The saddlebags weigh heavily on my back, full of books in dead languages and trepidation. They grow more difficult to carry with every step I take, like somepony invisible is dropping rocks into them. It would be a relief to take them off. But I can't--not here.

This town is far too small to have an outskirts, so I walk right into the center, where several dozen ponies are milling around aimlessly. They greet me with secret smiles, random twitches of their tails, unfocused glances. That is the way things are done here. I am a hero to them, the symbol of an uprising that will never take place, but they can't talk to me. Just Iike I can't taIk to them.

It's an odd feeIing, being so restrained. I've been free to talk to anypony I want for weeks.

Suddenly, I see a pink pony with an overly fluffy mane, bouncing along the edge of the little village's central hub. Ah. This pony, I am allowed to talk to.

I make my way over to her. With how heavy my saddlebags are, it amazes me that my hooves don't sink into the cobblestones.

"Pinkie Pie." I greet her warmly, despite the pain in my back.

"Twilight!" She turns, throws her forelegs around me and squeezes. Her mane smells like baked goods and cotton candy. I inhale deeply, thinking about how much I've missed this scent.

"Did I miss anything important?" I joke, the humor dark even though my tone is light.

"Well...nope, not that I can think of." Pinkie releases me and grins, but there's something strained about it. "So, didja have fun on your big adventure?"

"Sure did." I pause. "Um...don't you have work to do at Sugarcube Corner?"

"Yep." Her smile turns melancholy. "But, hehe, what can ya do?"

She throws her forehooves into the air and rolls her eyes dramatically. "There's ponies to be cheered up."

"Uh-huh."

"Oh," Pinkie says, dropping back onto all fours, "Rarity wants to see you. She told me to send you over to the boutique as soon as you got back."

"Are you sure?" I ask. "I can stay for a little--"

"Nope, it's okay, Twilight." Pinkie bounces away.

"But maybe you could come with--"

"Naaah..." And she disappears into the crowd. I think about running after her, about making her come with me, but that wouldn't do anything but hurt both of us.

Besides, I remember something that Pinkie told me once, back when...she was more herself. Something about discipline, focus, and hard work. Alright, so I don't really remember it. And that makes me feel terrible. But I remember the principle, and that's enough, right?

Right?

I try to shake that thought out of my head. Rarity's boutique is on the edge of town. Not that far away, but I wish she had chosen to set up in Ponyville's actual, if near-non-existent, commercial district. That's a lot closer, and my ribs wouldn't be creaking under the weight of my saddlebags as I force myself to take each and every step.

Wings flap over my head halfway to the boutique. A tail made soft by years of rainwater and sunshine flicks over the top of my ears, and I stop as the wingbeats grow softer, focusing more on precision than power. Within a few seconds, a pair of rose-colored eyes meet mine.

"Twilight!" Rainbow Dash exclaims. She throws her forelegs around my neck like Pinkie did, hugging me tightly from a mid-air hover. Her left wing buzzes inches from my nose. "Hey, I haven't seen you for months!"

I reach up and very carefully loop one of my own legs around her neck. The whole situation is awkward, because I have to be careful not to pull her down or hit her wings, but it's worth it.

"So, how have you been?" I ask when she finally pulls away. Rainbow flutters, bobbing with her back hooves a few inches above the ground and her forelegs tucked in close to her chest. She frowns slightly.

The question is loaded, and she knows it. I feel bad about asking. But there's no other way.

"I'm great," Rainbow grins. "Been keeping off the ground, you know."

I nod. Rainbow Dash is a lot like me--she won't let go of what she loves. But instead of avoiding th--it out of fear, like I've been doing, she spends every waking moment in the sky. I don't think she's gone home since I left. Maybe she hasn't even landed, judging by the twitching, swollen muscles around her wings.

"So, uh, I know you've been up north. Looking around all those monster cities, right?"

The minotaur city-states. The griffon capitol. The dragon temples. "Monster cities" is such a crude name for them, but unfortunately accurate.

"So, uh..." Rainbow dash repeats, rubbing her forehooves together nervously. "Do they publish Daring Do books out there?"

Oh my goddesses. She remembers? She remembers! I feel a grin splitting my face, euphoria pushing past the dull throbbing in my hooves and the searing ache in my shoulders and the grief, heavy like stones inside of me. Because by Celestia, Rainbow Dash remembers!

