The cold nighttime wind blew over the railway as Jack stared somberly at the train, frowning deeply as its single, lonely whistle shot across the nearly empty station. She brushed her long blonde hair from her eyes, and stole a glance at the only other person standing nearby. He was a strongly built man; tall and tough, like a plaid wearing bull. In his calloused hands were several travel bags, all filled to the brim with her belongings. He regarded the train casually with half open eyes.

“I don't wanna do this,” the girl stubbornly grunted, crossing her arms under her breasts.

“But yer gonna.” he drawled back. “Yer goin', an' that's that.”

“Mac,” she started to quickly reason, adjusting the cowboy hat she wore. “Who's gonna help 'round the farm?”

He seemed to slowly ponder this, chewing absentmindedly on a toothpick in his mouth. “God'll provide.” The farmer finally shrugged.

Macintosh was only a few years her senior, but there were times when he just sounded so... old.

“Ya say that, but I'd prefer a more practical answer,” Jack countered.

“It's as practical as it needs ta be, sis.” He turned his lazy green eyes towards the girl. “I'm givin' ya the chance ta be somethin' I never could—college educated. An' at one of the best Academies money can offer, too.”

“But how we gonna pay fer it? We're barely scrappin' by as it is, Mac. Ain't no way we can afford fer me ta go back ta school.”

“We can, an' we will. Ain't no other way outta this one.” He gave a quick, joking kick to Jack's backside, leaving a dusty boot imprint on her faded jeans. “Now get up in there. I'mma sure the conductor's gettin' pissed at ya stallin'.”

She huffed, brushing off her seat. “Fine. Didn't realize ya wanted me out this bad.”

“Eyup,” he quietly joked, tossing her luggage inside the cart. “Jus' make sure ta write an' come back on vacation, alright?”

“Of course, Mac.” As he loaded the last of her things onto the train, she wrapped him in a tight hug. “Tell Bloom I'm sorry she didn't get ta come see me off.”

“She'll understand,” he said. “I hope,” he added under his breath.

Jack walked past him and entered the train, scooping up what she could of her luggage. With a small, surprisingly timid wave of her hand, she bid goodbye as the last whistle rang out into the countryside.

“Love ya, bro,” she called out, refusing to cry.

“Love ya too, sis,” he answered back, wiping his eyes onto his flannel shirt. “A-aint too long 'till yer first break. I'll see ya then, o-ok?”

“It's a promise.”

The blonde leaned back in her seat, sighing as the train finally departed the station. The cart was nearly empty, only holding her and one other girl in the back of the cart. The other one seemed intently focused on a video game of some sort—her curly pink hair bobbed as she darted back and forth to what was on the screen. The southerner never found the appeal in most games, save for ones that told a good story. Those ones at least she could enjoy even if she wasn't actually good.

She looked out the window at the moonlit sky. Fields and ponds blanketed the sight as far as the eye could see. In the far distance, there was a pocket of woods—Jack had got lost there once when she was younger. Macintosh took her snipe hunting, and, well... she was still pretty sore about that one.

This land spoke to her in so many ways. It hurt leaving, that was for sure. And for what? So Macintosh could pat himself on the back?

Her brow furrowed at the thought, and she scowled. Seconds later, she shook her head. Nah, Mac was only doing this to make their folks proud and give her the chance he never did, all thanks to the accident that took their mama and pa from them.

The young woman reached into one of her bags and pulled out the pamphlet for the school she was traveling to. As she read what was on the paper, her lips moved in time with her mind, a vice she had ever since she was little.

“Cloudsdale University. Over two hundred years service providing magic training for soul-folk. Over one hundred years providing education to the world. Come and view our pristine academy, fantastic teachers, and five star gourmet meals...”

She stopped reading, tossing the pamphlet to the side. “Damn it, Mac. I didn't need anythin' this fancy. Yer jus' tossin' money inta the wind,” Jack complained to herself.

“Who's Mac?” a voice questioned from right behind her. She whipped around, nearly gasping at the pink haired girl leaning on her headrest. She was a cute thing with a charming, innocent smile and light blue eyes. She extended her hand over the seat. “Hi! My name's Diane! But most people call me Pinkie, 'cause I like pink so much!” She giggled. “How about you? What's your name?”

