One More Night

“Goodbye can mean until tomorrow, or forever.

The hardest goodbye is when you don’t know which it will be.”

Scootaloo rolled lazily around a curve, past some houses and into the street. She had too much on her mind to really pay attention to where she was going. This was too fast, too sudden. She’d never admit it, but she knew she wasn’t really ready. Sweetie Belle was even worse off. She couldn’t even cast the spells she was supposed to correctly! How could she possibly stand up to the monsters they’d have to fight? And then there was Spike. Why’d he have to join in? Why!?

She refocused on what was ahead of her just in time to keep herself from crashing into somepony’s house. One quick motion let her fly for a second before riding off the side of the building. She smiled on reflex as she stuck the landing. It was that kind of riding that she quite frankly lived for, and she almost missed it with all her worrying. That would’ve just been stupid, especially if she got hurt over it.

“Hey, look!” said an onlooker. “She’s supposed to be on the caravan now, right?” Scootaloo couldn’t help but overhear. She smiled and slowed down as she passed.

“Yes, yes, it’s me,” said Scootaloo. Finally, a little recognition.

“What’s wrong with the others?” asked the mare. “The old caravaners, what happened to them?”

“They uhh, got beaten?”

The mare shuddered. “Oh,” she said solemnly. “Well good luck taking their place, Scootaloo.”

“Luck?” Scootaloo scoffed. “I don’t need luck, I’ve got plenty of skill to back me up.”

“Well so did Snips and Snails. As well as five years of practice.”

Scootaloo slammed on the brakes on her scooter. She frowned and stared toward the ground. The mare walked away silently.

Scootaloo remained silent, slowly drifting through town on her scooter. She stopped using her wings for propulsion. Instead, she passively stepped with her hoof every now and then. She rolled out into the middle of the market square before she ran out of momentum. She sighed and hopped off the scooter.

“Get it together,” she muttered to herself. “You can do this. You’ve been training, you’ve gotten practice. You just need to focus, that’s all.”

She heard the clanging of metal against metal faintly. One ear raised up as she tried to find where it was coming from. She hopped back up on her scooter and pushed off towards the sound. A stand or two lay in her way, but it was nothing she couldn’t squeeze through.

“Alright, what do I have to do again?” said Spike on the other side of the stands. Scootaloo stopped herself. She ducked behind an unattended stand and looked past the cover as it fluttered in the breeze.

“It’s simple, Spike,” said Lyra. She was standing in front of the smith’s home, or so it looked like from the light of the forge. Scootaloo saw her wave one of the practice swords in front of her hooves. “You just have to do a quick practice fight with me so we know what kind of equipment we need to make for you.”

Scootaloo saw Spike roll his eyes when the wind picked up. “So, by practice fight, you mean I don’t try to kill you or anything?”

“Spike!” Cheerilee interjected. Scootaloo couldn’t see where she was.

Lyra laughed sharply. “Yeah, sure,” she said. “I don’t care if you are a dragon. You’ve been cooped up in that library for so long, I’m surprised you’re not getting tired from walking around town.”

“How’s Bon Bon, by the way?”

“Just take a weapon already,” Lyra snapped. She slid a pile of wooden practice weapons over towards Spike.

Scootaloo squinted at them. “How come we only got to pick from swords?” she whispered to herself.

Eventually Spike found something. He slowly dragged out a short spear. Well, it was a short spear for a pony. For him, it was almost twice his height.

“Yeah, this’ll do,” he said.

“Really?” asked Lyra. “Spears are kind of crude weapons...”

He lowered the spear in front of him. His tail twitched. “Just fight me already so I can prove a point.”

Lyra spun her sword on either side of herself, then leveled it like always. “Whatever you say, Scaley.”

He didn’t change his stance. He slowly sidestepped in a circle around her. She followed carefully, sidestepping in the same manner so as not to expose her side. She lashed out with her sword, aiming at Spike’s right side. He swatted it away with the back of the spear’s shaft.

“Whoa,” muttered Scootaloo. She felt herself sweating, despite the cool wind.

Lyra repeated the attack several times, from both sides. Still, they remained at a standstill. Spike relaxed his shoulders. Lyra sprang at the opening. Her sword thrust quickly towards him; he ducked to the right and swatted away and down with his spear. He glared at Lyra and spat out a burst of flame. Lyra recoiled. Scootaloo saw her sword drop completely to the ground as it lost that certain magical glow. Spike jumped through the fire and swiped sideways with the spear. The blow connected with Lyra’s jaw, knocking her to the ground. He hopped up on the side of her foreleg and leveled the spear’s tip with her neck.