"The newest book just came out," I tell her, my grin widening when her eyes light up. "Want me to tell you about it?"

"Boy, do I!" She rubs her hooves together, but this time it's out of anticipation.

It takes nearly an hour and a half to run through the entire plot of Daring Do and the Secret of Medusa Mountain, but I don't mind. Not that Rainbow interrupts multiple times, not that every over-strained muscle in my body is shrieking at me to buck off my saddle bags and sit down. In fact, I go deep into detail, prolonging it as long as possible. But there's only so much padding I can insert.

"Wow!" Rainbow leans back in midair. "I can't believe--"

She stops suddenly, blinking in confusion. My stomach drops into my hooves. Is this how it happens? Is this how our curse takes hold?

"Yes?" I press. It takes all I have to keep my voice gentle, my tone neutral.

"Uh..." She shakes her head in confusion. "What were we--"

"Daring Do." Maybe it comes out a little too fast. Maybe I don't care.

"Oh! Right, right." Rainbow flaps her wings harder and rises ten feet in the air. "Uh...Twilight..."

I look up. Rainbow's forelegs are crossed and she looks defiant. Tough.

"You haven't found anything...interesting...in those monster cities, have you?"

I slowly shake my head. The truth feels like my stomach is full of cast-iron, but I can't lie to her.

She just nods, expression controlled, and then bolts. She flies away as fast as the rules will let her, leaving a single sound behind: something halfway between a sob and a laugh.

The calling card of a pony going slowly mad.

Rarity's boutique is deserted. Nopony comes out here anymore. Maybe it's foalish, but seeing the building and the area around it so empty--so deserted--reminds me of the horror stories I read when I was much younger. It's not a good feeling.

I raise a hoof and knock. There is no answer, but the door wings open with a sad little creak. I step inside.

The interior is dark, curtains drawn over the windows and lights extinguished. Rarity is crouched in front of her mannequins, head bowed. Slowly, I walk towards her. She must hear my heavy hoofsteps, but she doesn't turn to look at me until I place a hoof on her shoulder.

"Twilight..." Her smile nearly breaks my heart. "Oh, darling. Seeing you...you have no idea..."

"What?" I ask, trying to keep my voice even.

"So many ideas." She touches my mane, my horn, my face with the edge of her hoof. I close my eyes. "The color of your coat and the shape of your face. My dear, I could create an entire spring catalogue inspired by your eyes alone! B-but...I..."

I open my eyes to see Rarity's fill with tears, and then she glances to her naked ponnequins. The shelves above them are filled with fabric, rich and beautiful, but untouched. Her sketchbook lies neatly on a shelf with unsharpened charcoal pencils beside it.

I reach out and stroke her mane, which has held the same cut for as long as I've known her, despite the changing styles elsewhere. I don't know what else I can do.

"Why do you stay here?" I murmur. "Why do you torture yourself like this?"

But, of course, we both know the answer. It's just like Rainbow Dash. Rarity forces herself to stay here, with inspiration that threatens to drive her crazy, just in case things change. She isn't gone yet. She clings to her creativity, her passion, with a determination that makes me feel guilty.

Even when Rarity can't stand it anymore, even when she lets go and trots through town looking pretty like she's supposed to, I'll remember. That she stayed, and fought, while I ran.

"Oh, Twilight..." She reaches up and holds my hoof against her face, tears running black down her cheeks even as she closes her eyes. "You know why. But...you came back. Does that mean...did you find--"

"No," I say quietly.

"But surely--there must be a book that could tell you how to--"

"Maybe there is." I swallow painfully. I've never felt guiltier. "I haven't been reading all that much."

She doesn't say anything. She doesn't have to--I know she understands, even though I don't deserve it. It hurts me so much to live without reading, without learning. But I am so afraid of becoming trapped in or losing what I love. Reading is just one of many things I have given up to protect.

So why do I carry so many books in my saddlebags? I don't know. Why does Rarity stay here even though she knows she'll never be able to put her ideas into action? Why does Rainbow Dash keep flying past the limits of equine endurance?

"It's enough that you came back," she decides. "Please be careful, Twilight Sparkle."

