this time, creating a channel running in a clear shot to the doors for the trio of bolts.

"...3!" barked the yellowish object.

The sight of the crowd on each side of the group started to blur from the speed, forming a kaleidoscope of color.

"...2!"

The orange creature piped up, "Thrusters at one-hundred percent! Turbo-drive engaging!" The wings on its back were moving so fast that they were emitting a sound similar to a racecar in high gear.

"...1!"

The yellowish bolt increased its speed, pulling ahead from the group a ways before jumping off the ground, hurling straight for the closed door.

"Fire!" it yelled.

A red apple, sent from the hoof of the light-grey wingman, sped into the doorknob, hitting with such an impact that the door opened slightly.

The yellow blur slammed into the door at top speed, aiming low so that it's rapid decrease in speed did not hinder the ones behind it. The door almost flew off its hinges from the force of the blow, and the three objects shot through the portal at different altitudes, the yellow one being the lowest, with the light grey one sandwiched in the middle by the orange bolt higher above, which had grabbed the top of the doorway with its fore-hooves. The orange object used its momentum to swing upward and nick a scooter from the very edge of the roof of the entrance pavilion while in the midst of a series of flips, arcing off in the direction of a nearby path. The light grey blur had pulled into the lead and had jumped into the back of the a red wagon parked nearby. The inertia of the object's movement sent the wagon screeching forward into the road. The object, which had slowed down enough by this action to be identified as Sweetie Belle, a unicorn filly with a pink and blue mane, who whipped around just in time to haul the yellow blur, which had caught up after hitting the door, into the back of the wagon.

"Apple Bloom! Where's Scootaloo?" Sweetie Belle cried.

The yellow blur, now revealed to be Apple Bloom, a sturdy earth pony filly with a deep red mane topped with a bow, responded only with a gasp. She lunged forward, pulling her freind down as Scootaloo buzzed down over the wagon from above, the scooter's back left wheel delicately nudging the bow on Apple Bloom's head. The little Pegasus landed in front of the moving wagon, attaching the back of the scooter to the wagon's handle in one smooth motion. The wagon, now being propelled by Scootaloo's wings, settled into a steady, but still quite rapid velocity.

"Sorry I'm late girls, but I had enough height to do a barrel roll!" Scootaloo crowed pridefully.

"CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS ESCAPE ARTISTS!" They all cried at once. Eagerly, they inspected their flanks.

Still blank.

"Awwwww!" Sweetie Belle whined, "I was sure we were gonna get them this time!"

Apple Bloom patted her back reassuringly. "S'okay, Sweetie. Ah'm sure we'll think of something tonight at Rarity's."

Scootaloo glanced back and nodded her agreement vigorously before returning her attention to driving. Sweetie Belle pouted. "I'm beginning to think we will never get our cutie marks, Apple Bloom! That was the fifth Crusade this week, and still nothing."

Apple Bloom put one hoof under her chin, adopting the universal thinking pose, or at least as best as she could in the back of the bucking wagon. "Why don't we change our strategy a bit?" She mused.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, lately we've all been tryin' ta come up with new ideas for our marks, but why don' we just go and try an' get a mark that somepony else already has?"

"Like who?"

"The crazy colt in town who lives in that blue boxy thing has an hourglass cutie mark. We could try to get one 'o those!"

Sweetie Belle pondered this. "Mr. Whooves? No, I don't think we should bother him. That cutie mark seems really... unique."

"Hmmmm... What about Dr. Pones?"

"You mean stallion who came to talk to the class today to talk about his job?"

"Eeyup! He had some kinda fancy-shmancy cup for a mark. Ah think your sister might 'ave liked it."

"It did have a lot of jewels on it." Sweetie Belle grinned, "Wasn't that what his mark was about? Finding treasure?"

"Somethin' called archeology, Ah think."

Further conversation was interrupted as Scootaloo drifted onto Stirrup Street, a broad avenue lined with shops that runs through Ponyville's center. Congested with ponies going about their day, it was a rather busy place. Barreling along at a fast clip, Scootaloo barely had the time to swerve wildly to the side, neatly avoiding crashing into Apple Bloom's older brother, Big Macintosh, who was busy hauling a large cart full of apples to the family apple stand. The two Crusaders in the wagon gave him a wave as they continued on, to which the enormous red stallion lazily returned to the quickly vanishing trio before to the continuing on his way, thoughtfully munching on a sprig of wheat.

"Eeeeeeyup."

A left turn (and a quick snack, thanks to the physics-bending properties of Pinkie Pie) at the tastefully decorated Sugar Cube Corner brought the Crusaders to the home stretch before they arrived at Rarity's house. The Carousel Boutique was a rather ostentatious building covered with intricate designs and ribbons, three floors high, and circular in nature. Each floor was smaller than the last, so from a distance the shop looked like a rather fashionable cake, capped with a small purple dome. Standing outside the store, attending to some garments handing from a line, was Sweetie Belle's sister, Rarity. Rarity was an elegant unicorn with a pristine white coat, an impeccably styled purple mane, and a trio of diamonds adorning her flank for a cutie mark. Her horn lit up a pale blue aura as she used her magic to carefully shake a large piece of linen free of water droplets before tossing it to hang over the clothesline. She turned at the sound of the approaching group, recognizing the sound of Scootaloo's engine-like wingbeats from the many times the Crusaders had stayed at her house.

"Girls, there you are!" She called as the Crusaders pulled up to the store. "I've been wondering where you were. Come inside, I've got dinner ready for you."

The Cutie Mark Crusaders obliged, following Rarity into the store. Passing through the front room, which served as the building's shop, they entered the kitchen. On a round table towards the right, a large bowl of hayfries gave off some light steam, indicating that they'd been completed quite recently. Surrounding the hayfries were several plates piled with leafy greens and assorted grilled vegetables. Scootaloo, who had been working hard since leaving the school, eyed the smorgasbord in a manner similar to a human teenager spying a particularly juicy double-bacon cheeseburger. Rarity noticed the eager filly and tutted, "Uh-uh-uh! Wash your hooves first, Scootaloo. That goes for both of you, as well" she added, looking at the other Crusaders. She closed her eyes in thought. "That wagon of yours is so dirty. You must let me spruce it up for you sometime." The Crusaders had vanished when she opened her eyes again, to reappear at the kitchen sink, all three attempting to wash her hooves at the same time. More water landed on the ceiling than it did on hooves, but the job was done after a little more scuffling and everypony settled down at the table to dig in.

Scootaloo simply dunked her entire head into the bowl of hayfries, eating ravenously. A Pegasus had a high metabolism normally, but an active one like her needed the extra fuel. Sweetie Belle mimicked her older sister, daintily taking bites from the fork she held in hoof. Apple Bloom, not exactly the most cultured pony, switched from stabbing large bites off of her plate to swiping a hooffull of hayfries from the bowl every time Scootaloo surfaced for air. Rarity tried to strike up a conversation; "So, what did you three do in class today?"

"Thhhherr wath uh guethhst thhhpeakur." Came the reply from the face buried in the bowl of hayfries.

"Scootaloo said that there was a guest speaker today. He came in to talk about his job." chimed Sweetie Belle.

"Oh? Who was he?" asked Rarity.

Apple Bloom paused, her fork halfway to her mouth. "It was Indianna Pones!"

"Indianna Pones? Here? In Ponyville", Rarity shrieked.

Scootaloo pulled her head up for a breather, cheeks stuffed with hayfries, and nodded once before returning to the feast.

Rarity wailed: "A famous celebrity like Indianna Pones was here! And I didn't get to see him! Oh! I could have showed him my new line of hats! He's sooo into his hats! He's never lost one on any of his adventures! Not one! Now there is a stallion who appreciates good head-wear!" She sniffled. "Of all the things that could happen, this is, the worst possible. THING!" Her horn lit up, and a fainting couch slid into place next to her, which she promptly fell onto in an unconsolable sulk. Sweetie Belle shrugged at this.

"She'll be fine in a few minutes." she stated to the other Crusaders. Scootaloo pulled out of the bowl, now empty, and contentedly lean back in her chair to let out an enormous, window-rattling belch. Apple Bloom giggled, "Nice one, Scoots! But I was doin' em at that level when Ah was three! Lemme show ya'll how we do things down at the farm."

The darkness fell gently, like a soft, dark blanket being lain over a foal by its mother. The stars were out in full force, twinkling brightly in great multitudes. The nights had been exponentially more beautiful ever since Princess Luna had returned to her duties.

The Cutie Mark Crusaders, however, were too busy planning their latest escapade to notice.

"...and when we find it, POOF, our marks will all appear!" said Sweetie Belle.

"Just think, having cutie marks of priceless treasure! It'll be the coolest thing ever!" cheered Scootaloo.

"We'll be just as cool as Indianna Pones!" finished Apple Bloom.

A hoof-drawn map was spread out inbetween the fillies. "CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS ARCHEOLOGISTS!" was written in thick lettering at the top of the illustration. It depicted a crude sketch of Ponyville and the surrounding countryside done in crayon. A meandering dotted line snaked its way from a poor replica of the Carousel Boutique, out of town, and into the dark green patch taking up the lower half of the map. The line comically looped around a few times before ending in a red "X" drawn over what looked to be a ruined castle. Next to the castle was writing in smaller lettering:

The three fillies rolled up the map and jumped into bed. They needed the rest.

After all, they were leaving first thing in the morning.

Roots of the Apple Tree

Buckshot gamely trotted down the path to Ponyville. Darkness had fallen, but he'd made it out of the forest before the nocturnal predators of the Everfree awoke from their diurnal hibernation. A half-moon lit the way back to town, and the few stars out tonight glittered furiously, seeming to shine brighter in the absence of their nearby fellows. A few clouds were moving from the forest behind him towards the town, but that was nothing the town's new weather-Pegasus couldn't handle. Buckshot grinned as he thought about the newest addition to Ponyville.

Crikey, that filly could make gold from those clouds if she ever had half a mind to. 'Bout time we got one of those bloody fliers, I was gettin' fed up with not knowin' what the weather would be.

He adjusted his path towards the side of the road, unwilling to step in the deep ruts left by the supply caravans that had been coming in from Canterlot on a weekly basis. Supplies to the fledgling town of Ponyville had been fairly steady, and for that Buckshot was grateful.

Ponyville had been founded not five years earlier, and his family had been some of the first to sign the town charter. Originally just a few stores clustered together on the road from Canterlot to the Royal Palace, Ponyville had begun to grow after Buckshot's father, Crab Apple, moved his family here to start a new life. The Apples had come to Equestria two decades ago from the far off continent of Austailia, across the southern ocean. They had spent the first ten years roaming their new land, never settling down for long as Crab performed odd jobs in various towns and cities. Then, after renting rooms for a while at a ranch, the Apple family had tried their hoof at farming, for which they seemed to have a natural aptitude. The Apples soon bought a stretch of land outside Manehattan, in the village of Stable, located at the base of Stable Mountain. Five years had gone by, five wonderful years of full harvests and even fuller bellies, until the fateful day that the ironically named Stable Mountain had revealed itself to be a volcano, violently erupting.

Great clouds of smoke had blackened the sky, and if it wasn't for the timely intervention of Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, many miles of surrounding countryside would have been buried beneath rock, ash, and fire. Sadly, the area directly around Stable Mountain had been lost, including the village and the Apple's farm. Both of his parents had been lost to the inferno, swallowed up by cloud of superheated gas that raced down the mountain at near super-sonic speed. Buckshot and the rest of his family had barely escaped with their lives. A few meager possessions had been hastily stashed into saddlebags, and now they were all the Apple family had left. A few hundred bits, the family didgeridoo, two bags of food, various items of clothing, and a new cutie mark.

Buckshot had earned his mark through sheer determination and and a strength born out of desperation to protect his loved ones. The Apple farm had had a large basement used for preserving crops and barrels of grain. His family had hunkered down there, before hearing of the Princess' evacuation order. As they raced to pack up, a boulder had fallen onto the house, crushing the top two floors together like a pancake, and rendering the staircase out of the basement an invalid escape route. The house's collapse had broken large holes into the basement ceiling. His mother and father had been buried by falling debris coming through the biggest of these holes. Buck had heard his father's muffled voice, coming from under the wreckage, calling for him to take his kin and flee. The sky could be seen through several large gaps in the newly damaged ceiling, and the family realized they were now trapped in a hole, which is never a good thing with lava heading their way. Buckshot had risen to the occasion, and pounded his way through solid stone slab used as a basement hatchway to create the only path out. His cutie mark appeared on his flank once they were all outside. He didn't even notice it until several hours later, when they had all managed to get to safety. To this day, the image of the horseshoe on the apple-red shield on his flank gave him bittwersweet feelings.

I found my special talent all right... But at what cost?

Mourning the loss of their land and kin, the now diminished Apple family had struck out once again, this time settling in the most peaceful place they could think of, halfway between Canterlot and the Royal palace. Five more years had passed, and as the Apples built up their new home, the few scattered thatched huts around them had grown as well. Thanks to the new source of food coming from the farm, the area could sustain more inhabitants. Almost all of the new arrivals had been Earth Ponies, whose innate connection with the land had tipped them off to the potential for new life here. The town had not grown overnight, and it wasnt until recently that they had been getting raw supplies for building shipped from Canterlot, which had recognized the importance of a stopover on the long path between it and the Royal Palace. A lot of hard work had gone into building the town, but there was still much to be done. With barely over one hundred and fifty residents, Ponyville was the smallest official settlement in Equestria. Buckshot was proud to say that he knew the name of every single pony in town, though. Every new addition to the population was meaningful.

Now, with Ponyville's first Pegasus resident managing the skies from a newly constructed cloud-tower, crop production had risen threefold at the farm. The trickle of new arrivals had blossomed into a small but steady stream. The loud bangs and crashes associated with the building of houses had become a constant companion to the town's inhabitants. Although initially bothersome, it had grown into a comforting background noise.

As Buckshot made his way through town, many ponies stopped to wave and call out their respective greetings. Buckshot was one of the most prominent members of their burgeoning community, both figuratively and literally. His farm fed the entire town, after all, and there was nopony else in the closet hundred leagues that even came close to resembling him. Buckshot plodded up the newly worn path that ran through the rough center of Ponyville; the one that ponies were beginning to call "Stirrup Street". The large stallion stumbled a little on the ruts left by the latest caravan to have passed through. He dimly remembered seeing cobblestones in some of those wagons. That explained the deep tracks they left.

Maybe we're gonna pave the streets with 'em. 'Bout time those wankers in Canterlot got off their plots and sent us something useful. What was their last shipment? Oh, right. Fenceposts. Next we'll be getting scones stuffed with dynamite! Unhelpful bastards.

The Apple family house wasn't much to look at. A squat, unpainted two story ranch house with a small roofed patio circling the front to overlook the fields, it had been hoof-built by Buckshot and some of the older members of the clan.

They weren't very good builders.

But as they say, home was where the heart was, and Buck's heart was definetly in that house.

"Daaaaaaaaaddyyyyyyy!!!"

A small yellow mare with a long, curly strawberry-red mane and ocean green eyes shot through the front door and off the deck at near the speed of light. She proceeded to slam into her father, wrapping her forelegs around his neck in an embrace. Caught off-guard, Buckshot was knocked flat onto his hindquarters. Not an easy thing for a half grown mare to do to a pony so big. He cracked a dazzling smile as he returned the gesture, squeezing his daughter tightly to his chest.

"Blossie!" he said warmly. Buck simply couldn't put his happiness into words, so he just called her by her nickname instead.

Apple Blossom stopped nuzzling his chest to hopefully looked up into her father's eyes. "Did'ja get 'em, daddy?" she asked hopefully. She spoke with a curious mix of Austailian and Equestrian accents. A human overhearing it might have thought it sounded like she was from the American South-lands.

"Eeyup." He set his saddlebags down and pulled something out of the left pocket. "Gotcha something' too, ta boot."

He opened his hoof to reveal a small pink bandanna, with which he carefully folded into a strip before wrapping around Blossom's head, pushing her long mane out of her eyes.

Blossom's eyes grew to enormous size and her smile grew with them. She felt the new accessory on her head with a hoof.

"Good onya, daddy! Ah love it soooo much!" She hugged him all the tighter.

If cutenesss could kill, this would have been a death sentence for the universe.

"Oh, righto, I almost forgot. Blossie, I found a new way to pick things from trees. You just give it a whacko with your hind legs, and the fruit falls like rain in the outback."

A new voice spoke up. "Hey there, handsome."

Leaning on the porch railing was a slender, light red mare with a spiky, shortly cut (but highly stylish) golden mane, and cyan eyes. Adorning her flank was a trio of leaves, silhouetted by a sun.

This was Leafdapple; Buckshot's beloved wife.

Buckshot rose off his haunches to stand, slightly off balance due to a giggling Blossom still dangling from around his neck. He ran to his wife and proceeded to tightly embrace her. He breathed in her scent, burying his nose in her mane.

Discord's dingleberries, she smells like seven kinds o' wonderful.

"Happy to see me, dear?" she said with a smirk, slightly out of breath. Buckshot's hugs tended to compress one's lungs a bit. Buck answered by Planting a long, tender kiss on her lips. After finally surfacing for air, he looked at his wife. She was blushing furiously, eyes still half-lidded from the kiss.

"You've got no bloody idea." he growled.

Apple Blossom, sandwiched between the two, let out a gagging sound. "Blech! Botha ya'll stop that nonsense 'afore I hurl my lunch!"

Buckshot stepped out of the embrace, slightly embarrased to have done that in front of his foal. Leafdapple shot Buck a wink that said, "We'll continue this later." She motioned back towards the ranch. "Are you going to stand outside all night, or do we have to bring out some blankets?" Buckshot sheepishly picked up his saddlebags by the teeth and nodded towards the house, indicating that he'd follow her in. Apple Blossom disengaged from her iron grip and fell down to the ground on her hooves. She happily pranced around her father as the three Apples made their way through the threshold of the building.

The first room of the house was a large eating room. An enormous, thick slice out of a pine tree trunk served as a table. Several threadbare cushions were thrown haphazardly around it. The kitchen could be seen behind a wooden countertop. Leafdapple and Apple Blossom sat down around the table, eagerly motioning for Buck to join them. Buckshot sat his saddlebags down onto the pine slab. Before he sat down, he asked, "Where are the others?"

Leafdapple shrugged. "They're already in bed. It's very late, and we volunteered to be the ones who would stay up on watch for your return." She guestured to the saddlebags. "So... did you find it?" She half whispered, half sang. Her husband nodded eagerly. He opened up the bags and dumped the apples onto the table in a red tide. Apple Blossom picked one up in her hooves, eyeballing the fruit like it might burst into flame.

"Do they really do what the Princess said, daddy?"

Buckshot didnt answer. He got up from the table and trotted into the kitchen. Apple Blossom and Leafdapple could hear the large stallion rummaging through drawers. Mother and daughter shared a look. Buckshot tended to speak only when he felt it was needed. If he was going to answer that question, it would be in an interesting way. Buckshot returned to the table with a knife in his mouth.

"What are you...-" Leafdapple started.

Buckshot quickly drew the tip of the blade over his hoof. A thin red line appeared as some blood began to ooze out of the shallow cut.

"Daddy?!" Apple Blossom couldn't make heads or tails out of this. What was her father doing?

Buckshot set the knife on the table, and picked up one of the apples. "Watch." he said. He took a large bite from the apple and set it down. Then, he held up his wounded hoof. His family's eyes widened as the small gash closed itself up. Not even a scar remained to tell of its existence. The apple's magic was flawless. Leafdapple slumped backwards to lean against the wall. She closed her eyes in thought, brow furrowed. A long time passed.

"This will change everything." she eventually stated with a sort of regretful finality.

Apple Blossom nodded sagely in agreement. "Eeyup. Folks will be comin' over from all over Equestria, Ah reckon."

Buckshot picked up the bitten apple. "Not yet, sheila. There's a hitch to this grand scheme of ours." He presented the face of the apple which he had taken bite of to his family. "What do you see?" he questioned them.

Silence. Then, Leafdapple's eyes widened as it hit her. "There's only one seed!"

Buck sighed wearily. "Righto. That means I'm going ta have ta go back for round two."

"But why? We've got at least fifty apples here! Thats fifty seeds, eventually growin' inta fifty trees!" Blossom reasoned.

Leafdapple answered this one. "We plowed our field for double that number. We can't let half of our work go to waste. There are no other spare seeds to plant there, either. Might as well fill it to the brim with magic apples."

Buckshot broke in. "And time's slippin' by like water through a barbie grill. I'm leavin' tomorrow for another haul."

Blossom shook her head. "Jus' seems like a waste of a day to me. Ah don't see the sense in goin' out fer more when ya'll got a perfectly good stock right in front of ya."

Buck rubbed his temples with his hooves. "Your mum and I have been hoping for this for years, Blossie. Now that the Princess has so generously let our dream become real, I dont plan on throwin' any bloody half-strength kicks. Its all or nothin', savvy?"

"Iffin' ya say so." Blossom's voice agreed, but her eyes blazed with a stubborn dignity.

Buckshot rose from the table and cracked his weary joints, starting with his fore-legs and ending with his hind ones. This signaled that it was time to go to bed. The discussion had taken a long time, and the night was beginning to lighten as Celestia's sun approached the horizon. The three Apples would only have a few hours of sleep tonight.

I'm not heartless, I'll let them sleep in. Bless their hearts for watching out for me. But I'll be up with the sun. I've got another bloody trip to make, after all.

The Storm Breaks

Pinkie Pie woke up rather abruptly. Granted, she also woke up in the bathtub, covered in bubble wrap and chocolate sauce, and with a very hungry toothless baby alligator gnawing on her tail. Ponyville's Premier Pink Partier, Pinkie Pie had often woken up in situations like these. Just last week, in fact, after a party she threw in honor of the party she'd had the night before, she had woken up duct-taped to the underside of Mayor Mare's desk. The mayor's office had been coated in a thick, even layer of strawberry cake frosting. That one had taken a bit of explaining. Pinkie Pie giggled as she climbed out of the tub, fondly reliving other notable aftermaths in her head. She called to the baby alligator, who was trying to pop a bubble from the wrap in his mouth with no success. "Common, Gummy! I got a feeling something big is gonna happen today!"

The small green reptile let out a gurgle similar to the noise of toilet unclogging.

Pinkie Pie snorted. "No, you silly-filly! My Pinkie-sense is going off the wall. It's a new one; I don't think I've ever felt this before!" She gestured to various places on her body. "Tingly tail, itchy kneecaps, twitching nose, and a slight build-up of acid in the kidneys!" She stopped and thought for a second. "Oh, scratch that last one off. I just need to pee!" Pinkie Pie tossed her pet gator out of the bathroom and shut the door. "No colts allowed in the fillies room!

The Cutie Mark Crusaders had woken up the moment Celestia's sun shot it's first beams of light through the bedroom windows. They'd crept past Rarity's room on the edges of their hooves. They'd left a note on her door explaining where they'd be and what time they expected to return. Now nopony could say they ran off without telling anyone where they'd gone. Provided Rarity didn't wake up in the next hour, they'd already be in the Everfree. That was unlikely. Rarity always slept late. Something to do with "Getting my beauty sleep, darling!". Older-mare stuff like that.

Ponyville's streets were always quiet this early. Few ponies were out; usually the ones that were spent their time in the marketplace, prepping the merchandise stands for the days sales. The Crusaders did have a few close calls, though. Rounding a corner, they'd almost collided with Ditzy Doo, Ponyville's beloved cross-eyed mailmare. Ditzy had been flying through the streets like a pinball, yelling something about how "the muffin was coming!". Luckily, she had been too distracted to notice the caped foals hugging the shadows.

Once the Cutie Mark Crusaders had reached the edge of town, they switched from walking to riding in the wagon. While this method if travel was significantly faster, the noise of Scootaloo's hummingbird wingbeats would wake up half the town had they used it there. The trio buzzed along at a brisk pace. They'd be at the Everfree Forest in a few minutes. As long as they didnt pass anypony on the path from the village, they were in the clear.

Apple Bloom dug around through her saddlebags, performing a last minute check in the back of the wagon. "Snacks, rope, a hammer, matches, stakes.... What in tarnation is this?". She removed a stick of dynamite. "Scootaloo, Ah thought you said you wouldn't be bringin' any 'o this stuff! Remember what happened last time?". Scootaloo looked back briefly and shrugged, indicating she didn't know anything about the explosive.

"Sorry Apple Boom, I thought it might be a good idea to bring, you know, in case we have to blown open a collapsed doorway or something." Sweetie Belle bashfully stated.

"Sweetie Belle? You brought this? Where did ya even find it?" Apple Bloom looked at her friend in amazement.

"Rarity uses it sometimes to get gems out of cliffs and boulders."

"Tarnation, girl! We gotta be careful with this stuff! Fluttershy's chicken coop still has sum scorch marks on it, ya know."

Sweetie Bell shuddered involuntarily. Fluttershy had given them an extra powerful version of The Stare for that particular incident. It still gave her nightmares. "When I look back, trying to get our cutie marks in demolition may have been a bad idea."

Scootaloo looked back again and nodded vigorously, eyes wide.

The trio fell silent as the wagon passed under the first trees of the forest. They were now in the Everfree.

Next stop, the castle ruins.

Buckshot grimaced as he felt a fat raindrop fall through the trees and smack into his snout. He'd left at dawn, affectionately kissing goodbye his sleeping wife and daughter in their beds.

Horseapples. Forgot there was gonna be a thundie t'day.

The sky above was roiling with black, tumultuous clouds. Thunderheads soared upward before cresting into the traditional anvil-head shape. The sun's light barely penetrated the thick cover, and was dimmed even further by the Everfree canopy. While it may have been late in the morning, the darkness made it feel like a particularly black night. Spectrum Sprint, the multicolor-coated weather pegasus, was enjoying her new job a bit too much. Ironically, Buckshot had been the one to schedule it with her. But that had been a few months ago. A lot had happened since then, and the storm had completely slipped his mind.

Few month ago, I wasn't Ponyville's bloody Champion. One month ago, magic apples were still a bloody myth.

He turned his bandanna around his neck. The moon on his chest began glowing brightly underneath, casting enough light to see by.

Few months ago, I wasn't a bloody hero.

He remembered the tournament. It had been held at the Royal Palace and attended by ponies from every place in Equestria. Literally. Every town was supposed to send a few representatives, and Buckshot had been nominated to go along with Rust and Ragdoll, a couple that had recently arrived in town. The Tournament was intended to select a sort of lieutenancy from the Princesses for one of the chosen ponies from each town. The idea was that with competent ponies managing their towns and representing the Crown, the Princesses could rule their subjects more effectively. It was like being elected mayor, only you had to protect your settlement from everything that threatened it if you were chosen.

And the only way to leave office was to die.

The events in the Tournament had been designed to test a pony's bravery, their capability, their intellect, and their heart. Various scenarios had been presented to each contender by the Princesses themselves by the means of a magical simulation. The events had made no sense to Buckshot. For his first challenge, he was instructed to defeat an Ursa Minor. Armored to the teeth, he'd knocked the beast out with a swift kick to the side of the head. He was the only one who managed to do it. He'd expected to win right there, but the Princesses barely acknowledged his feat. Even stranger, for his next task, he was asked to change a diaper. Buckshot chuckled at the memory. Despite the randomness of each challenge, he'd performed to the best of his ability. Many, many challenges had tested him in everything from how he lead others under stress to how he folded his laundry. He'd done the best of the three Ponyville; Rust and Ragdoll had forfeited under mysterious circumstances. In the end, he'd been given the title of Sir Buck Apple, Champion of Ponyville. And to his suprise, he'd done better than almost all the others there. After the awards ceremony, after he'd been knighted and recieved his golden bandanna, an audience with the Princess Luna had been requested, and he'd nervously obliged.

The Princess of the Night had blessed him, and then the mark on his chest had appeared.

"You have proven thyself to be a courageous, intelligent, and noble stallion. We give you the blessing of the Night, that thou mayst serve Equestria in a form far beyond your abilities." she'd said. Buck had no idea what she meant. Still didn't.

She'd also offered him one wish as a reward. After much thought, he came up with the perfect one. He'd asked for a way to ensure his family's well-being. It had been granted by the creation of the magic apple tree. Princess Celestia had seen him after, and presented him with his golden bandanna.

The Princesses had invited him back to the Royal Palace on a later date to explain their actions. The tournament left them too busy to spend time with more than one pony for more than a few minutes. Buck had decided to go once his orchard was up and running.

Sorry, sheilas, family matters come first. I'll be sure to have that talk with ya, but in me own time.

A twig snapped somewhere behind him, bringing Buckshot back to reality. He turned his head to look behind him as he walked. Suddenly, his hoof caught on a root while his head was turned. He fell over the side of formerly hidden slope and proceeded to bounce down a long decline, coming to rest in a misty depression. He landed facedown in the mossy turf. An enormous silver oak tree towered above him to the left. The stallion spat out some dirt and looked around. This area did not look familiar.

"Celestia's mane, where in blue blazes am I..?"

He tried backtracking, but the fall had disorientated him. The now-raging storm above didn't help one bit, either. He focused for a bit, then the glow coming from his mark increased, effectively becoming a silver flashlight, cutting through the velvet blackness around him. The forest seemed especially sinister all of a sudden. Buckshot felt bile rise in the back of his throat. He had absolutely no idea where he was.

No. This can't be happening.

Buckshot began sprinting. He had to get find his way back. He couldn't just stand there. He tore off through the dark forest, barely avoiding running head on into trees thanks to his moon's light. Shapes whipped past him as he crashed through the undergrowth. A clearing opened up in front of him, and in his panic, Buckshot forgot one of the most basic rules of survival in the Everfree Forest: never go into open spaces. Realizing his mistake, he turned around to exit the clearing.

Nonononononono...

Lightning crashed overhead. The flash illuminated the forest for a split second. In that one second of brilliance, it revealed the one thing nopony should ever see.

A cockatrice stood before Buckshot. It was looking him dead in the eye.

Horseapples.

That last thought was frozen as his body turned to stone.

SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT: Right, so I thought I'd make things a little interesting. How would YOU like to be a part of this story? Send me a message explaining why you feel you could make this story better, and a description of the OC you want put in. I'll announce your entry into the story at the beginning of the chapter they are introduced. Keep in mind, your part may be major, or nothing more than a cameo. Depends on how I like your character. You have until New Years Day. Good luck.

Thawing Out

It was approximately five minutes after noon when the ground began to shake. As earthquakes go, it was a rather small one, and the effects were barely noticed in Ponyville. A trembling cup of water, a chandelier swinging slightly, or a sudden tingly sensation in the hooves were all that was noticed. However, at the direct epicenter of the quake, the Everfree Forest, the unleashed forces manifested themselves much more violently. The shaking devastated a certain stretch of the Everfree, and three particular fillies bore witness to the upheaval.

Scootaloo, Apple Bloom, and Sweetie Belle had managed to travel quite some distance, using the position of the sun as reference to their direction and their crudely-drawn map. The Cutie Mark Crusaders had paused on a ridge line overlooking a depression in the forest floor for some snacks. The slightly mushed apple-fritters dug from Apple Bloom's saddlebags tasted delicious, and the Crusaders were busy munching away when they noticed the area they were overlooking was acting strangely. Scootaloo, being a Pegasus, had the sharpest eyes and spotted the disturbance first. "Hey guys... Why are all the trees over there shaking?" Almost immediately after she said that, the ground under the fillies feet gave a heave and all three tumbled onto the ground. Apple Bloom stood up, spitting out leaves.

"What in Celestia's mane was that? Scoots, Sweetie, ya'll okay?" She brushed some dirt off her coat with her tail.

