Equestrian Blitz

by Calchexxis

First published 27th of November, 2012

A Hellsing crossover beginning just after the death of Zorin Blitz, who is now a pony.

Zorin Blitz died, but that wasn't the end. Some time later the former SS officer awoke in a ditch outside Ponyville with no memory of how she had gotten there or why she had escaped her eternal damnation. Regardless of that, Zorin refuses to give up, if she is breathing she will continue to live. Now she has a chance at living a different life.

Stripped of her vampirism she is thrown helplessly into an alien world where kindness and charity are commonplace, and violence is almost unheard of.

Will her sadistic ways find their way out again despite once again possessing a living heart? Or will she take the chance to live differently?

P.S. The cover image is unclaimed, I can't find the creator, if anyone knows who it is please send me a PM so I can credit them and/or take it down if they don't want it here.

Abschnitt Eins: A New World

Authors Note: For those who read this and disagree with Zorin's personality, remember that we don't actually know much about her. Not only that, for those who have read Hellsing entirely, you will remember that Alucard frankly admitted that vampirism turns you into a monster. It 'takes away your tears'. Zorin was a monster by her vampiric nature, but what about her mortal life?

All she felt was pain. Blinding, mind-numbing, sense-blasting pain. She knew what had happened. She had died in that last fight, but even worse? She had lost to that sniveling Hellsing draculina.

A thought penetrated the murky mire of her consciousness. If she had died then shouldn't the pain be gone? Unless she was in hell which would, given the circumstances surrounding her demise, make a lot of sense. This wasn't eternal hellfire though. It wasn't maggots eating through her belly from the inside or being endlessly devoured and digested by satanic beasts. It was, in point of fact, a very normal pain that she hadn't felt in a very long time. Quite simply, she had a migraine. Granted it eclipsed even the vomit-inducing normal variety but it was what it was. She was also uncomfortably damp and, unless she missed her mark, being rained on.

“Ja...” she muttered darkly as she began to open her eyes. Carefully, ever so carefully, she squinted, recoiling even at that smidgeon. “Gottverdammt!” She hissed as she clamped her hands over her... eyes... With an experimental waggle Zorin Blitz confirmed that she did not in fact have fingers, at the very least. Instead her arm ended in a tough bony appendage. This bothered her fundamentally. As a vampire she had possessed almost unparalleled regenerative capacity. Considering her migraine and fingerlessness that was no longer the case. Actually, if she were honest with herself, she already knew the truth.

She was no longer a creature of the night. She, Zorin Blitz, was mortal for the first time in over ninety years.

“Scheiße ...” she swore, pressing her face into the mud beneath her, “scheiße, scheiße, scheiße, scheiße, VERDAMMT!” She shrieked to the sky. Ignoring the stabbing pain as an annoyance in the face of this disturbing revelation she opened her eyes to survey the damage. The strangest sight greeted her, rather than bloody stumps, she found she lacked proper human forelimbs at all. In their place were hooves covered in muddy fur the color of charcoal. The pagan script that had been forcibly seared on to the entire right half of her body remained. That much made sense at least, whatever body she wore the flowing script would appear because it was etched into her soul. The rest of her body was similar, coal fur with a few scars left over from some of her more colorful engagements. Shaking a mane the color of soiled straw out of her face she slowly lifted herself up on all four hooves.

“Wunderbar, I'm in a ditch,” said Zorin bitterly. It was cloudy, raining, coming on evening, and she was in a muddy ditch by a dirt road. Life certainly wasn't rewarding her for her activities in her previous existence. “I'm a dirty kleines pferd in a ditch in zhe rain,” she muttered while climbing out of said ditch unsteadily. Moving on four legs was much harder than she had thought it would be. With some effort Zorin managed to escape the muddy defile and staggered onto the road.

Seeing water pooling in a pot-hole nearby she stumbled over to it, curious as to what other changes fate had wrought upon her. Zorin had retained her broad stature even as a pony. Thick slab-like muscle layered over a heavy bone structure. Her right eye was the warped caricature she had grown used to for which she found herself oddly grateful. Other than her spellscript she looked thoroughly unremarkable. She struggled to put a finger, or a hoof as the case may be, on what breed she ended up as. Eventually she settled on a Rhenish Cold-Blood. She snorted in bitter laughter as she suddenly recognized the unintentional irony of her choice. Still it was appropriate, she had once owned a Rhenish as a child a lifetime ago.

“Hey, you ok there?” A voice called out from behind her. A sliver of fear wedged into Zorins spine as it occurred to her that she was almost defenseless. For so long she had relied on the, now absent, overwhelming power of her vampiric body. Not anymore though. No more strength, speed, or regeneration, not even her beloved scythe. To top it off she couldn't even walk ten paces without stumbling, much less fight. In a moment of inspiration Zorin focused and projected a basic visual illusion, the runes adorning her right side vanished from sight. It took almost no concentration, considering her standard fare for using her abilities in combat, such a tiny effect was barely noticeable. This way she might at least be able to pass as a native.

“Ah, j-ja, guten abend,” Zorin desperately choked back the urge to attack the brown-coated pony before her and simply rob him. She had no idea where she was and needed directions, that and she barely knew how to move her own body. Focusing on the creature before her she took in his form. The pony had a mane that was graying covered from the rain by a straw hat, he was also wearing thick saddlebags. Other than that he seemed simple and harmless enough, little more than a peasant unless she missed her mark. “I-I am... lost.” The earth pony raised an eyebrow but raised his right forehoof and pointed the direction he had come from.

“That way leads to Ponyville,” he replied easily enough, “ya might be able to catch the innkeeper 'fore he closes up if ya hurry.”

Zorin bit her lip as she forced out the words, “d-danke, I vill do zat, auf wiedersehn .” He looked at her oddly but shrugged, muttering something about strange foreign ponies before walking past her. With the tense moment passed Zorin relaxed and began moving slowly in the direction he had pointed out. “Hurry, ja, as soon as I learn to walk, dummkopf,” whispered the transformed Nazi lieutenant bitterly.

Eventually Zorin got the hang of walking, it wasn't all that difficult once she nailed the rhythm of quadrupedal movement down. Aiming to make up for lost time she fell into a quick canter, then a full gallop. The name of the town was insipid and puerile, but if it had an inn with a roof and a warm meal she wasn't going to speak against it. Only as the town came in to sight did she realize she didn't have any kind of local currency on her. Not that she had exactly carried a visa back home. She was Zorin Blitz, she took what she wanted and killed anyone who looked at her sideways, or worse. Now she was broke, in the pouring rain, with hooves. Never before this had Zorin felt that karma could be a tangible force.

Finally she made it into town, the inn was easily found as most were, it had a simple sign with the carving of a hearth on it. It was odd, the towns architecture was very rural, it almost reminded her of her tiny home village in Germany. Thatched or wooden roofs with stone chimneys and... was that a house made out of a layered cake? “Das macht nichts,” Zorin said disbelievingly as she looked away from the garish monstrosity, discarding her previous comparison. At least the inn had an overhang that kept the front dry, Zorin thought blithely. She had slept in far worse conditions and under far worse circumstances than these. With a huff of effort she moved her limbs which had become leaden from the exertion and the cold. She slipped beneath the overhang, out of the icy rain, and folded her hooves beneath her, laying her head down.

“U-uhm, excuse me, are you ok?” a high, waifish voice with an almost British smoothness asked from above her. Casting a glance up Zorin saw a face that would, by pony anatomy she reasoned, be considered pretty. The mare had a dark green mane and a dusty white coat, her eyes were a very honest blue.

“I am growing tired of hearing that, ja, I am fine,” Zorin answered wearily before laying her head back down.