“Wait,” he said. He tossed the spear aside. “Sorry, forgot we were just practicing for a second.”

“That’s enough, Spike!” Cheerilee shouted.

Lyra laughed. “It’s fine,” she said. She cracked her jaw and winced. “He knows what he’s doing. That’s what we wanted to find out.”

“But how!?” Scootaloo clapped her hooves to her mouth.

Spike chuckled to himself and stared sideways at Scootaloo. “You catch all of that, Scoots?”

Scootaloo gritted her teeth. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the sword twitch on the ground behind Spike.

Spike turned back to Lyra. “So do I get my weapon now?” he asked.

“Just one more thing.”

“What’s—”

The sword flew across the clearing and slammed into Spike’s back. He was pushed off of Lyra and pinned to the ground.

“Ow!” he cried. A puff of fire came from the sides of his mouth.

Scootaloo fell back behind the stand laughing. “Nice one, Lyra!” she shouted.

“What was that for!?” Spike growled.

“That,” said Lyra, smiling snidely as she picked herself up off the ground. “That was for letting your guard down. Bon Bon’s doing just fine, by the way.” She let Spike up off the ground. “Now let’s go get you a spear and some dragon-shaped armor.”

Cheerilee’s face peered over the stand at Scootaloo. She turned back to the street and called, “Lyra, wait just a moment!” Scootaloo calmed down and wiped a happy tear from her eye.

“Get up, Scootaloo,” said Cheerilee. “I just had an idea. Bring your scooter out front, will you?”

Scootaloo sat up with a puzzled look on her face. She shrugged and rolled around the side of the stand. Spike leaned against the wall of the smith’s house. He rubbed his back, flaking off a few purple-white scales.

“What’s up, Cheerilee?” asked Lyra.

“Just trust me on this one,” she said. “Scootaloo, show me how you collapse your scooter.”

Scootaloo hopped off of the thing, but paused. “What? Why?”

“Trust me.”

She rolled her eyes. Gripping the scooter’s handle in both front hooves, she swung it overhead. Sharply, she pulled back in the other direction. The hoofstand snapped down against the handle.

“Freeze!” Cheerilee shouted.

Scootaloo looked up at what was in her hooves. She lowered it and braced one hoof further along the handles’ support bar. Now she recognized it. It was like an odd-shaped hammer.

“Now,” said Cheerilee with a confident smile, “Try another practice fight.”

Lyra stared at Cheerilee bewildered. “You’re crazy,” she said.

“Am I?” Cheerilee asked. “Spike used a personal advantage to beat you. Why can’t Scootaloo?”

Scootaloo smirked. “Come on, Lyra! Show me whatcha got!” She snapped the scooter back into the open position and took her place on top of it. Her confidence rose immediately.

Lyra sighed and lifted a new sword into place. “I really don’t think this’ll go as well as you think, Cheerilee,” she said. “But if you insist, let’s begin.”

It began just like every other fight. Scootaloo had memorized the pattern. First Lyra would wait for an early attack. Failing that, she’d go for the light attacks. If you took too long there, she’d get serious.

Scootaloo stood on her scooter and pushed off gently. She rolled on around while leaning at a slight angle, circling just like Spike had tried to do. Lyra once again strafed around to keep her eyes on her opponent. Scootaloo started to flap her wings. She picked up speed, and Lyra managed to track her... up to a point. Soon Lyra found her hooves bumping into each other and her vision obscured slightly. In a panic, she jumped around one-eighty degrees, facing slightly ahead of Scootaloo. Scootaloo laughed, and Lyra growled.

The sword flew out and swung at Scootaloo’s legs.

“Hah!” said Scootaloo as she jumped around the sword. She swung the scooter’s base around in the same motion. Cheerilee jumped in excitement. The sword came back in to Lyra. She shut her eyes and shook her head.

Scootaloo remembered to jump on these moments, just like Lyra or Apple Bloom would. She turned with a sharp burst of speed from her wings. She hopped off of the scooter and turned to fly at Lyra. She snapped the scooter into the folded-up position.