“Uh...” the farmer quickly let her southern charm kick in until her brain rebooted from the surprise. “I'm Jack Apple. Pleasure ta meet ya.” She grabbed Pinkie's hand and gave it a firm shake, noting a mark in the shape of three balloons on the back of the girl's hand.

Earth-folk too, huh? Applejack thought, stealing a quick peek at the back of her own calloused hand and noting the three apples dotting it.

“Apple family?!” The other gasped, as if the revelation was integral to the world functioning. “You're brothers with Macintosh, right?”

“Eyup. Ho-”

“I knew it!” Pinkie giggled, balling up a fist and putting it down into her palm. “I'm part of the Pie clan—we're maybe an hour or so west of you guys. Mac's visited before to butcher a few pigs. Small world!”

“Huh. I knew he took the pigs and beef ta get slaughtered somewhere close. Guess I never knew the butchers had a gal my age.” Applejack glanced towards the pamplet she had so casually thrown to the side moments ago. “If yer on this train, then I reckon yer goin' ta the same spot as me.”

“Next stop, Cloudsdale!” The other one boasted, quickly standing on her seat and sticking a foot on top of the farmer's headrest. She pointed forward with the exuberance of a pirate finding gold.

“I'm takin' ya've been there 'bouts before?” Jack drawled, turning to and fro in an attempt to comfortably sit without running her head into the other's pink converse shoes.

“Well, duh! I'm a Sophomore now! I've been, like, around the block.” She innocently beamed a toothy grin, sticking out her petite chest proudly and throwing her head back with mirth.

“Well then, how's 'bout ya fill me in on the experience. I ain't never been ta someplace so fancy 'fore... 'least, not in a long, long time. How should I act?”

Pinkie put a finger to her chin for a moment, squinting her eyes shut. She quickly opened them. “Be yourself, silly! It's what I do!”

The farmer paused, smiling slightly. “Well, I like that advice. Ain't never been one ta play roles, I'd much rather be a heart on my sleeve kinda gal, I suppose.”

Pinkie nodded so quickly that her poofy pink hair wiggled and jiggled. “Uh-huh! And don't worry—I can introduce you to everything when we get there! I'm, like, the best tour guide ever! And we can throw you a party and invite all of my friends! It'll be great!”

“N-now jus' hold yer horses, I ain't sure if I wanna do all that tonight. Can it wait 'till morning?”

“Of course, silly-billy! There's no classes until Wednesday!”

“Good deal.” Jack let out a long, drawn out yawn, and rubbed her green eyes. “God, how late is it?”

“Late? It's early! It's only one'o'clock!” Pinkie enthusiastically stated. “We're not getting there until four.”

“One?! Shootfire, I'm usually in bed by the time eleven rolls 'bout. No wonder I'mma yawnin' so much.”

“Oh! You're wanting to sleep! I can understand that, I'm pretty tired myself! We had to wean some calves from the bottle today! Let's see, how many did we stop givin' milk? There was Armand, Alphonse, Berry, Brick, Brunt, Bill, Boston, Boston Cream Pie, Coconut, Custard, Davy, Dewey, Frank...”

Jack's eyes grew heavy as the girl continued to ramble on and on. She felt her eyes involuntary start to close...

“...Yam, Yo-yo, Yggdrasil, Zebra...”

Jack awoke with a yawn as the train jerked to a halt. She tiredly glanced over to Pinkie, and wasn't sure if she felt relief when she noted the girl was leaned back in the seat behind her, talking in her slumber. On noting the train stopped, Jack rose and gave Diane a quick shake.

“Up an at 'em. We're here,” the farmer quickly said.

Pinkie yawned, stretching out as much as she could in the chair. “Oh wow!” she chirped. “That train ride flew by!”

“Sleepin' can have that effect, yeah,” the farmer casually said, smiling gently. Even though Pinkie was her age, Jack couldn't help but hold a maternal instinct for the childish woman. Instinctively, she tussled the pink girl's hair. “Let's get ta mosyin'. I'm sure the conductor wants ta get a move on.”

“Okie dokie loki!” Pinkie chirped.

The two, both loaded down with luggage, stepped foot onto the station. Jack took a deep breath, and was surprised how, well, clean the air still felt. It reminded her of home. As she looked around the nearly empty station, Pinkie tugged at Jack's collar.

She pointed straight ahead. “There's our ride!”