“Well... wouldn't you be more comfortable inside?” she asked, Zorin resisted the urge to plant her new hooves in the patronizing mare's face.

“Ja I would imagine, but I have no money,” Zorin said keenly after mastering her temper.

“Oh, I see... you speak very differently, may I ask where you're-”

Zorin cut her off with an irritated glare, “I am trying to sleep, it iz cold, raining, und muddy, how long do you intend to torment me?”

“T-torment?” The pony looked honestly horrified at the word.

Zorin flicked her tail, an strangely easy gesture, at the open window. “I can feel ze varmth of ze fire inside and it iz making ze cold out here zat much crueler,” Zorin explained spitefully. In truth, she was miserable. That curious mortal kind of miserable that didn't involve wrenching pain or torn limbs. It was a desolate combination of melancholic depression combined with an empty belly and a cold, hard bed.

Zorin heard the clack of the window shutting. Finally, the silly mare left her alone. If she was going to be miserable tonight the least she could do was try and sleep through some it.

Then the door opened.

“Gottverdammt,” she hissed, “vat now?”

“U-uhm, I just wanted to apologize, I didn't realize that-”

“You know you are doing it again, ja?” Zorin interjected, her voice dry with bitterness.

“Well yes, but,” the small mare let out a steadying breath, “I just wanted to invite you in, I can't give you a room but you can at least sleep by the fire.”

Zorin was stunned, suspicious, but stunned. The pony seemed to be sincere, nothing in her body language or demeanor gave a hint to anything but absolute honesty in regard to her offer. “V-vhy vould you do zat?”

“Well, because nopony should have to sleep in the rain,” she answered, finally meeting Zorins gaze properly. Clearly the creatures of this world were hopelessly naïve, or at least this one was. Still, Zorin was not going to turn down a little good fortune.

“If you are sure,” Zorin said carefully, still not fully trusting such blatant charity, “My name, it is Blitz, Zorin Blitz.”

“Oh that's a curious name,” she said before clapping a hoof to her mouth, “n-not that it's bad, it's just, unique, that's... uhm...” Zorin just stared impassively at the stuttering mare until she composed herself. “I'm sorry, that was rude, it's a pleasure to meet you Ms. Blitz, my name is Sweet Cup.” The dainty mare performed a curtsy despite possessing four legs, an act that actually impressed Zorin a little.

'And mine is the unique one? Perhaps all ponies had odd names' Zorin thought to herself, sketching a simple bow that was more of a stiff nod. Sweet Cup opened the door and gestured for Zorin to enter.

“You first, please,” Zorin said without expression.

“Oh, how polite, thank you,” Sweet Cup replied with a smile. In truth Zorin simply had no desire to give the strange mare an open line of attack to her back. The silly girl had taken it as a compliment though, Zorin thought. The reborn mare was almost unwilling to believe anypony could survive being that trusting. Zorin followed Sweet Cup into the inn and immediately had to resist slumping onto the floor in uncharacteristic gratitude for the warmth alone. A roaring blaze dominated the center of the inn with tables situated around it and a bar was in the back. Zorin carefully wiped her hooves and fetlocks clean of mud before entering. When she did Zorin realized that they weren't alone however, despite the lateness of the hour.

“Howdy Sweet Cup, who's yer... woah, yer a big'un,” a mare with an orange-cream colored coat and a mane of spun gold approached them from around the fire pit. She adjusted the stetson back so she could take in Zorin fully, sizing her up. 'Finally, somepony who isn't a complete trottel', the thought passed through Zorins mind with a curious sense of relief. The blind trust and charity she was encountering was so alien to that it was actually managing to unsettle her.

“A-applejack, that was a bit rude don't you think?” Sweet Cup admonished her apparent friend gently.

“Es ist gut, frau Sweet Cup,” Zorin said, “I do not take offense.”

Sweet Cup clapped both her front hooves together as her eyes widened, “Ah, that's why I thought your voice was odd, you're Germane!”

'Germane? Sind sie ernst?' Zorin thought immediately before, 'do not question it'. “J-ja, I did not think anypony here vould recognize...” she tried to explain, fishing for a plausible bluff. “I tried to speak your language but, at times it is difficult...” Zorin tried to look embarrassed. Of course she had no idea if she succeeded since the emotion was as far from her personality as was the sun from the ocean.

“What's a foreigner like yerself doing way out here in Ponyville?” Applejack asked curiously.

“The story is long and bl- b- boring... sufficed to say I am not velcome, nor able to return, back home,” Zorin didn't have to try and fake a look of nostalgic loss. As much as it galled her, she missed her old life deeply.

“And why is that exactly?” Applejack continued grilling Zorin, it actually made her inwardly smile. Finally, she thought, a pony that knew what the term suspicious meant.

“Applejack!” Sweet Cup exclaimed, cuffing her friend lightly on the shoulder, “that is not appropriate! She is my guest for tonight and you will show some manners.” Amazingly the stout mare looked backed off, looking embarrassed, and nodded.

“Right, sorry Sweet Cup,” she said before turning to Zorin, “sorry 'bout the twenty questions par'dner,”

“No,” Zorin said, feeling a little surprised at herself, “You are not wrong to ask, I am a stranger.”

“Well, that as may be,” Sweet Cup cut in, “But you are also, as I said, my guest, and as such entitled to a little privacy.”

“Dankechon,” Zorin said, it came a little easier this time. In her previous life Zorin would have laughed hysterically while drinking this poor creatures blood the moment they were in the door. Now however, she had nothing. No power, no money, no home, she didn't even have her own flesh and blood. It was astonishing to the former SS soldier what kind of good will could form when somepony gives something to one who has absolutely nothing.

Blood is ze currency of ze soul, ze vehicle of life. Having blood offered is a very different experience, zen taking it.

A few of Warrant Officer Schrodinger's last words to her before she was ground to a pulp by that upstart came unbidden to the mare's mind. Zorin felt that she was beginning to see what he meant. “Something offered hmm?”

“What was that?” Sweet Cup asked curiously, she and Applejack had been having a conversation that Zorin had been tuning out.

“Nothing, danke, for ze warmth of your hearth and ze velcome of your roof,” Zorin said, a very formal 'thank you' and one that had not passed her lips since she'd grown fangs.

“O-oh, uhm, you are very welcome,” Sweet Cup replied, wearing a radiant smile.

“Sweet was just tellin' me how ya'll are out'o bits,” Applejack said, “as it happens ah need some farmhooves to plow a new stretch'a field 'fore the spring rains really kick in, big feller like yerself could really lighten the workload.”

Sweet Cup gasped and hissed, “Applejack!” who looked at her in confusion, but Zorin waved a hoof dismissively.

“Zat vould be fine, I have vorked ze fields before,” Applejack brightened visibly at Zorins admission of previous experience. In truth it had been well over half of a century since she had last touched a plow but... some lessons never faded. There was more than one reason she had prized that old scythe so much.

“Dandy, ah'm glad to have ya aboard... uhm...” only then did Applejack realize she had never actually gotten the strangers name.

“Zorin Blitz,” the newly minted farmhand filled in.

“Righ', sorry, Zorin, nice ta meetcha,” Applejack said, wearing a real smile this time, and holding out a hoof.

“Und you as vell,” Zorin replied, shaking the proffered hoof, “Also, I am...” she was about to say woman but settled instead on, “a mare.” Applejack's eyes went wide and her face colored as she realized her unintentional gaffe. Zorin simply smirked, she had long since cast away any semblance of femininity in favor of combat prowess even before her rebirth as a vampire. Endless training, swinging that heavy steel scythe for hour after hour, had given her a great deal of unattractive muscle. Unattractive, but useful, much more useful than maintaining a svelte and girlish figure in her opinion.