Sweetie Belle frowned. "I think that was an earthquake. I read about these when I was visiting Twilight's library with my sister. They only happen in the Everfree, apparently."

Scootaloo gasped, and pointed over to the stricken area of forest. "I can see some trees have fallen down! Come on, lets check it out! I bet there are some neat things over there!" She picked up her fallen scooter and reattached it to the wagon.

Apple Bloom hopped into the back, while Sweetie Belle stayed where she was.

"Sweetie Belle, les' git a move on! Ah bet we'll find all kinds o' stuff in the holes them trees ripped up." Apple Bloom motioned for her to climb in the wagon.

Sweetie Belle looked doubtful. "I don't know, guys... What if another earthquake happens? I read something about how they have 'aftershocks', or whatever that means."

Scootaloo turned around and laughed. "Sweetie, you're starting to sound like Twilight. Do you want your cutie mark in something cool, or something lame?"

Sweetie Belle pouted for a few seconds, then climbed into the wagon. "Fine, but if something goes wrong, and it usually does, don't say I didn't warn you."

Scootaloo revved her wings a few times, and started off towards the epicenter.

If trees were considered sentient, then ground zero of the damage would have been considered genocide on all things covered with bark. Not a single tree was standing in an area the size of a couple city blocks. The fallen debris made travel with the wagon extremely difficult, so Apple Bloom took over pulling, using her teeth to pull the wagon. Scootaloo acted as as scout by climbing up the broken spars and stumps, calling out where the other landlocked Crusaders should go next. She used her underdeveloped wings like a sugar glider, moving from vantage point to vantage point by jumping from her perch and drifting down across otherwise rugged terrain before climbing another piece of woodland wreckage. It was a technique she often had to resort to; her wings were still too small to give her any lift, regardless of how fast she could flap.

From atop a particularly jagged spear of a tree-trunk, Scootaloo paused to pick a splinter out of her hoof. She looked down at her two friends carefully snaking their way through the wreckage. The fallen trees had created a sort of maze. The thick trunks acted like walls, and were often too mossy to climb over. From her vantage point, Scootaloo could see an uncharacteristically open area that had remained clear of most of the downed forest. Must have been a clearing before the trees came down.

"Hey! Sweetie Belle! Apple Bloom! There's an open spot around that tree on your left!" Scootaloo gestured to the clearing with a hoof. "I'll meet you guys over there!" she called down.

Apple Bloom didn't look up from her task. The forest floor wasn't exactly smooth, and without Scoots' wing power the going was tough. Sweetie Belle acknowledged the call with a wave and set off in the direction Scootaloo had pointed.

Satisfied that they'd understood, Scootaloo threw herself out into open space with a mighty heave and began gliding toward the clearing. She had passed over the two Crusaders on the ground when she noticed something strange happening to the ground intended as her landing zone. A faint rumbling hummed in her ears as the earth began to form a sort of shallow bowl-shaped depression about the size of a house. Unable to stop herself, Scootaloo landed right in the newly-formed crater. No sooner had she set down when the ground let loose a rumble of protest. The dirt gave way beneath her. Scootaloo let out a startled yelp as she plummeted into blackness.

"Sweetie, what in tarnation was that?!" Apple Bloom yelled. There had been a weird sort of thunder, as if it was coming from the ground.

Sweetie Belle's eyes were as wide as dinner plates. "It came from over where Scootaloo went!"

The pair abandoned the cart and rushed toward where their pegasus friend had headed. Rounding a mass of torn-up roots, they entered an clearing surrounded by the carnage the quake had wrought. In the center of the clearing was a large hole. It looked like it had been created recently. The two Crusaders approached the edge of the hole cautiously. They could faintly see Scootaloo far down at the bottom of the dark shaft, pulling herself out of a pile of dirt.

"Hey, Scoots, ya'll ok down there?" called Apple Bloom, her voice thick with concern.

The reply was faint. "Yeah... I think so..."

Sweetie leaned over the edge. "Just stay put, alright? Just stay put! We'll be right back!"

Down in the hole, Scootaloo couldn't help but laugh a bit. "Where else could I go?" she said to herself.

Sweetie Belle turned to Apple Bloom. "You brought the rope, right?"

Apple Bloom nodded.

"Good. We need to pull her out of that pit."

The two returned to the wagon, where Apple Bloom had left her saddlebags. After a bit of somewhat frantic rummaging, the rope was produced from the left bag. Apple Bloom picked up the bundle in her mouth and they returned to the pit. They could hear Scootaloo yelling something from the depths. Sweetie Belle poked her head over the edge.

"What's wrong, Scoots?" she called out.

"There's....something....down here..!" came the reply.

Apple Bloom spat out the rope and joined her friend at the edge. "Like, the bad kind of somethin', or the good kind?"

"I think... it's the good kind..!"

"What is it?"

"It's... some kind of... statue..! Of... a pony!"

Apple Bloom looked at Sweetie Belle. "We should git that outta there as well. We might jus' get our cutie marks from bringin' it back for everypony ta see!"

Sweetie Belle nodded in a agreement. She yelled over the edge. "Scoots! We're going to get you out of there! Give us a minute!"

Apple Bloom uncoiled the rope. With a casual flick born from years of practice at the farm, she spun it into a lasso. Sweetie Belle took the loop, making sure her friend was holding on to the other end, and tossed the line of rope over the edge. They soon felt a tug. Taking that for Scootaloo's all-clear, the two fillies heaved on the rope. They heaved and strained for a good minute before they realized that they couldn't budge the rope. They were just about to let go when an orange hoof appeared over the edge. Panting, the two fillies raced over to help their friend up.

"Scoots, how did ya git up here? We couldn't move the rope."

"I looped the rope around the statue, and climbed up myself once it was taunt! Now come on! We gotta get that statue out of there to bring back home."

The now full strength Crusaders brought to bear all the power they could muster, but they only managed to move the rope a few feet before they collapsed. Not even together did they have enough strength to lift up the mysterious statue from the pit. The little ponies collapsed onto the grass, exhausted. How were they going to get it out? The question was answered when they saw a familiar zebra step into the clearing.

"ZECORA!" the Crusaders shouted. They ran up to the exotic pony to greet her. She was a zebra with a striped, mohawk mane and golden ring she wore around her neck and front-left foreleg. Zecora had been feared in Ponyville for a while before the Elements of Harmony had convinced everypony she was nice. Nowadays, she lived in a hut near the edge of the forest, making potions and medicine from the plants of the Everfree for anypony who came by. She had felt the quake more than anypony from town due to her proximity with the epicenter. She had been checking out the damage when she'd stumbled upon the infamous trio.

Zecora wasn't entirely surprised to find the Cutie Mark Crusaders at the center of all this destruction. They had a reputation for disaster whenever and wherever they went "crusading". She gave them a stern look. "Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, and Apple Bloom. Why are you here at a place so recently touched by doom?"

Oh, and she always speaks in rhyme.

The Crusaders filled her in on everything that had happened in the last two days.

"...and now we have something to bring back, but it's stuck in that hole!" finished Sweetie Belle.

Zecora nodded. "If I help pull that statue out, will you go home without a pout?"

The Crusaders made a Pinkie Promise as one. "Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye!" That was more or less a life sentence around Ponyville. You followed a Pinkie Promise or bad things happened.

Zecora took the rope and brought it around one of the still standing trees. She then tied the end around Scootaloo.

"Zecora, why am I attached to the rope?" asked Scootaloo.

"Use power of your wings, and over gravity you'll be king." She pointed a hoof toward the way the Crusaders had entered the clearing. "Fly that way when we say, you'll soon ensure we have the day."

Scootaloo revved her wings, emitting that characteristic engine noise. She nodded eagerly, ready to go. Zecora trotted over to the rope and took hold with her teeth. The other Crusaders joined her.

Sweetie Belle called out the countdown through the rope in her mouth.

"Fwone... Fwo... Fwee!"

On "fwee", the three ponies and one zebra heaved at the rope. Scootaloo wings were moving so fast that the wind they produced ruffled the leaves on some of the trees still standing around the clearing. Apple Bloom's hooves sunk deep into the dirt as she flexed her toned muscles; farm work was hard work, and hard work makes you strong. Sweetie Belle strained mightily, letting out a soft growl. Zecora pulled too, sweat soon gathering on her brow. They didn't know how long they kept at it. Inch by inch, the ponies crossed the clearing, occasionally slipping back a little as one of them lost footing. Finally, the object of their efforts crested the edge of the pit and came to rest on the grass. The four fell down, momentarily spent. Scootaloo undid herself from the rope and approached the statue. The other three followed.

The statue was lying on its side. It was a smoky gray in color, but lightly caked in dirt and dust. It was exquisitely detailed. It appeared to be a large stallion wearing a bandanna around its neck. It was in a position that seemed like it was about to run, and a grim look of anguish was on its face. Apple Bloom wiped some dirt from its face.

"Apple Bloom, the statue kinda looks like you." observed Scootaloo.

Zecora ran a hoof over the sculpture. She frowned. "A statue this is not, I fear. Quickly, get your hooves in gear!" She pointed towards Ponyville. "A certain purple unicorn, is the only hope for this one to be reborn!"

Sweetie Belle's eyes widened to enormous proportions for the second time that day. "You mean this is like when Twilight got turned to stone by that cockatrice? So this is..." she looked at the statue. "...actually somepony who's frozen?"

Zecora simply nodded. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo looked at the object carefully, half expecting it to spring to life.

Apple Bloom spoke up. "Ah guess we'd better get him to Twilight, then. Cummon, girls! Les' load him into the wagon! We can get our marks for savin' somepony's life!"

"CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS LIFESAVERS, YAY!"

Zecora winced as her ears took a beating. The Crusaders were notoriously loud when they did that.

Night had fallen once again. Ponyville had gradually fallen dark, as it's many residents turned in for the day. The Ponyville Town library, however still had its' lights on inside. One occupant in particular was known for staying up far later than anypony else.

Twilight Sparkle was brushing her mane for bed, using her superb magic to control several brushes at once to finish the job quickly. She had some late night reading to do, and by Celestia she'd have the time to do it. Twilight was purple-eyed lavender unicorn with a straight, raven-blue mane streaked with pink and purple. Her cutie mark was a pink star surrounded by a flurry of smaller sparkles. Twilight was the sixth Element of Harmony: Magic. Her skill in the arcane arts was unparalleled, and many would argue that she was the most powerful unicorn-mage in Equestrian history.

"Ouch! Horseapples!"

The most powerful unicorn-mage in Equestrian history had just snagged her mane. She glared at the offending brush with fire in her eyes. "You... what have you done!? For once, I was going to be on schedule for tonight's reading! I had it all planned out! Modern Physics first, followed by a chapter of Shakespony's A Tail of Two Cities!" Nothing gets in the way of Twilight Sparkle when she wants her books.

The brush maintained its composure. Admirable, considering its victim was able to bend solid steel with a thought.

Twilight charged up her magic, considering various ways that the offending hair-care product could be dealt with. Incineration, maybe. Vaporizing? No, too quick. Compression into a singularity? Hmmmm.... now there was a thought. As she was about to unleash her energy, a knock was heard coming from downstairs. She shot the brush a look that could have frozen fire. "You live... For now."

Twilight vacated her bedroom. She passed by her assisstant, a baby dragon named Spike, sleeping in his basket. As she descended the stairs to her door, she had to carefully manuver around towering stacks of books. Living in the library as the town librarian did have its ups and downs. The ups being she had almost unlimited access to whatever book she wanted. The downs being she and Spike had to put them all away again once they were finished with them. Twilight reached the door.

"Yes? Who's there?" she called.

A familiar voice answered, slightly muffled through the door. "A freind in need of some heat and light, on this cold and dreary night."

Twilight smiled. Only one pony spoke like that. She opened the door to greet her friend from the Everfree. "Hello, Zecora! What are you doing out so la-..." She stopped as she saw the Cutie Mark Crusaders standing beside Zecora. "Oh." This should be interesting.

Sweetie Belle took a step forward. "Sorry, Twilight, but we found a pony that's been turned to stone by a cockatrice. We need you to fix him."

Twilight shuddered. She remembered being turned to stone. It had been so unpleasant, that she'd spent countless hours developing a spell to return anypony frozen back to normal. She'd never had the chance to test it. Until now, it seemed. "Well, where is he?"

Zecora pulled a wagon out from around the building. On it was the stone pony. Twilight levitated the statue with her magic and brought it through the doorway. It barely managed to fit through the small entrance. She motioned for Zecora and the Crusaders to come inside. They entered, and Sweetie Belle closed the door behind them.

"Now, care to explain where you found him?"

Scootaloo piped up. "The Everfree Forest!"

Twilight whipped around, concentration suddenly gone. The statue made the library shake when it landed. "You girls went in there again? Don't you remember what happened last time? Fluttershy's chicken coop still has scorch marks!"

The Crusaders grimaced. Fluttershy had given them a Stare that left each with nightmares... for a month.

Zecora interrupted Twilight's rant. "Twilight, you have much to do, to make this pony's heart beat anew!"

Twilight lowered her head bashfully. "Ehehehe... Sorry. I'm a little testy right now."

She turned to the statue so she could examine it closely. Her horn lit up and she swept it over the stone staillion's form. She muttered to herself as she worked. "There is an absolutely enormous amount of magic coming from this guy. Funny, he's an earth pony. Wait... What is THIS?" She stopped her horn over the statue's chest, directly over the bandanna it wore. "This... It's the same magical aura that Princess Luna has. How could you have it, eh?" She talked to it as she paced around. "I think we need to get you out of there right now." She looked over at Zecora and the Crusaders. "Stand back, please. I've never done this before, so I don't know what will happen." Her horn began to glow once again as she powered up. A violet aura enveloped the statue for a few moments, before condensing on its surface momentarily and then sinking deeper. Bright, sparking chinks appeared on the figure's skin, each crack appearing with a sound like a glacier breaking up. Twilight gave out a groan of effort. Her horn suddenly shot out a bolt of energy, slamming into the figure and shattering the stone completely. A dark teal shape flew out of the fractured encasement and hit the wall with a bang before slumping to the ground. Twilight cut off her magic, breathing heavily. She approached the stallion lying on the floor. The side of the dark teal pony rose and fell, but faintly.

"Is he alright, Twilight?" asked Apple Bloom.

"I think so. He's either asleep, or hitting the wall knocked him out. We'll put him on the couch for tonight. Help me move him. This guy is almost as big as your brother, Apple Bloom, and I'm spent on magic for a while."

With much struggling, Twilight, with the help of Zecora and the Crusaders, managed to lay the big stallion down on the couch. Twilight turned to the four, and said, "You all can sleep at the library tonight. I've got some spare pillows and blankets upstairs. We'll all sleep down here, in case he wakes up during the night. I'll send the Princess a letter about this in the morning."

Twilight chuckled a bit as she climbed back up the stairs to fetch the extra bed furnishings. Late night studying? Not in this town...

Full Moon

Princess Luna looked up from her desk and sighed. Her night sky was magnificent tonight, though she hardly bothered to admire her creation, choosing instead to shut her eyes and rub her temples with her hooves. It was late, and although she tended to follow a nocturnal sleep schedule, tonight's work had left her feeling particularly drained.

Roughly six months had passed since her release from the moon and subsequent redemption at the hooves of the Elements of Harmony. Only recently had her sister, Princess Celestia, allowed her to resume some of her former duties. While Celestia (or "'Tia", as she was affectionately called by her sister) had always preferred being a visible leader, attending banquets, forging treaties, kissing foals, that sort of thing, Luna was always more comfortable with flexing her power from the shadows. Her brilliant mind had recently overhauled the decrepit tax system, drafted out plans for an irrigation system the size of Manehattan, and her most recent project: a categorization of the entire Canterlot library. Celestia had welcomed the change of duties; one thousand years of doing a job meant for two tended to exasperate even the best of ponies. Luna's backstage doings worked to her advantage, too. With the new upgrades to Equestrian legislature and infrastructure, Celestia could focus more on attending to her subjects, promoting the goodwill of the Royal Sisters and ushering in a general feeling of contentment that hadn't been seen in Equestria for hundreds of years.

Princess Luna lightly massaged her head, near the base of her horn. For the past few hours, she'd found herself unable to concentrate. There was a strange sort of something in the air she just couldn't seem to identify. There'd been reports of a tremor near Ponyville, and then she'd detected a spike in magical energy mere moments later. Oddly enough, the source of the power surge had seemed familiar, almost like a long lost friend had her name.

Luna brushed her ever-flowing mane from her face absentmindedly. She'd resolved to leave the matter up to Celestia. After all, her sister had taken a peculiar fondness for that town after sending her prized student, Twilight Sparkle, there to live with the other Elements. Luna looked back down at her desk with distaste.

"Curse this paperwork. It drives me to drink," she thought. She decided to go flying.

After magestically sailing out of her bedroom window, the midnight-blue alicorn unfolded her vast wings to catch the cool night air. Ascending over Canterlot Castle in long, lazy circles, she came to rest on top of the mountain the city had been built on the side of. She liked it here. The mountain's height gave her a commanding view of the land for many leagues. The stars always seemed nicer up here, away from the brightly lit capital of Equestria. Silhouetted against the moon, the Goddess of Night surveyed her jointly-ruled territory. She had been gazing down at the world for a while when she sensed the strange magical tick of energy for the second time that day. She whipped her head towards the direction of the disturbance. From this height, she could just make out the distant lights of the source of the arcane commotion. Ponyville.

Now would be a good time to mention that Alicorns see differently than other ponies. On top of their normal sight, they can use their eyes to actually see magical auras and energies. Magic manifested itself to them in a way one would observe a ripple on a still pond. The difference being for an Alicorn, the pond was space and time.

And there was a VERY big ripple coming from Ponyville.

"I sense a disturbance in the force..." Princess Luna muttered to herself.

Twilight was jerked from sleep by a large crash coming from upstairs. She looked around the room. All the ponies were still sleeping. The Cutie Mark Crusaders were sleeping in a pile of tangled pillows and sheets. The sight was so adorable Twilight had to look away almost immediately or risk burning her retinas. Zecora had fallen asleep in a meditative pose, leaning against one of the bookshelves. The recently thawed stallion was still sprawled on the couch where he'd been dumped, snoring quietly. Where had the noise come from?

"Uh... Twi? The Princess just broke our balcony. She wants to see you." came Spike's hushed voice from upstairs. The Princess? What would she be doing here? Twilight hadn't sent her the letter yet regarding her mysterious guest snoozing on her sofa. Once again maneuvering the treacherous staircase, Twilight entered her bedroom. Spike was standing over by the doorway to the balcony, holding it open. A dark shape had landed heavily on the outside ledge, splintering it slightly. The figure straightened up, and in the moonlight Twilight could make out faint twinkles that shone like stars in Princess Luna's ever-flowing mane. Wait... Princess Luna? Twilight had been expecting Luna's sister and her personal mentor, Princess Celestia.

The Princess spoke up in her Royal Canterlot dialect. "Our apologies, Twilight Sparkle, we are... still a little rusty on our flying skills. Your balcony has proven itself to be quite sturdy, however."

Twilight's face met her hoof with a thick smack. That reaction was becoming almost habitual nowadays. "Err... it's quite alright, Princess. What brings you here tonight?"

"We were observing our lands when we detected a large surge of magical energies from this area. We identified two sources; one being yourself, which is a normal occurrence given your adept skills with the arcane, but the other is unidentified, and even stronger. And..." she pursed her lips momentarily in concentration. "We can still sense it nearby, although quite faintly."

Twilight thought for a moment. "Well, the only magic I've used tonight was a De-stonification Spell, so that must have been what you noticed from me. As to the other source, I may know of what you speak of."

Princess Luna's left eyebrow shot up. "Please, do tell, Twilight Sparkle. A source of magic on this scale could be a major threat to Equestria."

Twilight chuckled a bit. "The 'major threat to Equestria' is passed out on my couch in the library, actually. Sleeping like a foal."

Luna raised her eyebrow even further, imploring Twilight to continue.

"Some fillies from town found a pony frozen by a cockatrice in the Everfree after today's tremor. They brought him back here for me to thaw out. There was something strange about him, however. He seemed to have the same aura as you, Princess."

The Goddess of the Night's eyebrow ascended to stratospheric heights.

"It faded soon after I released him, and he's been unconscious ever since." Twilight carefully left out the part about knocking the poor stallion into her bookshelf at half the speed of sound.

Luna paced around the damaged ledge for a few moments, musing. Twilight wondered who the mysterious guest on her sofa was, for to possess more power than her was strange enough alone, but to be an Earth Pony? They didn't even have any accessible magic. On top of that, his aura was the same as a Goddess.

"Could you... describe to us what this stallion looked like, Twilight Sparkle?" questioned Luna.

"He's very big, almost so much so as Applejack's brother, Big Macintosh." Everypony knew of the massive workhorse down at Sweet Apple Acres. "He's got a dark greenish-bluish coat, brown mane, and his cutie mark is an apple with a horseshoe over it."

Luna stood stock still. Even her mane, the streaming waterfall of a midnight sky, stopped dead. "Was there anything else?" she asked in a small voice.

Twilight was suddenly apprehensive. What was going on here? "Oh... Um, I don't think... Actually, yes."

The Princess' ephemeral mane slowly began to move again.

Twilight continued. "He has a golden bandanna around his neck, and there are four metal bands, really heavy ones, he wears around his hind legs, two on each leg."

At this, Princess Luna's face shifted to surprise, but only for a split second. It quickly settled into an emotion Twilight couldn't identify. "Twilight Sparkle, we will arrange for the other Elements of Harmony to assemble here in the morning. We also would like your permission to spend the night."

The Princess spending a night here? In her library? It wasn't like Twilight could refuse royalty, but she had to wonder why Luna seemed so interested in the recently thawed stallion. "Of course, Princess. I'll get something for you to sleep on. But how are you going to get my friends in the morning if you're sleeping here?"

"We rule over the night, Twilight Sparkle. Ponies dream at night." Luna allotted a small smile at this underestimation of her power.

"Ah. Right. You can influence dreams. Forgot about that." Twilight made a mental note to go over the Royal Sisters' many godlike abilities. There were so many.

She set about getting some more pillows and blankets from the closet. "My, the library has suddenly become quite the place to bed for the night." Twilight thought to herself.

Celestia's sun shone brightly through the overcast skies. Roughly around nine in the morning, the five other Elements of Harmony all found themselves at the Ponyville library doorstep.

"Why are we here again?" grunted Rainbow Dash, rubbing the sleep from her magenta eyes. Normally in bed till mid-afternoon, the cyan, rainbow-maned Pegasus was having a hard time staying awake.

"I'm not sure, darling. I woke up with the strangest sensation in my hooves, telling me to come to the library. Can't imagine why, though, not much else in there besides dusty old tomes," sniffed Rarity, who was feeling slightly peeved at having her beauty sleep interrupted. "Maybe it's about Sweetie Belle. She left a note at the Carousel yesterday morning before vanishing with her friends. They never came home," she added with a twinge of worry.

"Well that explains where mah sister got off ta," put in Applejack in her usual drawl, adjusting her trademark Stetson to shield her emerald eyes from the morning glare. Her braided golden tail whipped half-heartedly at a fly that had landed on her flank. The orange mare had been up late worrying about her sister, and the paltry few hours of rest she'd finally gotten had not been enough for the hardworking farmpony.

Fluttershy looked out from behind her long, pink mane. "Should we... should we knock? I mean, Twilight's usually up by this time," she murmured softly. Her pale yellow wings ruffled slightly in the gentle breeze. She readjusted them and retreated behind her mane-veil, looking at the ground.

Pinkie Pie was the only one of the group who was showing any excess of energy. But then again, this is Pinkie Pie. Nothing short of a sugar coma would slow this mare down. "I dunno, you guys, but I'm feeling really, really good about today! I woke up and I was all like 'WOW! I LOVE EVERYTHING!', and then I came here and I found you guys here too so that just made everything even better!" She was interrupted by a cyan hoof in her mouth.

"Chill, Pinks, you're going to give me a headache." grumbled Rainbow Dash, removing her hoof from the noise machine that was Pinkie Pie.

A sudden flash behind them caused the five to turn around. Twilight had teleported to them from inside the library, and she'd brought some company. Behind the Ponyville's resident librarian, the Cutie Mark Crusaders stood side by side with Zecora, Spike, and Princess Luna.

Nopony spoke for a full minute. Applejack looked at Princess Luna, then shifted her gaze to the Crusaders. "Tarnation, girls, what didja do now? Ya'll even got the princess involved!"

Rainbow could be heard chuckling softly. "Thats a new record. Good job, you three."

Sweetie Belle hurled herself at Rarity, and the two hugged. Apple Bloom approached Applejack, who glared at her for a few seconds before giving in to the adorable ball of cuteness that is her sister. "Ah can't stay mad at ya. Ah'm jus' glad yer safe now." Scootaloo tackled a sleepy Rainbow Dash in a flying leap. Rainbow was not related to her, but the two were quite close.

Twilight gave the ponies a few moments before speaking up. "Now that we're all gathered, I believe that the Crusaders have a story to tell." The three fillies detached themselves and gathered together in between the two groups. They then recounted the events of the day before, with Zecora adding a verse or two here and there. Princes Luna then explained her presence to the five, ending with her arrival on Twilight's now structurally unsafe balcony.

After all had been told, the Elements of Harmony knew the situation at hoof inwards and outwards. There had been an earthquake yesterday, in which a petrified pony had been uncovered by the shifting earth. The Crusaders had managed, with Zecora's help, to bring the stone stallion to Twilight. Twilight had been able to thaw him out, subsequently releasing a large amount of magic that Princess Luna had honed in on. They now had a large, magically potent, unconscious earth pony with a mysterious connection to a goddess asleep on the couch inside. Just another normal day in Ponyville.

A crash sounded from inside the house, cutting off the wrap up. The group exchanged a look. Their guest was awake. A few more bangs and thumps sounded from the library. Twilight, followed by the others, approached the door cautiously, horn aglow in case the stallion tried anything funny. The library door opened slowly with a creak. A large pile of books had fallen from the shelves, and the couch was overturned. There was no-pony on it. "Where did he go?" said Twilight.

"G'day!" a gruff, strangely accented voice called from above.

The group looked up as one. There, heroically posed upon the chandelier, was the dark teal stallion. He looked down at them seriously, which was quite a feat considering the predicament he was in.

"Any 'o ya lovely sheilas mind tellin' me where the bathroom is? I've a piss in the tank that'll raise the oceans."

Coming of Age

The Cutie Mark Crusaders, the Elements of Harmony, one zebra mystic, one baby dragon, and the Goddess of the Night milled around the inside of Ponyville's library. The stallion, once a hoof had been pointed towards the toilet, had neatly dismounted from the chandelier with a double backflip spin that even Rainbow Dash had been impressed by, trotted off to the bathroom, and promptly proceeded to open the floodgates on one thousand years worth of bladder buildup.

"Oooooooooooooooohhhhhh yeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaah..." came the relieved moan from behind the closed door.

Everypony blushed and tried to pretend they hadn't heard that, besides Spike, who, being the only male in the group, was cracking up hysterically.

"Err... So, Princess," Twilight tried to lessen the awkward atmosphere. "Last night you gave me the impression that you've met this pony before."

Princess Luna nodded, eyes misting up with faraway memories. "The pony you just saw is called by the full name of Sir Buck Apple. But he prefers to be called 'Buckshot'. He and I have a bit of a... history."

Several eyebrows raised in a mix of disbelief, humor, and shock.

The Princess immediately understood what the others were thinking. "Oh, no! Not like that. We would never consort with a married pony in such a manner."

Rarity, who's ears had perked up at the mention of this pony's prestigious title of a knight, now looked downcast. "He's married, is he then?"

Luna's demeanor turned downcast. "Not anymore," she simply said.

"What do you mean by that?" Twilight spoke up.

"Sir Apple has been away for a long, long time."

Applejack's eyes narrowed. "How long wuz that, Princess?"

Luna turned away from the others and stared out the window at Ponyville. A light drizzle had begun to fall outside. "He vanished roughly two months before we fell to the corruption of Nightmare Moon. We had no idea where he'd gone, and a great search was called up. We regret not searching harder, for his presence during these times may have spared us a millenia of imprisonment."

Silence fell the thick across the room. The muffled sound of a toilet flushing could be heard.

"That was over a thousand years ago," Luna murmured softly. "Almost everypony he knew has long since passed on by now. Including his wife and daughter."

"Uhm, excuse me," Fluttershy broke in gently. "Is there any way that we could, you know, send him back?"

Luna turned from the window to look at Fluttershy. "No." It was barely a whisper.

A new voice sounded, gravelly and oddly accented. "Righto, g'day everypony. Apologies for the odd first impressions and all that, but when a bloke has to go, he has to go."

The group turned to the source of the voice to see Sir Buck Apple stepping into the library, visibly more relaxed than before. The ancient knight trained his gaze over the room, taking in his surroundings with a trained gaze. His ocean eyes finally settled on the Princess. "Allo, Luna! Fancy meeting you here! We gonna have that discussion about the you-know-what now?"

The Princess shook her head slowly. "No, Sir Apple, we have something much more grave to discuss with you than before," She turned to the group assembled in the library. "Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, and Apple Bloom, please stay here with us. Everypony else, we must ask that you leave for a time. We shall send for you once we are done here." The zebra, baby dragon, and other ponies filed out of the library in a colorful yet somber line.

"Huh, they all look like they caught the business end of the frowning-fever," Buckshot said wryly.

Luna went into the kitchen, followed by the others. "Twilight, is it possible to have some tea prepared for everypony?"

Twilight nodded and set about the task of heating up the teakettle.

Applejack spoke up. "Uh, Princess, Ah wuz-"

"Call us Luna, please, fair Applejack."

"Sorry, uh, Luna, but ya see, Ah wuz wonderin' why ya asked me an' mah sister to be here fer this."

Buck's eye's widened, noticing the two Apple sisters for the first time. "Oi, you sound like somepony I know. I like the hat, by the way," he said, staring at Applejack. His gaze shifted to Apple Bloom. "And you look like somepony I know, too. Come to think of it, botha' you sheilas seem a mite familiar. What did ya say yer names were?"

"Jackie Apple, but Ah'd prefer it if ya called me Applejack."

"Mah name's Apple Bloom, sir. Pleased ta meet ya!"

"You're both Apples?"

"Eeyup!" came the simultaneous reply.

The knight looked at the pair quizzically. "How is that? Last time I checked, the only three living members of the Apple family were me, my lovely wife, Leafdapple, and my daughter, Apple Blossom."

Princess Luna interrupted the conversation. "Sir Apple, do you happen to remember what occurred to you right before you woke up here?"

Buckshot thought for a moment, before shaking his great head. "Not entirely, Luna. I was in the Everfree, lookin' for somethin'. I can't remember what it was though, for the life of me. Then... everythin' gets blurry. I think I was runnin' somewhere, and then poof! 'Ere I am wakin' up in a library, of all places, havin' ta piss like the dickens. Where is this library, anyway? The Palace? Canterlot?"

Apple Bloom answered his question. "Yer in the Ponyville town library, Mr. Apple!"

The dark teal stallion snorted in amusement. "Mister Apple was my father. I'm not that old yet, so you can call me Buckshot, iffin' you'd like. As for bein' in Ponyville, that ain't possible."

Twilight sat down at the table, placing several mugs of herbal tea that had been sweetened with honey in front of the various ponies sitting there. "Why is that, Sir Buck?"

"Because I've been diggin' the foundations for the town library for the past few weeks with some mates from the village. We haven't even begun building it yet. So I know this can't be Ponyville when you say we're in a library."