She opens her eyes and crouches again, staring at her ponnequins with an unidentifiable emotion. I don't ask her to come with me. I won't take her away from what little she has left.

Fluttershy is next on my mental list. I don't want to go see Fluttershy, even though her cottage is closer than Applejack's farm. I want to put off going to see Fluttershy as long as possible. The farm, as detestably far away as it is, seems like the best way to do that.

I get there by breaking deals with myself. I say that I'm going to take ten more steps, then slip off my saddlebags and rest. When I take the tenth step, I tell myself that I'm going to rest at that rock up there. When I reach the rock, I say I'll just keep walking for a count of twenty and then quit. And so on.

I have to wade through dead leaves on the road that winds through the Apple family's orchards. The sun beats mercilessly down on me, and sweat begins to gather beneath the straps of my bags. It stings the raw skin there. I look up, at the bare branches raking the cloudless sky, and the sound of hooves hitting wood echoes through the trees.

I stop. It gives me some relief, but not much. "Applejack?"

Silence. Then another thud, followed by a heavily accented voice calling my name.

"Yes, it's me!"

"Yer back?" Thud.

"Yes! I came to see you!"

Thud. "Well, that's mighty nice o' ya, sugarcube. C'mere, wouldja?" Thud.

I follow the striking sounds through the fields of dead trees, most with hoofmarks worn into the trunks. No birds roost here--no birds ever come to the Apple orchards.

Finally, another mare comes into view. A mare with a cowcolt hat and tired eyes, balancing on her forehooves with her back legs drawn up close to her body. As I watch, Applejack squeezes her eyes closed and kicks with a grimace.

Thud. Right into the hoofmarks.

She whimpers faintly before letting her hindhooves drop, then hobbles over to the next tree. There's nothing wrong with her legs, as far as I can see, but I've learned not to trust my eyes here.

I know I shouldn't interfere. I know I make it worse for all of us by interfering. But this time, I really can't help myself.

I gallop at her--well, as much as I can, with this dead weight on my back--and rear up, throwing one foreleg over her rump and one over her hocks. The intimacy of the position brings an automatic blush to my cheeks, but I ignore that. I close my eyes and ignore the hot sun beating down on me and my own pain and just concentrate on bearing down on Applejack's hindquarters. Keeping her from bucking again. Maybe...if I just hold her still long enough...

"Twilight."

She slips out from underneath me, then I feel a hoof under my chin, raising my head. Rough and calloused from years of farm labor, so different from Rarity's. And yet somehow the same.

"Twi," Applejack says gently. I open my eyes just as she drops her hoof and impulsively kicks the tree behind her with a soft cry. Then she sits, folding her poor overworked legs.

"Oh, AJ," I whisper. "I'm so sorry."

She attempts a grin. "C'mon now, there ain't no need for that. The pain's mostly gone now, anyway."

"I...I should have come back sooner..."

"And what good would that've done? Twi, it's better yer out there than back here."

She puts a hoof on my shoulder and offers a kind smile, before struggling up again.

"Can't you..." I trail off as she gets into position.

"Ah'm gone." Thud. "Dash and Rarity--they're still worth savin'. But look at me. Maybe Ah remember all them important things, but it don't matter. Ah'm still buckin' dead trees."

"I have a spell. Not--not the important one, but it would bring your apples back."

"No!" she spits. Thud. Seeing how shocked I am at her sudden vehemence, she softens. But not much. "Ah'm glad they're dead. Means somethin' still works right 'round here."

"Are you--" thud "--sure?"

"Ah'm positive."

I want to hug her. I should hug her. But she's moving too fast now, kicking trees in quick succession. I take a deep breath, and I move on.

"Twilight!" Applejack calls to me before I'm out of earshot. I turn, and to my shock, she's crying. Not like Rarity. These tears are few, bobbing from her chin even as she kicks, but they hold just as much pain. If not more.

"Ah don't..." She has to stop, clear her throat. "Ah don't want ya to remember me like this..."

I take a step towards her. "Applejack--"

"You shut yer mouth fer jest a minute and hear me out, Twilight Sparkle!" Applejack snaps. "You brought this here, it's the least you kin do!"

I visibly flinch. Had she kicked me like one of her trees, she probably would have done less damage.