“If your offer still stands, frau Sweet Cup, I will retire now,” Zorin said without turning to face her new host.

“O-of course, good night then,” Sweet Cup answered, Applejack was still blushing in shame.

“And...” Zorin began uneasily, as she turned just enough for her normal eye to meet Sweet Cup's gaze, “I vill purchase my next bed, I svear it.” Sweet Cup's features colored with concern but she didn't say anything, only nodding in assent to her guest's words.

Abschnitt Zwei: A New Heart

Zorin Blitz slept the dreamless sleep of the utterly exhausted. Fatigue was a feeling she had long since disregarded as an entirely mortal concern. Unfortunately, now being mortal herself, she was finding herself subject to its rigors. The long run through the cold rain had not been kind to her new body, a fact that Zorin became painfully aware of the moment she awoke.

“Scheißkerl...” she muttered as she opened her eyes and was assaulted, once more, with feelings of pain. “I have got to stop vaking up like zis.”

As soon as she awoke her muscles began loudly protesting. The embers in the fire pit were still warm. Zorin didn't have any desire to imagine how much pain she would have been in had Sweet Cup not shown her this small kindness. Suppressing a pained groan Zorin stood, and noted that the dawn had just barely begun to peek over the horizon. It seemed that, now that she was mortal, her mind had gone back to waking her at a farmer's hour. Determined not to take any more unwarranted charity, Zorin began fixing the fire pit for a new day. Despite lacking the advantage of being born into a pony body, Zorin Blitz was a soldier and therefore adaptable. She gripped the shovel in her mouth and began scooping the ashes into the bin beside the pit. Once that was done a few more logs were thrown on to began a small blaze to cleanse the morning coldness away.

“Zuch a mortal necessity, varmth,” Zorin said softly to herself as she surveyed her work with a strangely satisfied feeling. She had been careful, too many logs and the afternoon would be insufferably hot, too few and it would be a waste. The small amount of work had served a few other purposes as well. For one it had gotten her blood flowing, it had also alleviated the unfamiliar and unwelcome feeling of guilt, and it had provided her with fresh heat. Zorin had always associated such mortal needs with weakness, yet with that need came the visceral pleasure of fulfilling it. It was a far cry from the intoxicating rush of drinking blood but it was pleasant in its own way.

The sound of light hoofsteps above her interrupted Zorin's musings as a very sleepy-looking Sweet Cup made her way down the stairs. It brought a small smile to Zorin's face, it reminded her of Rip who, true to her name, was more like a ghoul than a zombie after waking for the evening. A small pang of loss strung unexpectedly through her heart. Rip was gone, killed by Alucard on the Eagle. Zorin did not make friends, it was not in her nature, but she had liked Rip after a fashion. The markswoman's shy and clumsy manner, love of German opera, and quirky nature had made her difficult to dislike.

Sweet Cup yawned daintily as she made the last step onto the ground floor. “G-good morning Ms. Zorin,” she said, stifling another yawn, rubbing her eyes clear of sleep. Only after she blinked a few times did she notice the state of things. “Oh! The fire pit is... thank you so much!” she turned to Zorin, beaming, “I kept telling myself I was going to clean that old thing but it's so time consuming that I never got around to it.”

“Nein, it vas nothing, I am indebted to you for your hospitality,” Zorin said, feeling a little uncomfortable with the mare's blatant gratitude.

“Not so, it would've taken me all morning to do it so cleanly,” Sweet Cup said earnestly and Zorin couldn't help but agree. She was familiar enough with the anatomy of beasts to know that this mare lacked any kind of real muscle. It probably would have taken much longer for her host to complete the relatively simple task than it had taken Zorin. “Well, since I seem to have my morning suddenly freed up, I'll make us some breakfast,” said Sweet Cup with a smile.

The mention of a home-cooked meal forced Zorin to remember how hungry she was. Growing up, money and food had not been plentiful so an empty stomach was not unfamiliar, which was probably why she hadn't noticed the feeling before. That and the fact that hunger for anything but blood had been absent from her needs for many decades.

“Ja, zat vould be... nice, danke,” replied Zorin, she didn't want to be any further in debt but she knew she would not get far without some kind of food. “Vhere is Frau Applejack's farm? I zuppose I vill need to valk zhere soon.

“Oh, it's quite easy to find, I'll write down some directions for you after we eat,” Sweet Cup replied as they entered the kitchen. “Would you mind starting up the cookstove?”

“J-ja,” Zorin said, surprised at the request but unwilling to deny the charitable mare. To her relief the stove was of the simple wood-burning variety, the kind Zorin remembered from childhood. Opening the hatch, she knelt down, tossed in some kindling, then went to work carefully igniting it. The two worked in companionable silence, Sweet Cup busy chopping vegetables for a stew.

After a few moments however the quiet was interrupted by Sweet Cup asking, “I'm curious Ms. Zorin, I was puzzling over it all night, may I ask what your cutie mark represents?”

The odd question made Zorin look up sharply and ask, “My vhat?” She followed Sweet Cup's gaze to her flank and saw the sharp and sickly-purple spiral that once adorned her right shoulder now represented on both of her flanks. “Scheiße,” she hissed under her breath, “Ah, z-zat, it is... personal, I am zorry.”

“O-oh, no problem, I was just wondering, I'm sorry if the question was out of line,” Sweet Cup said, painfully apologetic. Zorin was not enjoying the sudden mortal emotions she was forced to deal with, the look on her host's face actually made her feel... bad.

“Nein, it vas not your fault,” Zorin said,shaking her head as she stood up from the now-lit cookstove. “It is zomezing from my past.”

“I see, uhm, not to tread on personal ground again but,” Sweet Cup fidgeted for a moment uncomfortably before pressing forward, “for safety's sake I wanted to ask: can you see out of your right eye alright?”

That, at least, had been a question Zorin had expected, “Yes, I can zee fine do not vorry,” she answered with a disarming smile so the innkeeper wouldn't feel bad about asking.

“Ah, my oh my, but I must seem terribly rude,” said Sweet Cup, wearing a bittersweet smile, as she began dumping the vegetables into the now-boiling pot.

“Nein, you gave me varmth, und a roof. Now you are giving me food as vell,” Zorin listed off with a serious expression, meeting the innkeepers gaze. Zorin's eyes betrayed nothing, they were just dark pools filled with memories, “you are far kinder to me zen I deserve.”

“Now you shouldn't go and say things that,” Sweet Cup admonished, “you seem like a perfectly honest pony to me.”

'Clearly you are a terrible judge of character', Zorin thought privately. “I have done some zings I am not proud of, we shall leave it at zat for now I zink.” Curiously, Zorin found that there was no lie to her words. Looking back on some of the things she had casually done as a vampire made her feel ashamed. It was true, she was not at all proud of many of the things she had done. Zorin had campaigned alongside the Major for the sheer bloody love of it. No ideals or motives had guided her hand.

Zorin's tone was kind but brooked no alternative so Sweet Cup acquiesced, just as well, suddenly the quiet morning was broken by a loud knock on the kitchen door. “Oh! I completely forgot, Ms. Pie was bringing over a delivery a pastries this morning!” Sweet Cup gasped as she set aside her utensils and washed her hooves. “Come in Ms. Pie!”she called to the door which, true to the mare's trusting nature, was entirely unlocked.

The door was bumped open by a painfully pink flank bearing three balloons on it. Her tail was had the appearance of cotton candy and, as more of the mare was revealed, Zorin saw that the same was true of her mane. The new pony dragged in several colorful boxes, the contents of which smelled divine, which Sweet Cup took from her and set aside on the counter.