Twilight winced slightly, remembering the size of the time difference that was present here. But she also couldn't help but be a little awestruck. The stallion sitting at her table had dug the foundations to her home over a thousand years prior. She'd no idea the library was that old.

The Princess spoke up again. "Sir Apple, do you know what a cockatrice is?"

"Aye. Nasty buggers they are. Look 'em in the eye, and they turn ya to stone. Then they drag ya off to their hollow to use like some kinda trophy for attractin' mates, or something like that. 'Orrible way to go out, if ya ask me," Buckshot scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Why do ya ask, Luna?"

Luna gazed down at the table as if it had challenged her to a stare-off. She decided to be blunt about it; Buck would appreciate that eventually. "You were frozen by one," No response came from the dark teal knight, so she continued. "This filly here," she motioned to Apple Bloom with her hoof, who smiled at bit at being recognized by a princess. "And two of her friends, retrieved you from the cockatrice's den in the Everfree Forest, which has been recently exposed by an earthquake. They brought you here with the help of the zebra who was present earlier. Twilight here," she gestured to the lavender unicorn. "Performed Equestria's very first revival from petrification on you." She ran out of words at this point, electing instead to fix Buckshot with her midnight-blue eyes.

Buckshot's face held a spot-on impersonation of a member of the Royal Guard, revealing no emotion whatsoever. He did not say a word. Slowly, he got up from the table and went into the main library area. Exchanging a look, the others rose to follow. They found him looking out the same window Luna had been earlier. The knight said nothing, only continued to look out on to Ponyville.

Applejack started forward. "Look, uh, Buckshot-"

Buckshot silenced her with a raised hoof. He didn't even bother to glace in the her direction; his eyes were fixed on the outside world.

"If it were anypony else sayin' that, Luna, I'd have called 'em loony. But I know you'd never fool around on something like this, so I have no choice but to believe you."

Nopony moved, or spoke for a good five minutes.

In a calm, yet tired, voice, he finally offered a few words. "So that's Ponyville." It was more of a statement than a question.

Princess Luna joined him by the window. "It is."

"And this is the town library."

"Yes."

Silence.

"So then I'm guessing I've been away for quite a spell, then."

"Yes. One thousand years, to be exact."

Silence.

"So that means..."

"Yes. They are."

Silence.

"Did they go out happy, at least?"

"We know not. Our sister was present at the time, but we were not."

"You'll have to tell me about that sometime."

"We will."

Silence.

"I had grandfoals, didn't I."

"You did."

Silence.

"And they had grandfoals."

"Yes."

"And so on?"

"And so on."

Silence.

"So those two behind us are..."

"They are."

"So that means..."

"The farm is still there. They never left it."

Buckshot turned toward the two Apple sisters. They held his gaze evenly, a mixture of curiosity, respect, and pity visible in their eyes. He spoke to them gently. "I helped build this town. I raised the first wall, set the first brick, reaped the first harvest, and danced in the first storm with my family," he paused. A tear collected in his left eye as he remembered. He brushed it away quickly. "But those days ended eons ago. Ponyville carried on. My wife and child carried on. You two are the latest in what is now, at least to me, a long line of noble ponies that was created over a thousand years ago. I am proud to call both of ya my family. You kept up a tradition of growin' the land for food, and providin' for others. I know that ya don't know me very well, but I feel like I can ask ya for a favor."

"What do you need, Mister Buck?" asked Apple Bloom softly. Applejack sniffled.

Buckshot gave a small smile that failed to reach his eyes. He stepped up to Apple Bloom, towering over her. His presence conveyed no threat, however. Instead, Buck reached down, picked Apple Bloom up by the scruff of her neck, and set her gently on his back, her giggling slightly all the while. He then turned to Applejack and swallowed her in an emotional hug, which she returned. He released her and backed a few steps.

"You can call me 'Uncle' Buck, if ya like. I need you ta take me home. I'd like to be with my family again."

An Overdue Homecoming

A steady drizzle was falling over Ponyville. If one looked carefully, and from a distance, it would appear that a faint mist had covered the town, blurring straight lines of architecture and softening the sharp corners. The thatched-roof buildings took the rain in with a muffled, stacatto rapport that faded into the background. The cobblestones produced a static-like hiss as the soft sheets poured down from above. Streams of clear rainwater collected at the sides of streets and in various depressions, funneling through grated sewer entrance ways.

At the Ponyville town library, Twilight sat watching the fat drops of water plummet from the leafless, overhanging boughs of the tree-building from the kitchen window. Princess Luna joined her at the table a while ago. Neither pony spoke; both had too much to think about. The mugs of tea in front of their hooves had long since grown cold. They sat alone in the kitchen, as Applejack and her sister, Apple Bloom, had departed with their recently thawed forebear from a thousand years ago to Sweet Apple Acres to show him what his former abode had become.

In the library, the other Elements of Harmony and the remaining Cutie Mark Crusaders were keeping busy, making small talk, playing games, or browsing Twilight's extensive collection of knowledge. Princess Luna had summoned them once the Apples had left. They had then been filled in on what had happened after they had exited the library earlier to give the Twilight, Luna, and the Apples some space. At this point, all were simply staying indoors, reluctant to venture out into the rain or depart from where their friends were.

The downpour had caught the Apples halfway to Sweet Apple Acres. Electing instead to continue on rather than seek shelter, the three plodded gamely on down the path to home through the rain. Apple Bloom walked beneath her new uncle's massive frame, taking advantage of the moving dry spot the stallion created. The dark teal knight had acknowledged her presence by widening his legs slightly and slowing his long stride, accommodating the small filly seeking shelter from the weather like a tiny plane might be housed in a hangar used to store passenger jets. Applejack was walking on the right, her hat tilted down to prevent any rain from getting in her eyes.

Buck's mane was plastered to his skin, but that didn't bother him. The rain felt soothing. It was like somepony had rubbed him with mint leaves and sprinkled a mist over his coat. He felt strangley aware of himself, feeling each individual drop as it impacted against his large body. Buckshot had always loved the rain. He loved any kind of weather where other ponies opted to stay inside. He remembered how he had spent days like that with his long-dead family. The Apples of ancient times had lounged on the porch of the ranch home when the weather prevented them from working, watching the world go by. Actually, Buckshot had never stayed on the porch, he preferred sitting out from under the roof, letting the snow, rain, or wind, buffet him like a welcome breeze in the middle of summer. His wife had never understood why he did that, and often scolded him fiercely when he came back inside. But she always had a hot bowl of soup and a towel to accompany the verbal lashing. Buck had loved that the most about his wife. She knew he'd come back inside because he'd missed her company, not because he couldn't take the weather.

But now she's gone. For one thousand bloody years she's been six feet under.

Apple Blossom had joined him out in the weather sometimes. He could remember the feeling of her sitting next to him, her small body a prick of heat pressing up against his side.

Blossie always knew what I needed. Sometimes before I needed it.

But they're both gone now.

He looked at Applejack, striding along next to him, focused on the path ahead. She had the same stubborn glint in her eyes as Leafdapple. Buckshot could tell that trying to win an argument with this mare could only result in failure. He stopped looking at his orange coated descendant to glance down at Apple Bloom, walking underneath him. Apple Bloom noticed him looking at her and smiled.

Crikey. She smiles like Blossie. The apple never falls far from the tree, eh?

Buckshot chuckled quietly at his joke, returning the smile warmly before looking back up at the road passing by. His hooves made thick, muffled thuds on the wet dirt path. The trio had made it out of Ponyville by this time. Buckshot could remember the way to the farm, the route hadn't changed very much in in the milennia he'd been gone.

Right, should be right around this hill. I wonder if the house is still there, or if it's been replaced by-

Buckshot's thoughts were interrupted as he came within view of Sweet Apple Acres. He stopped dead in his tracks. Apple Bloom carried on a few steps further before realizing that her cover had vanished. She emitted a cute little squeak of surprise as the rain claimed another victim before scurrying back underneath the oldest Apple.

Before him sprawled several acres of farmland, slightly hazy due to the drizzle. Apple trees beyond number stood tall in neat rows that stretched off into the distance. It was winter, so Buckshot could see the leafless knobbly branches stretching up in salute to the sky. Never having seen this amount of growth before, he was speechless. The orchard he'd established back in his time had contained only fifty trees. This orchard easily contained thousands.

Applejack noticed his astonishment with a proud grin. "We like t' plant a few more every year. Been at it fer a while, as ya can see."

Buck nodded, and with his vast intelligence and education, replied in the most dignified manner he could muster. "That's a lot of trees."

Apple Bloom could be hear slamming her hoof to her face from underneath her uncle.

The trio walked through the orchard, Applejack filling Buckshot in on some recent family history. The droplets of water raining down on them were thick and fat, due to the overhanging tree branches providing many places for droplets to collect. They eventually emerged from the rows to be greeted with the current Apple family ranch house.

It was a lot bigger than Buck's house. The home was three stories tall, and painted a rough burgundy color that Buck assumed had originally been red. A puff of smoke was coming out of it's ramshackle chimney. It had a large wraparound porch in the front. Buck particularly liked the new porch. It put his old one to shame. A cavernous red barn stood off to the side of the house, and a tall silo could be seen poking out from behind it.

"Good onya, I like what you've done with the place," complimented Buckshot.

"Thanks, we here at the Acres put a lotta hard work into what yer seein' now," Applejack pulled ahead towards the house. "C'mon, ya'll need t' be introduced to the rest of yer kin."

"More? Crikey, I thought it was just you two lovely sheilas."

Applejack laughed. "There's many, many more. We'll show ya at th' family reunion in a few months. But as fer those of here at Sweet Apple Acres... Trust me when Ah say this, there's no way in hay we could run this here place without the ponies yer about t' meet."

Curiosity aroused, Buck followed her close behind, Apple Bloom keeping pace beneath. When they reached the porch, she moved off to Buck's right, behind Applejack.

Applejack reached the front door and held it open. "Welcome home, Uncle Buck!"

With a deep breath, the oldest Apple stepped through the threshold of his family's abode for the first time in a millennium. He was greeted by the sight of a large eating room, faded wood paneling the floor. The walls were of an indiscriminate cream coloration, but it seemed faintly green to him. Sitting smack dab in the center of the room was a large slab of a tree trunk, nicked and scored by generations of Apples eating on it. Buck walked up to the slab and rubbed his hoof on it tenderly. He bent his great head down and took a whiff of the scarred wood.

Pine. Well, at least the bloody table's still here.

He turned to Applejack and Apple Bloom, and pointed at the slab. "I made that," he said proudly. Apple Bloom gazed at the table with a new found reverence. She'd no idea it was that old.

Applejack grinned. "There's a lotta good memories mah family and Ah have had at that there table. Speakin' of them, lemme fetch 'em." She headed out of the room, and the sound of hooves on stairs could be heard as she climbed upwards to fetch the rest of her kin to meet their newest (and oldest) member. Apple Bloom bounced out after her sister.

Buck suddenly had doubts. What if they didn't believe Applejack? What if they didn't like him? He began to pace, looking down at the floor.

If somethin' like this had happened to me, I don't think I would've believed it. I'd probably 'ave sent that poor sot who claimed it to the loony bin, wrapped in a happyjacket.

Buck continued to look down, increasing the speed of his pacing.

There's so much I've missed out on. How could they accept me with that in mind?

His train of thought was interrupted when he crashed into a certain red workhorse. Both stallions sat down hard. Buck looked at him hard, and was astounded. The red pony looked almost exactly like him. They both stared at each other in shocked silence. The red reflection eventually stood up and offered him a hoof. Buck accepted, and stood up face to face with him. They were almost the same height, although the scarlet mountain had a few inches on him, Buck was slightly more toned.

The dark teal knight broke the awkward silence. "Er.... G'day. Name's Buckshot Apple." He extended his hoof.

Buck's counterpart shook his hoof forcibly. "Big Macintosh. Yer an Apple?" he asked in a slow, laconic drawl.

Buck was still in shock, so he answered with a weak "...Eeyup."

Big Macintosh's ears laid back in amusement. "Ah c'n tell."

"I'm, uh, a bit of a..." Buck searched for the right word. "... a distant relative."

"Ya look like ya could be mah brother, providin' Ah ever had one."

"I'm a little older than that, mate..."

Big Macintosh's eyebrows rose, but he said nothing. Buckshot liked this one. A stallion of few words.

Applejack returned to the room, followed by her sister. "Granny's still sleeping, so... Oh! Ah see ya met Big Macintosh!" She walked up to the big stallion and threw a hoof around his neck. "This here's mah brother, the proud owner of Sweet Apple Acres! Big Mac, this here's the one and only, Sir Buck Apple!"

Big Macintosh's eyes flew open. "THE Buck Apple? AJ, Ah know yer the element of honesty and everythin', but that's a little hard t' believe. Buck Apple wuz the original owner of this here farm, an' that was hundreds and hundreds of years ago. That'd mean this feller here is over a thou-"

"Don't use yer fancy mathematics t' muddle the issue!" Applejack butted in. "Ah think we need to have a talk about this. Uncle Buck, Apple Bloom, lets take a seat around th' table. Ah think we got a story fer mah brother here."

And so, the Apples sat around the table and recited the events of Buckshot's unfortunate circumstance. It was long into the night by the time they finished, but Big Macintosh was now up to date, and more importantly, just as welcoming to Buck as his sisters had been. He offered Buckshot a room, which Buck gratefully accepted. The Apples, now with their newest member, went upstairs to bed. Buck was shown into the first room on the left. It was a spare bedroom, with aging wallpaper and a lumpy bed, but to the dark teal knight it looked like paradise after the long and eventful day.

The second his head hit the pillow, he was fast asleep, entering the shifting world of dreams...

...Where a certain midnight-blue alicorn was patiently waiting for him.

He was floating, that much was sure. A strange, dark void surrounded him like a black velvet screen. His immediate surrounds were impossible to decipher. Translucent, smokey images of places and things flickered by. Things he had no name for, and places he'd never been. He glanced down, to find that his body had vanished, replaced by a dimly glowing vapor.

Ugh. It's been a while since we've done this, Luna. Gimme a sec ta get me bearings.

A monolithic shape cut through the fog. It reared up before him, dwarfing the little puff of smoke many times over. Black as pitch, with the exception for two humongous eyes that housed the reflection of a full moon, the leviathan's figure emerged into the visage of the Princess of the Night. From her head came her mane, that starry waterfall which shimmered lazily in some unknown breeze.

Greetings, Sir Apple. We have much to discuss with you in the following days to come. The voice shook the very substance of the realm.

Well, you know where ta find me. I'll be waiting for you, yer Highness.

Do not address us in such a way. You have proven yourself to be far above one of our mere subjects. You were our first real friend, sir knight, and your company served to stave off a fate almost worst than death.

I'm not sure what you mean by that. The only thing I can think of that's worse than kickin' the bucket is being taken away from everythin' you ever loved for a thousand years.

You were not the only one who served an involuntary exile.

I think you need to explain yerself, right now.

This recounting will take some time, Sir Apple.

We've got till mornin' Luna. And it's not like I'm goin' to be dissapearin' anytime now, either.

Very well. It all began after your disappearance. Our descent into jealousy began to accelerate...

A Wonderful Hearth's Warming

A mysterious event has occured all across Ponyville. Presents have appeared on the doorsteps of all the residents of the town. Nopony knows where the presents come from. The only clue as to who left them is on a small card attached to each box.

The tags read:

Princess Luna peeled the last bits of wrapping from her present. It was an abacus, a type of ancient calculator that worked by sliding beads on numerous strings suspeneded by a square frame. She hadn't seen one of these since before her banishment. The modern-day calculators confounded her to no end. The Princess let loose a squeal of delight. Holding a reliable mathematical instrument in her hooves sent tingles of joy down her spine.

Princess Celestia gave an evil smile as she hefted her gift over her shoulder. It was a brand new, state of the art, pastry launching bazooka. Otherwise known as the Pie-Flinger 2000, it was a must-have of any serious prankster's arsenal.

A maniacal cackle sounded throughout the castle. April Foal's Day was going to be a massacre next year.

Rainbow Dash stared googly-eyed at the opened package in front of her. There, glinting in the morning sun, lay two powerful wing-mounted rockets. They were painted with a striped rainbow theme, and greatly resembled jet engines. The thrust produced by these babies would propel her to unimaginable speeds with ease. Forget Sonic Rainbooms, from now on, she was going to be breaking the clopping speed of light.

At the Carousel Boutique, Rarity appraised her gift with the practiced eye of an entrepreneur. Somepony had obviously seen fit to give her an industrial strength, diamond edge saw. Perfect for cutting gems into exquisite shapes. Rarity turned on the saw with her magic. It gave out a mechanical shriek as it spun. Rarity allowed herself a small grin. Business was going pick up around here.

Scorch marks dotted the floor of the Ponyville town library. Twilight was slumped in a corner, passed out. She clutched an enormous book in her hooves tightly to her chest even while she was unconscious. She'd fainted in delight after opening up a copy of Equestria's Big Book of Everything. Spike, meanwhile, was immensely enjoying the metals stakes he'd received to spit roast the pile of gems they'd been accompanied by. A bonfire roared in the middle of the room, ignited by dragonfire. Spike rubbed his rounded belly with a sigh of contentment, brushing off crumbs from the various toasted gems he'd put in the blaze.

Applejack twirled her new hat appreciatively. It looked almost exactly the same as her old one, with a few differences. Applejack ran her hoof over it reverently. Made from fine leather, the new brown Stetson gave off an oily sheen that only newness could bring out. Her old hat had been getting rather worn out and patchy, so the replacement couldn't have come at a better time, what with the harsh winter sun glaring down from above. Besides, she knew who needed her old hat more.

The tool belt jangled merrily around Apple Bloom's waist. A new, pink bandanna was wrapped around her head in place of her usual bow. Wrenches, hammers, screwdrivers, and a plethora of other useful building instruments crowded for space on the specially constructed belt. Nails, screws, sockets, nuts and bolts filled the many pockets. Apple Bloom's mind was already filled with the various things she could construct to help the Crusaders receive their marks. A catapult? Go-karts? A dueling arena? The possibilities were endless.

Apple Bloom walked around the ranch home, trying to find the pony she knew had given her the treasured gift.

Fluttershy was busy enjoying the luxurious space of the military grade panic room somepony had set up in her back yard, a great big red ribbon set on the top. The bomb, manticore, and Nightmare Night-proof shelter smelled like fresh concrete. Fluttershy felt tears welling up in her eyes. Here was a place where she'd never have to be scared again.

Angel Bunny was suffering from a carrot overdose, brought on by stuffing his face full from the basket left at the front door with his name on it, and was now tripping balls in the living room. He stood on the table, a closed umbrella in his paw like a sword. The martians were trying to steal his carrots. Not on his watch. CRASH! Another piece of furniture met it's grisly end at the hand of pychopathic rabbit.

Sugarcube Corner was shaking. Or, to be more accurate, vibrating. The Cakes were locked in their room, trembling with fear. In the kitchen, pastries of all sorts littered every available surface. Cupcakes were stacked on the ceiling fan's rotors, while freshly baked pies, cakes and a colorful assortment of frosted truffles covered the table, severely bending its legs. The counter tops were buried beneath a mountain of ingredients, mixing bowls, utensils, and half-finished mixes. A pink blur shot around the room like a pinball of adorable destruction. The object was moving so fast, that it could not be seen clearly.

Earlier, the pink blur had consumed an entire five pound bag of specialty, high grade, imported sugar. The gift had most likely been intended as an ingredient, but it had been consumed straight out of the packaging.

Celestia help us all...

Ditzy Doo and her daughter, Dinky, had stood in the front doorway for a while now, in shock. Dinky waved a hoof over the present left for them. Nope, they weren't dreaming. Ditzy took in a deep breath, and inhaled the scent of freshly baked chocolate chip banana-nut muffins. Best. Hearth's Warming. Ever.

Big Macintosh almost floated over the unplowed ground. The shining new plow trailing behind him cut through the earth like a hot knife through butter. It had been magically enchanted somehow, to never break, to never dull, and to even assist the motion of whomever was using it. A practical gift for a practical pony. Big Macintosh shook his head, still not believing his good fortune. He allowed himself a rare grin to spread over his normally serious features.

"Eeeyup..." Not much else could be said.

Unlike almost every other pony, his family knew who to thank.

Standing on the roof of the Sweet Apple Acres barn, two figures shared a laugh. A large, dark teal earth pony sporting a yellow bandanna around his neck slammed his hoof into that of the second figure in a guesture of affection commonly known as "giving a brohoof". The second figure was an oddity. Lean, hairy legs traveled up to a compact, muscular brown body. The figure's head bobbed with a deep, masculine laughter, the large horns coming from it's head making a soft swooshing noise. The figure rubbed its bright red nose with a hoof.

The dark green earth pony chuckled. "Good onya, Rudy. You've me quite a solid here. I don't know how I'll ever repay ya, mate."

The reindeer shook his head. In a twangy, northern accent, he profused, "Ach, ye know I don' wannae be called that, Buck. Mae name's Rudolph. Say it with mae now, Ay know ya can! Anyway, 'ow did ya ever manage tae get all them presents? Last time I saw ya, ya 'ad this weeeee little wallet, 'an barely any bits innit!"

Buck snorted. "Leavin' all yer cash in a bank fer a thousand years on 3% interest is a great way ta make money, mate. I've got more bits than I know what ta do with. So, will ya be stickin around fer later tonight, mate? It's gonna be wild."

"Ya know Ay cannae ever miss a party thrown by the famous 'master 'o cermonies' 'imself!" He pointed to his glowing red nose with a sly wink. "I'll even put on a show for yer new family, just fer old times sake, eh?"

"Righto. I like yer thinkin'. Give the old deer my regards when ya see him next. Oh, and thank him for lettin' me borrow that list 'o his. I don't know anypony 'roud here, so I couldn't just guess at what they needed."

The reindeer nodded. "He'll hear 'a this, don'cha know. Now, Ay believe we've got a wee bit 'a work tae do, now, yep?"

The earth pony grinned. "Eeyup!"

It was late evening by the time they finished.

The entire village of Ponyville was gathered in the barn at Sweet Apple Acres. A stage had been set up at the far end, curtain still drawn. Various speakers and musical tech had been generously donated for the event by Vinyl Scratch, Ponyville's resident DJ. Nopony knew what was going on. They'd all been brought here through either curiosity, pleading, or veiled bribes of apples. Applejack and Big Macintosh had spent all day going around town spreading the word.

The weird thing was, not even they knew what was going to happen next. They'd been coerced by their Uncle into rounding up the populace for this. Only he and, strangely, the Cutie Mark Crusaders and Princess Luna, as well as an incomprehensible and bed tempered reindeer with a red nose, knew what was going on. And they had spent the whole day in the barn, building this stage.

The curtain rose, the lights dimmed, and everpony in the barn eyed the stage expectantly. A spotlight ignited from above, brightly illuminating the various particles of dust and hay floating though the air. A large, dark teal stallion sporting a yellow bandanna around his neck, weights around his hind legs, and an old, battered Stetson on his head walked into the circle of light. He adjusted the microphone in front of him in a relaxed, swaggering manner.

A gasp was heard from the audience as a particular pink mare realized she'd been beaten in planning a party for the newcomer.

The stallion fixed the audience with a look for a few moments, before slamming one of his hooves onto the stage. The rest of the stage was suddenly illuminated as Apple Bloom, who was working the lights, reacted to the signal. The other two Cutie Mark Crusaders were there, silly grins plastered onto their adorable faces. Scootaloo was sitting at a small drumset, consisting only of a base drum, a snare, and some jingle bells. Sweetie Belle blushed furiously from behind a microphone she held in her hand. A reindeer with a faintly glowing nose was standing on a platform at the back of the stage, the light from his nose reflecting off the party shades worn over his eyes. Princess Luna stood off to the stallion's left, wielding an abacus like some kind of guitar.

The entire audience was thinking the exact same thought. "What the hay is going on here?"

The stallion fixed the audience with another look. He then calmly turned to the Princess and spoke in a gruff, accented voice.

"Play that funky music, Luna."

The crowd erupted into cheers as the Princess of the Night closed her eyes and plucked at the strings of her abacus, sending out the twangy, echoing riff that signaled the start of Paul McCartneigh's "A Wonderful Hearth's Warming." A few lines in, Scootaloo added to the sound with her base drum and jingle bells.

The stallion began to sing.

Luna ripped into her abacus for a double beat as the next chorus came and went. The audience was going crazy.

Luna spiderwebbed a few more notes together, bridging the gap between verses. Sweetie Belle cut in with her fabulous voice for the next few lines.

Luna's abacus thrummed with lower notes. Her head bobbed up and down with Scootaloos' beat. The bandanna wearing stallion launched into the next chorus with gusto. By now, all of the unicorns in the audience had the tips of their horns lit, and the whole mass was swaying to the music.

For the next chorus, the reindeer standing on the platform shot out a spectacular light show from his nose. Red bolts of color swam over the audience as if a scarlet disco ball were being hit with a floodlight. Sweetie Belle threw in her soft treble into the fray with the dark teal pony for the remaining versus.

The singer pulled out a guitar from the case by his hooves and played a riff, standing back to back with Luna he did. One final chorus sent the ponies gathered into a cheering frenzy. As the last notes faded away, there was not one hoof that wasn't pounding the ground in applause. The dark teal stallion looked up to the rafters and gave a wink to Apple Bloom above before turning to his fellow stagemates.

"Crikey, that went well!"

Luna had outdone herself tonight. The dark canvas above was absolutely blazing with pinpricks of light, and the moon hung in the air as a paper-thin crescent. Not a cloud was in the sky, thanks to Ponyville's weather team. Luna smiled as she gazed down at the surrounding countryside from the top of the barn. After her performance, the stage had been swamped with ponies all clamoring to congratulate her, Buck, and the crusaders. Introductions had been made, and by this time Buckshot's name was known to all of Ponyville. Never having been one for crowds, Luna had tolerated the wave of fans for as long as she could before slipping out through the barn door to come up here and get some space.

The view was worth it. A fresh snowfall coupled with the starlight served to turn Sweet Apple Acres into a silvery winter wonderland. Luna could feel the barn vibrate in time with the music coming from below. The DJ from Ponyville had taken over the stage after her performance. The Apple barn's foundations were shaking from the bass and dancing ponies inside. Luna felt a particularly large vibration through her hooves. Thinking something had hit barn, she looked around.

Buckshot was standing a few feet behind her, brushing some snow off of his mane. He'd jumped straight onto the roof from the ground, approximately thirty feet below. Luna smiled to herself. Buck was such a showoff when it came to his legendary leg strength.

He joined her at the edge and sat down beside her. "Had a feelin' you'd be up here."

Luna merely nodded. Sometimes words were unnecessary. A softly glowing aurora started up in the skies above. A streak of blue and green, playfully dancing among the stars. Ponies sometimes said that auroras signaled good times ahead. It was a superstition, but one that Luna liked rather fondly. The aurora was, after all, her creation.

"I don't blame ya. Never liked big parties like that meself. Anyway, I wanted ta thank ya," he exhaled, and great clouds of steam billowed forth from his nostrils. "By tellin' me about the whole Nightmare Moon thing, ya showed me that I'm not alone after all. I'd thought I'd left my family behind, but apparently they're still here," he paused to think for a moment. "... Sort of," he shivered slightly from the cold.

Luna wrapped a wing around his shoulders.

The knight continued, "But I've learned something else, to. I learned that no matter where, or when, ya are, there's always gonna be someone ya can call family," he finished awkwardly. "So thank you fer showin' me that."

Luna responded by giving him a tender squeeze with her wing, leaning her head on his sturdy shoulder. The pair looked at the world around them. So much had been altered in their absences, but some things never change. The apple knight had been her greatest friend in ancient times, and his disappearance had greatly accelerated her transformation into Nightmare Moon. But he was here now, and that was all that mattered to the princess.

Behind the knight and the princess, two faint outlines could be seen in the starlight, had they bothered to look. They were vaguely pony-shaped. One was a slender, red mare with short, spiky hair and blue eyes. The other was a creamy yellow mare with a curling red mane, a faded pink bandanna wrapped around her head. They gazed at the two ponies sitting on the edge of the barn with sad eyes.

A voice could be heard, nothing more than a whisper in the breeze, as the yellow mare turned to the red one.

"He needs this, momma. What happened wasn't his fault."

The red mare looked at her daughter for a moment, before turning back toward the ponies sitting on the edge.

When she spoke, her voice was calm and accepting.

"I know."

And with that, the two specters faded into the night.

Second Chances

Roughly two weeks after the Hearth's Warming party, life at Sweet Apple Acres had drifted back into the backbreaking routine common on most Equestrian farms. The Apples would usually rise with the sun to complete the morning chores, while either Big Macintosh or Applejack stayed indoors to get a hearty breakfast going. By the time the chores were done, there were usually a piping hot stack of cinnamon flapjacks waiting as a well deserved reward. The Apple family's newest addition had already established himself to have the appetite so common with his kin, and sometimes out-ate Big Macintosh himself, a commendable feat. After breakfast, Apple Bloom went off to school, escorted by one of her elders. This usually meant that for a while there was only one pony out in the fields, but Buckshot's recent addition to the roster tended to speed things up. The stallion often worked so hard that Applejack often found herself with nothing to do at this time, something the orange farm-pony hadn't experienced since she was a filly.

Today, Big Macintosh was taking Apple Bloom to school, so she found herself alone on the farm with Buckshot and Granny Smith. Once again, the morning chores had been finished, and Buck was nearly done with the work that needed to be done before lunch. Applejack couldn't help but be amazed by the the stallion's strength and speed. Jobs that had taken her an hour tended to take him less than half that time. She was concerned for him, however. Lately, he'd been pushing himself harder and harder in the fields, plowing, clearing the snow, and hauling carts of goods as if his life depended on it. Applejack resolved to confront him about it. She could tell when something was bothering a pony, and, as usual, her instincts served her right. She found him out behind the barn, strapped to a train of no less than five wagons packed full of apples, his head lowered as he plodded his way to the silo to store the apples for the winter.

She wedged a hoof in front of one of the wheels, halting the motion of the train like a stick being shoved into the spokes of a bicycle. "Uncle Buck, Ah think we need t' have a little talk, ya hear?"

Her uncle looked up from the ground suddenly, as if he'd been caught daydreaming in class. "What's goin' on, Applejack?"

Applejack walked up to him and looked him in the eye, her emerald green gaze boring into his calm face. "Ah'm noticin' that ya'll've been workin' like a madpony. Ya just plowed the back field in record time, and now Ah find ya out here, cartin' five wagons of apples to the silo."

His expression didn't change. "And?"

Applejack chuckled a little. "Big Mac can barely do two at once. You've more than doubled that."

Buck looked at her strangely. "Then... you want me ta slow it down a mite, then?"

"Not exactly. See, Ah've noticed that ya only work like this when somethin's got yer tail."

"So?"

"So, Ah think somethin's botherin' ya, and Ah also think that aren't movin' another hoof 'till Ah know what it is." Her words were final. Applejack's word was law on this farm.

Sadly, Buck followed his own laws. With a small grunt, he got the train moving again and mumbled something, avoiding her eyes with a lowered head. Applejack refused to give up. She placed herself directly in front of him, forcing him to stop once again or risk running over her.

"Look, AJ, I just don't wanna talk about it, savvy?" he said with a sigh.

"No, Ah do not. Spill it, buster."

He said nothing for a while, simply standing there, a pained expression on his face. Applejack thought he looked like he was deciding whether to jump off a bridge, or stick his neck onto the railroad tracks. Finally, a large puff of steam came from his nose. "I don't feel like I belong here." he said slowly.