Standing at attention was a thin and frail elderly man in a crisp, clean gray overcoat. In his gloved hands was a small sign. Diane Pie and Jack Apple, it said.

“Hans!” the girl giggled, dropping her stuff and running over to give the man a bone crushing hug. He gasped at the impact, but soon his dark and kindly face lit up.

“Ms. Pie. Fantastic to see you as well.” He quietly laughed, putting a gentle hand on top of her head. The man soon coughed into his hand, and looked over to the tall and tanned woman awkwardly holding her bags. “Ms. Apple, if I am so bold to guess?”

“Eyup.” She nodded. “Jack'll do me jus' fine, though.”

He gently moved past Pinkie, and gave a small bow. “My name is Hans. I am to be your driver. Please, allow me to take your luggage and-”

“Ain't no need. I got it myself,” Jack replied, moving her assortment of bags to one hand in order to grab Pinkie's load. She shrugged easily. “This ain't nothing compared ta some of the junk I've had ta haul over at the Acres.” The farmer easily brushed past the two, heading for the exit. Hans and Diane met each others glances and shrugged.

Jack bumped the door handles with her foot, nudging the exit gently and stepping through the door. She took a few steps and adjusted her baggage.

It was a quaint, picturesque town. In the fresh misty morning air, Jack took a deep breath of life. A paperboy rode past her, throwing his ware onto the steps of the various shops lining the cobblestone street on her right. To her left was green fields, and a small dirt path leading to a pond filled with casually swimming ducks and surrounded by trees in the distance. A pale woman wearing a yellow sweater brushed pink hair away from her gentle face, and threw bread crumbs towards the animals. She seemed to giggle when one took notice of her treat.

A neighing from a few feet away drew Jack's attention back to business. Standing proudly on the streets was a carriage with two well bred brown horses, looking smart in matching black collars. Jack felt empathy for the two animals, and made her way towards them, giving each gave a small stroke of affection on their blonde manes in turn. They welcomed her with gentle, chocolate eyes.

“I see you met Abigail and Allison.” Hans called out, walking alongside Pinkie and coming to the carriage. He fondly gave each a tap on the side, and climbed up to the drivers seat, giving a friendly glance towards Jack. “They normally don't take all that kindly to strangers, Ms. Apple. They must sense a kindred spirit in you.”

“Always liked horses,” she agreed, opening the carriage's door and loading her and Pinkie's bags inside. “Have a few back at the farm myself.”

“Wow! That's cool!” Diane gushed. She noticed Jack loading her stuff inside the carriage. “Wait!” she called out. The farmer paused, turning to look at the pink haired girl.

“I don't take my stuff to Cloudsdale. I stay with the bakers in town.”

“Do what now?”

Pinkie gestured to one of the buildings, where Jack saw a woman wiping a glass counter stocked with baked goods.

“Yeah! I live with Mr. and Mrs. Cake during school! I help them plan parties! And cater! I love catering!”

Jack gave a sudden nod. “Ah. That explains the balloons, I reckon.”

“Balloons?” The pink haired girl questioned. Jack pointed to her own hand, where three apples stood proudly on her heavily bronzed skin.

“Eyup. Yer mark.”

“Oh.” she said, then her eyes widened in realization. “Oh!” she exclaimed, raising her hand to eye level. “Yeah! I'm, like, super happy when I throw parties for people! It's fun!”

“Ya seem like the type ta make 'em fun, Pinkie.” Jack smirked, casually tilting her hat back with a finger. “Need a hand taking yer bags in?”

“Silly! I got 'em!” The girl giggled. She brushed past Jack, picking through the pile of stuff for her own bags, then skipped towards the bakery, humming loudly.

“She always that, uh, hyper?” the farmer asked the old man sitting on the drivers bench.

“No, Ms. Apple. Sometimes she's even more energetic,” Hans answered, grabbing the horse's reins in his gloved hands. “Better get inside the carriage. We shall be leaving when Ms. Pie returns.”

“Actually, it alright if I sit up front with ya? It's a pretty nice mornin' out, after all.” Jack had already hoisted herself up to the front, and moved slightly to get comfortable on the wooden bench.

“Sure. Just be careful and hold tight.”

Pinkie came bounding back outside after a minute or two, and ducked into the carriage. With a whistle and a slight crack of the reigns, they were off.

Jack tried to absorb every aspect of the town as the drove. The friendly faces and polite waves of the people they passed, the soothing sound of the river, and the scents of home cooked meals.