“Heya Sweet Cup, good morning!” the pink pony said brightly, Zorin had the painful feeling that this one was most likely an insufferable morning-pony. “And I told you, call me Pinkie Pie! Or just Pinkie! And also- OMIGOSH IS THAT A NEW PONY!?”

Zorin flattened her ears as Pinkie's voice suddenly skyrocketed several dozen decibels, she found herself relieved to see that Sweet Cup visibly flinched as well. Pinkie crossed the distance in the blink of an eye and was enthusiastically shaking Zorin's hoof before the former SS officer could even begin to deny her the opportunity.

“G-good morning Pinkie, uhm,” Sweet Cup gently prised Pinkie's hoof off of Zorin's, who was an unspeakable distance outside of her comfort zone. “I'd like you to meet Ms. Zorin Blitz, she's Germane, and, uh,” she leaned in to whisper, “not accustomed to sudden physical contact.”

Pinkie gasped cartoonishly, something that Zorin had the uncomfortable impression was not feigned in the slightest, “So you're from OUTSIDE OF EQUESTRIA?!” she shrieked, completely missing the point of Sweet Cup's words.

“J-ja, I am newly come to zis land,” Zorin said as she carefully inched away from the pink menace.

“Wow! That's so cool! Awwww, I wish I'd brought my party cannon and my welcome wagon,” she said dejectedly flipping between happy and sad so quickly it made Zorin's head spin. “Oh well! I'll just have to throw you an awesome 'WELCOME TO EQUESTRIA' party! Wow, I've never done one of those before.” Pinkie looked so excited about it that even Zorin couldn't find it in her to describe just how much she did not want such an event to occur.

“O-oh, z-zat is not necessary, I am very busy anyhow,” Zorin scrambled desperately for an out, “Frau Applejack has hired me to verk on her farm for avhile and I vill be very tired aftervards.”

Sweet Cup came to her rescue as she pulled out a few pastries from the boxes and offered them around. “How about you talk to Applejack first Ms... ah... Pinkie, after all, Zorin is a new hire and can't be coming to work exhausted because she went to a party.” Zorin silently mouthed, 'danke schön' to Sweet Cup who gave her guest a long-suffering smile and nodded.

“Hmmm, yeah I guess we can't have that, I don't want Applejack to be mad at me,” Pinkie said thoughtfully. Just how much actual thought passed between those pink and fluffy ears Zorin was unsure of but at least it seemed to have kept the problem at bay. For now anyway. “Alright, welp, enjoy the goodies! I gotta deliver a few more batches, nice meeting you Blitzy!”

Sweet Cup brought a single hoof up to her face and sighed, Zorin just nodded stoically, not trusting herself to open her mouth for fear of what might come out. “ I am so sorry about that Ms. Blitz, that was our resident party-pony and master baker, Pinkamena Pie.”

“Master baker? Zo she made zhese?” Zorin asked quizzically, holding up the colorful blue cupcake she'd been handed. “I had zhought her completely unbedarft,” she said frankly as she brought the baked good up to eye level. She studied the little baked good carefully, unsure if she should eat something made by a pony that she would have had sectioned on sight. Clearly Sweet Cup had faith in the pink one's abilities though and in spite of herself she was coming to like, or at least respect, the little innkeeper. So, cautiously, Zorin brought it to her mouth and took a bite.

That one act changed her entire opinion of the strange pink creature that had just literally bounced out of the kitchen. The pastry was soft, and so moist it melted in her mouth. The frosting was just light enough that the fluffy sweetness complemented the cake without overpowering it. Whatever localized anomaly served as the brain to the pony which Sweet Cup had called Pinkie was now immaterial. Her treats were simply incredible, in Germany, reflected Zorin, that pony would be hailed as a culinary genius.

“Zhese are ze most delicious cakes I have ever tasted,” Zorin said in disbelief through the concentrated delight she was eating. She stared at the bitten cake in her hoof in wonder. Sweet Cup laughed, a pleasantly light tinkling sound, and nodded.

“That's how most ponies react to Pinkie, both the pony and her pastries,” she explained whilst stirring the now-bubbling stew.”Please don't hold your first impression against her, Pinkie just honestly wants to make everypony smile,” Sweet Cup pleaded with a soft smile. “You know, Pinkie once told me that that was the whole of the reason why she had learned to bake in the first place.”

Sweet Cup's words hit a chord in Zorin's newly beating heart. The entire reason? Just to make ponies happy? To make them smile? That kind of logic simply didn't compute in the lieutenant's mind. Such a pure and honest purpose being the entirety of what drove her in life? And this simple cake Zorin was holding was the culmination of that desire. A part of her understood Pinkie more deeply than she had any right to.

These were almost literally made with love

The sweetness died in mouth as that thought fully formed. Suddenly Zorin felt sick, this tiny cake should be burning her hoof like holy water, she thought. There was even a very real chance that back in her world it might have. Vampires were corrupt in every sense of the word, that was why religious icons repelled them, they embodied pure faith. Zealotry might be blind but it was also pure, and that was painful enough. Zorin sat the rest of the cupcake down on the counter and wondered idly if swallowing that tiny bite would have killed her old body as surely as the police girl had.

“Please, excuse me for a moment, I vill be right back,” muttered Zorin tersely, her eyes cast to the floor. Without waiting for Sweet Cup's answer she left through the kitchen door.

Standing out in the cold morning are braced her as she fought back the overwhelming urge to throw up. “Zat zhing does not belong in my stomach,” Zorin croaked. She was gritting her teeth so hard she could hear it, her chest was tight with a feeling similar to rage. If only that were the emotion she was pushing back, she thought bitterly. “How can I eat zat? It should be poison to me,” Zorin said, her voice cracked and raw. Not once since she had first landed in this world had she more fervently wished she were still one of the undead. Soulless and heartless, taking pleasure only in the misery of others. Instead, however, she was alive. Even worse, she found herself fighting off the most unfamiliar feeling she had been subjected to since she awoke in that ditch.

Zorin Blitz, a formerly proud officer of the Nazi SS with more atrocities and crimes against humanity under her belt that most armies, was trying very hard not to cry.

Abschnitt Drei: An Old Memory

Sorry about the late update everypony. I had some company over today and couldn't get to work on this as soon as I would have liked. Anyway, we finally get a glimpse into Zorin's mysterious past, more to come I promise!

The morning was fully underway by the time Zorin found herself at Sweet Apple Acres. Just as Sweet Cup had said; the apple trees went on for miles around. She found herself with new respect for Applejack and her family. Maintaining such a large stretch of farmland was incredibly difficult. This morning had possessed some unique experiences which had given Zorin a great deal to think about as she walked the two miles to the farm.

“Truly I am a ztranger in a ztrange land,” Zorin said under her breath as she approached the large farmhouse. It was the kind of home she'd dreamed of living in as a child. The product of generations of work. Everything in this place was alien yet familiar to her on a level that was becoming genuinely unsettling. Nonetheless she was here and there appeared to be nothing she could do about that.

“Howdy there Blitz!” The orange mare from the night before approached her. Applejack wore a slight sheen of sweat that told Zorin she had been working just moments ago.

“Guten morgen, Frau Applejack, you said zhat you required verkers?” Zorin asked, more at ease with the down-to-earth farmpony than the others if only by familiarity with her line of work.

“Frau? Uh, ya'll can just call me Applejack,” the farmpony said with a hearty smile, “But yeah, got a big field to plow and less than a three days to do it in, so ah'm gonna be workin' ya'll ta the bone.”