Lyra opened her eyes. She slashed vertically towards Scootaloo, who blocked with the bar of the scooter. Scootaloo’s rear hooves touched the ground from the stop. She smirked. She drew the end of the makeshift mace down and to her left, pulling the sword with it. Lyra snapped the sword back, panting. Scootaloo swung the scooter back the way it came. On a hunch, she had angled the base away from Lyra. It worked: the base swung back into the open position. Lyra barely ducked the swing, then thrust forward with the sword. Scootaloo snapped off the lock for the handles’ support bar and pulled left sharply. The bar blocked the sword, then the base clamped around it.

Lyra gasped as Scootaloo tossed the sword aside. Scootaloo swung the scooter out again; Lyra jumped it. Once extended, Scootaloo refastened the bar’s lock. She switched her grip, ready to swing back again...

“Okay, that’s enough!” Lyra shouted, ducking and covering her head.

Scootaloo blinked. She reopened the scooter normally and stood on it. “Did I win?” she asked. “It doesn’t really feel like it.”

“It was bad enough with the sword,” said Lyra. “But with something you can actually use pretty well? Really Scoots, I appreciate the enthusiasm, just not when we’re practicing, alright?”

Cheerilee laughed to herself. Spike rolled his eyes.

“So what does this mean?” asked Scootaloo.

“It means,” said Cheerilee. “That we need to make you a new scooter.”

Lyra sheepishly raised her head. “Can you please take these two to the smith yourself? I have a massive headache now.” Once again her jaw cracked audibly.

Cheerilee walked up to Lyra and helped her stand. “Sure thing,” she said. “You’ve trained them well, Lyra. You deserve a break.”

Lyra nodded slowly.

“Come on, you two,” said Cheerilee. “Let’s go see what we can’t get made for you.”

Spike stared blankly at her as he stood up. Scootaloo rolled up behind her, then they all walked off inside the smith’s place.

Lyra clutched her head with one hoof briefly before walking in the opposite direction. “Two down,” she said with a sigh. “One Sweetie Belle to go.”

Bon Bon sat in her home, paging through the Beginner’s Guide slowly by candlelight. She skimmed the pages one at a time. Occasionally she’d do a double-take, but to no avail.

Sweetie Belle paced nervously back and forth on the far side of the table.

“Anything yet?” she asked. Of course she knew the answer, but she felt she had to do something besides wear away at the floor.

“Patience, Sweetie,” said Bon Bon. “We’re not going to get anywhere until Lyra gets home anyway.” She shook her head. “The good news is I found the chapter on teaching methods,” she said. “I should be getting cl- aha!”

Sweetie Belle looked up with a wide smile.

“Musical talents,” read Bon Bon. She continued reading down the page quickly while muttering the words under her breath. Her hoof slipped off the bottom of the page and she frowned. “It only says to try the rhyming method, like we already were.”

Sweetie Belle’s smile turned over into a solid frown. She slumped over. Bon Bon shut the book and walked around the table.

“It’s not the end of the world, Sweetie,” she said softly. “We’ll just try to find easier rhymes to remember, alright?”

“But we’ve already tried that...”

“We’ll just have to try harder.” Bon Bon rested her head on Sweetie Belle’s.

Sweetie Belle shook her off and walked to the next room. She began to sing the same song from that morning at a whisper.

“Dreaming of the stars on high, that speak to me in—”

“Sweetie Belle?” asked Bon Bon.

She stopped singing and looked up at Bon Bon.

“What was that?”

“It’s just this song I heard once...” Sweetie Belle averted her eyes.

“How much do you know?”

“Not that much. A few lines maybe.”

“Could you please sing what you do know for me?” Bon Bon asked.

Sweetie Belle frowned. “I’d rather not,” she said. Bon Bon frowned as Sweetie Belle closed the door behind her.

Three knocks came from the front door of Bon Bon’s home about twenty minutes later.

“Hello?” asked Lyra from outside.

Bon Bon smiled gently. “Coming!” she said. She trotted up to the door and opened it. She gasped. Lyra had a nasty looking bruise on the side of her face. “Oh dear, come inside,” she said frantically.

Lyra smiled weakly. “Got any ice?” she joked. Nopony had electrical power anymore. Not for four or five years now. There simply wasn’t enough space or time to run an electrical grid when living and farming space were limited by the range of the guardian crystals.

Bon Bon shook her head as she lead Lyra inside. “I’ve got some herbs in the cabinet that’ll make it hurt less,” she said. “What happened anyway?”