She wilts, but doesn't apologize. We both know apologies are empty. After all, how many times have I told them I'm sorry? And how many times has it been useless?

"Ah want you ta know 'bout the time me 'n' Big Mac snuck around the other side o' the barn with a bottle of Grandaddy's 'special' cider," she says, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Ah want you to know about the essay that Ah spent all night on when Ah was still in school." Applejack grins sickly. Thud. "Ah got an A on it. Ah was so proud."

"I'll remember," I say quietly. Is there anything else I can do?

Thud. "Remember how these here trees look when they bloom, Twi. Ah used to think was the the prettiest things ever when I was little. Ah'd run through the rows so the f-flowers'd fall on top of m-me..." She laughs softly. Thud. "Ah don't know what happens to us when this thing totally takes over, Twi. But maybe we leave. And maybe you'll still be able to talk to me, with yer fancy magic. Ah hope Ah'm young and strong when ya see me next. And...and Ah hope there's apple blossom's in mah mane."

Her voice breaks. I don't say anything. I just turn and go, and it feels like I'm carrying the entire planet on my back.

Fluttershy. The name pulses poisonously in my mind, but I push it out, concentrating on seeing through eyes fogged with tears. I won't go to her. Because there is nothing left to remind, nothing left to save, nothing left but sea-green eyes and soft wings.

And yet I still feel my hooves turning up the narrow off-road that leads to her cottage. I keep my head down and listen for birdsong, but there is none. That worries me, because when I left, Fluttershy still took care of her animals. In fact, that was the only thing she did.

The cottage door is open. I step in, and gasp.

Empty. No animals, no furniture. Everything is gone. Except...there is something written on the far wall. I peer at it.

The sun hasn't set in weeks.

A chill runs down my spine. An astute observation, one that...I hadn't been aware of until now. But it's true. In central Equestria, there hasn't been night in weeks.

There's something on another wall, much smaller. My saddlebags gain several pounds as I read it.

Am I Fluttershy?

Right underneath that, so small I can barely read it:

Not anymore.

I don't explore the rest of the house. I don't examine the other walls for clues, like I might once have done. I'm too afraid of what I'll find. Instead, I break and run, bolting out of the cottage and down the road, flanks heaving and hooves aching.

Am I Fluttershy?

Am I Fluttershy?

Fluttershy.

Fluttershy, I'm so sorry...

Fluttershy, I was too late.

It's like a papercut. On my heart. Some of the worst pain I've ever felt--a pony can't live like this forever, sooner or later I'm going to crack in two. But not if I keep running. Past what passes for the outskirts of Ponyville now...

I see Pinkie Pie, bouncing along and feigning happiness as her days fade into uselessness...

Rainbow Dash, flying as fast as she can, but it will never be fast enough, not until her wings give out miles above the earth...

Rarity, sinking into madness as ideas bombard her from every direction and she can't make them real...

Applejack, breaking her legs kicking trees that will never bear fruit...

Fluttershy. Writing on the walls of her house as she tries to remember who she is. Was.

Maybe I could still talk to her. Maybe Applejack's right.

But now I see myself, trapped in an endless cycle, walking the same circuitous route through the "monster cities" time and time again, asking the same creatures the same questions, returning here to stare at what has become of my friends and repeat our conversations...

No! Something in me shrieks against that vision, rebels. My legs are aching and I'm going to collapse soon as I bolt across sun-soaked fields, and there's not a single pegasus in the sky above me. Not even a cyan one.

I will go further this time. Something is calling to me, from the lands across the seas, those distant countries where not even a trace of this curse has touched. I can see the journey now, where I will have to go. I can see the roads I will walk and the boat I will ride, boards creaking beneath my hooves and alien peaks on the horizon.

Perhaps this foulness will follow me, to this new place. But nopony knows who I am there. There, they will treat me as a perfect stranger, I will not care for them, and perhaps...the curse will not take hold.

Perhaps I will have to fight for my life there. Perhaps I will feel alive and free as I desperately battle some monstrosity, shooting beams of magic at it as I dodge and my blood sings in my veins. Perhaps...it will even kill me. Because across the sea, where I'm going, there is no rule that says I have to win. Because there, I am not the hero of the story and I was never meant to be.

I'm not the hero.

My saddlebags grow lighter with every step I take.