Somehow the prospect only served to make the reborn mare smile. Physical labor was not only simple, it was something she knew. The barrage of emotions and thoughts that came along with that simple cupcake had deeply upset her, though she had not shown it during breakfast. Zorin had no desire to regale any of the ponies of this and with her exploits and being disturbed by a baked good would certainly raised questions. Now she was faced with simple and honest work, this she could do without question or reservation, and that was something she decided she needed.

“Das ist gut, I look vorward to zeeing if you can keep up vith me... Applejack,” Zorin said with a grin.

Applejack answered with a fiercely competitive smile, “Ah think you an' I are gonna get along jus' fine.”

“Applejack,” a deep bass voice came from behind her, a truly massive red stallion had somehow approached them without Zorin noticing. That was a little disconcerting, especially given his size. “Plows're lined up, seeds too,” he looked Zorin up and down, “New help?” he asked, his face an impassive mask of relaxed contentment. A week ago Zorin would've said he had the look of a simpleton, but now she could see that his eyes had the spark of true intelligence.

“Ja, my name ist Zorin Blitz, sehr efreut,” she said, holding out a hoof.

“Big Mac,” he drawled, and shook her hoof.

Applejack smiled as they shook hooves and said, “Blitz, this is mah big brother, he'll be plowing at the opposite end of the field.” Turning to her brother Applejack gestured to Zorin, “Zorin here is Germane, she just recently came to Equestria but she knows her way 'round a farm.”

Big Mac only nodded, a gesture so slight Zorin barely saw it. One might think him slow but to move so little with so much bulk bespoke a kind of constant control that made Zorin wary. He was smarter than he looked, probably stronger than he looked, and she got the distinct impression that he didn't trust her in the least. In her entire life Zorin could have easily named the few people whom she respected, Mac had just joined the illustrious list.

“Vhere shall vee start?” Zorin asked Applejack, with a grin that was as much a challenge as it was inquiry. Applejack answered by jerking her head in a 'follow me' gesture.

The field Applejack lead her to that they needed plowing was almost a two full acres of land. Zorin marveled at just how much sheer space the young mare's family owned. Her family had owned perhaps a fifth of this land to work and much was often left fallow because of their poverty. Taking a deep breath she noted that a heavy plow fit for a workhorse was set by the side of the field.

“I shall take zhis one zhen, ja?” Zorin asked, gesturing to the plow. It was old and beaten but showed the signs of many years worth of care and repair. A faithful implement of an honest worker, as her father used to say.

“That'll be fine,”Applejack answered, pleased at the new farmhoof's willingness to begin. “First thing's first though, ah'm gonna be out carin' fer the other groves, so it'll be up ta you'n Mac to get this done. If'n ya got any questions feel free ta give'm a holler.”

“Vater?” Zorin asked, causing Applejack to quirk an eyebrow.

“vate... Oh, water! Rain barrel's over there,” Applejack pointed out a large hoof-crafted barrel by the barn.

Zorin nodded and silently plodded over to the barrel, sniffed it to ensure its quality, then seized the small bucket beside it. With care Zorin gripped it by the handle using her mouth and dipped the bucket into the larger container, filling it to the brim. Then she sat on the ground, adjusted her grip to the nearer edge, and used it to give herself a good douse over the head. Setting the barrel down she gave her mane a good shake to spread out the moisture before turning back, sopping wet.

During the process Applejack's stare had gone from curious, to mildly impressed, to embarrassed, culminating in a soft red blush. Despite the mare's impressive body mass and stout musculature there was something almost exotic about her. Part of it was in her manner, she had an aura of distance and power that Applejack couldn't associate with a farmer. More aptly, Applejack likened her closer to a veteran guard or a career armspony. Certainly her body type wouldn't be out of place amongst the Royal Guards of Canterlot. Applejack still felt immensely embarrassed about confusing her gender, which Zorin had so blithely waved off. Even amongst the laid back earth ponies of her family it would have been a grave insult. Now though, while watching her new hire stretch lightly in preparation for the upcoming heavy labor, Applejack wondered how she ever confused the matter at all.

Mistaking the farmpony's gaze Zorin explained: “Zhe sun vill soon be overhead, I do vant to overheat.”

At that point Applejack realized she had been staring at Zorin for well over a full minute. She seized her stetson and pulled it low to hide her blush of embarrassment which had returned with reinforcements. Mac on the other hand had mimicked his new partners action, soaking his own head and mane.

“A-ah know tha' o'course, ah was jus' surprised ya'll did,” she muttered, her eyes darting sideways, trying to find something less interesting to focus on. She snorted out a derisive laugh, “Ah can't tell ya how many farmhooves I've had collapse on me, all 'cause they didn't listen.”

“Vell, I am vell avare of the dangers of heat,” Zorin explained as she made her way over to the plow that had been readied for her. “In ze summer, vhere I am from, it vould get very hot und very dry.” In spite of having hooves Zorin found herself enjoying the familiarity of the plow's mechanisms, hooking and latching the bits and buckles. “Ah, bitte, could you lock zhe final latch on my back Applejack?” Clearly the act of hooking up this plow was intended for two ponies, Zorin thought. There was no physical way she could bend her forelegs back far enough to secure the last buckle.

“Uh... Y-ya, no problem sugarcube,” Applejack replied. Resolutely denying the need to blush yet again, Applejack seized the buckle and pulled it taut.

“Ja, zhat is fine,” Zorin said as it reach an adequate level of tightness without becoming uncomfortable. Applejack secured the strap and backed away with an almost indecent haste, immensely glad that the new hire had her back to her.

With the plow finally strapped on correctly Zorin began a regimen of flexing and adjusting her body, carefully noting how each subtle movement affected the plow. Satisfied with that she was capable of properly maneuvering it, Zorin hitched it up slightly for ease of movement, and dragged the heavy weight over to the field. With a grunt of effort she moved her shoulders again and let the plow dig into the fresh earth. “Zhis vill be interesting,” she muttered as she dredged the ground, turning new soil over new soil. A small smile crept onto her face as the familiar motions and sounds of ground being plowed in expectation of new crops filled her ears.

Applejack simply continued to stare, although for an entirely different reason this time. Usually it took two ponies to both properly latch and secure the plow, not to mention moving it to the field. Yet, this new mare had nearly managed the entire job alone. Clearly, Applejack thought, she had not been joking when she'd claimed to be experienced. Applejack had originally thought she would've been pleased if even half of the new land was ready by weeks end. Now that may very well have changed.

“We might actually do this,” Applejack said out loud.

“Eeyup.”

Applejack turned to Big Mac who had just finished his own stretches. “Ready to get that plow on Mac?”

“Eeyup.”

The two siblings walked silence for a time, once the new hire had passed out of earshot however Big Mac opened his mouth.

“Ya'll like'r,” he stated casually, causing Applejack to miss a step and stumble forward a few paces before righting herself.

She pulled her stetson down again as she grumbled, “T-that's not... well, ah mean she's nice an' all but...” Applejack's train of thought was careening wildly down the rails as she scrambled for something to say. Eventually, honesty won out just as it always did in the orange farmpony's case, and she said, “y-yeah, ah guess so...”

“Mm,” Mac grunted around the perpetual bit of straw poking out of his mouth, “why?”

“Ah know ah jus' met'r but, ah dunno, somethin' about 'er jus'... clicks? Ah dunno,” her voice was forlorn and Mac's expression softened.