“Spike happened,” Lyra grumbled. Bon Bon nodded as she looked through her cabinets. “I’ll be fine though,” Lyra added.

Bon Bon set a few small, fuzzy leaves down on a plate in front of Lyra. “Just dab those on the bruise. It’ll make it hurt less.”

“Thanks,” said Lyra with a smile. She levitated the leaves and carefully tapped the fuzzy sides against her face. She winced from their touch at first. “Oh, of course it stings,” she said.

Bon Bon chuckled. “It’ll be worth it later,” she said.

Lyra sighed and set the leaves down. “I do bring good news though,” she said.

“Hm?”

“Scootaloo finally found a way she can last in a fight.”

“Really? That’s great! How?”

“Crazily enough,” said Lyra. “She can actually be pretty vicious with a scooter.”

Bon Bon sat down and stared at Lyra skeptically. “A scooter?”

“Who’da thought, eh? Anyway, did you talk to Sweetie Belle?”

Bon Bon motioned for Lyra to lower her voice. “She’s in her room,” she whispered. “We took a look at that book, but we couldn’t find anything useful.”

Lyra shook her head. “I wish there was something else we could do. I mean look at Scoots. All we had to do to fix her problem was to incorporate her natural talents. Why isn’t that working with Sweetie Belle and her singing?”

Bon Bon raised her hoof up. They both turned towards Sweetie Belle’s door. A sweet sound drifted out from the room. Bon Bon smiled warmly at it. Sweetie Belle was singing, just without the words. Lyra stared unmovingly.

“That’s it...” she muttered.

Bon Bon looked at Lyra, puzzled. “Huh?” she whispered.

Lyra pointed at the edges of the doorframe. Bon Bon’s jaw dropped.

The door was glowing a faint pale green.

“Sweetie Belle, get out here!” Lyra yelled once the song was finished. She looked at Bon Bon and smiled. Bon Bon tried to return the optimism, but could only manage half of a smile herself.

Sweetie Belle cracked the door. “Why?” she asked.

“Just do it,” said Lyra.

The door shut. Lyra frowned.

“Sweetie?” asked Bon Bon. “Is everything alright?”

“Not really!” Sweetie Belle yelled back.

Bon Bon paused for a beat, then said, “Well I think we have something that can cheer you up! Really!”

The door slowly opened. Sweetie Belle stepped out and glared at the two. Her eyes were red as she sniffled.

Lyra cleared her throat. “Sweetie Belle, sing me a G sharp.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Don’t ask, just sing,” Lyra glared at Sweetie Belle.

“Laa~” she sang. Her tone was unwavering. Lyra smirked.

“Now give me an F natural.”

She did so.

“Now sing ‘fire’ at F natural.”

Sweetie Belle’s eyes lit up.

“Fire~” she sang, holding the “re” for a second. Her horn glowed for a moment.

“Now,” said Lyra as she levitated over a small plate. “Burn the plate.” Bon Bon stared at Lyra, jaw agape.

“Fire~” Sweetie Belle sang again. An orange light flashed on the surface of the plate as a small flame lit up briefly. She frowned.

“Forget the word,” said Lyra. “Picture the flames in your mind, and sing the F.”

Sweetie Belle nodded. “Ahh~” she sang. Her eyes locked on the plate and her horn’s glow grew brighter. An orange-red light flashed in front of the plate. Lyra saw the magic swirl into the center before—

“Gah!” Bon Bon jumped away from the round burst of flames and smoke. The plate was left scorched and black from the two-foot wide blast.

Sweetie Belle jumped in excitement. “Finally! Oh my gosh, yes!!”

“That was perfect, Sweetie Belle!” said Lyra. “Now, there’s four more spells to make up the Magicite Set...” Sweetie Belle ceased her celebrations. “And six more natural notes in an octave,” Lyra continued. “How’s this sound: C for cold, or the ice spell, E for electricity, or the lightning spell, G for the disease remedying spell, and A for the wound healing spell?”

Sweetie Belle thought for a moment. “How about, B for blizzard, C for disease curing, E for healing, and G for lightning because that’s what it ends with?”

“But doesn’t ‘healing’ also end—” Bon Bon started, but thought better of it.

“Whatever works, Sweetie,” said Lyra with a laugh. Sweetie Belle hopped over to Lyra and threw her hooves around her neck.