Applejack had no idea what that meant. "Whaddaya mean by here, exactly?"

Buck gestured in a wide circle. "The farm. Sweet Apple Acres. I don't feel like this is my home."

"Yer actual home was here a long time ago, so I can imagine why ya'd think that."

He snorted. "Not like that. I've got a family here, too, so I don't feel alone. It's different," he searched for the words to accurately convey himself. "...it's like this isn't what I should be doing."

"Like, ya shouldn't be workin' on the farm?"

He winced, as if he'd been hit with a sharp pebble in the eye. "Aye. That's it."

Applejack was suprised by this. Every Apple since, well, him, had always spent their life working the land. Her uncle looked right and left, like he was checking to see if anypony was around, before leaning in close to her. "Can I tell you somethin'? It might be a bit of a shocker, though," he said quietly.

"Uhh... sure?"

"I've never liked farming. Not one bit. It's so bloody tedious, you know? I only really started this place up because it was the only thing I'd known. My father was a farmer, and he taught everything he knew to me. I passed that on, and, well, what do you know, here we are!"

Applejack was almost speechless. "But, yer an Apple! Yer the Apple! How could ya not like what ya do? Ya'll got an apple cutie mark, fer Celestia's sake!"

"That doesn't mean I'm into apples. I got my mark for protecting my family with the strength of my two back hooves." He shook each leg as he mentioned them.

Applejack started pacing. "So... If ya don't wanna be here, why didn't ya just say so?"

Buckshot's face turned downcast, guilt in his eyes. "Look at all I've been able to do around here. Two weeks, and yer almost a month and a half ahead of schedule. I might not like doing this, but I'm far too good at it to just stop helpin' my family."

At this, Applejack's pride flared up. "We wuz gettin' along just fine 'afore ya showed up! Ya never had t' do this much fer us in the first place!" she spat angrily.

Her uncle's ears fell flat against his head. "What else am I supposed to do? I can't just sit around all day while my family works."

Applejack calmed herself down. She had had no idea that this was what was going on inside his head. She decided on a different approach to the dilemma. "Well... what have ya always wanted t' do?"

Buck looked like he was going to say something, then paused. "Nopony's ever really asked me that before. I honestly don't know how ta answer that'un." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Never had a chance ta find out, either. I've been a farmer and a knight, but I can't say I liked either o' those things very well. I don't like fighting. Only do it iffin' its necessary."

Applejack unhooked him from the cart. He didn't try to stop her. She signaled him to follow her, which he did, his long strides easily setting the pace. "Ah think ya should git the chance t' find out, sugarcube. Everypony deserves t' find something that they love t' do. There's probably somethin' fer you t' do in town, if ya'll would check and see." They passed around the front of the house and began walking through the barren orchard in the direction of Ponyville. "Tell ya what," Applejack continued. "Why don't ya stay in town fer a while? Until you find yer callin' and whatnot."

Buckshot shot her a worried glance. "What about the farm?"

She chuckled at this. "Ya'll said it yerself, we're already a month and a half ahead of schedule. Ah think we'll be fine at the Acres fer a while."

He digested this information slowly. Applejack swore she could hear the gears turning in that great big head of his. Here was a chance for him to finally discover his true calling. He could be anything he wanted.

Finally, he spoke up. "Fine. But only for a month. I've got enough bits to buy half the houses in town, finding a place to kip for the night won't be too much of a problem. But if I can't find something in that time, I'll be staying here at the farm," he paused for emphasis. "For good."

Applejack gave him a hug. "Now git goin'." She swatted him affectionately with her tail. Buck laughed and continued onward down the path out of the orchard. Applejack stayed where she was to watch him go, until he was a dark speck cresting the final hill out of the farm in the distance.

She noticed, somewhat bittersweetly, that never once did he look back.

Hell's Kitchen

Ponyville, though a rather small town, was known for having a large amount of activity. Under the noonday sun, vendors hawked their wares, schoolfoals dashed around underfoot, and a rainbow plethora of ponies went about their business. The residents often tended to avoid the hustle and bustle of the central market row, however, preferring to keep to the multitude of small, gardened squares and shadier side streets that branched off of Stirrup Street. The vast multitude of ponies trotting along Stirrup were actually tourists who had fallen in love with Ponyville's quaint charm and the occasional wanderer who found themselves in need of supplies and a pit stop.

As a particularly large dark teal stallion worked his way through the crowd, he couldn't help but feel amazed. He adjusted the old Stetson on his head thoughtfully as he looked around.

This is what it's like nowdays? Crikey, this is almost what the old Royal Palace town used to be.

Buckshot hadn't been into town since the day he'd woken up at the library. Even then, it'd been raining out, so nopony was outside, and he'd taken the back roads, so he'd never actually been into the center of Ponyville until now. All of his free time had been spent at Sweet Apple Acres. Now that he had left to find his own calling, though, he needed a place to start. Might as well look in the town he'd helped build with his own two hooves all those years ago.

I need somewhere to kip for the night.

On the side of the road, he noticed a familiar red giant behind a vending cart stacked high with apples. Grinning, he approached his kin. "G'day, Big Mac! How's the business today?"

Big Macintosh or his sister often took the cart into town on nice days like this to make a haul of extra bits. Usually the ponies that sampled some of Sweet Apple Acres delectable fruit came back for seconds, sometimes even thirds. The small, but smug smile on the stallion's normally laconic features indicated that so far today had been quite profitable. After seeing his uncle approach, he tossed him an apple. "Not too bad," he answered in his usual slow drawl.

Buck caught it and trotted around behind the cart and leaned up against a nearby building, out of the way of the passing crowd. He began munching the apple. "Say, ya happen ta know where I might be able to buy or rent a place to sleep for a few weeks?"

Macintosh nodded, but he clearly had a question on his mind. "Eeyup."

His uncle took another bite of the apple. "I know what your're gonna ask, mate. I'm tryin' ta find me own way in life. Gonna start lookin' around town for a job."

The red giant closed his eyes for a moment in thought. "There's a place over by Sugarcube Corner that's been up fer sale fer a while now. Ah reckon yer bits'll be welcome iffin' that's where ya decide t' go." He adjusted the sprig of hay that constantly seemed to be in his mouth. "But Ah dunno. Pinkie Pie lives next door. That could be a lil' problematic."

Buck had to think for a moment. Pinkie Pie was one of Applejack's friends, also one of the Elements of Harmony that had saved Equestria twice in recent times; once from Nightmare Moon, and again from the malevolent spirit of chaos, Discord.

I've heard some pretty whacko things about that'un. Good thing I like crazy.

Resolving to check this place out first, he got directions from his kin and said farewell. Buck's stride lengthened almost unconsciously as he strode down the road. For some reason, he felt on top of the world. His head bobbed a beat only he could hear as he sauntered along. A large grin was plastered to his face, eyes half closed, as he imagined the possibilities ahead of him.

What could I be? I could resume my duties as Champion, I supose, but the mayor might not like it if I bump her out.

Now there was a thought. A champion could only leave office if they died. Buck hadn't exactly died when he'd vanished one thousand years ago. Technically, he was still in charge of Ponyville.

Nah, I'm sure Celestia has taken that little rule out by now. Besides, what with all the weird stuff that pops up around this place, I'd have to bloody up my hooves more than I'd like... which is not at all. I'll leave it ta AJ and her friends. They seem capable enough. Especially that purple one. What was her name again? Twilight? Nice mare. Clopping powerful magic user.

His thoughts turned into a tailspin as he rounded the final bend on his way. Sugarcube Corner loomed in front of him, a marvel of all things delicious. The building was constructed normally, at least from the roof down. The roof itself was made of what appeared to be giant slabs of gingerbread, covered with frosting and sprinkles. The top of the building was crested with a two-floor tower capped in a roof that caused the structure to look like a humongous cupcake.

All in all, Buck got extremely hungry just looking at the place.

I wonder if that roof is actually made of gingerbread...

Pinkie Pie was thrown from her dangerous perch atop the stool when a large bang shook Sugarcube Corner. She had been trying to reach the jar of cookies that the Cakes kept for snacking. The pink party pony picked herself off the floor. "Wow!" she said to herself. "That was COOL! I wonder what that was, though. I don't think there are supposed to be any earthquakes today..," abruptly, she froze as various parts of her body twitched and spasmed. When the fit had passed, she narrowed her eyes into a dangerous expression.

"Somepony's eating my house!" she growled. Pinkie Pie produced a bright yellow cannon from behind her back. "Only I get to do that!"

Buck was in heaven. After jumping up to the roof with his powerful back legs, he had made a discovery worthy of the history books. Sugarcube Corner was made out of food. And it was GOOD. One small test lick had turned into several small bites... which had turned into several large mouthfulls. The roof now sported a comical assortment of bite marks.

"Uuuggggghhh," he moaned as he took another bite of roof, his mouth full of food. "Thif if fffoooooo goood!"

His culinary pleasure was rudely interrupted as the roof around him sudden exploded into a conflagration of light, noise, and confetti, and he collapsed into the building below. Buck let out a very un-stallion like yelp as he hit the floor with a loud, wet smack. He looked up from where his face had left a reasonably good impression off himself in the tiled floor. He noticed his hat lying nearby, so he rolled over and put it back on his head. His bandanna was slightly singed. Taking in his surroundings, he immediately froze. He was in a kitchen, there were delicious pieces of roof lying everywhere, and a decidedly ticked-off looking Pinkie Pie with straight hair was looking at him threateningly from down the smoking barrel of the the most intimidating yellow cannon Buck had ever seen. He held up a chunk of gingerbread sheepishly. "Want some?"

Pinkie Pie's stare was almost as bad as the cockatrice's.

"Errr... guess not. G'day, Missus Pie. 'Ow are ya on this fine winter day?"

The reply's tone was cold, the words colder still. "I was okie-dokie-lokie, but then somepony decided to have snacktime on my roof. Without asking."

Buck gave out a nervous chuckle. "Well, I hope you catch 'em. Nasty business, those types of ponies. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I hear me laundry callin'..," he attempted to rise, only to be greeted with the muzzle of the cannon being pressed into his face.

"You don't wear clothes."

The stallion who had faced down a manticore, an ursa minor, a tournament of champions, and several extremely nasty diaper changes had never felt more afraid in all his life.

So this is all how it ends? Might as well apologize before I go out - preserve what shred of dignity I have left.

"Look, I'm sorry I was eatin' your roof. It just looked so good from outside, and frankly I happen ta luv gingerbread. I can pay for the damage, too," he pointed up to the large, smoking hole in the roof above them.

Suprisingly, Pinkie Pie lowered the party cannon. "It IS pretty good, isnt it?" she asked brightly.

Buckshot was completely dumbstruck by her sudden change in attitude.

"I mean, sometimes after my shift's over I go up there and eat a few bites. I like the frosted bits!" Pinkie helped the confounded stallion to his hooves. Her hair had returned to its poofy state by this time. She took the piece of roof that Buck had offered her earlier from his hoof and popped it into her mouth. "The Cakes really know how to cook a good roof!"

The ancient knight brushed off some crumbs from his mane, still not believing he had come that close to a confetti filled death and escaped. He glanced up to the masssive hole in the roof. The edges of the gap were blacked to a crisp. Faint traces of smoke leaked out of the particularly burnt patches.

How in Celestia's mane did I survive that? More importantly, where the clop did she get a bloody cannon?

The ring of a bell coming from the store area of the house put that last thought on hold. The pink baker bounced into the store room, followed cautiously by a still shell-shocked Buck. The storefront of Sugarcube Corner was typical in its furnishings; a few tables and seats for ponies eating inside, a throw rug or two to spice things up. However, it was the merchandise that really held the title of centerpiece here. A glass counter housed a plethora of baked delicacies ranging from the simple to the ludicrous. Simple chocolate chip cookies fought side by side with quadruple-layered cakes for the attention of potential buyers. There were colors of frosting under the glass that Buck had no name for, such was the incredible display.

Eyeing a particularly delicious looking set of puffy concoctions was a gray Pegasus mare with blond hair and golden, crossed eyes, and several bubbles adorning her flank for a cutie mark. She looked up at the two as they came in behind the counter from the kitchen. Or, rather, one of her eyes did, while the other did a sudden loop-de-loop. "Hiya, Pinkie!" she said brightly.

Pinkie Pie's enthusiastic response was just as cheerful. "Hi Derpy! What can I get for you? Oh! Silly me, I bet you're going to ask for the usual, right?"

Derpy nodded eagerly, a silly grin now on her face. She turned to the knight beside Pinkie. "Hiya, Buck! Nice job at the Hearth's Warming party!" Her bad eye wobbled around crazily. It was cute, in a kind of silly way.

Pinkie Pie reached into the counter and pulled out several of the strange pastries. She launched them all up into the air, where they seemed to hang momentarily before neatly falling back down into a take-out bag that had mysteriously appeared in her pink hooves. The bag was set on the counter and the gray pegasus picked it up in her mouth, setting a few bits onto the counter at the same time.

Buck was curious as to what the pastries were. He turned to Derpy, who had one eye looking at him, and the other at Pinkie.

"'Scuse me, miss. But I was wonderin' what those are," he pointed a hoof at the bag.

Derpy's jaw dropped straight down. The bag of pastries would have hit the floor, had she not stuck a hoof out to catch it in the nick of time. "Wha-huuuuuhhh?" was all she could say.

"Errr... See, I'm sorta new 'round these parts, and I don't really know much about what's what." Buckshot rubbed the back of his neck with a hoof bashfully.

One of Derpy's golden eyes filled with shock, while the other took a nose dive downwards. Quickly, she opened up the bag and placed one of the pastries on the counter. She lowered her face up against the edge, so only her wonky eyes were exposed. She motioned for Buck to do the same. The stallion complied, if somewhat confused.

They stared at eachother from across the counter, the pastry in between them. Two ocean eyes looked into two golden ones, as rebellious peeper had suddenly stopped its acrobatics. Derpy spoke up in a conspiratorial whisper. "This..," she moved her hooves over the pastry like she was reading a crystal ball. "is a muffin."

"A... 'muffin'?"

She nodded reverently. "Yes. It has many uses."

"What does it do?"

"Everything."

Buck stared at the muffin in awe. "You're pullin' me leg."

"Try it, and you'll see."

Buck cautiously picked it up in his hoof, eyeing it like it would explode. Slowly, ever so slowly, he took a small bite out of the muffin. Immediately, his pupils shrunk to pinpricks.

By Discord's dingleberries...

The innocent pastry was devoured as if it was the last morsel of sustenance left in Equestria.

Derpy's face proceeded to break the barriers on the smug-meter. "You like muffins, don't you, Buckshot." it was undoubtedly more of a statement than a question.

The stallion did not answer her immediately, as he was still riding high on the effects of the muffin. "That was..," he swung his front hooves around in an almost drunken manner. " SO CLOPPIN' GOOD!" he turned to Pinkie Pie, who had been watching the spectacle through a fit of laughter. "Pinkie!"

She managed to reply through a storm of giggles. "Yeah?"

"Your muffins. All of them," he slammed a bulging sack of bits onto the counter. "and so help you Celestia if there aren't enough," he added in a low growl.

Buckshot and Derpy walked side by side away from Sugarcube Corner, each scarfing down as many muffins as they could. Atop the stallion's back was bulging burlap sack of no less than fifty pounds worth of Pinkie Pie's delectable baking. The two were chatting amiably as they walked, although with no real direction in mind. Derpy, the town's mailpony, was on medical leave after suffering from a concussion she'd received when she had collided with Rainbow Dash during another attempt to create a Sonic Rainboom. Needless to say, in the battle between Derpy's head and an athletic Pegasus traveling at almost the speed of sound, the latter turned out to be the victor.

"Fffo," Derpy spoke through a mouth stuffed full of muffin. "you're wookin' fffer a pwace to wive?"

Buck nodded enthusiastically. "Yeff!" Crumbs sprayed out of his mouth.

"Wew... I fffink I know a pwafe." She swallowed her mouthful. "Hit me."

The stallion reached into the bag atop his back and tossed her another muffin. "Weawy?"

Derpy pointed up ahead. "It's just up there, these two nice ponies are offering up a room to board," She popped the pastry into her mouth. "Fey're kinda fwierd, fough."

"Eferypony 'round fere iff a widdle fwierd." Buck immediately replaced the muffin he'd just consumed with two more. "Fut I finda fike fhat."

The sound of chewing made up the rest of their conversation as the two made their way down the road. Derpy stopped in front of a large, three-floored tower. There was a large, metallic and glass dome on top of the building with an enormous telescope poking out through the observation hole. The tower itself was painted a deep dark blue with stars drawn here or there to produce a night-sky effect, and all of the windows on each floor had a little window box stuffed full of strange plants.

"Fiff iff fuh fwace!" mumbled Derpy through the baked goods.

"Fhwat?"

She swallowed another mouthful. "This is the place!" she said brightly.

Buck also swallowed. "Thankee' for showin' me here, miz Derpy." He offered her his hoof.

"Call me Ditzy. It's my real name, after all. Everypony just calls me Derpy because of my eye." she shook it warmly. "Thanks for sharing your muffins with me!"

"Thanks for introducin' me to 'em."

She giggled. "No prob! I'll see you around, okay? Good luck with your new home! Buh-bye!" And with that, she flew off, her erratic flight path drawing chuckles from Buck as he watched her go.

Buckshot faced the tower. It loomed over him, but in the afternoon sun, it provided some welcome shade. He bounded up the front stoop in a single jump and set the bag of muffins down before the door. Anxiously, he adjusted his hat and bandanna. First impressions never had been his forté.

Righto, here goes nothin'.

He lifted the large steel knocker and hit it against the door three times. A shuffling noise came from the house and a muffled yell sounded forth from the second floor. Buck could hear the sound of hooves on stairs as the resident neared the door. A bolt was unlatched. Then another. Then another. And another. Buck lost count of how many safety mechanisms this pony had on the other side of their door. He was beginning to have second thoughts when the door opened.

"Allo. What can I do for you?" a soft, and strangely familiar voice issued forth.

Buckshot took in the sight of the owner of the house. It was a unicorn of average size with a deep orangey-red coat, a short, very dark brown mane, green eyes with unusual gold rims around the pupil, and several rubber bands wrapped around his right front hoof. Buck could't help but shake the feeling that he'd seen this stallion before.

The unicorn gasped, a look of fascination, horror, and complete befuddlement gleaming in his strange eyes once he had had a good look at Buck. The unicorn let out a faint sigh, and promptly collapsed to the ground in the doorway. Buck stepped foward to help the unconscous stallion, but froze when he noticed the unicorn's cutie mark, now in sight with it's owner lying on the ground.

It looked like the paw of a monkey, dark black against the rusty coat of the unicorn. The paw had a wider palm, however, and the five fingers were somewhat thinner. The mark looked like some strange ape-creature had slapped it's owner's flank with a fiery strike.

Recognition suddenly dawned in his head. There was only one pony Buckshot had ever known to have a mark like that. The unicorn's name was Rust.

He, along with Buck, had been one of the three representatives at the Tournament of Champions from Ponyville.

That had been one thousand years ago.

And with that thought, he too, passed into a faint on the front stoop of the tower.

The Immortals

The soft fabric of a blanket was the first thing the ancient knight noticed as he woke up. He could hear the sound of voices coming from somewhere off to his side, but he couldn't make out the words. Groggily, he opened his eyes. He was in a well made bed in a rather spartan room with barren, whitewashed walls. Racking his brain for a reason why he was here, the dark teal stallion remembered with a start.

Rust! Rust is here! But how..?

Shaking his head with confusion, he determined to put that question aside for a time when he didn't feel quite so shell-shocked. There was a window next to the bed so he decided to look outside. Through the portal, Buck could see the streets of Ponyville several stories below him, softly illuminated in the glow of the setting sun. The view only served to confuse him even more, however. The tallest building in Ponyville was the Town Hall, and that was only four stories. The view before him suggested a view of at least ten. Waking up in a strange place was one thing, but waking up in a strange place that shouldn't exist was another matter entirely. Buck needed answers, and he needed them now. He jumped out of bed and opened up the door.

He stepped out into a large, circular room, warmly furnished and brightly lit by the sunset streaming in through many windows. A multitude of bookshelves lined the single curving wall, stuffed full to bursting with old tomes. There were several throw rugs and chairs scattered about, setting the ambiance of the room to that of a cozy library. In the center of the room, a wrought-iron spiral staircase came up through the floor and disappeared into the ceiling above, indicating that there were more floors in either elevation. Buck could still hear the voices, louder now, sounding from downstairs. Determined to get answers, he descended the metal staircase, his hooves announcing his descent with a loud clang on every step.

He emerged into a homely kitchen area, still with one rounded wall circling the room. Two ponies were sitting at a thick oak table off to his side, but a window directly above the table was letting the setting sun shine directly into the room, blinding Buck as to who the table's occupants were.

"Look, I think we need to have a talk, man," came Rust's soft voice. One of the figures at the table rose and approached Buck. As he stood up, he blocked out the light shining into the window, revealing his full dimensions. As ponies go, he was a bit smaller than average, but surprisingly lean, with muscles that spoke of an active lifestyle. He carried himself with the confident gait of one who's seen it all and then some. "Because, quite frankly, we are just as clueless about this whole shitstorm as you." The unfamiliar wordings bounced Buck's head. He had never understood why Rust spoke in that strange slang of his.

"Ya cloppin' right ya do," he growled in response. "And whaddaya mean by we?"

Another familiar voice emerged from the second figure, who proceeded to get up and join Rust at his side. The figure emerged from the sunlight silently, her hooves not once making a noise on the wooden flooring.

She's here, too? Shoulda' known, these two have been inseperable since I met 'em.

The second pony was another unicorn, with a shaggy, pure white coat except for a light brown around her hooves, flank, and a darker brown around her muzzle. Her chocolate colored tail was extremely bushy, and lashed back and forth in obvious agitation. She had a spiky brown mane and pointed, constantly shifting ears of similar coloration. Two icy blue eyes peered at Buck with odd, catlike pupils. Her cutie mark was the black shape of a feline paw-print, claws extended. She spoke up in a rough, exotic accent. "Privet, comrade. We have words for you, as I am sure you have same for us, da?" Her Equestrian was laced with the strange tongue of a foreign language.

"Ragdoll, I was wonderin' when you'd show up." Buckshot greeted the odd mare cooly.

"As was I, friend." She smiled, revealing a row of sharp teeth.

Rust let out a somewhat nervous cough. "Pop a squat at the table. We've got a story to tell you."

The three ponies sat down at the kitchen table in the fading twilight. Buck couldn't help but feel apprehensive. The last time he'd sat down at a table with two ponies who had something to tell him, he'd learned his wife and foal had passed on a millennium ago.

Rust began. "I know how you appreciate it when ponies don't beat around the bush with you, so I'm going to hit the nail on the head right out of the gate. The reason Rags and I are here right now is because we are immortal."

"Like, the 'live-forever no matter what' immortal, or the 'live forever until somepony breaks your neck' kind."

Ragdoll gave out a harsh, barking laugh. "The first one, comrade. Trust us, much has happened to prove this."

Buck narrowed his eyes. "So you've been around this whole time, since I was frozen by that thrice-blasted cockatrice."

"So that's where you went, eh? Everypony wondered what happened to you."

"Aye... I'd rather not think of that right now, though," Buck pushed thoughts of his family broken by his vanishing from his mind. "But how is it that you two have defied kickin' the bucket for so long?"

"That is complicated answer, Buckshot." Ragdoll's tail lazily flicked at a mote of dust hanging in the air. "We were exposed to very strange magics, ones that changed us into what you see today."

Buck pondered this. "What kinda magic?"

"The magic that was used to create Equestria," said Rust. "Back before Celestia and Luna were Princesses."

"How old are you two exactly?"

"We've been here since the beginning."

Buck couldn't comprehend that. "The beginning of what?"

Rust spread his hooves around in a grand arc. "Since well, everything."

"You're makin' about as much sense as a dingo in a clown costume, right now, mate."

The sound of Rust's hoof colliding with his face in frustration rang out loudly in the quiet room. Ragdoll, filling the gap, spoke up. "We have been alive since creation of this universe, comrade. Ponimat?"

The knight thought for a moment, soaking it all up. If what she said was true, Rust and Ragdoll were the two oldest beings in existence. Something didn't make sense to him, though. "What do ya mean by this universe, Rags?"

"We come from other universe. We were different there. When we come here, the magics of the forming of this existence change us."

Buck drummed the table softly with his hooves. "So, how did ya get here, then? And how did ya get changed?"

"Somewhat changed," Rust interrupted. "We weren't always ponies, dude." He gestured to the cutie mark on his flank, a handprint of some kind of ape. "I used to have that instead of hooves. As for how we got here... Well, that's none of your damn business. Not even the Princesses know that."

"Righto, mate. So... you used to be a monkey."

Ragdoll busted out in laughter, while Rust frowned slightly, a red blush tinting his cheeks. "Not a monkey, dude. A bit more advanced. I'd rather not delve into that particular pool of mystery, though." He suddenly looked very sad, as if all the years of his existence suddenly came crashing down on his shoulders.

"Why is that, mate?"

"My kind were... Extreme." He was clearly unwilling to say more on the subject.

Ragdoll gave her companion a reassuring pat on his back before turning to Buck. "His people were the gods of his world. They tame the seas, voyage into cosmos, build great wonders. But they also stupid, da?" she shook her shaggy head sadly. "They fight over every little thing. By now, our world has probably been blown to tiny bits because of this."

Buckshot put his head in his hooves, feeling the waves of regret that came from the orangey-red unicorn sitting across the table. Anxious to shift to a new topic, he pointed at Ragdoll's cutie mark. "What about you, sheila? Ya got a different print on ya."

"I used to be type of cat. I was this one's pet, actually." She ruffled Rust's short mane affectionately. "Here though, in new motherland, we are equals."

"So is that why ya got those eyes?" Buck pointed to her pale feline pupils.

"Yes, and no. We were not completely changed when we come here. We still have some things about us that are same. My teeth still the same," she opened her mouth to show Buck a dangerous assortment of sharp fangs. "My claws changed, though," she held up her hoof and flicked it a little, and a large, curving bone spur shot out from the back of her hoof, midway from her first joint to the hoof itself. "And yes, we do eat meat," she added, giving a feral grin.

Buck shuddered. Ponies eating meat were unnatural in Equestria, but it wasn't like he could ask her to stop. "What about him?" he asked, pointing to Rust.

Rust looked up from where he'd been staring at the table in contemplation. "I got these," he smiled, revealing four small canines nestled into a regular set of pony teeth. "I just couldn't give up having bacon..." Buck wasn't sure if he wanted to know what that was. "And we both kept the way we think."

"What do ya mean, mate?"

He scratched his hoof to his chin. "Our thought processes are different. My kind were the top predator, but we also ate plants. So I think in terms of self preservation first. It's like, do you know how a child's behavior is determined by the parent?"

Buck nodded; he knew only too well.

"Well, Mother Earth, that's the world we came from, was the coldest bitch you'll ever meet." He gave a rueful chuckle. "That made us ruthless. We're able to cross certain boundaries with a lot less difficulty. Believe me, it's not as bad as you'd think. Having a psychopathic murderer in the house is actually quite a boon." To answer Buck's questioning stare, he nodded his head at Ragdoll. "For instance, we've never had a problem with mice, if you catch my drift."

Ragdoll let out a satisfied purr. Buck gave off another involuntary shudder.

He continued, "And I use magic in a different way then every other user in Equestria."

"Like how?"

Rust tapped his head, a sly smile on his face. "It's called thinking outside the box. Unpredictable is my middle name, you see. I can make things, to boot." The questioning look on Buckshot's face implored him to continue. "Instead of just summoning something from somewhere, I can create it!" He laughed. "Not even the Princesses know how to do that, and I'm not telling them either, no matter how much they bother me. Breaking the law of conservation of mass is enough of a discovery not to have to. I got along very well with Discord, as you can imagine."

"They know about you two?" Buckshot briefly considered why they hadn't told him, but quickly came to the conclusion that unless he'd heard it from Rust and Ragdoll themselves, he'd never have believed them.

"Dude, they are, like, gods. Only thing they can't do besides break the laws of physics is predict the future. Ragdoll here holds that unique title."

Buck stared at the shaggy mare in astonishment. "You can actually do that, mate?"

"Da. Though it is gift that often reveals things better left unknown." She paused for a moment and let out a cackle. "Though it does make me best at poker. Is that not right, Rust?"

"Bitch, you're never going to let me live that one down, are you? You very well knew I would take that stupid bet. And, for the record, my ass still hurts from that." He slammed his head into the table. "Don't ask, Buck. It was horrible."

Ragdoll denied him the pleasure of secrecy, however. "This stuipid tupitsa here had to jump into cactus farm because he ran out of bits after ten minutes of game," She said with laughter dancing in her eyes.

Buck attempted to steer the conversation back on track. "So, basically you're sayin' that botha ya can do things the rulers of night and day can't?"

"Da, comrade."

"And that ya both came from a different universe?"

"Your damn right, dude."

"And that you weren't always ponies?"

Rust bared his hybrid dentistry again, while Ragdoll flicked out one of her bone spurs. "Yes," they said as one.

"And you've been around since the beginning."

"Of everything, and then some,'" said Rust cryptically.

"So, you've watched the entire civilization of Equestria form over the course of thousands of years."

"Dude, it's been a long, strange, trip."

Buck finally got to what he had been aiming at. "So how do ya cope? I mean, ya obviously had ta have ponies ya knew, right? What happens when they die? How do ya soldier on with that for all eternity?" That question had been in the back of his mind since the beginning of the conversation. The weight of his lost wife and child had never truly left him, and asking these two immortal ponies for advice was the next best thing to asking Celestia herself.

To answer, Ragdoll's horn began to glow an icy blue, and a nearby cupboard opened for a large bottle of a clear liquid to levitate out into her hoof. She slammed it onto the table with gusto. "Vodka! Lots and lots of vodka!" she cried with zeal. Rust shook his head and ran a hoof through his short mane before answering.

"Everyone copes differently, dude. I can't exactly say I've dealt with this myself, even after all this time. The faces of the ponies I knew from eons ago I can still see as clear as day in my head. When I think back, yes, we had some great times with these guys, but they're long dead. That doesn't make sense to me, though. We die for a reason. Living forever isn't natural." He stared at his hooves intently. "Eventually, I just kind of accepted the fact that they had moved on, and I should too." He opened up the the bottle of vodka and took a hard swig. "The way I see it, I'm disrespecting their memories by feeling sad every time I remember. So I don't. I think about all the good times we had together, and nothing else." He took another swig and hoofed the bottle to Ragdoll. "...and the vodka helps, too."

Ragdoll poured the vodka into three shot glasses. "Now, comrade, I would like to speak of reason you are here tonight."

Buck looked out the window. Sure enough, night had fallen by this time.

Crikey, I've been here all bloody day!

Ragdoll continued. "You are here about room, da? You wish to live here?"

Buck nodded. This place was undoubtedly the weirdest building in Equestrian history, but for some reason the prospect of staying with his two oldest friends, regardless of their peculiarities, appealed to him greatly. "I'd luv ta."

The three ponies picked up the shots, clinked them together in a toast, and downed the fiery beverage. Rust let out a belch. "Fucktastic! We'll give you the grand tour of the place tomorrow. Rent is two-hundred bits a month. Pay up or get out. You know that room you woke up in? That's yours. Welcome to the Eternal Tower, Buckshot."