Since their parents had passed just after Applebloom was born Big Mac had ended up as much a father figure as a brother to his precious sisters. As such he was twice as protective, but also twice as susceptible to their expressions of sadness. Still, he knew full well that Applejack didn't really have anypony her own age who understood her. Oh the other five girls were great friends but none of them were farmers like Zorin clearly was. Outside of immediate family Applejack had nopony she could talk to about the farm without having to explain a half-dozen extra things. Certainly no other mares. Even in their own family most of the farmers were the colts, the few other mares were generations apart or lived dozens of miles away. Maybe, he thought, just maybe, it might do her some good to have another lady around the house who knew her way around the farm. Even her friends often remarked on how stubborn and foolhardy she could be, and such a friend might be good for her. And if Mac were being honest, Zorin's calm and exact demeanor was very similar to their late grandfather and their late father. Perhaps his own as well, and there was nothing bad about her that he could actually put a hoof on. He didn't trust her but, in fairness, he thought, he also didn't know her. With that in mind he turned back to his silent sister.

“Supper?” said Mac with the ghost of a smile around his eyes.

Applejack brightened up at the word and smiled, “tha's a good idea,” she answered, “ah'll tell granny ta set'n'cook fer one more!” At this point they'd reached the plow on the other end of the field. Applejack hastened to quickly secure the buckles properly before helping Mac drag the it to the starting point. Mac smiled as his sister dashed once the task was done with a 'see ya'll tonight' and set about working the stretch of land.

As the two farmers left Zorin to her own devices she found herself enjoying herself, much as she had thought she would. The hard work was a welcome burn in her muscles that she hadn't felt in ages. The heat of the sun, a feeling she had long since forgotten, lay pleasantly on her neck. Zorin knew it would fast become hotter but by that time she would have worked up a protective sheen of sweat against the sun's worst heat. However, it also left her with much time to think.

Looking inward and dwelling upon herself was yet another new and unaccustomed action she associated with mortals. Vampires did not think upon themselves or philosophize upon their natures. They were monsters, plain and simple. It was something she had liked about the state. No questions, no guilt or remorse. Zorin had known exactly what she was and had reveled in it. Not anymore though, and the confusion that welled up at that sentiment infuriated her. With a grunt of effort she poured that fury into the plow, digging fresh furrows in the earth to mark her anger along with her passage across the field.

“Vhat am I ekzactly?” Zorin asked out loud.

“Ya'll look like a pony ta me,” a tiny bell-like voice answered.

Zorin blinked at the intrusion, gazing to her left, without turning her head or changing her momentum, she observed a tiny filly walking alongside her. She was so small she barely came up to the lower-middle of Zorin's chest, and her coat was a pale olive color. Her mane was tied with a large red bow that matched her mane and she had wide, curious eyes the color of the sunset.

“You are Applejack's younger zibling, ja?” Zorin finally asked. Her new employer had not mentioned additional family but given the size of the house she expected a few. From Zorin's own experience, several generations of family usually lived together.

“Tha's right!” she exclaimed with childish volume, “Ah'm Applebloom! Pleased ta meet'cha Miss... uh...”

Zorin actually smiled a little, the drastic similarities to her sister would've made the relation obvious even without her guess. “Lieu-...” she began to recite her rank out of habit before catching herself and amending: “Zat is, my name iz Zorin Blitz.” The ex-lieutenant considered herself fortunate that she hadn't misspoken in front of Applejack or her brother. She suspected it would not have been let go so easily if that had been the case. The little, however, seemed perfectly able to let it go and continue with her questions.

“Tha's a weird name,” she said frankly, “And ya'll talk kinda funny.”

Zorin barked out a harsh laugh, and retorted “Zat may be true but to my ears you zound ztrange as vell.”

Applebloom laughed along with her, “So where're ya'll from?”

“Very far avay, you vould not know it,” Zorin said vaguely, as they strayed onto a subject she wanted to avoid.

“Well, why're ya'll here?”

Zorin pondered how to answer that question as she reached the end of one furrow and began the arduous process of turning the plow to begin anew. Of course this had another effect on the young filly.

“And what the hay happened ta yer eye?”

A grimace settled on Zorin's features. That was most certainly not a subject she wanted to discuss. Especially with a filly. After all, she had likely not been much older than the little one when she had lost her original eye.

Nein... Oma bitte! Nimm's nicht, Oma!!

Zorin grit her teeth, she could still feel the old witch's fingers digging into her face as she screamed. The feeling was stark and hateful, she had eventually re-payed the devilish creature in kind for the torments it had inflicted on her. There was one valuable lesson that came from her years as a slave though. That witch was the first to teach her that monsters are very real. She turned out of her memories and back to reality to regard the young one who had first broached the subject.

Applebloom had apparently caught on to her distress and moved away, worry starting to tinge her eyes. Letting out a calming breath, Zorin mastered her temper and put on a reassuring smile as she faced the filly.

“Apologies, fräulein, I did not mean to frighten,” Zorin said softly, “It vas not pleasant, vhat happened to my eye.”

“O-oh... ah'm sorry miz Blitz,” Applebloom seemed so earnestly contrite that Zorin couldn't help but smile again. “S-so... you're blind in that eye then?”

“Nein, I can zee quite vell,” Zorin answered.

Applebloom puzzled over that response before finally asking, “But ya'll said somethin' happened to your eye.”

“It did, but zhis is not my eye,” Zorin said with a diabolic smirk.

Applebloom's eyes went wide as saucers at that remark, “S-s-so... who's e-eye is it?” she asked, trembling.

Zorin's smirk widened to show teeth as she said in a sinister voice, “after I lost my eye, I tore out a demon'z to replace it.”

Applebloom gasped and stared, mouth agape as Zorin laughed raucously. Eventually Applebloom's look of horror turned to one of childish anger.

“Ah, I am zorry little vone, I could not help myzelf,” Zorin said, real humor in her smile now. Applebloom wavered a little before being replaced with a wide grin as she joined the laughter.

Zorin didn't have the heart to tell Applebloom that her little joke had not been altogether untrue.

Abschnitt Vier: An Old Song

Celestia's sun was trending downwards by the time Rainbow Dash flew in to Sweet Apple Acres. It didn't matter how many years she had been flying, the feeling of the high winds flowing over her body was as intoxicating as ever. Passing over a new stretch of farmland that had yet to see any sprouts she saw Big Mac working the plow, on the other end of the field though Rainbow saw another pony she didn't recognize.

“Huh, guess Applejack got found that extra help she was looking for,” Rainbow said to herself as she adjusted her wings, slowing her velocity and dropping altitude as the farmhouse came into sight. “Now where the hay is... ah, there you are,” having spotted the farmpony herself Rainbow picked up speed again and soared over to her friend's side.

Applejack smiled as the cyan pegasus pulled to a hovering stop in front of her. “Howdy Rainbow, what can ah do ya for?”

“Uh, you asked me to stop by?” Rainbow said with a questioning smirk.

The orange earth mare blinked a few times, visibly searching her mind before planting a hoof on her face. “Ah, darnit, tha's righ', sorry 'bout that Dashie, ah've been real busy what with tha' new land ta plow.”

Rainbow dropped to the ground with a shrug, “hey, no big, gotta break in the newbie too huh?” she replied, giving Applejack a friendly hoof bump.

Applejack's face colored lightly before she coughed and shook her head, “heh, actually ah lucked out, tha' one didn't need a lick'a trainin', already knows farmin' as well as me'r Mac ah reckon.”

“Wow, luck is right,” Rainbow said with a wry grin, “so what was it you wanted me to swing by for? I'm losing valuable napping time y'know.”

“Well tha's just it, ah think we might actually get the whole darn field plowed ahead'a schedule,” Applejack explained. The one part of farming that the farmpony could expect her flighty friend to catch onto instantly was the weather bit of it.

“Oh, seriously? Guessing you wanna see if I can get you some early rain huh?” Rainbow asked, mildly impressed.