“Thanks, Lyra,” she said.

“Oh don’t thank me yet,” said Lyra. “We’ve gotta go outside and work on the rest of the spells now.” Sweetie Belle gulped.

Bon Bon snickered. “Don’t worry,” said Bon Bon, “You’ll do fine.”

“If you say so...” Sweetie Belle muttered. She hopped off of Lyra. Lyra opened the door with magic and motioned for Sweetie to lead the way.

“Be back in time for dinner!” Bon Bon called after the two as they left.

“We will!” said Lyra. Sweetie Belle waved before turning to talk to Lyra about the spells.

“Big Macintosh, I—”

“I don’t wanna hear it right now,” said the colt. He refused to look at his sister. He just kept pushing down the path back home. The sun was getting low in the sky, drawing long shadows from the roadside trees across the ponies while they walked.

“I woulda told ya, it’s just- Cheerilee and Zecora said it was important not to, and—”

“You coulda said ‘no.’”

Apple Bloom stopped in her tracks and stared at the ground. She shook her head.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because your family needs you, Apple Bloom.”

“I know that!” she snapped. “I also know if I had said ‘no’, it’d be up to Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, and Spike to keep us all from dyin’ before next year!”

“And what’s wrong with that? That’s three, isn’t that enough?”

Apple Bloom trotted up to catch up with her brother. “Well, uhh,” she said. “No offense, but neither o’ my friends have been doin’ so well. I’m just sayin’, I don’t think they’d be able to do it by themselves. And Spike is, well, you know...”

“Nuts?”

“Yeah, that.”

Big Macintosh stopped. He finally turned toward Apple Bloom.

“What gives you the right to say they aren’t doing so well again?”

“Well, I uhh,” she said. She couldn’t look him in the eye. “I guess I’m the only one really payin’ attention to Ms. Lyra’s lessons.”

“Is that all?”

She nodded slowly.

Big Macintosh sighed. He bent over and picked up a stick in his mouth. Apple Bloom tilted her head.

“What’re you—”

“Think fast!” he said. He gripped it by one end and swung wide and forcibly.

Apple Bloom ducked the stick. She bounced in the air, knocking it loose of her brother’s grip with her back, then flicked it away with her tail. She froze up with her tail still in the air. The look from her brother made her heart sink.

“Unbelievable,” he said, shaking his head.

Apple Bloom’s knees gave out. She shuddered on the ground as her brother walked away.

“Whatever happened to that sweet, peaceful Apple Bloom?” he asked. She couldn’t speak.

Big Macintosh lay on the Apples’ front porch, watching the sun. It had been hours since he last saw Apple Bloom. He sighed. So much had changed without him noticing. Apple Bloom was grown up now, he couldn’t deny that. He could see, over the rolling hills of Sweet Apple Acres, the cutoff point where they couldn’t farm any more. The trees there were surrounded by weeds and other plants that sprung up without the Apples’ interference. If only ponies could be like the plants and survive out past the line...

He heard the front door creak open. Granny Smith hobbled outside.

“Here, Granny,” he said. He let her brace herself on his back on her way to the rocking chair. At least she was still alive and well.

“Thank you, deary,” she said. “Where’s your sister?”

“Probably in town still.”

She sighed. “I heard the news of today. Somepony stopped by to let me know not long after the town meeting.”

“What all did you hear?”

“Just that our little Apple Bloom’s gonna be on the caravan this year.”

Big Macintosh snorted and looked away from her. She nudged him with her cane.

“Well don’t get too excited,” she said. “Here she comes.”

He looked up and saw that familiar red mane galloping up the road.

Apple Bloom sighed and sniffed as she trotted up the front steps. She shut her eyes and muttered, “I’ll tell Cheerilee I can’t go if you really want me to.”

“If who really wants you to, dear?” asked Granny Smith.

“Me,” said Big Macintosh. He sat up and beamed over Apple Bloom.

“What!?” asked Granny Smith.

He didn’t stop glaring down at Apple Bloom. “It’s in her best interest, Granny,” he said.

“Hogwash!”

“Granny!?” Apple Bloom and Big Macintosh asked in unison.

Granny Smith grabbed Big Macintosh’s ear and pinched. He buckled back down the floor of the porch.

“Now listen here, sonny,” she said, “She’s a capable young mare now. You can’t treat her like your baby sister anymore!”