Attack of the Ankle-Biters

The sun rose over Ponyville, sending its cheery rays down onto the land. The effects of this blinding display of warmth and happiness were lost on a particularly large dark teal stallion, who, upon realizing he'd been so rudely awoken from his slumber by the bright sunbeams ricocheting around his whitewashed bedroom, promptly pulled down the window shades and retreated farther under the covers. He attempted to return to sleep, thrashing about as he tried to regain that peculiar position of comfort he'd had until mere moments ago. As if to combat his efforts, the morning sun retaliated with the peppy calls of chirping birds, driving the blissful silence of the day into oblivion. The stallion groaned and peeked out from under the covers, wincing as the blinding light of the sun bouncing off his white walls seared his retinas. A rather large headache began to pound a samba into the inside of his head, the result of a night filled with over-indulgence of a certain fiery brew. He rolled out of bed and fell to the floor, still wrapped up in his covers like a cocoon. The sharp crashing sound of glass hitting the wood paneling indicated that he'd gone to bed with more than one bottle under the covers. A few attempts were made to wiggle out of his prison, but eventually the stallion decided to simply lie there, eyes closed, until his head cleared enough to think rationally.

With a bang that seemed louder than a jackhammer plugged into an amplifier, the door to his room flew open. "Rise and shine, featherweight!" A familiar voice barked out. The stallion on the floor looked up at the intruder standing in the doorway with heavily lidded eyes, debating whether or not to beat him to a pulp now or later. Rust returned the gaze with his own stare, green gold-rimmed eyes dancing with amusement. "Oh, so sorry, Buck. Can't handle a few shots?" The unicorn's horn lit up with a pale green glow, and the blankets wrapped around their prisoner unraveled with blinding speed, sending the former occupant of their embrace into a spinning barrel roll that launched him onto his bed. A few bottles flew upwards with the impact.

Buck resisted the urge to vomit, the headache suddenly increasing its power. "G'day," he said weakly. Rust entered the room in his usual manner, with a quiet confidence and an odd, predatory grace. Buck couldn't help but wonder how the unicorn looked so well; he'd easily drank twice the amount Buck had.

The tone of Rust's voice suggested he was trying not to laugh. "Up and at'em, you lazy bastard! We've got a big day ready." as he spoke he went over to the shades and ripped them up. He gave a sadistic grin as Buck groaned at the increased level of lighting. "We'll show you around your new digs, and then we need to take you to the Town Hall to get your residency paperwork all filled out. Got to make this official, you know," he added as he turned around to go. When he passed through the threshold, he paused and looked around at the knight, who was valiantly attempting to rise from his bed on shaky hooves. "Oh, and the Cutie Mark Crusaders are at my front door. They're asking for you." Rust let out a cackle. Having to deal with the Crusaders on a hangover was one of the worst punishments he could think of.

Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo sat on the front stoop of the tower. Thoughts of various cuite marks danced through their young heads as they patiently awaited Buck's appearance. The Crusaders had heard Buck was looking for a new place to stay from Applejack, who'd related to them the events of his departure from Sweet Apple Acres. With their usual ear-splitting enthusiasm, they had resolved to help him out. By any means necessary. While Buckshot had been staying at Sweet Apple Acres, they'd taken immensely to him. Several sleepovers at the farm had shown that Apple Bloom's uncle got along famously with the mischievous fillies. He stayed up late with them, cooked them breakfast, and had even shown them some tricks he could do with his legendary leg strength. He was also one of the few adults who actually bothered helping them in their continuous quest for their cutie marks. Such dedication from a stallion who was literally a hundred times their age had won over the Crusaders, and they now viewed him almost like an honorary member of their society.

After searching fruitlessly for most of the morning, a chance encounter with a certain cross-eyed mailmare had revealed the building Buck was last seen at. A soft-spoken, yet incredibly foul-mouthed unicorn who called himself Rust had answered the door. After accidentally imparting the fillies with a few choice words that would make even Celestia blush through his usual lingo, he reported to them that their friend had indeed arranged to live here from now on, and was currently upstairs nursing what he fondly called, "a giant shit in his head". Whatever that meant.

Scootaloo looked up from where she'd been scuffing the stoop with her hoof. "Hey, Apple Bloom, what does 'shitfaced' mean?" she referred to one of the strange words the rust-colored unicorn had spoken earlier while explaining why Buck was going to take a while to come down to greet them.

"Ah dunno, Scoots, Ah'm still tryin' t' figure out what he meant when he mentioned 'the fiery nectar of the gods'."

Sweetie Belle chimed in. "Maybe it's like what happens to ponies when they have too much of Big Macintosh's special cider?" The fillies had been present one night when Buck and Big Mac had decided to have a friendly drinking game after a particularly hard day of work. Apple Bloom's brother had fought valiantly, but eventually succumbed to the cider and had passed out, slamming violently onto the table and sending a brewery's worth of cider bottles into the air. Uncle Buck had then proceeded to make a vulgar thrusting gesture at his defeated offspring before also collapsnig onto the floor, muttering something about a "dirty leprechaun" trying to steal his "lucky charms." All in all, it had been a very funny night.

Further conversation was interrupted when the front door was suddenly blown off its hinges, flying twenty feet into the road before crashing down onto the cobblestones. The Crusaders turned to the now-open portcullis, now filled by Buckshot. His mane was ragged, his bandanna was rumpled, and Applejack's old stetson now had a large scorch mark on the brim. The big stallion shrugged sheepishly, rubbing bloodshot eyes with a hoof. "G'arn... Sorry, sheilas, couldn't get the doorknob ta work. What can I do for ya?"

Scootaloo was the first to recover from the shock. "We're here to help you move in!"

Sweetie Belle launched the set up. "Because we are..." The three fillies took a deep breath. The world seemed to tremble in fear of what was coming next.

Buckshot covered his ears. "Wait, wait, wait, please don't do tha-" His pleas for mercy were denied.

"CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS HOUSEWARMERS!" Their cry was powerful enough to disintegrate a few of the clouds over head. Some of the more delicate glass window panes in town cracked. The three fillies looked back at Buck, only to find him cowering on the ground, two hooves pressed firmly to the sides of his head while he moaned in pain.

"Hey!" came the sound of Rust's voice from above. The Crusaders gazed up to could see his head poking out of one of the upper windows. "Chill the fuck out, guys!" he yelled. "If you wake up Rags before noon she's going to claw my balls off!" He pointed to the broken door Buckshot had kicked into the street. "And tell Captain Klutzbucket down there that he's going to pay for that!"

Buck managed to haul himself back to his hooves. "Ughh..," he groaned. "Come on in, I guess. Wipe your hooves first, though."

The Cutie Mark Crusaders buried him in an avalanche of pain in a mad dash to be the first one inside.

Buckshot on the stairs on the floor of the tower with the kitchen, an ice pack pressed firmly to the side of his head. The Crusaders were sitting around the table, chatting amiably. Empty plates and glasses were set before them, as of yet untouched by food. Rust was busy working at the open-top stove, managing a plethora of skillets all cooking simultaneously. As he moved from one skillet to the others, he was constantly adjusting the heat, flipping the contents of the pan over with a experienced flick of his hoof, or adding a pinch of this and a pinch of that. His hooves danced over the stovetop like a master pianist in his element, yet as Rust worked he barely glanced at the cooking food. "Now, my little ponies, you're here for the grand tour, right?" He addressed the Crusaders at the table.

Scootaloo picked up a fork and raised it in the air. "Right now, I'm here for the food! How long's it gonna take, huh?" she asked impatiently. Rust answered by picking up a sizzling piece of seared broccoli and pegging her between the eyes with it. The broccoli bounced off her forehead and landed in the center of her plate. Scootaloo rubbed her forehead, grumbling about lousy service, but nonetheless speared the offending vegetable with her fork and popped it in her mouth.

Rust continued as if nothing had happened. "Anyway, the Eternal Tower is a marvel of magical engineering." He tossed a pinch of salt from around his back into a pan without even looking. "See that staircase your lightweight of a friend is sitting on, nursing his fat head with an ice pack?" Buck glared up at him from his spot on the staircase. "That bitch right there runs through the center of the whole tower, top to bottom. Now, as you may have already noticed if you'd bothered to look out the fucking window, you're roughly four stories up."

Sweetie Belle pondered this. "Yeah, what's up with that, Mr. Rust? We only went up one flight of stairs! And from the outside, your house only has three floors. How can we be higher up than that?"

Rust proceeded to slam down on the handle of a skillet on the edge of the stove, sending its contents arcing across the room in a graceful rainbow of culinary delight. The entire serving of food landed onto Sweetie Belle's plate in an artful arrangement. "Because, my little pony, this tower has as many goddamn floors as you want it to." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Probably should have added an elevator, now that I think about it."

"Whaddaya mean by that, Mr. Rust? Are you sayin' that this here tower just goes up forever and forever?" Apple Bloom mused.

"I don't know, actually. And don't call me mister. I might be really fucking old, but I'm not that fucking old." He paused to slam another skillet down, sending a second stream of food onto Apple Bloom's plate. "See, this place has a spell on it. When you go up or down a floor, you end up on a floor that relates to what you want at the moment." Rust pointed to Buckshot, who had his head in his hooves, groaning softly. "Hey! Fatass! Do me favor, will ya?"

Buck looked up from his misery and groaned faintly.

Rust took this as a yes. "Go downstairs, and while you do so, think about curing that hangover of yours." Buckshot stood up on shaky hooves and plodded downstairs, the metal staircase sending out loud clangs that made him wince with every step. Rust gave a sly grin to the Crusaders. "Watch this shit, It's going to be hilarious."

There was a surprised yell from downstairs. Buck's head poked up from the staircase. "Oy! Where's the front door? The room down there is completely different now!" Scootaloo, who still had no food, zipped over from the table to confirm this. She jumped down the staircase and joined Buck on the floor below. Sure enough, instead of the ground floor of the tower, the room was different. It was very dark, there was a strange coffin-shaped device filled with a blue glowing liquid off to the side, and there was a bubbling fountain off to the other. Scootaloo went over to a draped window and looked outside. She could see for miles, the view was so high up. The hung-over knight joined her at the window, staring in disbelief.

"What the clop? We went downstairs. How are we higher up?" He gazed out at Equestria spread out before him. They could see the clouds far below them, and small traces of frost coated the window. The mountains were so distant they looked like ants. From above, they could hear Rust roaring with laughter.

"Featherweight!" he called down. "See that big blue tank? Jump in that fucker! It'll cure that headache of yours!" A loud clang sounded, an the soft plop of food hitting the table indicated that Scootaloo's breakfast was ready. She bolted back up the stairs, leaving Buckshot alone in the dark room.

Cautiously, he approached the tank. It was roughly as tall as him, and shaped like a large barrel. Through the glass walls he could see a pale blue liquid that shone with a faint light. Throwing caution to the wind at the prospect of relieving the unbearable pain, Buck flexed his powerful hind legs and leaped up and over the edge of the tank. The impact of the large stallion hitting the liquid didn't stir it, however; it just jiggled a little like gelatin as his bulk broke through the surface. Even more interesting was that the substance gave him a strange, yet oddly satisfying, tingly sensation that was not unlike having a fan blowing at you on a hot summer's day. Without thinking, Buck let out a gasp at the experience, forgetting he was under. Immediately, the cool blue stuff shot down his throat and into his lungs. He panicked and began to thrash, albeit slowly because of the high resistance of the fluid around him. His vision began to fade from holding his breath in, continuously struggling to climb out of the tank.

That was when it hit him.

Why aren't I drownin'?

Strangely, he hadn't actually felt like he was choking on something when he inhaled the mixture. In fact, the stuff inside his lungs felt surprisingly good, as if he had just swallowed a mouthful of fresh mountain air. Buck took another tentative breath, resisting the urge to cough as more of the liquid entered his windpipe. His eyes, tinted a bright blue from the surrounding environment, widened in surprise. He was breathing underwater. He exhaled, and the stuff flowed freely out of his mouth, although he did have to push a little bit harder due to the denser nature of it. Now that Buck had restored some semblance of rationality, he proceeded to reach up and out of the tank, wrapping his hooves around the edge, and slowly pulled himself out. He fell over the edge and hit the floor with an earth-shaking boom.

He lay there for a while, eyes closed, as he coughed out the stuff from his lungs and replaced it with air. Buck felt a hoof poke him in the gut, so he opened his eyes to look up. Rust was standing over him, a mischievous grin on his face. Buck spat out the last of the glowing substance. "What the hay was that, mate?"

"That, my dear Watson, is a goddamn bacta tank. With a few modifications, of course. I poofed it up a few centuries ago on a whim of Star Wars nostalgia. It's been curing hangovers ever since." Rust helped him up. Buck noted with surprise that his coat, bandanna, and hat were completely dry, despite being submerged. He had absolutely no idea what Rust was talking about, however.

"Bahhch-tah tank?" he rolled the unfamiliar word around his tongue. He could hear the sound of the Crusaders upstairs performing a holocaust on all things breakfasty. "In Equestrian, for the love of Luna."

Rust walked up to the tank and patted it fondly. "For the benefit your diminutive equine cranium, I will elaborate." he said in a sarcastic, scholarly tone. "Pony sick. Pony jump in tank. Pony jump out of tank. Pony get better. By the way," he added. "How do you feel?"

Buck was about to bark a particularly scathing retort when he noticed that his headache was completely gone. In fact, he felt like a million bits. "Better," he admitted grudgingly.

"Fucktastic! Now let's go. We need to get to the Town Hall before it closes."

"What about the tour?" Buck asked. A crash sounded from upstairs. It sounded like breaking china. "And the Crusaders?" he added.

"They'll be coming with us. It's going to take us half the day to get there with those adorable balls of destruction tagging along anyway." He pulled Buck close. Buck could see the fear in his unusual gold-rimmed pupils. "And between you and me," he whispered, nervously glancing around. "Rags is not a morning pony. I'd like to spare the girls any unnecessary mental scarring."

"Errrr... all righty, then."

Rust slammed his hooves together, resuming his usual calm swagger. "Aaaaalllllllll righty then! Let's boogie!" He began to run up the stairs. Halfway up, he paused and looked back at Buck, who was following a little less enthusiastically. "Oh, and we're all going out tonight for drinks. To celebrate your official residency."

Buck gaped at him. "But we did that last night, mate!"

Rust returned his look with a blank stare. "I don't understand. Why is that a problem?" He pointed to the Bacta Tank. "No more hangovers, remember? And besides, I've got to introduce you to a few of my friends." And with that, he sauntered off to the kitchen.

Buckshot was left on the staircase, staring at the space the eccentric unicorn had just occupied.

This place is off it's cloppin' rocker.

I like it here.

Author: Happy New Year's everypony! Anyway, fan-created OC's will be announced next chapter. I have resolved to celebrate the entrance of these delightful characters by introducing them in the most colorful way possible! And what is that, you might ask? STAY TUNED AND FIND OUT.

The Five-Leaf Clover

"... All right, seriously. How did you fillies manage to do it?"

"Do what, Mr. Rust?"

"We were in there for ten minutes. In that time, you three have somehow managed to completely destroy the fucking place, duct-tape Mayor Mare to the flagpole, and, to top it off, I think you traumatized Featherweight over here!" Rust gestured to Buckshot, who was sitting on the ground, slowly rocking back and forth with a glazed look in his eye.

"No more lima beans, Mum, I'm full, I swear..." The stricken stallion muttered to himself.

The Cutie Mark Crusaders, Buckshot, and Rust were outside the Town Hall, or, at least where the building used to stand. There was an enormous pile of wreckage in place of where the local government of Ponyville had once existed. The group had come here to fill out Buck's residency paperwork, and in that time the Crusaders had lived up to and exceeded their destructive reputation. The fire department had parked a firetruck out in front, with a ladder extended upwards. A lone firemare was perched in the basket, trying to cut down Mayor Mare, who was tied upside-down to the flagpole at the very top.

"I'm not mad at you or anything. At this point, I'm just curious as to how in the hell you were able to do that."

Sweetie Bell pulled a red, tubed shaped stick out of Apple Bloom's saddlebags. She held it up for the unicorn to see.

"Is that... Holy shit in a box, Batman, is that dynamite?!?!"

The reply was as swift and coordinated as it was detrimental to hearing health. "CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS PYROTECHNICS EXPERTS! YAY!"

The earspiltting cry seemed to snap Buck out of his mental stagnation. He looked up and shook his head, as if he'd just been hit with something heavy. "What about Mayor Mare? Crikey, she must be at least thirty feet up!"

For a response, Scootaloo revved her wings, and Apple Bloom pulled a miniature trampoline from her saddlebags. Strangely, the trampoline itself was bigger than the bag she pulled it from. To this day, nopony knows how she does it.

"Righto, so Scootaloo used her wings and the tramp to tie her up. But how didja get Mayor Mare up there in the first place?"

Sweetie Belle sheepishly waggled the stick of dynamite. Rust burst out into hysterical laughter, rolling around on the cobblestones in a fit of hilarity. Tears leaked from his eyes as he held his stomach, giggling madly. Buck facehooved and sighed, mightily resisting the urge to join him. "Gimme that, Sweetie; you'll blow your eye out with it. Or worse." Somewhat reluctantly, the light gray filly gently hooved it over to him. Buck gingerly put it in his own saddlebags. "I think it's time you girls went home," he stated. "And please, for the love of Luna, next time you go Crusading, try something that isn't likely to level the town."

"Awwwwwwww! But why?" The reply was simultaneous, and its effect was only increased as the three proceeded to activate their Ultra-Cute faces. The word "adorable" doesn't even come close to describing it.

"Dude, that is so fucking cute that I think my eyeballs are going to burn up." Rust covered his face with his hooves. "Make it stop before I go on an uncontrollable rampage of love and toleration," he pleaded vehemently.

Buck simply pointed to the wreckage of what was once the Town Hall. "That is why, my little sheilas." As he spoke, an unbroken stretch of wall collapsed, sending up an enormous crash and great clouds of dust.

After the Crusaders had left, Buckshot and Rust headed into town. As promised, Rust was going to take Buck to a local pub to meet some friends and neighbors of his. They strolled down Stirrup Street, admiring the town in the evening sun. As they walked, Buck found himself constantly having to adjust his pace; his long legs took one step for every two that Rust did.

Around this time of day, the vast majority of tourists and vistors to Ponyville tended to leave the broad avenue of Stirrup in favor of the smaller side streets. Shops with open counters that directly catered to the passerby on the street tended to make a killing. Colorful confections, trinket shops, and street kiosks took advantage of the influx of potential buyers enjoying the cool air of the shaded streets by offering special deals. For a few bits, and a respectable sense of haggling, one could walk away from these small shops with a decent haul of knick-knacks and fatty foods.

While the surge of daily visitors migrated to the more back-door ends of Ponyville, the town's main street came alive with its true denizens. Making full use of the space that the wide road provided, a nightly festival, put on by those ponies who felt inclined to do so, would take place under Princess Luna's moon. Street musicians played for free around this time, seeking only to brighten the atmosphere with a colorful sonnet or a warbling melody. As the two stallions made their way down the street, they were assaulted by the sudden barrage of neon glows, emitted by the windows of many establishments seeking to attract more customers by having the best and showiest signs.

They stopped outside a particular building, halfway down Stirrup Street on either side of town. It was a few stories tall, a squat brick building that had a bar situated on the top floor. The bottom two floors held various apartments and storage rooms, but none of them were used very often, due to the chaotic nature of the business over their heads. A slightly faded large green sign advertised the pub's name in an elegant script.

"I like the name," Buck murmered, gazing at the particularly iconic neon sign that displayed the bar's namesake. "That's where we're headin'?"

"Da, comrade." A new voice spoke up. Buck turned around to find Ragdoll calmly gliding down the sidewalk from the way they had just came. The rainbow of colors shining from nearby windows dyed her fluffy white coat an unusual spectrum of hues. Ragdoll approached them in a strange silence, padding towards them on silent hooves with all the veiled grace that a lion with a full stomach might approach a wounded antelope with. "This place has been second home to us for many years," she explained. "We have sort of tradition of coming here at least once a week to meet friends, ponimat?

Rust's voice sounded softly from where he was standing, holding the door open for the two ponies still out on the sidewalk. "A word of advice. Frankly, these guys make about as much sense as someone telling you that we're a pair of immortal aliens that live an tower with an impossible amount of flooring; where you can go upstairs and end up in the basement."

Buck scratched his head in confusion. "But I've already been through that."

"Otlichnyi. Then you know what to expect." Ragdoll entered the doorway and ascended the staircase in bounds, taking the steps four at a time.

"Trust me, I gave up tryin' ta figure out what's gonna happen next a long time ago, sheila," Buck muttered as he followed her up.

The inside of the bar was lit in the way that only a place devoted purely to alcohol consumption could be: bright enough to see your drink in front of your hooves, but dim enough so that your eyes wouldn't hurt too much when you woke up on the floor the net morning. A long, darkly-stained oak bar took up the left side of the room, ending where the floor rose up a few steps to a sort of elevated seating area in the back of the pub that contained a few booths. The right side of the roof contained a various assortment of tables, all different sizes. The chairs that sat next to them were also all different. The entire setup of furniture indicated that the original barroom furniture had either been destroyed by now, or the place had started out with the slapdash assortment of tables and chairs that would look more at home in a grandmother's garage sale. Buck assumed it was the first cause, due to how each piece seemed to have numerous nicks and scrapes that can only come about from having it slammed around into something hard.

At the bar a stocky dark gray Pegasus with a yellow buzz-cut mane was busy cleaning a wall of glasses with numerous cloths held by his wings. While his two extra appendages were occupied, he used his front hooves to set drinks down for the four or five patrons at the long bar. The vast majority of ponies in the room were sitting at the tables or booths in the back. One of them in particular, a chocolate brown unicorn with a short, wavy mane of a darker coloration, square glasses, and magnificent goatee put down the harmonica he'd been playing as the three newcomers entered the room.

"R 'n 'R! How are you two doing on this fine winter's night?" he called out with exaggerated eloquence. Rust and Ragdoll, whom Buck had supposed were the ones the unicorn had referred to by "R and R" went up to him and exchanged greetings.

"Omnius, you son of a bitch, when'd you get back here?" asked Rust as he bumped hooves with the bearded pony.

Ragdoll gave him a small hug. "More importantly, where did you go this time?"

Omnius gave a chortle. "Oh, you know, I get around." He slammed his hoof down on the bar and called to the bartender. "Hey, Shwartzenneighger! Two of the usual for R and R, and my own special for me."

The stocky gray pegasus looked up from the glass he'd been cleaning. "Omnius, this is a bar," he said with a ridiculous Germane accent. "You don't have to drink just the soda here."

"But I LIKE the soda!"

The bartender hit his head onto his bar. "Confound these ponies," he muttered. "They drive me to drink!" He turned around and gazed at the vast plethora of brews on the wall behind the bar. "Good thing I own the place!"

Omnius turned back from the bar and eyed the third member of his friend's party with interest. "Who's your friend here? He kinda looks like Big Macintosh, you know." He scratched his beard thoughtfully. "I like the hat by the way. I feel like I've seen it before." The unicorn hopped off the stool and stood before Buckshot, holding out his hoof. The sheer size of the massive stallion towering over him did not seem to intimidate him in the slightest. "My name's Omnius the Traveler. Traveler's the name, Traveling's the game!" Buck shook his hoof in the usual Apple fashion and admitted himself a small grin of amusement as he watched the smaller pony shake violently from the exchange.

"G'day, mate. Name's Sir Buck Apple. But you can call me Buckshot, or Buck, for short." He tapped the old Stetson on his head. "As for the hat, my, uh, niece gave to me for Hearth's Warming."

The bartender slid a bottle of soda down the bar, which Omnius caught, popped the top off, and drained in one smooth gulp. "Apple, huh? Say, you wouldn't happen to be related to the delightful ponies down at Sweet Apple Acres, eh?"

"As a matter 'o fact, I'm their uncle. Why, you know 'em?"

Omnius' eyes lit up with the light of experience. "You know, when I first came to this town, they were the first ponies I met. I don't recall seeing you at the Acres, or at the Apple family reunion, though."

"I've been away for a long time, mate. Only recently got back," Buck said with a twinge of melancholy.

Sensing he'd hit a sore spot, Omnius dropped the subject. "Well, seeing as you're new here, why don't I introduce you to a few ponies I know? I'm sure the readers would love for you to do that!"

"The readers..?" Buck was suddenly reminded of PInkie Pie.

"Hah! Did I say that? I meant... You know what? Just come with me, big guy."

The two left Rust and Ragdoll at the bar and headed to the raised area in the back. Seated at corner booth against the wall and a window were three ponies, all nursing drinks of some sort or another. Closest to Buck and Omnius sat a muscular, white, gold-armored pegasus who looked like a member of the Royal Guard. He gave a stiff nod of acknowledgement at the pair's approach. Another Pegasus sat to his left, smaller, his coat the blackest of black, with large, extremely feathery wings, and dark shaded goggles covering his eyes. He was busy reading a small book, too absorbed to look up. Sitting across from the two pegasi was a massive unicorn who was built like a tank, also quite black, with a short, ragged black mane, who was also reading a book. He put it down when he noticed Buck and Omnius, though, and rose up from the table to greet them.

Buck almost had to do a double take, the black unicorn was almost as big as he was. Almost. With a smug sense of pride he realized that he and Big Macintosh were still the biggest ponies around, save Princess Celestia, who easily had half a foot on Big Mac, and Princess Luna, who was of the same height as Buckshot.

"Hey. Name's Obsidian," the dark mountain introduced himself gruffly with a hint of a northern accent. The two enormous stallions shook hooves. Buck immediately decided he liked this pony. The unicorn sat back down at the booth and edged over to the window, patting the spot near the edge, indicating Buck should sit down.

Omnius grinned from where he was standing at the head of the table as Buck sat down next to Obsidian. "I guess I'll leave you four to yourselves, then." He turned to Buck and said teasingly, "Play nice now, I don't want to have to leave because of you." With a laugh, he sauntered over to his open space at the bar next to Rust and Ragdoll, playing a merry tune on his harmonica as he went.

Obsidian grunted with a bit of annoyance. "I just love how he's always so giddy when he's here, and yet all he drinks is soda." he said dryly.

The armored pegasus looked up from his drink, which was non-alcoholic. "What's wrong with just drinking soda?" he barked. The white hoof holding his mug moved left and right, mixing the contents. "Maybe someponies just like to keep a clear head, have you ever considered that?" The tone he used indicated that he was used to having people listen to him without raising his voice.

The smaller black Pegasus next to him looked up from the little book he had been absorbed in. "For shame, Cloudhammer. Why must you be so argumentative? Calm down; our friend was just making an observation. We do a have a new face amongst our midst, after all." He murmured gloomily. He turned a page and adjusted one of the silver bands worn on his legs. "The world is bad enough as it is, no need to make it any more unpleasant." he added rather melodramatically. "And besides, you're off duty for the next two days, you need to loosen up."

Cloudhammer snorted. "That's Captain Cloudhammer. And I don't drink alcohol. As a member of the Royal Guard, I need to be on the tips of my hooves at all times. This includes when I am currently not on duty."

Buckshot interrupted. "Royal Guard, y'say? Aren't they supposed to be, you know, with the royalty?"

"I was ordered to come here explicitly by Princess Celestia herself. Her sister, Princess Luna, is coming to town in a few days and she's having me scout out the town advance before the other Guard arrive." He looked at his beverage like he'd just lost his appetite. "I wouldn't dream of leaving Princess Celestia's side unless she forced me to."

Princess Luna was coming back to Ponyville? Buck digested this particular bit of information as the conversation continued. Obsidian gave out a chortle, emitting a sound similar to two large boulders grinding together. "She threatened you with the 'Brushie-Brushie' again, didn't she?"

The Captain reddened slightly from under his helmet, but otherwise maintained the famously rock-solid facial expression of which the Royal Guard was famous for.

The smaller black pegasus spoke up again, reciting from the small book in his hoof.

"From more than fiends on earth,

Thy life and love are riven,

To join the untainted mirth

Of more than thrones in heaven."

Buck scratched his head in confusion. "What's that suppose to mean, mate?"

Obsidian thumped the table with his hoof in approval. "Edgar Allan Poney. Good stuff." He turned to the other large stallion sitting next to him. "Kashiro here is basically saying that the good Captain needs to see the humor in life before it's over." Kashiro nodded in agreement.

"You aren't the one whose services are being horribly misused. My helmet bristles are not a hair-care product, despite what the Princess will say." The Captain ran a hoof through the tough blue hairs sticking out of the top of his helmet crest and shuddered slightly with the memory.

Kashiro placed a reassuring hoof on Cloudhammer's shoulder. The Captain shot the smaller Pegasus a look that could thaw ice and freeze it all over again. The extremely feathery wings on Kashiro's body wilted in fear from the stare, which had been perfected on generations of Royal Guard trainees at the Palace in Canterlot. Desperate to change the subject, he looked at Buckshot. "So, my friend, I believe you have not introduced yourself yet."

Buck nodded. "The name's Sir Buck Apple." He noted the Captain's eyes widen slightly at the mention of his title. "But you can call me Buck. I'm new in town, and I'm lookin' for work, too, if ya have any ideas." Ignoring that the Captain had just struck a small salute, Buck continued. "I'm livin' with Rust and Ragdoll over by Sugarcube corner."

Obsidian rumbled with laughter. "Oh, I love those two. I was wondering when somepony would answer their ad for renting out a room." He rubbed two massive hooves together. "As for a job, I have an idea."

"Do tell, mate."

"How about down at the railyard? I work there myself, and I know we have a position up for opening. We need a big stallion like yourself, and you look plenty strong enough for the job."

Buck rolled the unfamiliar word around in his mouth. "What's a railyard?"

Kashiro spoke up. "The railyard is the place where the cars from trains that stop at Ponyville are sorted and arranged for their respective departing or arriving lineup."

"Errr... What's a train?"

Cloudhammer gave him a look of disbelief. Buck just shrugged. "What? Like I said, I'm not from around here."

"Clearly..." The Captain muttered.

Obsidian re-entered the conversation. "Why don't you meet me at Sugarcube Corner at dawn, and I'll show you the railyard. Who knows? You might like what you see."

Buck pondered this. Here was an opportunity to find a new job, and one which clearly seemed physically demanding, if ponies like Obsidian and himself were the normal workers. It sounded like a very good idea.

"I'd love ta. I'll see ya at dawn, savvy?"

Time Keeps On Slipping

Spectrum Sprint slowly flew over the forest, completing the most recent of many passes for the day. Her wings felt heavy, and hot, like somepony had replaced her blood with molten iron. The usual hazy streak of color that followed her path was nowhere in sight, an unusual occurrence for her, given that it failed to appear at low speeds, something that Spectrum strongly disliked. Under different circumstances, the athletic, multicolored Pegasus might have enjoyed that familiar burning of over-worked flight muscles. But Ponyville's first weather-pony was too exhausted to even acknowledge the strain.

She'd spent the last few weeks scanning the Everfree in her spare time, looking.

"I owe Leafdapple that much at least. I can't give up on him now," she murmured to herself.

A quiet, persistent voice in the back of her mind reminded her that anypony who'd gone missing in the forest had never been seen again.

"No!" Spectrum yelled out loud to herself. "Not him! He's better than that!"

You've heard the stories. Ever since he got back from the tournament, he's been acting different.

"Shut up! It doesn't matter! I can't turn my back on him OR her!"

What do you owe them?

"They gave me everything! I was nothing until I came here, just another washout on the streets of Cloudsdale."

It's been weeks. He'd have come back by now.

She snorted. Spectrum couldn't tell if it was the fact that she was arguing with herself out loud that bothered her or whether it was the fact that she was losing.

Everypony else has given up by now.