“If ya'll can do it then mah family might be able ta turn a profit on that land in record time,” Applejack explained hopefully. She looked so hopeful in fact that Rainbow couldn't help but agree.

“Well you can count on me Applejack!” she exclaimed, puffing her chest out. “I know I saw a report somewhere about some wild rainclouds floating over the Everfree.”

“Woah there sugarcube, ah don't want ya'll in danger fer a few drop's o' rain y'hear?” Applejack replied, concern painting her features at the word 'Everfree'.

“Eh, don't worry about it, I've got this,” Dash answered dismissively. “Tell ya what, I'll double check that report and bring them in two days, sound good?”

Whenever Dash talked shop it was straight and to the point, unlike every other conversation which inevitably steered onto flying or the Wonderbolts. Or both, as was more often the case. Applejack nodded her cautious assent though, she trusted Rainbow to be careful. For all of the rainbow-maned pegasus's bluster she really was one of the most competent weatherponies in Equestria.

“Alright then, thank ya Rainbow Dash, ah really owe ya one,” Applejack said, truly grateful for all the good fortunate she'd come across.

“Nah, what're friends for?” said Dash freely, “anyway, you can pay it back at the bar.”

Applejack laughed as Rainbow lifted off again, “Ah'll do that, fer sure, thanks again sugar,” the two friends clacked their hooves together again in farewell. With that Rainbow took off for her next appointment. Most likely with a soft cloud for some quality nap time.

After watching her friend vanish into the sky Applejack sighed and turned back to her work. She had been pruning and maintaining a particularly troublesome grove, but with that done she decided to check up on Zorin. The walk across the acres took about twenty minutes but when she eventually reached the edge of the field the oddest sound struck her ears.

Singing.

Even more amazing, from where she could pick out Zorin's charcoal coat among the field, it was clear that the mare's work for the day was already done and then some. She appeared to be nonchalantly plodding along, pulling the plow as though it were nothing. Sitting on top of the plow, however, was a tiny filly.

“Consarnit Applebloom,” Applejack muttered under her breath as she began to move towards them. Then the wind changed and she could hear their words.

“Nein nein, it iz; 'gib mir deine hand, deine weiße hand' dai-nah... vai-za.”

“What the hay is a hand?” came Appleblooms tiny voice, saying the word like 'Hohnd'.

“It meanz hoof,” was the reply.

“Oh, well why not jus' say hoof?”

“It iz a different langvage, now, from zhe top.”

Zorin's strong basso voice harmonized with Applebloom's childish soprano rather well as they began.

Heute wollen wir ein liedlein singen,

Trinken wollen wir den kühlen wein.

Und die Gläser sollen dazu klingen,

Denn es muß, es muß geschieden sein!

As they moved into the refrain Applejack could only stop and listen. In the short time she had known her knew farmhoof she had never once imagined the mare could sing. This was clearly a song from her homeland and it had such a sound of camaraderie to it. It was almost enchanting and, although she couldn't understand it, the music got her blood moving quickly.

Gib' mir deine hand, deine weiß hand,

Leb' wohl mein Schatz!

Leb' wohl, mein Schatz, Leb' wohl.

Lebe wohl,

Denn wir fahren, denn wir fahren,

Denn wir fahren, gegen Engeland,

Engeland!

Applebloom followed admirably considering the foreign nature of the song. In fact, Applejack was pretty sure she wouldn't have managed it as well. It was clear the two had been working on those verses for some time. Applejack stomped her hooves a few times in applause which which got the attention of the two performers. Applebloom grinned widely but Zorin look almost mortified that someone had seen them. It was the very first time Applejack had seen the stout mare display any kind of abashment at anything.

“Applebloom, what did ah tell ya 'bout botherin' the help?” Applejack chided her sister as she hopped down from the plow.

“It vas fine Applejack, your zister vas just curious,” Zorin said in the small filly's defense.

Applejack shook her head though, “it ain't about bein' fine'r not,” replying to Zorin before turning back to her youngest sibling, “it's about doin' what'cher told.”

“Ah'm sorry Applejack, ah just wanted ta meet'er,” her face was so downcast that Applejack couldn't help rolling her eyes. Her sister knew exactly how adorable she was and was milking it for all it was worth.

“It's fine sugarcube, jus' do as yer told next time,” Applejack replied, knowing full well that would never happen. Returning her gaze to Zorin, who had finally stopped moving, she said, “thank ya kindly fer all yer help Zorin, an' fer entertainin' this little terror here.”

“Nein, it vas my pleasure, she is qvite clever, zhis vone,” Zorin answered with a shrug, “she reminds me of Irma.”

“Who?” Applejack asked, curious. Zorin had become silent though and she was staring off into nothing, her face had gone slightly pale as she subjugated the rising tide of emotion.

“N-nein, just... my zister,” an indescribable shadow had crossed over Zorin's face that discouraged Applejack from asking any more, though she sorely wanted to.

“Oh, ok well, ya'll're actually more'n done fer the day,” Applejack said, changing the subject. Zorin nodded her assent and began unbuckling the plow harness. “A-actually, ah was jus' wonderin' if ya'll would like to stick around fer supper.”

This made Zorin look up in surprise, “I could not impose, you already provided a meal for lunch...”

Applejack shook her head at that though, “No way, tha's part'o the deal when somepony is workin' for me, lunch is on me,” she explained. “But ya'll actually got a lot more done than I thought so, ah'd be honored if ya'll would stay as mah guest.”

Zorin was almost becoming tired of the sheer good will these ponies seemed prone to, still, she could not turn down her employers gratitude. At the very least in her own country such a thing would have been seen as similar to spitting on a proffered hand.

“Ja, then I shall, danke,” Zorin finally replied after a moment of hesitation.

“Perfect, 'cause ah might've already sent a note ta Sweet Cup that ya'll'd be stayin' the night,” Applejack admitted in an embarrassed tone.

“Zhe night? Nein, I am zorry Applejack but zhat is far too much,” Zorin was now beginning to feel insulted. She had vowed that she would take no more charity and this was stepping beyond the bounds of simple gratitude.

Seeing Zorin's growing ill mood Applejack began waving her hoof, “A-ah didn't mean... it's just tha' if we're gonna finish this field, then tomorrow we'll need to start with the dawn.” Zorin's glare didn't abate though and Applejack felt almost cowed by it. She was clearly no soft hoof when it came to intimidation. “Look, ah know how ya feel, ah didn't mean ta imply ya'll couldn't make yer own way. If ya'd like, ya'll can pay me rent for the room, ah'll just charge ya Sweet's normal rate.”

That did the trick and, at least for the time being, Zorin's glare abated but the bitterness of her reaction didn't fade quite so quickly. “Zhat vould be... satisfactory,” she responded after mulling it over.

Applebloom hopped back over to Zorin and smiled, “Don't worry too much mizz Zorin, mah sister can be a little dense sometimes.”

Applejack was about to chew the precocious little filly out yet again when she was interrupted by Zorin's harsh barking laugh. “Ha! Sie vielleicht richtig sein! I vill zit next to you, I zhink, at supper. If zhat is permissable?” she directed the last words to Applejack who was wearing an expression of blatant relief.

“Ya,that'd be just fine,” she replied, for once glad of her young sisters mouth.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Supper was a sumptuous affair, corn on the cob, both scalloped and mashed potatoes, and a hearty vegetable stew. Granny Smith had joined them, despite her age she was a deft hoof in the kitchen stemming from decades of dedicated practice. Zorin stared at the spread with undisguised wonder.

“Unglaublich, do you eat like zhis every night?” she asked Applejack as they sat down.

Applejack shrugged, “Fer the most part, though Granny cooked some extra since I told'er ya'll'd be joinin' us, why?”