“But Granny—”

She swatted his back with her cane. “She’s going on this caravan whether you like it or not, Big Macintosh! All of Ponyville’s countin’ on her and her friends. As far as I’m concerned, she’s a heroine now.”

Apple Bloom smiled at Granny Smith. Tears welled up in her eyes.

Granny turned to face Apple Bloom now. “I couldn’t be more proud. And I’m sure if Applejack were still here she’d be sayin’ the same thing.”

Apple Bloom hopped past her brother and hugged Granny Smith gently. She sniffled and said, “Thank you.”

“I love you, sweetheart.”

Big Macintosh sighed again. Apple Bloom looked down.

“I need some time to think,” he said. He stood up and trotted off the porch.

Apple Bloom sniffed back another tear with a frown. “Big Ma—”

“Let him go, dear,” said Granny Smith. “I’ll have a talk with him when he gets back.” Apple Bloom jumped off of Granny’s chair. “Now, don’t you have someplace to be tonight?”

Apple Bloom looked behind herself and gasped. The sun was half set already. And since the miasma grew stronger at night, this brought with it the shift of the line.

“Gah!” she yelled, frantically picking herself up and turning to run back the way she came. “Sorry, Granny Smith, I gotta run!”

Granny chuckled. “Have fun dear. And good luck!”

Apple Bloom kicked off of the front porch and galloped down the path. Slow down, Celestia! she thought, staring at the sun in terror.

Almost there, thought Apple Bloom. The ever-increasing darkness didn’t exactly help to pick out landmarks among the shady plantlife. It was a straight path to Ponyville, mostly, so she wasn’t worried about getting lost. All she knew was that there was a good reason she couldn’t make it home after training once the sun was down.

Sweet Apple Acres was fortunate enough to get its own guardian crystal. Or rather, there was a connection between Ponyville’s guardian and the one for the farm. There was nothing shielding ponies from the miasma in between, however, so somewhere along the path between home and town was a gap at night. No one knew just where or how wide it was, just that it was there.

I gotta make it, thought Apple Bloom. I can’t mess this up. Granny Smith’s right, everypony’s counting on me. On me, on Scootaloo, on Sweetie Belle...

A sudden realization slowed down her world. A pale white light glinted on the corner of her vision. She felt for a brief instant a strange tingling sensation over her entire body.

In the next instant she collapsed on the ground, writhing in a searing pain.

Apple Bloom felt like everything was fading away. She could barely even hear her own screaming. The tears in her eyes and the smoke coming from her kept her practically blinded. The pain seemed to be everywhere. Outside, inside, it didn’t matter.

That was dumb, she thought. And now I’m gonna die just ‘cause I couldn’t wait ‘til morning.

She remembered back to the early days, back before they knew about the line. No one knew just how bad the miasma could be. Of course, the ponies in her class joked about going out into it, but no one really was brave enough to do it. It was Diamond Tiara that first had her doubts about it. She accepted the dare from somepony, and waded out a good five feet past where they were supposed to be. It took exactly six seconds.

Apple Bloom would never forget her screaming. It was beyond haunting. Silver Spoon tried to save her friend, but only managed to get back maybe a foot before she fell to the same fate. Cheerilee, still their teacher at the time, called out for help, but none of the adult ponies wanted to chance it. It was Twist, Snips, and Snails who finally worked together to fight the pain and saved the tortured fillies.

Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon died of the miasma poisoning later that night. The rest were treated, with varying degrees of success. Twist was left completely blind, but she eventually got used to it. Snips and Snails spent a few more days under medical care, but both were mostly fine. None of the children were completely okay after that. That was the day they learned just how easy they could die if they just walked in the wrong direction.

Apple Bloom imagined her screams must’ve sounded similar, except no one was around to hear her. No one was going to save her.

Apple Bloom...

She wanted to look around for the source of the voice, but she couldn’t move. She was quickly blacking out.

Where’s Apple Bloom?

She thought she recognized the voice now.

Applejack? she asked in her thoughts.

I gotcha, Apple Bloom. Everything’s gonna be alright...

What makes you say that?

There was no answer.

Applejack? Applejack!?

“Laaa~” Sweetie Belle sang. She couldn’t bear to look at Apple Bloom in her state, but she could remember where she was by keeping her hoof nearby.