"Except his family. Except his daughter, Except his wife, who also happens to be my best friend!"

You could just tell her that it's hopeless. You know she'd believe you.

Spectrum growled back. "I would never be so disloyal."

And yet the thought has crossed your mind.

"Oh? And how would you know!"

For starters, you're arguing with yourself; you already know what's going on in here.

Spectrum circled in a shallow, banking turn, barely flapping. She relished the break her sore wings got. The strange pillars of warm air that circulated out of the Everfree buoyed her light frame upwards. She had spent hours like this, during times when she needed to think, simply rising higher and higher until her breath misted in front of her eyes. Riding the thermals was a great way to spend some time alone, but Spectrum quickly realized if she allowed that to happen she'd eventually convince herself to abandon all hope. That was unacceptable. The Apples were counting on her.

With a grunt, she rolled out of the thermal and streaked down towards the forest to make another pass.

I will not let them down. Until they've given up, neither can I.

Apple Blossom sat on the porch of the Apple's ranch home, watching the wind playfully tease the leaves of the tiny seedlings that sprouted up from the soon-to-be orchard. She ran a hoof over the pink bandanna she was holding, remembering when her father had given it to her. She remembered being so thrilled when he'd presented it, pulling it out of saddlebags bursting with apples. She remembered the cool texture of it as he wrapped it around her head, carefully pushing her unruly red bangs out of her eyes as he did so. She remembered the reflection of herself in his eyes, as he looked down on her with a look of happiness that only a proud father could give. She remembered thinking to herself how cool it was that both she and him both had bandannas now.

She remembered the day she'd gotten her cutie mark. The last one in her class to do so, she'd endured the taunts and verbal jabs to the point where she ignored them as they simply washed over her like a stream washes over a pebble. She remembered how happy they had been that day, when the image of the budding flower of an apple tree had finally appeared on her flank, symbolizing her special talent for creation. She remembered how hard her father had smiled when it had happened, how he'd picked her up and spun her around and around until she felt like she was going to sick, and how she didn't care what else happened as long as he didn't stop. She remembered how he had roared his happiness up to the sky, proclaiming to the Goddesses his pride and joy for her.

She remembered how badly she'd wanted to be like him. He had been their rock, as well as their pillow; soft when he needed to be, and hard when he didn't. She remembered how she'd appreciated that. Her father had always known what to do when his family needed him. He had always protected them and cared for them. She knew that he'd throw down his life if it meant her's could last a mere moment longer.

A single tear fell down onto the pink bandanna, darkening the cloth in a perfect circle as she remembered her father. She put it back around her head and tied it firmly, her eyes steeling up.

She had to be the strong one now. Apple Blossom knew her father would have come back by now. There was only one possible explanation for his absence.

He wasn't coming back.

All she could do was remember him.

Leafdapple stared at the painting hanging over the fireplace. It showed the image of the home, just after completion, with its future occupants standing proudly on the front lawn, proudly bearing a number of nicks and scrapes associated with construction. Every face showed a smile, despite how hard the work had been. Her eyes lingered longingly over her husband's massive form, taking in his face. He had that look on him, that proud, if somewhat smug one that said "I knew we could do it". His heavy-lidded eyes were practically laughing with joy, the artist had done them so well.

Leafdapple shifted her gaze to the figure next to him, intently watching her own familiar red figure. The mare in the painting had a longer mane than she did now, spiky golden locks covering one cyan eye. She was leaning against her husband, sporting a terrific scrape on her hoof, but she was seemingly oblivious to it. Her eyes were fixed on the tiny yellow filly, barely a few years old, who had been painted in between the two, caught mid-bounce. Leafdapple fondly remembered that day; Apple Blossom couldn't sit still, despite having helped with construction earlier that morning.

The red mare turned away from the painting with some difficulty. That was one of the few images of her husband in the house. Paintings were expensive to make, and they'd never had many extra bits to spare. Leafdapple made her way into the kitchen and splashed some water on her face, attempting to clear her head. The cool liquid felt soothing on her eyes, which were red and puffy from many a sleepless night. For a while she managed to focus solely on the sensation, relishing the relief it brought.

Eventually the cold water began to numb her face, so she stopped the flow and reached for a towel. The fibers felt strangely nonexistent to her; she could feel the pressure, but not the texture. The chill of her wash had desensitized her face thoroughly. Leafdapple straightened up and set the towel down before trotting over to her place at the kitchen table.

Despite only being used for a few years, the massive pine slab was scored with innumerable marks from careless mistakes with silverware, crashing dinnerware, and other various objects brutally slamming into it's ringed surface. Idly, Leafdapple sat down and began counting the small rings that spread outward form the center. As she did so, a memory flashed through her mind.

It was the day they'd brought the slab into the house. The roof wasn't even completed yet, so the sky could be seen through the several gaps present. Leafdapple dimly recalled the ceiling had looked kind of like a piano, except where the black keys went there was only the blue of the great beyond instead. She and Buckshot had finally finished rolling the great wheel through the door way, and both were covered in sweat, panting. They'd sat down against the wall, admiring the wooden monstrosity.

"Look at the size of it. How old do you think it is?" she'd asked him.

He'd pondered this for a while. "Few hundred years at least."

She remembered being surprised at this. "How can you tell?"

He stood and picked her up, placing her in front of the table with about as much effort as one would use to lift a napkin. The table was currently on it's side, it's freshly revealed rings creating a slightly disorientating spiral. He had placed her hoof on the surface, gently running it over the uncountable lines. "See those?"

She'd nodded, intently watching them.

"These are the growth rings. Every cycle of seasons, the tree makes a new one as it grows up and out."

"There are so many, though," she'd said in wonder.

"Exactly. This tree might have been the oldest in the forest for all we know."

"And we cut it down?" her voice took on a twinge of guilt for the fallen monarch.

"Aye," he wrapped a massive forelimb around her neck. "But don't think badly of it."

"Why, Buck?"

"The rings might show it's age, but they also reveal how well it lived."

She'd snuggled up to him, breathing in his warmth as he spoke. "How so?"

Buck had pointed to the rings again. "See how they're really thick? That means the tree grew a lot that year. When a tree has a growin' season like that, it makes a lot of seeds in the spring." Her husband rubbed the wood reverently. "How many seeds do ya think this thing made a year? You saw how big it was 'fore we cut it down."

Her eyes widened as she imagined the sheer scale of reproduction. "Thousands, maybe," she'd breathed in realization.

"Aye. And that's just in one year."

"So... What's your point?"

"This here tree has sired maybe half the forest if your guess is true. It had a good run, but it had ta come down."

"But why? Why not leave it there?"

He gave her a squeeze and looked up through a hole in the roof. "If we didn't take it down, it woulda fallen soon anyway, taking out a huge swath of bush when it did. We did the forest a favor, savin' it from unneeded harm."

"Trees fall all the time, why is this one any different?"

"We cleared room for more growth. With this biggun-," He slapped the slab fondly. "-Outta the way, ten more trees can grow up in its place."

Leafdapple had thought about this for a moment. "And so those trees could grow up and make more?"

"Good onya. Now yer gettin' it." He gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "Sometimes ya need ta take out a giant to let his children grow."

Those last words echoed around in her head. Whether he'd realized it or not, those words had lately come to define her.

Now the question was if she could let herself grow in her giant's absence.

Ironhorse

Of all the strange things one experiences in life, quite possibly one of the most peculiar may be waking up in an awkward situation. Perhaps with another entity in your bed that you don't even remember meeting. Perhaps you might find yourself in somepony else's bed, and you've no idea where you are or how to get home. Maybe you'll find yourself in your room, but on a completely new bed that you never remember purchasing. Or even, maybe you will be waking up all alone, when you know there was another figure by your side when last you closed your eyes.

Or perhaps, like a certain dark teal earth pony, you'll wake up screaming.

As Luna's moon fell over the horizon, and its brighter counterpart began the long climb into the blue abyss, a bellowing cry shook the Eternal Tower to its foundations. The racket was so great that it succeeded in frightening off the bolder species of birds that used its roof as a hunting perch. A passing pony would have thought that the noise greatly resembled a mighty Ursa bellowing out in pain and fear. A passing psychologist would have recommended that the pony meet them in their office at once for immediate trauma therapy. A passing filly or colt would probably have wet themselves. A passing Fluttershy would have given Rainbow Dash a run for her money by managing to create Equestria's very first Sonic Flutterboom in her haste to flee. The echoing roar was raw and savage, as if it had come from the deepest of instincts, yet tainted with the pitch of desperation.

Buckshot was sitting bolt upright in his bed, back flat against the wall. He was breathing as if somepony had tied another set of weights around his legs and had him participate in the Running of the Leaves. A bead of sweat descended from his shaking forehead, the moisture cooling against the hot coat as it traveled down to the tip of his nose. His ocean eyes flickered around the bare room, frantically, searching for some kind of danger. When he had determined that there was none to be found, he relaxed and took inventory on himself.

His upper half was tightly wrapped up by some sheets, constricting the motion of his forelegs to a minimum. He duly noted the large, jagged, hoof-shaped chunks in the stone wall to the side of his bed. He'd been kicking in his sleep apparently. Buck took the sheets in his mouth and slowly began unraveling himself, thinking to himself as he craned his neck this way in that due to the lack of his dexterous front appendages.

What the clop was that?

His efforts were rewarded by the significant relief in his left foreleg as it was released from its bonds. Buck continued onto his right leg, still breathing heavily out from his nose as he worked. With the added assistance of his freed hoof, the work went less slowly, but was still hindered by several rather large knots in the blanket.

I can't even remember why I'm so spooked.

He grunted a bit as he wormed his way out of the linen prison. Buck had never been a deep sleeper, always the first to wake if there sounded a bump in the night. He often thrashed and kicked in his sleep, much to the annoyance of his wife, who had, on occasion, sent him to the sofa simply because his nighttime movements had a tendency to get a little violent if he was having nightmares. Buck stuck his back hoof into one of the large indents in the stone wall. A perfect fit. He snorted with frustration. What a way to start the day. Resolving to attempt to reach a few more minutes of slumber, Buck turned to lower the shades; the light in the whitewashed room was almost unbearable for so early in the morning.

With a start, he realized the shades were already drawn, and the blinds were down as well. Almost no light was coming through the window from the outside. Buck eyed the single lamp on the dresser warily prodding it with one hoof. It was off. But where was the light coming from? He rolled out of bed, all thoughts of extra sleep put out of his mind. The last sheet wrapped around his body was pulled off as he stood up, stretching his massive frame like a cat. Abruptly, the intensity of the light in the room increased to an almost painful level, a silvery sheen seemingly coating the air itself.

Oh. You again.

He looked down to his chest, wincing slightly through the glare. The white crescent moon emblazoned into his hide shone brightly. He rubbed his hoof against it, and to his surprise, the mark felt a shade cooler than his surrounding coat. Buckshot noticed with slight worry that the edges of hair bordering the emblem had grown significantly darker in color. He took a few deep breaths and felt himself relax for the first time that day, and as he did so, the moon's glare waned greatly. Buck's eyebrow shot up. The shining light faded to a dull glow, greatly resembling a dying flashlight bulb.

I can control it?

He forced himself to take even slower breaths, regaining his normal relaxed composure. The moon soon stopped glowing altogether, flickering briefly before extinguishing.

Well... That's one way to wake up, I suppose.

Buckshot grabbed one one of the few articles of clothing he owned, a threadbare towel from Sweet Apple Acres, and wrapped it around his bare neck, covering up the mark. He opened the door to his bedroom, only to find Ragdoll standing in the portcullis, a hoof raised as if she had been just about to knock.

"Dobroe utro, comrade." She spoke in her odd, lilting voice, now tinged with concern. "I was coming to check up on you. That sound you make... It not seem good." She shuddered slightly, cat-eyes half closing with the memory. "You are well now, da?"

Buckshot was a little touched by her concern. "Struth, Rags, I'm not sure what happened. Musta been a nightmare or somethin' of the like."

Ragdoll's ear twitched. "As you say. Do you not have a meeting with Obsidian in little bit?"

"Aye, I'm meetin' him by Sugarcube Corner once the sun clears the horizon."

"When you see him, tell him I say hi. Ponimat?"

Buck nodded. "Will do." Ragdoll returned the gesture and padded down the stairs on silent hooves, the tip of her bushy brown tail flicking side to side. Buck proceeded to trot across the circular library room to a door on the opposite side. Rust had shown him this earlier; his own private bathroom. After relieving himself of the usual morning buildup, he fired up a hot shower. While the water heated up, Buck planted his hooves onto the sink and looked in the mirror. The stallion staring back at him gave a slight smile. He laughed.

"Well, g'day ta you too, mate!"

Now unreasonably cheerful despite his rather eventful awakening, Buckshot hopped into the shower. He didn't move at first, simply standing in the hot water as it cascaded down around him. He savored the sensation as it ran off his massive head and splattered onto his powerful shoulders. Buck absentmindedly focused on a particular shower tile as he blew some wet mane out of his eyes. The water was very hot; almost scalding, but the stallion didnt seem to mind. Rather, he reflected on how different things were now.

In his day, running water itself was something of a luxury. His had been one of the first houses to receive it. Buck remembered that day well, as he was the one who'd dug the ground up for the piping to be laid. It had been backbreaking labor, but the reward had been worth it. Fresh, clean water for his family to do whatever they wished with. He smiled as he remembered how thrilled his wife had been once the pipes were running. They had "broken in" the new shower that night. Thoroughly.

Oy! Stop thinkin' bout that! She's dead and gone.

The salt content of the water running down the drain increased briefly. Buck was glad his face was already wet, he never liked how tears felt. Images of his wife flashed in his mind's eye.

No. I can't keep doin' this. She's gone, aye, but that doesn't mean I should forget her. What was it Rust had said? 'Don't mourn them, remember them fondly.'

Upon reaching this resolution, Buckshot let out a snort and began vigorously cleaning himself. The employer of the railyard might be one to judge on appearances, and he was never one to disappoint when somepony was counting on him.

Obsidian trotted slowly down the road, savoring the cold winter air. He'd been born up north, in the distant mining town of Steelshod, on the other side of the mountain range that made up Equestria's northern border. It wasn't often he got to experience weather like this; the Princesses usually scheduled mild winters with little snowfall. The brisk, chilly morning brought back a mild pang of nostalgia as he remembered his hometown. Obsidian blew a hot jet of steam from his coal-black muzzle. For some reason, there was something satisfying about doing that for him; it reminded him of the mighty blasts of smoke that came from the trains he pulled from time to time.

Obsidian had come down from the mountains roughly a decade ago, after a collapse in the main mineshaft at the Steelshod mine had rendered the facility unable to operate. He'd spent most of his adult life hitched to the small rail carts in the mine, hauling mounds of rubble to the surface. He'd never minded the work, in fact, he enjoyed the physical toll it took on him. It had molded him into the dark mountain of solid muscle he was today. There had been a few times when he'd been ahead of schedule, so instead of finishing up his quota early, he'd simply leaned against the tunnel wall and read a few pages from one of the many books he read.

Sometimes he had been mistaken for the "dumb ox" kind of pony. This could not be farther from the truth. While growing up, Obsidian had been best friends with the daughter of Steelshod's town librarian. He could recall the vast amount of time he'd spent in the library with her, building forts out of books and then slowly destroying them from the inside out by taking out books from the walls they'd made and reading through their fortress of knowledge. Eventually, the forts had collapsed onto the pair, so they'd simply take out another bundle from the shelf to begin anew, giggling all the while. Obsidian had learned much from his childhood friend, and despite his appearance and line of work, was actually quite knowledgeable, provided he was in the mood to show it.

As he turned around the side of Sugarcube Corner, he entered the small square, complete with a small (but frozen) fountain capped with a Seapony figurehead.

"'Bout time ya showed up, I was beginnin' ta think you'd gotten lost in the bush somewhere." Came Buck's oddly accented voice. Obsidian noticed him leaning against Sugarcube Corner, his hat and bandanna seemingly freshly cleaned, the weights around his hind legs practically sparkling. Buck held out a muffin with one hoof. It was steaming warm. "Here. I take it you aren't a morning pony."

Obsidian snorted, but accepted the gift. "Ach, I never liked it. Sorry for the wait, I like to take my time, you know?"

"Aye, I know a lot more about time than you'd think," he said cryptically. Obsidian shrugged. This guy suddenly reminded him of that strange stallion who lived across town in that blue box. He was always going on about time. What was his name again? Doctor... something.

"Come on, then, railyard's this way." Obsidian tossed the muffin into his mouth and headed out of the square, due south. Buckshot joined him on his side, walking slightly behind. The two massive stallions marched together, eventually falling into the same rythym. They said nothing on the way, simply letting the clack of hooves on the cobblestones do the talking for them. After roughly ten minutes or so of trotting, Obsidian hooked a right onto Manesburough Blvd., the road that ran alongside the railroad tracks into town.

Buck noticed the tracks. "What are those, mate?"

Obsidian looked at him blankly. How could a pony not know what railroad tracks were in this day and age? "That's for the trains."

Buck's eyebrow rose, silently asking the question for him. Obsidian continued. "Trains are like big metal carts that run on the tracks instead of the ground. There are often multiple wooden carts attached to the train itself. These smaller carts hold passengers, freight, you name it. These go behind the train as it pulls them."

"So the metal cart is powered somehow?"

Obsidian's ear twitched. "Used to be. The trains used to run on magic, but there was an accident a while back where a train ran into a landslide and nopony could stop it. Nowadays, we use teams of ponies," he slugged Buck on the shoulder. "Like us, to pull it so we can stop the train if need be."

"So what's the metal part for then? Why don't we just pull the wooden carts?"

"That part is used nowadays to give power to the train. It takes in the energy of the rolling wheels as we pull it, and magically converts that energy into power for the train's utilities, like lighting, water, that kind of thing."

The dark teal stallion scratched his head. "Oh. I guess that makes sense."

Obsidian laughed. "Come on, you'll see when we get there!"

Buckshot stood on the packed gravel of the railyard, his tail hanging limply behind him. His eyes were wide and fixed dead straight ahead, filled with awe and wonder. He turned to Obsidian, who was standing beside him, resisting the urge to laugh at his fellow giant's foal-like wonder. "So... that's a train, mate?"

"One of many." Obsidian trotted up to the object of Buck's amazement and fondly layed a hoof on it. The monstrous metal megalith towered over the two, all shiny wheels and freshly bronzed tubing. The construction was long and shaped like a cylinder, somewhat like a black tube sticking out of a squat box at the rear. The box part had windows in it, so Buck assumed that's where the engineers rode in. There was a line of metal plating lining the side of the tube, painted a bright shining orange with red highlights. The massive black unicorn continued, his voice showing pride. "This here is the Southern Equestrian Engine No. 4449, but we here at the yard like to call her 'The Daylight'."

Buck cautiously approached the engine, sensing the power it could make. "She's beautiful, mate." He reached out a hoof to touch it.

"Hooves off, buddy." Obsidian slapped his hoof away none too gently. "She's my girl. I've pulled The Daylight from here to Elder Mare's Cape, and only me and her crew are even allowed to so much as think about her. You'll probably be assigned to a different engine, one that isn't as critical to the work here at the yard. The Daylight hauls all the important loads, like expensive goods and those snooty rich ponies from Canterlot. Hay, we're even taking Princess Luna to Ponyville in this thing."

"Princess Luna's riding here on this train?"

"Yes, and my crew and I are going to be the ones pulling her," Obsidian said proudly, his already enormous chest puffing out to ridiculous proportions.

Buck chuckled at his friend's inflated ego. "I'm sure she'll appreciate that, mate."

"How would you know? It's not like you've met her or anything," Obsidian gave him an incredulous look, before realizing his error. "Ohhh, right, I forgot... You're a clopping knight!" He laughed heartily. "In that case, I'll take your word for it and spread it on to the others! Now come on, we need to see the forepony about getting you a job here, Sir Buck," he added teasingly.

Whistler held the her clipboard in front of her with one, mottled grey and white hoof. The forepony of Ponyville Railyard, she'd been working here so long that her original coat color was buried under a permanent smoke stain. Her brown eyes looked down the list as she called out the names printed. "Easy Peasy!" she barked out in a commanding voice. The announced member of the list replied back.

"Here, ma'am!"

She moved down a name, adjusting the train engineer's hat worn on her head unconsciously. "Lickety Split!"

"Present!"

"Runningwind!"

"Present, ma'am."

"South Star!"

There was a muffled scuffling for a few seconds, then the voice rang out. "Right here, ma'am!"

"Obsidian Tempest!"

"Present."

She eyed the dark unicorn carefully. "No slacking off today, you hear me, colt?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Good. That's The Daylight taken care of. You five will be taking her out on a tourist run from Stableton around the red line to Pasture. Be there at nine 'o clock." She glared at Obsidian, who innocently pointed to himself as if to say who, me?. "Sharp," she added. The selected ponies trotetd off in the direction of their engine. Whistler was about to turn around to head back to the office when an unfamiliar voice rang out.

"'Scuse me, sheila, but I need to speak with ya."

Whistler eyed the last pony left standing in front of her. He was probably around the size of that giant from Sweet Apple Acres, Big Macintosh. Judging by the hat and bandanna getup, he was probably related to him. The stallion adjusted his hooves nervously, revealing a flash of metal as she caught sight of two weight bands strapped to each of his dark teal hind legs. "What's your name, big guy?"

His voice was heavily accented; it sounded like Austailian to her. "Name's Buck Apple. I'm here lookin' for a job, and I was told you'd be the one ta see for that."

Whistler gave him a once over. He was big, but tipped slightly more toward the lean side on muscle mass, with the exception of his ridiculously strong-looking back legs. Those weights of his must weigh a ton. He held her stare evenly through heavily lidded eyes that gave him a slight look of boredom. She nodded brusquely. "All right. Come with me." She turned around and headed for the freight yard, not bothering to look and see if he had began to follow. The sound of large hooves crunching on gravel confirmed that he had.

After a few minutes, she stopped in front of an old, rusty hopper that was filled with a very dense form of dried out cement. A few worn out looking harnesses dangled from a cross brace welded to one end. The ponies around the yard used it for training, be it for endurance as a group, or individually attempting to move the heavy hopper. Scrawled on the side in blue spray paint, somepony had wittingly written, "Old Mercy". Whistler turned to the giant and motioned to the scrap heap. "You know how to pull, Buck?"

He nodded. "You could say that."

She snorted. He sounded way too cocky for his own good. "See that clump of weeds down the track?" She pointed a smoke-stained hoof at the particular patch of green, roughly a hundred yards down the line. "Move "Old Mercy" here to it, and I'll give you a full time job at one of our engines."

Buck looked at her with a small amount of disbelief in his ocean eyes. "That's it?"

"That's it." Whistler resisted the urge to grin. This was one of her favorite tricks to play on the newbies that showed up here. It took a team of at least four strong ponies to move this bucket of bolts an inch, let alone a hundred yards. Truth be told, she never actually bothered to see how far the potential employees had moved it. She just wanted to see for how long they'd keep at it. An important trait of a train-puller is perseverance. Her ponies often had to travel long distances for even longer periods of time. No quitters allowed.

The dark teal stallion simply shrugged and trotted up to the far end of the car, on the opposite sides of the harnesses. Whistler raised her eyebrows. What was this crazy foal up to? Her questions were answered when an almighty BOOM rang out, seemingly shaking the heavens themselves. "Old Mercy" shot forward like a rusty rocket, somehow accelerating blindingly fast for an object so large and heavy. The old hopper's wheels screeched like nails on a chalkboard as they spun faster for the first time in years. Abruptly, the friction between the wheels and the rail came to a head, and flames shot up from the bearings. As the hopper roared by her, Whistler saw the stallion pressed headfirst against the back end, growling like a diesel engine as he seemingly effortlessly pushed the now-flaming behemoth forward. Farther down the track, she saw his dark teal form suddenly flash out and around the screeching hopper. Another groundshaking BOOM was heard as the car screamed to a halt, coming to a jerking stop right at the clump of weeds.

Whistler blinked. The entire process had taken less than eight seconds.

"Oy! How'd I do?" The stallion's distant cry reached her ears.

Whistler blinked again. The hopper had been weighed once, coming in at roughly ten tons. He had moved it one hundred yards in the blink of an eye. She pinched herself to check if she wasn't dreaming. Nope. She was awake. She looked down at the tracks, which were still smoking heavily from the violent movement of the hopper. She looked back at Buck, who was standing to the side of the hopper off in the distance, waving his hat around cheerfully. Whistler pinched herself again. Still awake. She took a shaky breath collected herself.

After a minute or so she had somewhat regained her gruff exterior. She finally yelled back. "You're hired! Now get your flank in gear, you've got some work to do!"

Royal Pain in the Plot

Princess Celestia furrowed her brow, concentrating on the battlefield spread out before her. The enemy, emblazoned with dark colors and the emblem of the Night, a silver crescent moon, held their positions for the moment as they waited for the Sun Princess to make her next move. Celestia chewed her lower lip worriedly. The enemy had her trapped like a ship in a bottle. All her cavalry had been lost early on in the struggle, quickly stonewalled and then methodically crushed underhoof by a joint counterattack from the enemy infantry and cavalry. Once Celestia's mobile forces had been destroyed, the enemy magi had sliced diagonally across her ranks, effectively cutting off her access to the two fortifications on either end of her side of the battlefield. The opposing infantry had then risen in a single massive swell and had gained much ground, forcing her to retreat a bit and cutting off her maneuverability in the rear, pinned against a cliff edge as she was. Celestia raised her head up from the field to look the opposing commander in the eye. An almost reptilian pair of irises gazed back steadily, filled with a cold confidence and intelligence.

Nightmare Moon idly flicked her ethereal mane this way and that, like a scorpion positioning its tail for the final blow. "Please, dearest sister, why must you prolong the inevitable?"

Celestia calmly spat back, "Your inevitable defeat, maybe."

"Oh, how you wound us." The armored alicorn chuckled darkly from across the battlefield. "My sympathies go out to your fallen brethren, but we must digress - you cannot keep this up forever."

"Actually, I can. Being a goddess does have some advantages, you know," Celestia bluffed, stalling for time as her ancient mind raced for a possible path to victory. Her heart sank as she realized there was none; Nightmare Moon was poised to assault her commanding officers in one fell swoop. There was nothing she could do at this point.

Her sister blinked slowly, before shaking her head. "You would use the immortality-card, 'Tia, despite it's obvious drawback." She smiled wolfishly, pulling back midnight lips to reveal a mouth full of serrated teeth. "We can do this forever as well."

Celestia returned her gaze to the massacre about to take place right in front of her, a small amount of panic creeping into her usually placid features. "So what now, Nightmare Moon? Are we to be to eternal foes, locked in battle until judgement day and the world's ending?"

Nightmare Moon snorted with amusement. "That, or you could just surrender."

"Never," Celestia growled.

The Dark Queen of the Night casually shrugged in a laissez faire guesture. "So be it." Her long, black horn shone with a midnight aura, and one of her two remaining cavalry moved into striking distance. Celestia gulped. There was no way out. This was where it ended, after all these years of rule, finally, finally, she would be toppled from her perch... of Equestria's greatest chess player.

Nightmare Moon reached a hoof over the battlefield and flicked over the king piece. She leaned back and smiled smugly. "Checkmate."

Celestia bowed her head in submission to the victor. "Do I have to say it?"

"Yes." The reply was smooth and silky, an evident pleasure at her discomfort rang clearly Celestia's ears.

Celestia let out a sigh, before speaking out in her rarely used Royal Canterlot Voice. "I, Princess Celestia, Ruler of Equestria and Shepherd of the Sun, hereby decree that... I... That I smell like dragon dung."

"Aaaaaaannd?" NIghtmare Moon's eyes glittered with malice.

Celestia shot her a look of pure venom. "And that Princess Luna does not suck at chess."

A lightish-blue smoke began to swirl around the other alicorn like a miniature tornado, eventually swallowing her dark armored figure whole. There was a bright flash of light, and the tornado abruptly dissapeared, to reveal the smiling features of Princess Luna. She clapped her hooves together excitedly and let out a girlish noise of excitement. "Oh, 'Tia that was so much fun! Thank you so much for playing with us!"

After learning to how to control the transformation into her spiteful alter-ego, Luna had occasionally used it's boons to her advantage. Being Nightmare Moon gave her unprecedented amounts of power, tactical skill, confidence, and not to mention every stallion in the castle had been caught staring at her flank at one time or another. Secretly, she rather enjoyed that last part.

Celestia rubbed her hoof to her temple, trying not to listen to the snickers and chortles coming from spectators. "I am so going to get you back for this."

Luna's horn lit up and all her black chess pieces reassembled themselves back in their appropriate starting positions. She reached around her back and picked up an abacus, fondly rearranging some of the beads on it's strings. "Please. By our calculations you had no chance at all."

The smoke sharply emitted from Celestia's nostrils was from the ozone itself being vaporized with the pure energy of her snort of vexation. "It's not my fault I didn't know you'd gotten so good at chess. You spend all your time in the library, I never get to see you." The Sun Goddess pouted. "I wish you would spend some more time outside. That trip to Ponyville will do you some good. After all," she winked slyly. "If memory serves, a certain knight will be there, undoubtedly happy to see you."

Princess Luna turned her nose up. "We and Abacus need no company from the stuck up nobles here at the palace, so we will gladly welcome the change of scenery."

Celestia giggled. "Abacus? You named it?"

Luna bashfully stroked the outdated mathermatical instrument in her hooves. It had served her well in the recent days. "...Maybe."

"Well then, I'll be sure to tell Sir Apple that he has some competition!"

"...Shut up, 'Tia."

"Hey, Uncle Buckshot?"

Buck paused at the entrance to the hallway. Her turned his great head around to peer back into the dark bedroom. Apple Bloom's shape could barely be seen, snuggled up deep into her bed. Her pink bandanna, now a staple of her appearance, was folded neatly on the bedside table.

A few days had passed since he'd landed the job at the Ponyville Railyard. Since that time, he'd been able to bring the place completely up on track with its orders, thanks to his seemingly legendary strength allowing him to move entire sections of cars to and fro in the yard. In the little time he'd been working, he had been doing so as a shunter, sorting the cars and placing them in front of the station for the ponies pulling the train. He hadn't actually pulled a train yet, but Whistler had been so pleased with his work that she'd promised him he'd be on one after he took a celebratory day off (and a pay raise, to boot). Buck had decided to spend his free day with the Apples down on the farm, and after giving them the good news, they had insisted on celebrating his new found success by having him over for dinner. After much feasting on all kinds of country delicacies, Buck had taken Apple Bloom upstairs to bed, as she had eaten far too much and had been nodding asleep at the table.

"What's on your mind, Bloomie?"

Apple Bloom's voice was hopeful. "Do ya think ya could tell me a story tonight?"

Buck thought for a moment. "Righto," he accepted and sat down on the edge of Apple Bloom's bed. "What would you like to hear?"

Apple Bloom burrowed under the covers even further, so only the top of her adorable face was sticking out. "Ah'd like ta know the story of how ya got yer Cutie Mark, please."

Buck flinched slightly, as if he had been hit.

Shoulda seen that one comin'...

The memories of that particular day had been burned into his mind. Literally. It wasn't often a volcano erupted in Equestria, and a cataclysm like that happening in one's back yard, destroying one's home, and killing one's parents tended to prove memorable. While the act of getting his mark had been acheived through desperation, Buck had to admit that his special talent had been realized on that day. Looking out for his family truly was how he defined himself.

Then again... I guess that wasn't the only good thing to happen that day.

Buck smiled broadly as he remembered meeting his best friend on the day of the eruption.

"How 'bout I hit ya with a double dose, Bloomie?"