It was the kind of place she wouldn't mind calling home, if the farm ever went belly up.

“What's the name of this town, Mister?” she asked.

“You're in Saint Charles, Ms. Apple. Though the residents around here call it Ponyville.”

The blonde gave a disbelieving look over to the man. “Do what now?”

“This town has a history of relying on ponies.” He gave the briefest of glances towards Jack, before returning to minding the horses. “Though I have my suspicions you would not be interested in the story.”

Truth was, Jack never did have much of a keen interest in history. However, her drive to be polite overruled her normal apathy for the subject.

“Honestly, I don't. But go ahead, I reckon we've got ourselves a bit of a ride anyway.”

“Well, you remember anything taught to you on history about... two hundred years ago?”

“That was 'bout twenty years 'fore the three tribes were able ta join together under an alliance, right?”

“Correct. Well, during that time, it was quite common for the different race of men, or 'folk' as girls such as yourself have gotten used to calling them, to fight one another. And as any General knows, troops are only as good as the orders issued to them. Sky-folk could fly messages to their troops in moments, and trained soul-folk can almost instantly transport messages to letter stations. That left earth-folk like ourselves behind on vital, lifesaving information. This town was the start of what was known as the Pony Express.”

“Pony Express?” Jack repeated. “What in tarnation ya mean?”

He gazed ahead as they traveled past the outskirts of the quaint town, and began a gentle pace on a long curving road that cut through fields of green. “It is what historians called the system earth-folk used to transport messages. We would have some of our best men ride some of our finest horses at a full on gallop to way stations about ten or fifteen miles apart. There, they cycled over to fresh horses and repeated the task. It helped us close the message gap immensely.” Hans gave a quick glance ahead and noted a crossroads. He took a left, and continued to speak. “It was a fascinating area of study, when I was a younger man.”

“If ya say so,” the farmer dubiously answered. She looked east and noted the sun was slowly breaking the horizon. Jack stopped what she was doing, and turned to gaze at it, nearly stuck dumb at its beauty as it crossed over the treeline. A small part of her already felt the hungry, aching pain of homesickness thanks to a view like this—it reminded the woman of her place among her lands so much it hurt.

“Seems to be shaping up into a nice day, wouldn't you agree, Ms. Apple?”

“The kind that makes ya hopeful.” Jack nodded.

“Hopeful?” he echoed, waiting for her to continue.

“Eyup. Hopeful that we'll get more mornin's jus' like this.”

They traveled along the quaint countryside for about half an hour, Jack nearly nodding off in her seat as the comfortable temperature and breeze got the best of her. Hans gave a quick shake of her shoulders, and pointed straight ahead. The farmer followed his finger, and was greeted with quite the sight.

On a hill in the distance was a massive and sprawling Victorian mansion, lined with strong oak trees and what seemed to be a gigantic marble fountain. As the carriage got closer, Jack could spot several young men and women milling about the grounds, seeming like they had all the time in the world to just, well, sit.

It threw the woman off how casual it all seemed. She was so used to the fancy types that went to school being in a rush constantly. Granted, it might have been because classes wouldn't start for a few more days, but still...

“Oh wow! We're here!” Pinkie Pie announced from the carriage, poking her head out of one of the windows and grinning wildly at the scene before her. Before Hans even had a chance to stop the horses, she was out and running towards the entrance, giggling madly.

Jack gave a small laugh at the girl's theatrics, and noted Hans doing much of the same.

“Her laughter is infectious, is it not?”

Jack nodded, sill carrying a lopsided grin. “Eyup.” She hopped off of the vehicle and quickly reached into the carriage, digging out her bags.

“Ms. Jack?” Hans called.

“Hmm?” she replied, moving to the driver's side.

He gazed down from the seat with kind eyes. “I would simply like to say that if you ever have any questions about the academy, don't hesitate to contact me. I know that coming to a new location so suddenly can disorient anyone.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it,” Jack said, giving a small wink in return. The older man looked once more at the risen sun.

“I suppose I should be going back to Ponyville. You and Ms. Pie are far from the only ones needing picked up today.” He gave a quick shake of his reins. “Fair thoughts and happy hours attend to you.”

With that, he was off, leaving her standing and scratching her blonde hair.

“What a weird way ta say 'bye.'”