“Come on, Apple Bloom,” said Scootaloo. She stood over top of her sizzling friend. A pleasant turquoise aura surrounded Apple Bloom. The smoke ceased. The patches of melted hair on her coat started to grow back, while the simply burnt patches of her coat regained their color. As the hair grew back, Scootaloo saw her raw, red skin healing as well. In just a minute, Apple Bloom looked like herself. She was just still unconscious.

“Keep going, Sweetie Belle!” Scootaloo said frantically.

“That’s all that spell can do!”

Scootaloo lifted Apple Bloom in her hooves and shook her violently. “Wake up! Wake up, you stupid filly, wake up!” she cried frantically.

Tears fell from both Scootaloo’s and Sweetie Belle’s eyes.

Apple Bloom groaned.

Scootaloo smiled widely. “About time, you jerk!” she said as she hugged Apple Bloom tightly. Apple Bloom felt Scootaloo’s tears on her back.

“Applejack...” she mumbled.

Sweetie Belle leaned closer to her. “What was that?”

“I heard... Applejack...” Apple Bloom’s eyes shut again.

“No!” Scootaloo shouted. “I didn’t just ride through that stuff for nothing. Wake up!”

“She needs Zecora. Now,” Sweetie Belle insisted.

The next morning, at the sun’s first rise, Cheerilee and Zecora stood on the stage in the town square. The sun’s light refracted in the giant crystal, showering the stage in a subtle rainbow. The caravan’s carriage was pulled immediately next to the stage by a pair of cattle. Cheerilee unhooked them with the help of a young volunteer. The volunteer escorted the cows away as Cheerilee stuck her head inside the cloth cover.

“So do you all think you’ll fit?” she asked. “It’s a long, long ride.”

“I think we’ll be fine,” replied Apple Bloom. She stretched out on the right-side bench. Scootaloo lay in the bottom, while Sweetie Belle sat on the left bench. Spike sat on the outside front seat and lashed the loose reins passively.

Cheerilee smiled. “Well then that’s handled. Would you mind getting out so Zecora could explain the rest to you?” Everyone but Spike in the group nodded and hopped out onto the stage. Spike flopped off the side of his seat, then hoisted himself slowly onto the stage.

Zecora stepped forward. “The first thing you all need to understand is the sort of curse has come to our land.”

The three ponies of the group gathered in closely. Spike yawned.

“The energy around us, the miasma, is airborne evil. It exists for one purpose only: to harm, torture, and to kill.”

Apple Bloom shuddered.

“How do we fight it, you ask? Why, that is why you have your task. Celestia has blessed Equestria with the myrrh, purest essence of good. It is harvested from trees around the land, made of magic rather than wood.”

Even Spike was intrigued now.

Zecora slid a large, hole-covered cup out from behind her. There was a red, glowing crystal on a piece jutting up on the side.

“This is the chalice to which I refer. You will use it to collect the myrrh. Three drops of myrrth is all you need, however, my warning you should heed. You will all need great strength, for a journey of such length. The trees are guarded by monsters who wish no well to our kind. This is why you’ve been prepared, for the dangers on your myrrh-find.”

“Why are the trees in such hard-to-get-to spots if Celestia put them there? Wouldn’t she just try to make them right outside of where ponies live?” asked Spike.

“There is something you have yet to comprehend,” replied Zecora. “Not even Celestia is immune to the miasma’s rend. She protects Equestria with a line of defense, but suffers from a great personal expense. She now lives in the sky, watching with a mournful eye. Luna watches with her too, some say their reign is long through.”

“The trees, Zecora,” said Spike. “I asked about the trees.”

“When Celestia left for her life up in the sky, she left the ponies with what we needed to get by. The chalices and the guardian crystals would come first. Just by her will, every chalice and crystal knew no thirst. It was too much though, even for the Sun Princess. She scattered the trees when she left, with her last request: ‘Everypony must be strong, every village must learn how to cope. Equestria shall not fall so long as one pony still has hope.’”

Spike’s expression softened. Sweetie Belle frowned nervously.

Cheerilee chimed in. “The crystals in the chalice and the cart are charged to last on just sun and moon light. The town’s crystal, and therefore the one on Sweet Apple Acres requires a direct dosing of myrrh at least once per year because they protect so much wider of an area. You can’t see it now, but the chalice’s protection, at a much smaller scale than the town’s crystal, is distinct enough that you can visibly see the ‘line.’ The crystal in the cart is less reliable than the one in the chalice, but that only really concerns the cattle that will be pulling the cart. Frankly, we’re not even sure if they can get hurt by miasma, but we’d rather not take any chances.”