"What's that, Uncle Buck?"

"A two-for-one deal. I've got two... No, scratch that. I've got three stories to tell about how it happened, because they are just so intertwined."

Apple Blooms face lit up with excitement. "Three? What are they?"

Buck scratched his chin with a hoof. "Number one is how I got my cutie mark," he said, gesturing to the horseshoe and apple mark on his dark teal flank. "Number two is how I met the best friend I ever made." He paused, and slowly rotated the yellow bandanna around his neck. "And number three is how that friend gave me this." The silver moon on his chest was revealed to the filly, softly glowing in the darkness.

Apple Bloom's eyes grew ridiculously huge. "Is that... Is that another Cutie Mark?" she gasped.

He chuckled. "Struth, I've got no idea what it is, to be honest. But, I can tell you how I got it. Let's start at the beginning of story number one, shall we?"

Apple Bloom nodded and leaned back into her pillow ready to listen to the ancient knight's tale.

The Day of Black Sun

Crab Apple stood perfectly still, slack-jawed in astonishment. The burgundy coated stallion barely felt the scorching summer sun boring into the back of his neck, such was his condition. Crab looked at his son, and then looked to the gaping hole that had formerly been a tree stump the diameter of a small minivan. He scratched his magnificent sideburns in wonder, trying to make sense of the scene before him. The shattered remains of the where the stump had been rooted in were smoking slightly, as though the fissure that was torn from the ground not ten seconds ago had simply vaporized the stump out of existence. Crab turned his gaze once again back to his son, who was standing next to the crater with a grin of pure delight on his face. He had asked to take care of the troublesome stump for his father, so that the family might have room to plant some more onions this season. Crab had expected him to dig the blasted thing up somehow, not outright yank it out of the ground with one solid heave.

Buck was the oldest of his offspring, as well as the only one left. Crab had had another foal with his wife, Kanga Roo, but she had died while she was very young, passing away in the night due to some terminal illness. Buck himself had been a young colt at the time, and barely remembered her. Crab gave his son a once over, attempting to discern the secret of the young stallion's feat. Buck was big, he'd give him that, but he had yet to fill out his adult frame, only recently having a set of growth spurts that signaled the end of his adolescence. Despite eating phenomenal amounts of food, typical of ponies his age, that had seemed to fail to put any meat on his bones. Kanga often compared her son to a ravenous pack of dingos. "No matter how much food ya give 'em, they always come back ta swipe whatever vittles ya have left," she often said, drawing a distinct parallel between the two subjects.

Crab shook his head in resignation. "All right, I give. How didja do it, sonny?"

His lanky offspring modestly brushed a hoof over his bare chest. "Trade secret. Sorry, Pops."

The elder Apple cracked a rugged grin. "Maybe this 'secret' 'o yours will finally getcha that cutie mark, eh?"

Buck glanced at the bare dark teal coat of his flank, and sighed wistfully. "I hope so. I'm tired of bein' the only one in town without one, and at the age of nineteen, no less." He snorted in frustration. "I'll be older than you by the time I get it."

Crab Apple laughed and brushed off the joke on his age, knowing his colt meant no harm in the jest. He might be getting on in his years, but he was still one of the fittest stallions in Stable. But now he was certainly not the strongest. "I'm proud of you, colt. It was a good thing we gotcha fitted for those leg weights, eh? Next you'll be moving mountains!"

His son nodded and self consciously shuffled his back legs, letting the heavy weights clack together. A few months ago, after accidentally shattering the kitchen door with one hoof, his father had taken him to the local blacksmith, a unicorn, and fitted him with the weights. The blacksmith had cast an enchantment on them that allowed the metal to increase in density depending on the wearer's strength. In this way, no matter how powerful Buck's leg's got, he'd always have the right amount of force to dampen the motion of them, ensuring that he'd no longer be accidentally destroying his home.

Apparently they didn't bother him that much, considering the gaping trench sitting on the place of Crab's future onion garden. Crab nodded his head back at the ramshackle cottage he'd built with his own two hooves. "Why don'tcha take a breather, sonny. I'll handle cartin' the stump for a while." He brushed away his colt's protests with a wave of his hoof. "You just did a job that would take me a whole day in a second. I think you've earned a little reward," he stomped one of his burgundy hooves into the ground for emphasis, sending up a small cloud of dust. "Now scoot!"

Buck sighed and plodded towards the cottage. Arguing was useless when his father had his mind made up. Nothing short of a natural disaster would ever make his father budge even an inch.

Ironically, that's exactly what happened next.

"Your papa sounds a lot like you, Uncle Buck," said Apple Bloom thoughtfully. All thoughts of sleep had been put out of the filly's head as she listened with rapt attention.

Buck chuckled and ruffled her mane. "Eeyup. Reminds me of somepony else I know who's got a stubborn streak a mile wide."

Apple Bloom put on a fearsome scowl, or at least tried to. "Ah hope yer not talkin' bout little ole me, now, right?"

"That depends, what are you gonna do about it?"

She pondered this for a moment. A mischievous gleam crept into her eyes as an idea took root. Abruptly, she exploded out out from under the covers and tackled her uncle, knocking him on his side and pinning him onto the bed. "Tickle fight!" she cried out with glee. Apple Bloom shoved her hooves into Buck's side and began tickling him furiously. He roared with laughter and attempted to get up, but was held firmly in place by his niece's merciless onslaught.

"Hahaha! Hoho-hoooo! Stop it, Bloomie! Ah!" He gave a very un-stallionlike yelp as Apple Bloom dug her hooves in for the kill. "All right, all right, I give!" Apple Bloom ceased her tickling and struck a heroic pose standing atop her uncle's still giggling body.

Buck reared up and flung her off him. She landed neatly back under the covers, the fierce fire of victory shining in her face. "You win this round," Buck muttered darkly.

"Ah win every round."

He chuckled, still trying to catch his breath after his fit of laughing. "See? Stubborn. Now... Where was I?"

Buck was sitting at the kitchen table, a glass of water in his hoof. His mother sat across the kitchen table from him repairing a worn out blanket, her root-beer eyes intently focused on restitching the intricate designs with a needle she held with her magic. Kanga Roo was a compact, yet slim, tan unicorn mare with a brown mane knotted into cornrows. Her body was laced with peculiar golden stripes, a trait that the aboriginal pony tribes who lived deep in the interior outback of Austailia seemed to share.

She'd met her husband while out foraging one day. He was a hopelessly lost, windswept wreck from the coast, covered in the reddish dust that was common around the outback. She could tell he hadn't drank or eaten for days, at least. After taking back to her tribe's camp, they'd nursed him back to health over the course of a few weeks. In return, Crab had shown the tribe how to farm the harsh, arid soil of their territory. He'd left the camp with Kanga, whom he had fallen in love with during his stay. The rest was history.

Kanga lifted her head up from the blanket abruptly, the golden glow of her magic fading as she lost concentration. "Did you feel that, Bucky?" She asked. Buck shook his head. His mother had truly grown up as one with the land, and as a result carried a unique connection to it. She could sense a change in the wind before it happened, and accurately predict the amount of rain that would fall during any given storm. The fact that she was noticing something that he wasn't was a common occurrence.

"What's up, Mum?"

She hopped off her chair and stood up, bending her knees slightly. Kanga frowned. "Somethin's not right with the earth. It feels..." she shuffled around to look Buck in the eye. "Angry."

Buck raised an eyebrow worriedly. As cryptic as she could be, his mum was almost always right about this sort of thing. "What's got it ticked off?"

"I'm not sure. There might be..." She trailed off. Her eyes zeroed in on the glass of water her son held in his hoof. "Buck. Put the glass on the table."

He complied and inspected the glass carefully. Nothing seemed wrong with it, apart from a small bit of soapscum lining the bottom of the outside. But... wait a moment. Was the water inside trembling?

"is it just me, or does the water look like it's-" he started.

"-It is," Kanga finished for him.

The water in the glass began to shudder violently. A deep, baritone vibration, just bordering on the edge of hearing, echoed in both ponies' ears. The shaking of the water suddenly spread to the glass, and the the table began to buzz as well. The entire kitchen began to tremble a bit. Dishes stacked up in the sink wobbled precariously. A vase containing a few flowers shattered as it fell off a shelf. Then, as quickly as it began, the movement stopped. The pair let out a breath as one. Neither realized they'd been holding the air in.

"Was that an earthquake?" Buck mused.

"I don't think so." Kanga shook her head slowly. "Or if it was, it was no ordinary-" She was cut off as Crab Apple burst through the back door, his eyes wide with fear.

"Mt. Stable's gonna blow." That was all he said, yet the effect was instantaneous. Both mother and son rushed to the kitchen window and looked outside. There, directly behind their backyard, stood the impressive monolith that towered several thousand feet above the surrounding countryside. A staggering amount of smoke was pouring out from the just behind the peak.

Buck looked at the unfolding calamity and closed his heavy-lidded eyes. "Well, this bites." That statement pretty much summed up the general feeling in the room.

The floor beneath the three suddenly gave a mighty lurch, and all but Kanga remained standing. The rumbling in the ground resumed in full force, and several dishes skid out of kitchen cabinets, shattering where they fell. Buck's leg weights cracked the floorboards where he slammed down. Kanga bent down and hauled her husband to his hooves by the scuff of his mane. Crab shot his wife a look of thanks before speaking up again. "We nedd to hunker down somewhere safe," he paused and frantically looked around. "Wait! The basement! It's perfect!" He turned to his wife and colt. "Buck, I need you to round up the others and gather them there. Kanga, I need your help clearin' some space for everypony. It's tight quarters down there."

Both ponies nodded in agreement. Kanga trotted out of the room towards the entrance to the basement, Crab close on her hooves. Before he exited the room, he turned back to Buck. "Be careful," He said in a pained voice. "I already lost one foal, and I'm not gonna lose another. Come back in one piece, ya hear?"

"I can't say that, but I'll promise ya that the rest make it."

Crab nodded. That was about as good as a promise as he'd get. Buck had a wise habit of only making promises he could keep. "Good." He let out a long shuddering breath, and left the kitchen.

Buck raced out the back door. Stable Mountain was visibly shaking now, the great plumes of smog and smoke spewing from the peak laced with the red glow of fire. Buck gritted his teeth to keep them from chattering. The ground sent a strange tingly sensation up his hooves as his whole body shook with the eruption. He glared up at the mountain. "WHO THE CLOP NAMED YOU 'STABLE', EH? STABLE MY FAT FLANK!" He roared. The mountain groaned in reply, and a massive explosion sounded as the peak suddenly blew apart. Huge chunks of debris flew as far as twenty miles away. A particular slab of mountainside blotted out the sun before thundering downwards, carving out an enormous crater in the cabbage field, not thirty feet from where Buck was standing.

The lanky stallion flew backward as the shock wave from the impact sent a ripple of energy outward. He landed onto the packed dirt with a thud . Buck let out a groan as he picked himself up, his head ringing. The jolt had addled his head; everything was spinning around now. "Well played, mountain," he slurred. The stallion shook his great head from side to side rapidly, clearing out the disorganized mess that had been his thought process.

Buck took off due south-east, following a well worn track that took him around the main crop fields to another cottage located on the far end of the farm. The Apples used this as a sort of a guest house for the few times they had company, and it doubly served as a space for the hired help and the Apple's kin. There were a few ponies from town that lived here full time, in addition to the two or three distant cousins that called the place home as well.

Crashing through the front door, he could see how the eruption was affecting other places. A thin layer of dust coated everything, having been shaken down by the constant vibration. Several windows were spider-webbed with minute cracks. Others had been shattered completely. Buck took a deep breath and roared out into the cottage, "Everypony get to the main house's basement on the double!" A door opening at the end of the entrance hallway, followed by the sudden motion of several ponies told him that they'd heard his message. He wheeled around and stood outside the guest house, occasionally fighting to keep his balance due to the irregular lurches of the ground. A rock whipped by his head, smashing into the dirt with a terrific whump, no doubt launched from the thundering monster looming above.

Another quick glance at the mountain told him that time was running out. Large sections of the mountain side had collapsed, and the sheer energy from the great plumes of fire leaking out from the gaps in the slope almost hurt his eyes, despite the distance. Squinting to avoid their glare, he glanced upwards at the billowing stack of smog that had risen several thousand feet by this time. He noticed two faint pinpricks of motion, circling the column. They rapidly approached the town, rocketing downwards at an incredible speed. Buck could make them out; one was a whitish thing with some kind of colorful streaking around it. The other was a midnight blue, accompanied by a strange black coloration. The two shapes whizzed overhead, and Buck caught sight of elegant wings extended in flight. Both objects headed off towards the town, soon lost to view.

A voice at his side broke his concentration. "Were those Pegasi?"

Buck turned his head to see the others standing behind him, gazes raised to the direction of town. Clearly they'd seen the anomaly too. He resolved to ponder the sighting at a more appropriate time, one that did not involve a possible death by falling debris and fire. "I dunno, mates, but we've gotta go. Pops and Mum are already in the basement. Come on, then!" Buck pointed towards the main cottage. "Move it!" he barked. The group set off towards the house at a gallop, occasionally darting out of the way of a piece of smaller debris coming down from the eruption. Buck took up the rearguard position, carefully following the group to make sure there were no stragglers.

Another large section of mountainside slammed into the earth to his right, knocking everyone off their hooves. A shrill yelp from up ahead told that somepony was injured. Buck forced himself back to his hooves and coughed out some dust thrown up by the collision. His eyes stung, he could barely see anything now. He caught up with the group to find them gathered around one of the hired help, who was lying on the ground with one leg awkwardly extended. It was clearly broken. One of the group turned to him, but Buck couldn't see who because of the veil of dust in the air. "We need to get her in! Can you carry her?" the voice said.

"Aye," without hesitation, he bent down and scooped up the crippled mare onto his back. The others voiced their thanks and carried onwards, heads bent down low to the ground to see where they were going. They followed the dirt path without any other incidents and arrived at the house more or less in one piece. Once through the back door, they stormed through the hallways towards the basement. Buck couldn't help but notice that there were several hairline cracks appearing on the walls. The group burst down into the cellar, which had been hurriedly cleared out by Crab and Kanga.

The cellar had a surprisingly high ceiling, allowing most of the barrels and out-of-season farm equipment to be easily piled in one corner of the room. A few candles had been lit at various points in the room. The lights constantly shivered from the ever present rumbling. Buck gently set the crippled mare on the ground. She winced as she touched the stone floor of the basement, but did not cry out. Buck realized this must be one of the hired help from the village. He realized he did not even know her name.

"Scuze me, ma'am. Are you gonna be all right?" he asked her softly.

The mare sneezed some dust out of her nose. "Yes. Thank you. I would have been left behind if you weren't there."

Buck scratched the back of his neck bashfully. "Shucks, I'm sure somepony else would have carried you."

"It doesn't matter. You're a hero in my eyes."

"Just doin' the right thing, ma'am." Buck tried not to blush under the praise. Ordinary acts of kindness did not qualify for that kind of status. Anypony else would have done the same thing if they had been in his hooves.

Once everypony had assembled, Crab and Kanga gave roll call. After all had been accounted for, water and rations were passed out to the group. They ate silently, brooding in the dim light of the cellar as the steady rumbling gradually became worse. Buck wasn't sure how much time passed in this manner, as nopony had brought any kind of timekeeping device down with them.

The dark tranquility of the basement was suddenly interrupted when a truly colossal impact shook the house literally to its foundations. The cellar cracked and split into several chunks, dirt pouring in from gaps in the walls. The ceiling opened up in several places, and debris from the floors above poured down into the basement like a title wave. Eventually, the ebb stopped, but only after a significant amount of the basement was covered.

Buck groaned as he once again picked himself off the floor for what seemed the thousandth time that day. He coughed several times and wiped his hooves over his eyes to clear some of the dust the impact had stirred up. He glanced up at the ceiling and found it rent in several places; in fact, he could see faint, smoky daylight streaming in through some of the gaps. It seemed to sag inwards, as if there were some great weight pressing down from where the house stood above. Buck had serious doubts that the house was even standing above-ground. He guessed that another falling rock had probably scored a direct hit on the house.

"Sonny!" a weak, muffled voice called from the far corner of the room, where most of the debris had come down. Buck waded through the debris like an icebreaker, occasionally stopping to pull a half buried pony out of the wreckage.

"Da?! 'Sat you?"

A sarcastic reply came from under the largest section of the collapse, although it was faint and laced with pain. "No, ya bloomin' dinkhead, it's the princess! Who do ya think it is?"

Buck tried to get through the pile, but more debris spilled down to fill the gaps he created. Beginning to panic, he furiously attempted to carve his way through the pile, to no avail. "Da! I can't dig you out!" He scooped up hoofful after hooffull, but it was like trying to carry water in a bucket with no bottom.

His father's voice fell a few notches in volume. It sounded like he was struggling for breath. "'Sall right, Bucky... Get the others outta here!"

Buck froze, realizing what that entailed. "But... Da, I can't leave ya behind!"

"I can't feel my legs, Buck. Me back's broken. Your mother isn't faring any better either," there was a terrible pause. "We ain't goin' anywhere."

It was as if a giant hammer had suddenly come down and squashed the lanky stallion to a pulp. Buck reeled momentarily, trying to take in that information. His parents weren't going to make it. He frantically tried to bite back tears and redoubled his efforts trying to dig them out.

"Bucky! Stop that! You're just causin' more ta fall on me!"

"I can't just leave you!" Buck hoarsely yelled back.

"Ya have ta. Get yourself and everypony else ta safety! This place is gonna come down!" Crab's voice was getting fainter by the second, and he could clearly be heard panting for breath as the pile slowly crushed him alive.

Buck tried to control his breathing, which had become ragged and strained due to the poor quality of the air. "But... But..." he tried protesting again. A small peice of ceiling fell onto the floor to his left.

His father's voice rebounded in volume, seemingly making the ground shake even more than it already was."SO HELP ME CELESTIA, BUCK, IF YA DON'T DO AS I SAY, I'LL COME BACK FROM WHATEVER HELL I'M GOIN' TA AND DRAG YA THERE WITH ME!" he roared. "NOW GO!" Realizing how much that effort that must have cost him, Buck hesitantly obliged, if only to prevent his father from releasing anymore precious air.

In one of the gaps in the ceiling, Buck could see straight up through where his house used to stand. He could see Stable Mountain framed clearly against the smoggy sky. With a gasp, he realized that there was an enormous amount of glowing, hot, lava, quickly pouring down the mountain. It incinerated any trees it came into contact with, and seemingly melted the surface of the mountain itself, warping the slope and increasing it's speed. They needed to get out of here now. Buck turned to where the staircase led up to the first floor, only to see it had collapsed. He growled in frustration. The only way out now was the hatchway.

In the back of the cellar, a small staircase led upwards till it met the hatchway. The hatchway itself was a slab of solid granite, two feet thick and several feet wide, that served as a thief-proof entryway to the underground of the farmhouse, where oftentimes valuable ciders and preservatives were stored. Buck remembered helping to install the thing. It had taken a team of ten ponies just to lift the thing with a complex crane system. It was only ever moved when there was a large quantity of items too big to carry upstairs blocked up the cellar.

And it was the one thing standing between his family and freedom.

Buck called out into the rubble of the basement, "Oy! Is everypony all right? We need to scoot, pronto!"

A muffled assortment of assentments were made that indicated that yes, they were more or less ready to go.

"Somepony carry the lovely mare who broke her leg. I'm gonna bust us outta here."

He waded back through the wreckage to the small staircase and positioned himself backwards on it, his hindquarters aimed right at the slab covering the entrance. The lanky stallion's leg weights clanked together. Buck took a deep breath and reared back on his front hooves, angling his hind legs upward. He let out a grunt and proceeded to let out the hardest kick he'd ever made in his life. He struck for his father. He struck for his mother. He struck for the loss of his home. Most importantly, he struck for the rest of his kin, staring at him with wide eyes.

There was an audible crack as his back hooves broke the sound barrier.

The solid slab of granite shattered immediately, the peices flying upwards and out in an almost nonsensical explosion. The smokey daylight suddenly filtered into the dark basement, hurting Buck's eyes. Buck felt a strange sensation on his flank, but he didn't bother to check it, preferring instead to ignore the feeling. If he was injured, he'd sort that out later. More pressing matters deserved his attention now. He managed to call out to the basement, "Way's open, now clear out!" He stood next to the staircase as the ponies in the basement hauled themselves through the now-open portcullis, somewhat in awe of what they had just seen. The crippled mare, who was draped across the back of an older stallion, mouthed a word of thanks as she went. Buck merely nodded. Once everypony had managed to get outside, Buck turned back to the pile of wreckage in the opposite corner of the room.

"Da!"

There was no reply.

"I just wanted to thank you. For everythin'. You helped shape me into the colt I am today. I don't care if ya can't hear me, either." He wiped a few more tears from his ocean eyes and involuntarily shuddered. "I'll see ya on the other side." He turned and bounded up the stone steps to the outside.

Under the pile of wreckage, Crab Apple smiled, his heart bursting with pride. He struggled around with his remaining strength and embraced his wife's motionless body in the blackness. Side by side they lay, together in the end. Crab let out a ragged breath as his lungs refused to fill up with air. He murmured his final words into his wife's braided mane.

"We'll be waitin' for ya."

Divine Intervention

Stable Mountain gave another mighty roar, and the flume of smoke pouring from the peak was suddenly streaked a bright crimson by an enormous gout of fire shooting several hundred feet into the air. A second rivulet of lava spilled out from the cracked rim of the newly formed crater adorning the top of the volcano, slipping downhill in a glowing tidal wave of molten rock. The town of Stable, nestled below the trembling slope, had little time left. Already some buildings had caught fire, some outright crushed from falling rocks, similar to what had happened to the Apple farm. The sun had been completely obscured by this time, hidden behind a thick veil of black haze extending for miles in every direction. Ironically, the major source of light in this darkened, apocalyptic world were the fires blazing out from the volcano, the very thing that had caused the devastation in the first place. Now, it served as a demonic lighthouse, its glow tinging the air a hellish red.

The group of survivors from the farm made their way into Stable, moving as quick as they could possibly go given the conditions. Several had makeshift rags and the like covering their mouths and face, as to prohibit the breathing in of the foul smog that seemed to hang in the air. Buck's nose wrinkled upwards due to the unpleasant aroma as he trotted along at the back of the group. He thought that it smelled something like a cross between a burning carcass, rotten eggs, and vaporized ozone. He eyed the other ponies with their improvised coverings somewhat jealously. The mare with the broken leg, draped over the back of another stallion from the farm, was traveling in front of him. She eyed his discomfort with some amusement.

"You want something to cover your face?" she asked him, her voice shaking due to the motions of the pony beneath her.

Buck initial reaction was to outright refuse her. However, a sudden intake of a particularly noxious batch of atmosphere that greatly resembled the scent of a burning outhouse caused him to go into a hysterical fit of coughing. The mare giggled softly at this. It was an odd sound, at least in this situation. The last thing anypony would expect during a natural disaster is the sound of laughter, after all. After managing to wheeze out a few clear breaths, he gasped in reply, "Aye. That would be nice."

The mare nodded and proceeded to take off the soot-stained cloth wrapped around her neck, taking it in her teeth and flinging it to Buck. He caught it in his mouth. "Fffwhat about foo?" He mumbled through the cloth.

She laughed again. Buck found that he rather enjoyed it when she did that. The sight of the pretty mare with a smile on her face almost made him forget the hardships he'd been through that day. "I'll be fine, Buck. The smoke isn't bothering me too much."

Buck wrapped the cloth around his neck, examining it. It was a bandanna of some kind, although the original color of it was now completely obscured by the dust and soot in the air. He nodded to the mare in thanks before drawing it over his nose and mouth. His voice was muffled slightly as he spoke through the cloth. "Thankee kindly... Uhm..." He realized he didn't

even know her name.

Her sparkling cyan eyes shone in the dim light. "My name is Leafdapple. It's alright, I worked in the kitchen at the helper's house. I didn't get out that much." She absentmindedly brushed some dust off of her foreleg. Buck could see the deep red of her coat through the gap in the filth. "Anyway, I should be the one thanking you."

Buck shot his eyebrow up in confusion. She was the one breathing in the smog while he used her bandanna. What reason could she possibly have to thank him?

Leafdapple continued, wincing slightly as a small stumble from the pony beneath her shifted her broken leg. "You've saved my life twice now today. It's the least I could do."

"Twice?" Buck could only remember that he picked her up off the ground and carried her to the temporary safety of the farmhouse.

"Once when I was hit by that rock, and again when you broke through that cellar door." She gave him a small smile. "Come to think of it, you saved everypony back there, not just me." Several of the group who were travelling near the two, including the stallion carrying Leafdapple, turned their heads to nod in agreement, murmuring words of thanks.

Buck flinched involuntarily, and turned his gaze away from Leafdapple. "I didn't save all of you," he murmured to himself. The noticeable gap made by the lack of his parents should be evident to the others. He felt that didn't deserve their thanks; he deserved nothing he hadn't earned. Leafdapple, sensing his sudden downturn in spirit, leaned out from her perch on the stallion's back and gave him a peck on the cheek.

Buck was completely dumbstruck. He tripped and fell flat on his face. As he got back up, blushing furiously, he could hear the sound of the pretty red mare laughing once again. He sighed and continued on his way, contemplating how strange this day had been.

The group eventually came to Stable after following the path from the Apple's farm for some time. A steady stream of villagers were heading out of town with them, trotting along the town's main street, which pointed directly away from the volcano, which was still erupting in the background. The destruction even here, although much farther away from the volcano then the farm, was highly evident. Several buildings had collapsed completely. Fires burned on several rooftops despite the best efforts of the local fire brigade. Buck passed a former shop that had been completely crushed by a falling boulder twice the size of a school bus. He shuddered. Hopefully nopony had been in there when it had come down.

There was a sudden rush of air behind him. Buck turned his head to see the two blurs he had spied before, one a whitish color, the other a midnight blue, whip above the town. The blue one peeled off and bolted back toward the mountain, while the white one descended upon the village, contrails streaming out behind it. A hundred or so feet above the ground, it abruptly halted. Buck could make out the sudden movement of powerful white wings moving in a single flap. A massive gust of wind pushed down on him from above. All the rooftop fires were extinguished by the wall of air that blew past. He covered his eyes, suddenly extremely grateful for the raggedy old bandanna Leafdapple had given him, as it protected his nose and mouth from sucking up any more larger particles of soot stirred up by the object's wingbeat. A voice called out, full of confidence and serenity. It would almost have been soothing, if it weren't for the fact that the volume of the words were turned up to incredible levels.

"Citizens of Stable! We, Princess Celestia, hereby order an immediate evacuation! All ponies are to proceed five miles due northeast, where a relief center has been established on the banks of the White Brook Fjord. My sister and ourselves will attempt to quell the eruption, but in the meantime we must ask that everypony must vacate the current zone of danger. ". The Sun Goddess cried out in her rarely used Royal Voice, referring to herself in plural form, as tradition dictated.

Buck was astonished. The Royal Sisters? Here? He glanced back up at the volcano, which was still churning out massive amounts of fire and smoke. The constant trembling of the ground had not ceased one bit. If the Goddess themselves had to come here, then things do not bode well for anypony at all.

Above the town, Princess Celestia flapped again, releasing another concussive downstroke. The force propelled her straight up several hundred feet. With her new altitude, she took off back to the volcano at an unnatural speed.

Apple Bloom sat next to Buck on the bed. They were both staring at the night sky through her bedroom window. The cosmos were ablaze with pinpricks of light. A few thin wisps of clouds scattered across the upper stratosphere absorbed the moonlight like sponges, glowing a bright silver around the edges, turning a shadowy blue towards the center. The moon itself was in full glory, the entire circumference giving off almost as much light as the sun.

Apple Bloom turned to her uncle, who had fallen silent for a time, lost in memory of ancient days. His eyes were locked onto the universe spread out before them, and she could see the starlight reflecting off his ocean eyes. Apple Bloom wondered what was going through his mind. He had rarely opened up to anypony about his past like this. Not even Applejack, who treated him like an overprotective sister sometimes, and who he often confided in for her sage-like country wisdom, knew of the tale he'd been spinning tonight. She chewed her lip thoughtfully. "So... What exactly does yer mark mean, Uncle Buck?"

Buck held his gaze on the twinkling ocean above. "Protectin' what I care about with every ounce of strength I have." He did not mince words.

Apple Bloom pondered this. "What is it that ya care so much about?"

He said nothing for a while, carefully thinking over his response as if it carried more weight than he would let on. Finally he spoke, slowly rolling the words around his mouth like he was tasting a new flavor. "At this point, I'm not entirely sure."

"Whaddaya mean?"

"Well, most of the ponies I deeply cared about have long since gone away." He traced a constellation with the tip of his nose. "Aside from you here at Sweet Apple, I've got nothin'."

"Most of the ponies?" She looked at him skeptically.

Buck chuckled. "Aye. There's one left," his gaze quickly flicked down at her, then back up through the window. "Maybe two." His eyes stopped roving around the sky and held position, peering at something with great intensity.

Apple Bloom fixed him with a questioning gaze, but held her tongue.

He continued, "Maybe ya heard of her?"

Apple Bloom was about to say that no, she hadn't, when she realized what her uncle was looking at. She could see it's bright glare reflected directly from his eyes. It covered the entire black pupil, so that it seemed his eyes had turned into silvery, glowing, ocean rimmed orbs.

"Princess Luna?"

"You got it, Bloomie."

She snuggled into his side, felling the rise and fall of his powerful lungs as he breathed. Buck kept talking, "Ya see, it was just after we'd reached the edge of town. Our group was in the back of the herd, on account of Leafdapple slowing up the pace. Wasn't her fault of course, I'd have carried her if it weren't for the fact that I had to turn around..."

The ground began to vibrate with a higher frequency. It seemed that the eruption was taking a turn for the worse. Buck looked back from where he was walking at the very end of the line of ponies vacating Stable. The caravan of refugees were situated on a hill directly overlooking the town. He could see the entire situation from up here, and it wasn't good. The two dots from earlier, which Buck now knew to be Princess Celestia and her sister, Luna, were flying over the crater of the volcano, using their magic to deflect the worst of the eruption away from the town.

Buck watched as the speck that was Princess Celestia ascended and began to whip around the edges of massive pillar of smoke, circling it and shaping the cloud with her powerful wingbeats. Her motion slowly began to shape it, narrowing the tower until it was a super-condensed, rapidly spinning line of smoke that stretched up past the clouds. The Princess was moving so fast that it seemed like she had turned into a line herself, a white blur that spiraled up the smoke tornado at a sickening pace. The smoke, which now resembled a giant rope, blasted it's material upward at incredible speeds, straight through the atmosphere and into space itself, removing the harmful gases from the world completely. Buck was impressed. The Princess had used a common technique he'd seen performed by weather pegasi, although in this case on a truly massive scale. He directed his attention to the other speck, the midnight blue one that he now knew to be Princess Luna.

The tiny pinprick of darkness was slowly circling over the volcano crater itself, using what seemed to be an invisible force field to deflect the torrents of lava and flaming debris that shot out of the mountain. The streams of material seemed to strike some kind of magical wall, and bounce back straight into the crater. This served as a corking action, plugging up any further eruptions. Buck watched in awe as the Princess shunted away a stream of lava, the hot substance sending out bright sparks when it touched her magical shield that could be seen for miles. Abruptly, the mountain decided to fight back. To counter the Princess of the Night's efforts, it had built up enough pressure now to release it's biggest payload yet.