Jack craned her neck up, overwhelmed by the size of the place. She had seen it from the road, but it was felt so much bigger now that she was on its hallowed ground. Jack lightly stepped past the people enjoying the morning and entered the large entryway.

The lobby was, to put it mildly, fancy. She shifted awkwardly in her boots at the sights.

Large bay windows let the morning rays in, blanketing everything in a tranquil ambiance. Dotted throughout the lobby were posh and comfortable leather chairs; students seemed to have already found great ones for napping. In the far corner was a piano, where a dark skinned woman with violet, shoulder-length hair was playing classical music.

Jack stuck out her tongue in distaste. If the girl was ragging out some good old fashioned blues or ragtime, Jack could have gotten behind that. Classical though? Too stuffy, reminded her of the upper crust.

The woman paused from her piano playing as a boy of about fourteen came up to her and started talking. She listened at him, wrapping a strand of her rose-streaked hair, before quickly replying to him. The kid gave a smart salute, and took off at a brisk pace towards the back of the lobby, where a grand stairway lead to a second floor, and from that landing, another set seemed to lead to a third floor. Jack couldn't see it, but she guessed the third led to a forth, maybe even a fifth floor.

Jack scratched at her head again. They knew how to make the place big.

“Can I help you with something?” a voice called to her right.

The farmer quickly turned, letting out a small gasp of surprise. By her side was a modestly large receptionist's desk with a bored looking man attending. He was about her age, and as thin as a twig. Jack had a feeling that if she shook his hand, she'd break him. The wiry man pushed up his glasses and lazily looked over the woman, his eyes scanning over her boots, her jeans, up her taunt, muddy gray shirt, and finally resting on her plaid half jacket. Or, rather, her large bust.

“Up here, sugar,” Jack easily instructed, giving a quick point to her face. She was used to dealing with gazers at the bar she frequented back home, so Jack hardly gave much thought to the orders.

“Uh, whoa. Sorry,” he said, blushing and immediately glancing up to meet her brown face.

“An' ta answer yer question; yeah. I could use a hand with somethin'.” She gave a small lift of the bags she was carrying. “I need ta know where ta put these.”

He nodded, reaching into a drawer on the desk and pulling out a Rolodex. “Sure. What's your name?”

“Jack Apple.”

He quickly thumbed through the 'A's.' “Room 1408.” He gestured to the opposite side of the room, where a double door stood. “Go in there. At the end of the hallway will be a stairwell. It's on the third floor.”

“Thanks,” she said, giving a nod and starting to walk away.

The man looked down at the Rolodex card once more. “Wait!” he called out.

She craned her neck over her shoulder to gaze at him again.

“There's a note here that the student council wants to meet with you at three.”

“Student council? What in the sam hill?” she questioned.

“Dunno. Just what it's saying on the card.”

“Well. Thanks fer the note then.”

And with that, she was off.

It took a good fifteen minutes to climb up the stairwell and find her room amongst the dozens lining the hallway, but she finally did.

It was a modestly quaint thing. An undecorated bed on either end of the room with one next to a window. She gave a small grunt of satisfaction at the view, and started to unpack her stuff, loading books into the hanging shelf to the entryway's left, and placing a bible on top of the nightstand. She figured if the person she was bunking up with hadn't claimed the window seat, she might as well. Jack took the time to look over the rest of the room. In the center of the room, flush against the right wall, was a single chest of drawers with four units in it. Jack hoped she could get the top two drawers due to her height, as she doubted she'd be shorter than whoever she was bunking with.

By the drawers were two doors. One lead to a small walk-in closet that held nothing of interest aside from a few wire coat hangers. The other lead to a bathroom with a shower. She made a mental note to take one when it got closer to time on meeting the council.

Jack took a few steps back and sat on her bed, pondering why something as fancy as student council was wanting to see her. Was it because of her grades? She openly admitted she was a terrible student in high school, she had squeaked by in math and history by the skin of her teeth. Maybe she was going to be put on probation until she proved herself capable here?

She gave a small nod at the thought. This place was the cream of the cream—wouldn't make sense to let a bum like her just cruise through without pushing her to do better. Well, if she was one thing, she was a hard worker. Jack was gonna show them fancy pants know-it-alls what a simple gal like herself could do if she rolled up her sleeves.

With that in mind she rose, making a decision to go and kill some time until her meeting.