“Now,” said Zecora, “Does anyone have a question? Or are you ready to begin?”

Sweetie Belle looked at Apple Bloom, who looked at Scootaloo, who in turn looked at Sweetie Belle. They all shook their heads.

“I think he has one,” said Spike. He pointed over his shoulder.

Big Macintosh stood at the food of the stage, staring patiently up at Cheerilee.

“Big Macintosh!?” exclaimed Cheerilee. “What are you doing here? Didn’t Apple Bloom already say goodbye last night?”

“Well she didn’t,” he said. “But that’s not exactly why I’m here.”

“Then why are you here?” asked Apple Bloom.

The stallion sighed. “Apple Bloom,” he said. “There’s one thing I told myself I’d do after Applejack was gone. That was to take care of you.”

“But you heard Granny Smith, I—”

“I’m not gonna stop you.”

“Then why-”

“Cheerilee, I’d like to request to take the role of cart-puller for this year’s caravan.”

Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, and Spike were speechless.

Cheerilee rolled her eyes. “This is getting ridiculous. We can’t just have anypony who wants to go away for this thing! Besides, we need at least one of the Apples to help with the harvesting.”

“Not for a few months you don’t. We’ll be back by then, right Apple Bloom?”

Apple Bloom nodded sheepishly.

Cheerilee groaned. “I don’t think I could stop you if I tried.” She sighed and said, “Very well, welcome aboard...”

Apple Bloom’s eyes lit up. Scootaloo nudged her.

“This could get real awkward around the fire now, if you think about it,” she whispered mockingly. Apple Bloom sighed and shook her head.

“You’ve all said your goodbyes, correct?” asked Cheerilee suddenly. Everyone nodded. Spike just crossed his arms.

“Then we’re all set,” Cheerilee said quietly. “You’ll leave in just a few minutes, once your supplies are loaded.” She paused and smiled. “Good luck. To all of you. Ponyville will eagerly await your return.”

Cheerilee and Zecora nodded at each other, then left the stage. Sweetie Belle levitated the chalice they left behind over to the group.

“I’m saying this right now,” Spike insisted, “I am not the designated cup-carrier for this whole trip just because I have hands.”

“Well duh,” said Sweetie Belle. “Magic, remember?”

“I don’t know,” said Scootaloo. “Maybe we oughta try it, just once. It might get him more focus on the myrrh and less on the crazy.”

Spike growled at Scootaloo. “I am not crazy!”

Big Macintosh hopped his front onto the stage and tapped at Apple Bloom’s hoof. She glanced back.

“They aren’t gonna be fighting the whole time, are they?” he asked quietly.

Apple Bloom was about to respond when Scootaloo stuck her tongue out at the dragon. “Yeah probably,” she said cynically.

“Ready!” Cheerilee called from the far side of the cart. Apple Bloom sighed with relief as she hopped off the stage.

“All the armor and weapons are inside the bottom,” said Cheerilee. “There’s food in the sacks underneath the benches. There’s also a map inside one of the food bags. If you need to restock, just make your way to another town, understand?”

The three mares nodded in unison.

“Perfect. Now, off you go!”

Big Macintosh was already being fastened to the front harness with Spike’s help. Spike jumped onto the “driver’s” bench and whistled for the others. They piled in, Scootaloo first. Spike snapped the reins; Big Macintosh glared at him.

“I’ll let you know when I’m sorry,” said Spike.

The colt shook his head. He slowly started off, getting used to the weight with three ponies and a baby dragon added to the cart.

Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom stared out the back of the carriage at the light from the town’s crystal as they left. Sweetie Belle kept the chalice at her feet. Scootaloo restlessly looked around out the front.

“This is so cool!” she said. “This is gonna be the most fun we’ve ever had, right girls?”

Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom looked at each other, then nodded at Scootaloo.

“Got any songs to make this a little less boring, Sweetie Belle?” Spike called from the front.

“I think I have one, but I wrote it...”

“Well let’s hear it!” said Apple Bloom eagerly. Scootaloo smiled in anticipation.

Sweetie Belle nodded and cleared her throat. She didn’t have the heart to sing the saddening words, but she kept the tones intact as she sang. The words played in her mind, however, as the others listened intently. The beautiful sounds combined with the rising sun, promising good things to come.