A flaming meteor with roughly the mass of an oil tanker rocketed out of the caldera, heading straight for the princess. It impacted into her shields with a flash of light accompanied by a terrific thunderclap, and then proceeded to tear straight through them as if they were made of wet paper. Buck gasped in horror as the molten hunk of fire swatted the midnight-blue speck out of the sky like a pesky gnat. The stricken princess, now a blue fireball, was knocked away from the volcano, arcing high over the dim landscape. Buck faintly realized that she resembled a great comet in her descent. The fireball roared across the sky, picking up speed as it fell. Buck's eyes widened. She was heading straight for the town.

"INCOMING!" he roared before ducking behind an overturned cart for shelter. The refugees behind him scattered like leaves in the wind, most simply running away as fast as they possibly could. Ponies screamed in panic as the blazing cerulean streak got closer and closer. The noise of their distress was soon masked by the rumble of the incoming missile.

Buck turned his head away from the volcano and braced his back against the side of the upturned cart. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, preparing for the coming collision. He didn't have long to wait.

With the force of a freight train, the Princess impacted onto the outskirts nearest to the volcano of the town, releasing a mighty kinetic shockwave that blasted over everything left standing (buildings and ponies alike). Her fireball was traveling so fast that it bounced off the ground and rammed clean through half the buildings on main street before slamming into the local banquet hall, which collapsed on top of her. Buck staggered back to his hooves for the upteenth time that day. The others behind him attempted to the same. The stallion with Leafdapple on his back was struggling to stand, so Buck went over to him and helped him up. He felt a hoof tap his shoulder, and turned to find Leafdapple pointing towards the town.

"I think the princess is hurt!" she yelled over the noise of the eruption. Buck looked back to the devastation of the town, and sure enough, the banquet hall that had collapsed over the fallen monarch was eerily still. His eyes narrowed. He turned to Leafdapple, who was worriedly watching him. "You aren't going back there, are you?" she asked. The concern in her eyes deeply touched him, but he chose to ignore it. Buck got the attention of the pony she was draped across.

"Make sure you get clear of here." His voice was iron, his resolve even harder. "I'm going to go and see if she's all right, savvy?"

The stallion carrying Leafdapple nodded in acknowledgement and began to plod as fast as he could down the path to the fjord. The mare on his back could only watch as Buck held her gaze for a heartbeat longer, and then whipped around and plunged down the hill toward the ruined settlement.

Buck used the added speed of his downward momentum to almost fly over the dusty ground, his large hooves sending up little clouds of dust as he went. The bandanna wrapped around his face whipped the back of his neck as he sped along the path, but served the job of filtering the air well enough. Soon, he arrived in the ruined main street. The going got tougher here; fallen buildings, destroyed market stands, and overturned carts littered the road. Bounding over a collapsed chimney, he hooked a left at the intersection in the center of town. He was now running alongside the path of destruction caused by the Princess' impact. A long, jagged gash had been carved through the buildings on his right, stretching back toward the outskirts of town. Buck realized the Princess had punched a hole clean through every single building in her path before grinding into the banquet hall.

The hall itself was shaped roughly like a loaf of bread, with a high ceiling and small entrance on the side. The long roof had collapsed right along the middle, cutting the building in twain A gaping, slightly smoking hole in the side near the entrance revealed the fallen Princess's path. Buck hopped through the hole and looked around, letting his eyes adjust to the dark gloom of the ruin. The dirt floor of the hall was littered with broken tables and pieces of fallen masonry from the roof. The gash carved in the ground continued to the center of the room, where it abruptly ended in a pile of large support beams. The Princess had slammed straight into the heavy ironwood center support column, shattering it and causing the surrounding roof to fall around her. All in all, the scene eerily reminded Buck of the pile of debris that had crushed his parents.

"OY! PRINCESS! YOU ALL RIGHT?" he called. The second he said that, he realized he shouldn't even have bothered. Of course she wasn't all right, she'd been smacked out of the sky by a ticked off volcano. Buck cautiously approached the pile. If he was going to have to dig her out, he didn't want to cause the wreckage to shift and bury her more. He'd learned his lesson the first time.

"If you can hear me, I'm gonna try and get you outta there! Gimme a tic!" Buck set his shoulder against a solid support beam and heaved at it. With a groan, the ironwood log rolled off the pile. For the next piece, the stallion set his nose under the end of a slab of roof at the edge of the pile. He strained his neck and the slab lifted up a foot or two. This gave him enough room to wedge his head under there and begin using his legs. Powerful muscles contracted with frightening speed, and the slab was sent flying across the room. Buck continued this process for several minutes, picking off the debris along the edges of the pile first so as to not cause the rest to shift.

After heaving another log off the pile, he revealed a midnight-blue hoof, shod in a silver gauntlet. The hoof twitched faintly, and Buck could hear a faint groan coming from under the pile. She was still alive! Buck redoubled his efforts, working frantically. He changed tactics; instead of shunting the debris away, he began kicking it off. Chunks of wreckage the size of mid-sized sedans began flying away from the pile as if thrown by a wood chipper. Buck grunted as he sent another ironwood support column zipping away like javelin. "Princess Luna!" he shouted.

There was another groan, and the entire pile of wreckage shifted slightly, as if being pressed upwards from below. A silky, though somewhat addled voice rang out, using the Royal "We" in a manner similar to Celestia. "We are trapped, there is a large beam preventing our escape!"

"Hold tight! I'll have ya out in a jiff!" He called back. Buck dug out the pile like a madpony. No pony else was going to get left behind today if he had any say in it. Finally, he was left with a single beam covering the Princess. It must have been the main support column, it was several hooves in diameter and clad in a metal casing. Buck could see the midnight blue figure of the alicorn trapped under it. The column was laying across her chest, pinning her wings to the ground and locking her forelegs in place as she strained under it's weight. The Princess shot him grateful glance before motioning with her nose to the beam. Buck got an idea. "This thing is too big for me to kick away. I'm gonna need you to try and raise only one end. If I can get under it, I'll push it up."

Luna looked at him like he had sprouted a second head. The weight on top of her was tremendous; how was a simple earth pony going to move it? Nonetheless, she focused her efforts on her left side, shifting her strength to lift up that end. She groaned with the effort. The beam slowly began to move, inches at a time. Once he deemed enough room had been created, Buck sunk onto his belly and crawled under the lifted end, cutting open the the back of his head to his shoulders on the jagged splinters. He bellowed in agony as the ironwood bit into his flesh, but continued.

Once he had put himself in place, he turned his head to Luna. "When I lift this bloody thing, wiggle out under my legs," he grunted in pain.

Luna nodded and tensed herself. "We are ready."

Buck closed his eyes and pushed. For a few seconds, nothing happened. His entire body strained with the effort, every lean muscle and vein clearly defined under his dusty dark teal coat. The fire he felt in his neck and shoulders was almost unbearable. Buck's hooves slowly sunk downward into the ground. The weight from above was so great that he was compressing the very surface he stood on. His hooves stopped sinking once the material had reached some critical level of density. Now instead of downwards, the force he applied began moving the beam up. The stallion let out a roar and abruptly raised himself off his belly, pushing his colossal burden up several feet. He felt a strange, cooling sensation on his chest, but when he glanced down at it, there was nothing. Now standing at full height, Buck locked his legs and braced himself.

"GO!" He cried.

Luna, who had been watching with wide eyes, rolled around and sprung under his legs. She landed neatly several feet away, and promptly whirled around to help. Buck's left foreleg suddenly gave out, and he sunk to his front knees. The beam began crushing his neck into the dirt floor. His face was violently pressed straight into the ground, cutting off his air. He strained for breath and fought back with all his might, but it was useless. His strength had been spent completely from the day. He was done. With a sigh, he resigned himself to his fate.

There was a glorious release as the weight suddenly disappeared. Buck coughed out a mouthful of soil and turned his head. He almost forgot to replenish his starved lungs, such was the sight before him.

Princess Luna stood tall in all her glory, her huge midnight blue wings extended to full length. They almost spread from one side of the hall to the other. Her eyes shone a silvery white, and her horn was surrounded by a strange, darkly glowing aura. There, suspended several feet above, the mighty ironwood support column hung weightless. With a casual flick of her horn, the entire structure was tossed to one side as if it were a twig. It shook the ground when it landed.

Buck looked at her in disbelief. "What, you couldn't do that before?" A few drops of blood splattered onto the dirt from his shoulders and neck.

Luna folded her wings, and regarded him with interest. "We are afraid not. Something was..." she searched for the words. "Preventing us from using our magic. The force went away once we had managed to escape. But a more appropriate question given the circumstances would be how thou managed to lift that beam."

He shrugged. "Honestly, your Highness, I've been doin' all kinds of whacko things like that today." He took in the sight of her now that she was out from under the wreckage. Long, elegant legs tapered up to small, compact body. Her flank had a splotch of pure black, adorned with a white crescent moon. Deep cerulean eyes peered out from under a long, icy blue mane to return his gaze. He got the feeling that she was peering into his very soul. Despite the eruption still going on, he felt oddly at peace.

"...We do not think that we've met before," she finally stated.

Buck held out a hoof. "Name's Buck, your Highness. Buck Apple.

She shook it warmly. "Please, Buck. Call us Luna."

The Elder's Wrath

"...Tarnation! You saved the princess? That's amazin'!" Apple Bloom sat at the kitchen counter, a half empty glass of warm apple juice in front of her hooves. It was very late at night, almost into the morning. Applejack and Big Macintosh had long since gone to bed, but Buckshot and Apple Bloom had decided to grab a midnight snack, seeing as they still were up.

Buck took an enormous bite out of a biscuit, more or less swallowing the thing whole. "I didn't save her, I just... Helped her up." A few crumbs flew out of his mouth as he spoke.

"Don't be denyin' it; ya saved her life! Her magic was broke and she couldn't get out." She swigged out of her glass, gulping noisily. Proper table etiquette had never been a strong suit of the Apple family, regardless of the time difference. "Say, why was it on th' fritz 'n stuff?"

The knight poured himself a towering glass of Applejack's special cider to warm him up. During his time, the Apples had not yet gotten into brewing yet, and so he found himself particularly enjoying the one-of-a-kind concoction Applejack fondly referred to as the "Zap-Apple Shimmer." It left a pleasant burning sensation in his throat and yet still maintained that unique tangy flavor the orchard's fruit was famous for.

"I can't say for sure why her magic went bonkers when it did. She told me she began investigating it afterward, but seein' as how we've both been... ah, absent, for a long while, I dunno whether or not she made any headway."

Apple Bloom reached over the counter and lifted up his bandanna. She poked him right on the crescent moon covering his chest. "Maybe it's got somethin' tah do with this thing, here?"

He considered it for a moment, then shook his head doubtfully. "Probably not. I didn't have this back during the eruption. Hay, I didn't even have my cutie mark 'till then!" He patted Apple Bloom on the head reassuringly as she considered whether or not the extremely long waiting time would be genetic or not. "Don't worry, Bloomie. Ya get yer mark when ya find what yer meant ta be in life." Buck's eyes misted over for a moment. "That kinda thing can never be rushed."

"Ever?"

"Ever."

She sighed and slumped onto the counter, blowing an errant strand of red mane out from her golden eyes. "That just ain't fair."

Buck shrugged. "Life ain't fair, Bloomie. Ya gotta make the best of it, regardless. One day you might wake up a thousand years in the future and you'll ask yerself if ya did or not."

The pair downed the rest of their drinks in one go, slamming them down simultaneously. Apple Bloom wiped her mouth off with her foreleg. "Didja?"

"Did I what?"

"Didja make th' best of it?"

Her uncle looked like he was about to answer immediately, then held his tongue. After a few minutes, he spoke up. "I'd like to believe I did, but I can't say for sure. I've kinda lived two different lives, I guess. One back hundreds and hundreds of years ago, and one now." He took their finished glasses and moved off to put them in the sink. They clinked together as he set them down. "For my old life, I can sure as hay tell you that I made the best of it."

"But not this one?" She frowned, her brow creasing in a way that can only be described as so adorable it hurts.

"Well, I'm not done with it yet, am I?" Buck smiled at her. "Ask me that when I've used it enough to judge."

She got up and jumped at him, hugging the stallion around his neck. "Ah hope ya never get done with it."

Buck felt tears coming to his eyes from this gesture of love. He remembered when, long ago, another small filly with red hair had embraced him like this.

"...Eeyup."

Apple Bloom giggled and looked up at him from where she dangled around his neck. "So, ya gonna tell me how ya got the moon thing?"

He easily peeled her off and set her on his back. The pair headed back upstairs to Apple Bloom's room, where Buck promptly sent her flying into bed. She dug back in under the blankets and watched him intently, waiting for him to begin. The stallion resumed his post on the side of her bed and began to speak.

"It was the final day of the tournament..."

"... AND ANYPONY WHO'S ANYPONY IS HERE TO WITNESS THE FINAL EVENTS!" The announcer's magically-amplified voice boomed out over the Royal Palace. "SIX COMPETITORS HAVE MADE IT THIS FAR, FROM THE PONIES FROM ALL OVER EQUESTRIA THAT HAVE FOUGHT TOOTH AND HOOF FOR THE RIGHT TO REPRESENT THEIR HOME AS A CHAMPION!"

The Tournament of Champions was in full swing. It was a dirty, loud, rambunctious, oftentimes violent, but all-the-times entertaining spectacle of culture. Banners baring the symbols of various cities and towns hung from the Royal Castle walls. The effect served to turn the normally blindingly white stone surface into a colorful kaleidoscope of sensory input. The castle's training fields functioned as the fairground for the tournament, now covered in a veritable sea of tents and temporary pavilions. Ponies from every single corner of Equestria, not to mention griffons, zebras, buffalo, and one adult dragon had gathered here to observe the climactic grand finale. The tent-city had sprung up overnight, and now it pulsed, no, thrummed with activity. The area where the competitions took place was located in a freshly built colosseum standing smack dab in the middle of the madness.

The Proving Ground, it had been dubbed. Shaped like a large circle, the building rose up several stories into the sky, built in the style of ancient Romane architecture. The arena could house a staggering seventy-five thousand ponies, a feat of engineering that as of yet had been unreachable anywhere else in Equestria. A dirt pit, packed down by the hooves of competitors and other things, made up the majority of the space. Roughly the circumference of a football field, it contained several large stone pillars scattered haphazardly around the pit. They served as obstructions as well as cover for those challenges that required them.

The stone seats were now overflowing with spectators, cheering madly for their favorites in an almost unbearable din of screaming and noise. Flags bearing the emblems of three of the four cities were flapping crazily in the breeze. The single adult dragon who had come to watch was circling above the area, for his bulk would not fit inside. Occasionally he would dive straight down and buzz the place, similar to how a group of jets flies over a football game, his mighty wings blotting out the sun and his red fire tinging the atmosphere a softly glowing purple.

On the Proving Ground itself, six figures stood grouped together in the center. These six were the only ones left representing their respective cities. They had, through skill, luck, or a combination of the two, advanced to the very pinnacle of the esteemed competition. Each settlement had been asked to send a chosen three, the best that they could offer, to participate, and hopefully be christened a champion. The teams sometimes competed with their fellow members, sometimes alone, sometimes agaisnt other cities, and sometimes individual members were even teamed up with the other cities in the series of challenges that had been concocted by Princess Celestia and Princess Luna themselves.

The rules were simple. Win the challenge, and proceed to the next round. Lose, and you leave. The last member remaining from any given settlement's chosen three was automatically knighted and dubbed champion.

The six remaining were of a curious combination of representation. One full team of three had made it to the finals, something considered impossible due to the hereto-before unknown origins of their town, Ponyville. The Canterlot team, made up of a trio of Royal guards, had lost a member in the fifth challenge, and so were down to two ponies. The single remaining pony from Stalliongrad was a mystery; nopony knew how exactly she had managed to progress.

"AS THE CLOCK WINDS DOWN FOR THE FINAL CHALLENGE, THESE LAST CHOSEN FEW STAND PROUDLY BEFORE US, READY TO PROVE THEIR WORTH AND EARN THEIR TITLES! LET'S TELL EVERYPONY A LITTLE BIT ABOUT THEM TO RECAP BEFORE THE CHALLENGE BEGINS!"

A roar of approval told the announcer to commence. She obliged.

"HAILING FROM THE COLD NORTHERN CITY OF STALLIONGRAD, OUR FIRST CONTENDER HAS DEFIED THE ODDS COUNTLESS TIMES AND ALWAYS EMERGED OUT ON TOP WITH A SMILE ON HER FACE! I'VE GOT NO IDEA HOW SHE DOES IT, BUT SHE MAKES ME GIGGLE LIKE A FILLY SO I COULDN'T CARE LESS! STALLIONGRADITES, GIVE IT UP FOR YOUR CHAMPION, THE LAAAAAAAAAAUGHING MAAAAAAAAAARE!"

The crowd could easily pick out the neon-pink chain-mail armor of the Laughing Mare, who was practically bouncing around in anticipation. Already having been knighted, the mare was the last remaining contender left from her city. She was the favorite of her home turf, Stalliongrad, one of the most powerful cities in Equestria, and in all her appearances, her adoring fans made certain to roar out their praises of her until their throats bled. Today was no exception.

"TWO PROFESSIONAL SOLDIERS, EACH WITH AN IRON WILL EVEN EVEN HARDER HOOVES, ARE OUR NEXT CONTENDERS. STRAIGHT FROM THE CANTERLOT CITY GAURD, THESE BRAVE STALLIONS HAVE TRULY CHANGED THE VERY DEFINITION OF THE WORD 'DETERMINATION'! DESPITE THEIR NEVER CHANGING FACIAL EXPRESSIONS, THEY ARE SMILING ON THE INSIDE! CANTERLOT! SOUND OFF FOR BOOOOOOOOUUUUUUULDER AND SCRAPPY DOOOOOOOO!"

The Canterlot group pounded away on solid war drums somepony had thought to bring. Their reverberations shook the very air in a deafening cacophony of pulsing rhythm so loud that even the ponies in the arena had to grit their teeth to stop their jaws from shaking. Many had laughed at this; the usually uptight Canterlot unicorns were acting rather uncouth by their standards, hurling insults and cheering just as loud as anypony else. Their remaining chosen representatives, an earth pony named Boulder and a pegasus known as Scrappy Doo of the Canterlot Gaurd, stood strong and stoic in their customary golden plate armor, the blue feathery crests topping their helmet streaked with a red stripe in honor of their missing member.

"FINALLY, WE COME TO THE REMAINING THREE, ALL FROM THE SAME PLACE, ALL EQUALLY QUALIFIED FOR THE TITLE OF CHAMPION! THEY CAN PROUDLY SAY THAT THEIR ACTIONS HERE HAVE PUT PONYVILLE NOT ONLY ON THE MAP, BUT IN THE HISTORY BOOKS AS WELL! MAKE THE EARTH SHAKE AND THE HEAVENS TREMBLE FOR RAGDOLL, RUST, AND BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKSHOOOOOT!"

While few from Ponyville had actually come to the tournament, many had found reason for cheering for the only whole team remaining. They were the underdogs, the wild card, the group which everypony secretly wished to be. Those who had not sided with Canterlot or Stalliongrad were yelling wildly for them, stamping their hooves, blowing horns, anything to show their support. The Ponyville group was a strange mix of unique characters.

Ragdoll; strapped into a sparse leather chest guard with her shaggy white coat, bushy chocolate-brown tail and mane, exotic eyes, and ice-cool personality, had become something of an icon for the crowd.

Rust; his namesake rusty orange-red coat bare to the elements. He alone among all the contenders had chosen to wear no armor for any of the events. This peculiarity had caused much speculation, as none of the crowd had ever seen him fight, and nopony could even remotley understand the foreign profanity he constantly spouted. Hopefully, today would provide the crowd some answers about the mysterious stallion.

Towering over every other pony in the area, the final member of the team drew a thunderous standing ovation. Buck Apple; the giant among giants. Freakishly strong, unbelievably tough. His dark teal coat was covered in solid steel plate slabs of torn and dented metal; his suit of armor crafted especially for him by his teammates, once pristine, now tarnished by battle. Fans would often spread rumors as to how his protective hide had become so jagged and beat up. A scrap of faded cloth was worn around his neck, some memento of days long past. Heavy-lidded ocean eyes peered solemnly out from under a helm that had been recently replaced.

"ONE MINUTE REMAINS BEFORE THE FINAL CHALLENGE IS UNLEASHED! AS DECIDED BY THE PRINCESS THEMSELVES, IT WILL BE TRIAL OF COMBAT! FOR, TO UPHOLD THE PEACE OF THE LAND YOU PROTECT, YOU MUST FIGHT AGAINST ALL ODDS, NO MATTER THE COST!"

The sky looks so pretty today. Awww, look at that cloud! It looks like a puppy! Look at those widdle pawsy-wawsies! I shall name you Little Cinnamon, and you shall be my greatest ally.

Rust looked up at the sky, taking his gaze off the sea of the crowd. "Ahh... Beautiful fucking day out, huh?" Despite his nonchalant appearance, he felt full to bursting with nerves and energy.

Buck's voice sounded out from under his hastily supplied helmet, slightly muffled, due to its ill fit. "Too right, mate. Can't wait ta get this over with." Rust couldn't help but chuckle inwardly at this. The poor guy had had his ass handed to him the most out of everypony here. It was a miracle he was still standing. Rust fondly remembered how often Buck complained about violent challenges. The chivalrous stallion tried to avoid confrontation when he could, but his sheer size and imposing appearance often resulted in him being targeted first.

"Me too, dude. I'm getting tired of all this bullshit."

The big lug is a gentle giant. But he's damn good when his blood's up.

The last round had been another combat challenge, against an Ursa Minor, of all things. Thanks to an astonishing display of speed from Ragdoll, the team had managed to fell the great beast. Originally, there had been protest against using actual creatures in the area, so an alternative had to be found that allowed the contestants to "slay" mighty foes. The Princesses had solved the problem of actually killing living creatures by the clever usage of the Mirror Image spell. The forces opposing them in the area were actually magical clones of the original subject that would evaporate in a cliched poof when dealt enough lethal damage to kill them.

The danger to the ponies, however, was very real. Scores of medic teams stood at the ready in case serious harm inflicted one of the contenders. This had gotten some of them on edge.

Boulder, one of the contenders from Canterlot, was standing nearby. He chuckled darkly at their discomfort. "What's the matter, hayseeds, afraid you'll spill some blood?"

Rust didn't even bother acknowledging the guard, maintaining his sight on the sky.

Boulder snorted at the smaller unicorn's pluck. "You think you're pretty tough, little colt?"

"I know I'm tough," Rust shot back in his usual soft voice. "But like my fat-ass friend standing next to me, I'm tired of having to prove it."

The guard gave him a queer look. "You don't look like you could lift a bale of hay, let alone compete here of all places." He swept his hoof toward the stands. "So tell me, hayseed. How have you made it this far? The crowd wants to know, as well as myself."

Rust gave him a questioning glance before returning to gaze at his beloved Little Cinnnamon.

Boulder continued, "It's not everyday that some strange little unicorn competes at the same level as a Canterlot Guard." He puffed his chest out at the mentioning of his occupation.

The unicorn pointed to his flank with one hoof. "See my mark?"

"...Yeah. What is it? I looks like one of those monkeys from the Palace zoo decided to get friendly with your rear end." Boulder smirked. "Is that your special talent, then? Rutting with apes?"

"This isn't the hand print of a monkey, dumbass."

"Then what, hayseed?"

Rust finally turned to the guard and looked him in the eyes. The Canterlot Guard's rock solid facial expression he wore flinched involuntarily as Rust's gold rimmed pupils bored into his own.

"A monster."

Boulder was taken aback. "So what, then, you're some kind of terrifying demon bent on destruction and death?"

Rust returned back to his beloved cloud. "When the mood takes me." He pondered whether or not to continue.

Why the hell not? I can have some fun here.

"Are you familiar with the ending of the last Equine-Gryphonic War? Or is it true that a guardspony takes arrows to the brain as well as the knee?"

Boulder, slightly confused by this odd statement, bit back a retort to think. "The Gryphonic capital was sacked. Mercilessly. That was three hundred and thirty-two years ago. Since then, the peace has held."

Rust took an exaggerated bow. "You're welcome for that, bitch."

It took Boulder a moment to realize what the smaller unicorn was implying. "You... You were there?" He gawked, shaking his head in disbelief. "That isn't possible, hayseed."

"I wasn't just there, I was the commander who gave the order to attack. Best fucking battle I ever fought in." Rust gave the Canterlot representative a feral grin, revealing the four sharp canines he had nestled amid the usual pony dentistry.

"You're obviously insane, you know that?"

"What you call insanity, I call inspiration." Rust leaned over and spat a glob of saliva into the dirt. "Now, more importantly, does that cloud up there look like a puppy to you? His name is Little Cinnamon, and I shall rule the world with him at my side."

Buckshot's deep voice edged in. "Trust me, Boulder. You get used to him after a while."

...Well, fuck you too, Buck.

Boulder's teammate, Scrappy Doo, turned from his position to silence the three "Stow it, all of you. Something's coming out of that gate, and when it does, I wouldn't want to be hanging around shooting the breeze." The two guardsponies shifted and faced the wall, adopting the chiseled, blank features so commonly associated with their profession.

The object of their focus was a large, wrought-iron gate, three stories high, with bars as thick as tree trunks. Heavy chains crisscrossed the door, joining together in an enormous padlock, adorned with the emblems of the sun and the moon.

Looks like a god-damn boss door. I wonder what PC and PL cooked up? Maybe it's a giant cheeseburger or something.

Rust licked his lips in anticipation. He hadn't had a cheeseburger in a very, very long time.

"Luna! One of them knows what it is!"

"How is that possible? Our calculations indicated that nopony would ever guess at such a monstrosity! Who is it, 'Tia?"

"It is Elder Rust."

"Of course... Sister, we are curious about the Elder's participation in this tournament. He does realize that neither he or Elder Ragdoll are legible to receive Champion-hood, on account of their origins?"

"They know, dear sister."

"Why do they compete then? Surely no sane being would put themselves through this kind of activity for no reason at all."

"He said he was 'doing it for the lulz', whatever that strange phrase means."

"What are these 'lulz' of which you speak?"

"I haven't the faintest idea, Luna."

"... His kind are very strange. Very strange indeed."

"Quite. Now, there are twenty seconds left before the gates open. We need an unexpected substitute."

"Hmmm... Let us think for a moment. Oh! How about him?"

"You can't be serious, dear sister."

"We are. Will he consent to be copied?"

"One moment... Yes. My, Luna, you certainly are devious. Are you ready?"

"The heavens themselves shall tremble with fire!"

"...I'll take that as a yes."

The noise of the crowd fell to an expectant hush as the seconds timed down. The six ponies gathered in the arena faced the gates with varying forms of attention. The Laughing Mare was slowly rocking back and forth on her hooves, giggling softly through the pink helm on her head. The two Canterlot guards were poised for action, tense with anticipation. Ragdoll had sunk into a hunting crouch, her eyes, narrowed to ice blue slits eyeing the gate expectantly, her tail lashing to and fro violently. Rust had simply leaned up against a nearby pillar, still gazing up at his beloved puppy-shaped cloud.

Buck quickly glanced at the eccentric unicorn and shook his head in disbelief. Resigning to confront his teammate about his odd competitive habits at a later time, Buck turned back towards the padlocked gate and braced himself. The enormous metal plates covering his frame screeched and groaned as he moved, but nonetheless submitted to his motions. Buck grimaced as some of the jagged edges in the damaged suit bit into his coat.

One more time, then I'll be done with this thing. Bloody piece of junk gives me a rash.

The armor had been through quite a bit, he mused. Burned (repeatedly), electrocuted, pelted with diamond spikes, slammed through the stone pillars dotting the area on multiple occasions... It was a miracle he was still alive, and this only seemed to further the spreading of the exaggerated tales his fans told of him. Buck snorted through his ill-fitting helm as he recalled how more often than not he was swarmed with ponies clamoring for his attentions almost as soon as he set hoof out of the arena. The fans smothered him for the most part, and so Buck had spent most of his free time away from the tournament, in the Royal Palace with Princess Luna, with whom he had enjoyed a deep friendship since their meeting nearly a decade ago on the day of the eruption.

The Canterlot war drums began pounding in time with the countdown. Buck rolled his shoulders in an attempt to calm himself, feeling the two inch thick steel epaulets putting up a reassuring resistance. He would never admit it, but he wasn't just nervous about combat challenges, he was downright terrified, and for good reason. Buck was glad his family was not present to see him compete in such events. Violence had never been something he enjoyed, and despite the fact that he often had to resort to it, the large stallion had never once in his life enjoyed doing so... until when he found himself caught up in the rush of battle. He reflected on how he had this strange parallel within himself; one side gentle and caring, the other, a true terror to behold. It somewhat disturbed him that soon after entering a fray, his fears and inhibitions would wash away, and he would unconsciously slip into the guise of a veritable force of nature, hell-bent on crushing the skull of anything standing in the way of his goal beneath his armored hooves.

Shrugging his inhibitions aside, Buck narrowed his eyes and held his breath as the drums reached a ground-shaking crescendo...

...A deathly silence filled the area as the door swung open...

...Followed by a startled gasp from both spectators and five of the six competitors as they realized the chamber behind the door was completely empty.

Buck gaped at the entrance in confusion, before turning sharply to his right after hearing a loud, foreign curse. Rust was leaning against the nearby pillar, his eyes trained on the sky, large with shock.

"Why did it have to be a dragon?" The unicorn rhetorically spat after muttering a few more incomprehensible profanities. "Scaly bastards have way too many health points for their own good."

Buck followed his gaze to see not one, but two fully grown adult dragons circling the arena. They were exactly alike in every respect. Buck gulped audibly. This had to be Luna's doing; the alicorn delighted in presenting difficult challenges to the contenders.

Abruptly, one of them peeled off from its flight pattern, rocketing downward like a bullet the size of a small skyscraper. It punched a hole through several of the overhead clouds before descending into the arena, its massive wings sending up gusts of wind that knocked over many of the spectators. The dragon settled onto the packed dirt of the Proving Ground with a cataclysmic crash, it's red scales sparkling faintly with the magic so recently used for its creation. It tilted its head back, and from its serrated maw a spewing inferno of crimson fire issued forth, jetting high into the sky. The crowd involuntarily covered their eyes from the bright blaze.

Buck nervously readied himself into a fighting stance, but was suddenly shunted aside as Rust stalked in front of him. The smaller unicorn stood on his hind legs, walking around as if it was something natural. Two rapidly spinning buzz-saws of green light held like shields in both of his forelegs, now hanging at his sides. The unicorn strode in this manner right up the massive dragon. He looked ridiculous standing in front of it, truly dwarfed in size.

Rust narrowed his eyes, which were now faintly glowing the same color as his horn and the shields. "You!" he cried to the dragon. Buck shook his head in disbelief. What was he thinking? He'd be annihilated!

Rust continued: "You overgrown newt!" He raised his dangling foreleg and pointed at the sky. The spinning wheel of light hovering just off the limb crackled with angry energy. "You killed Little Cinnamon!"

Sure enough, one of the many clouds the dragon had shot through during it's descent looked faintly like a puppy... now including a gaping hole in it's head.

The unicorn brought the whirling shields together with a crash; green sparks issued forth as the magical edges ground against each-other.

"The dragons have returned... But... there is one they fear.... In their tongue, he is Dovakiin; Dragonborn!"

He took a deep breath... Energy filled the very air... The crowd hushed in anticipation.

Rust suddenly let out his breath with a whoosh of air. "Fuck that shit. I'm just going to cut your head off."

The dragon let out a terrible, screeching roar, and Buck and the other contestants charged as one.