Zorin fiddled with the odd utensils to buy herself some time to think, in the end however she settled on the truth. “My family vas... very poor, zhere vere zome nights ve had nothing to eat at all.” She explained in a low voice so only Applejack could hear her.

“O-oh... ah had no idea tha'... uh,” try as she might Applejack couldn't find any words to speak. Even when times were at their worst there had always been food on the table. Maybe not always as much but nopony ever went to bed with an empty belly. “Well, that ain't the case no more,” Applejack finally mustered, “ya'll're here and yer gonna eat ta yer hearts content.”

“Ja, danke schön,” Zorin said quietly.

“So then, miss Blitz,” Granny Smith cut in with her wavering voice. “Ah hear ya'll're Germane, and a farmer to boot, is that right?”

Zorin nodded politely as she spooned herself some stew, “Ja, my family vas all farmers, for over a hundred years.”

Granny let out a low whistle, “Well, that makes yer family 'bout as old as ours, may ah ask why ya'll left the farm?”

Applejack flinched a little but didn't say anything, she knew how Zorin felt about speaking of her past. Zorin answered, though, saying: “Zhat is... complicated... zhe short of it is; zhere is no more farm.” That much was true at least, soon after Zorin had 'left', the Great War had begun. The ensuing carnage and trench warfare had torn her family's little plot of land to shreds.

“Well, ah'm sorry ta hear that, Celestia knows we've been in some tough spots ourselves,” Granny sympathized with Zorin, she knew firsthoof how hard keeping a farm could be. “Durn near lost the farm a few times.”

Zorin nodded and dinner became a more somber affair for a while after that. At least until Applebloom piped up, saying “So mizz Zorin taught me a song!” which made Zorin laugh softly into her stew.

“Zhat I did, your grand daughter picked up zhe language qvite quickly,” Zorin admitted, Granny practically beamed. They were then treated to Applebloom stumbling over the words, with Zorin occasionally helping or correcting her pronunciation until she got it right. At the end the family, Zorin included, was clapping their hooves together in applause and the youngest daughter was grinning broadly.

“So wha's tha' song about?” Applejack asked after Applebloom had finished and everypony had stopped clapping. Zorin pondered over how to explain it. She couldn't very well tell everypony that it was a song about war. Chances were they would've noticed if another country had taken up arms.

Eventually Zorin settled on, “It'z a soldier's farevell song, 'leb wohl mein schatz', in ze refrain, means 'good-bye my darling' in your langvage.”

“Ah thought it might be somethin' like that, it had that kinda sound to it,” Applejack replied as she dug into another helping of potatoes. Zorin was actually a bit surprised, since this new world seemed so achingly peaceful. The idea that they were familiar with war was a little gratifying.

“So, enough about the past, what're ya'll plannin' on doin now that yer here?” Applejack asked once she'd swallowed.

For all of its simplicity, that hadn't been one of the questions that Zorin had been prepared to answer. The truth of the matter was that she had no idea. She was in a strange land with no allies, she didn't know the history or even the layout of the world. She was little better than a newborn in terms of common knowledge in this place. Yet, somehow, Zorin found herself unable to lie about it. Perhaps it was because this scene was so familiar to her. A table with food and family, laughter and songs. It was something from a memory of a dream.

“I do not know...” Zorin said softly, as she put away the last of her meal. “I have been vandering for zo long that I no longer know vhere I am destined for.”

“Well, if tha's the case then feel free to stick around Ponyville as long as ya please,” Applejack said with a smile filled with genuine warmth. “This farm always needs steady hands, especially with the new land.” Before Zorin could protest at what seemed like another act of charity Applejack held up a hoof. “Now hear me out. To be honest, this farm is jus' gettin' too darn big for me'n Mac ta keep runnin'. Every season ah'm havin' ta hire more an' more farmhooves just to get by. It'd be nuthin' but good business sense ta hire somepony on permanently. Especially if it's somepony tha' can handle a plow without cuttin' off a darn leg.”

Zorin nodded, no matter how she looked at it Applejack had a point. She had seen the size of the farm and if this table consisted of the entire family then they must be at their wits end. “Zhen... for now at least... I vill verk for you, but I do not know how vell I vill fit in to zhis town.”

“If Big Mac can fit in, then you can,” Applejack responded dryly.

“Eeyup.”

Zorin smiled as she helped then pick up the dishes and pack up the leftovers. “Danke,” came her soft reply. After business was concluded they finished dinner amongst much more light-hearted conversation. Once the cleanup was finished Applejack nodded to Zorin to follow her.

“Yer room'll be upstairs, tha' alrigh' with you?” she asked, gesturing to the stairwell.

“Ja...” she answered as she followed her new host to the second level. “A-applejack, I do not zuppose you have a bath?”

The farmpony blushed, “consarnit, ah'm a fool, ah didn't even think... 'course ya'll can take a bath, Mac uses the downstairs one but us girls got one ta ourselves.”

Zorin let out a sigh of relief, a part of her had worried that they lacked that particular feature of indoor plumbing. Having lived with that before, she had no desire to return to it. “Zhat vould be wundarbar, danke.”

After being shown her room Zorin immediately made for the bathroom. After running the water scalding hot until the bath was full she tossed in a bar of soap and tentatively slipped in. Immediately her muscles went slack and she let out a sigh of pure pleasure. “Zhis... I have missed zhis...” she muttered as she relaxed in the hot water. For a few moments she simply luxuriated. During her endless days as a soldier such amenities were non-existent. Not that she required them as a vampire unless it was to clean the gore off of herself. The simple mortal pleasure of soaking in a hot bath was something that, even during the wars, she had found herself missing on occasion though.

“Perhaps zhis vill not be zo bad after all,” Zorin said as she sunk her head beneath the water.

Deep in the Everfree a darkness awoke. It slithered across the floor of the forest, a formless shadow. Where it touched, the plants wilted and the animals died. Their life extinguished by the hungry thing that only now began it's slow progress. It looked like nothing so much as a moving patch of illimitable darkness.

But darkness did not hunger, and the hunger of this nameless thing had no end.

Abschnitt Funf: An Ancient Spell

Please don't hesitate to comment below! I really do love hearing what everyone thought about the latest chapters.

Zorin slept very well. Something she had not done in ages since vampiric sleep was not what one could call 'refreshing' in the classic sense. It was too mechanical which, on a metaphysical level, made a great deal of sense. So for much of her existence Zorin had simply closed her eyes, when she laid upon the dirt of her birthplace, and then opened them again several hours later. Not until waking up at the crack of dawn in her soft new bed in the Apple family's farmhouse did she appreciate how different waking up mortal was. She yawned cavernously and stretched, relishing the feeling of her joints popping and the muscles and tendons flexing. Light was only just beginning to peak over the far hillside and the smell of fresh coffee was wafting up through the timber floorboards.

“Coffee,” Zorin whispered longingly as she remembered the dark black elixir, and kicked off the covers. Her one unexplainable quirk as a vampire was that she had still drunk coffee. Flavored with blood of course so she could keep it down. She had loved the bitter taste of it as a mortal and it had remained as a vampire. She couldn't explain it, nor did she try. The last lower officer to question the matter immediately underwent forcible dental reconstruction courtesy of her scythe. No one bothered asking after that. Now she was mortal again, it was a perk she hadn't even considered, because finally she could drink it black again.

Zorin had just finished making her bed, a military habit she had never grown out of, when a knock came at her door. The charcoal mare opened the door to reveal Applejack carrying a tray with two steaming mugs of black heaven on her back.

“You are var too good to me Applejack,” Zorin said with a sleepy grin, and stepped out of the way to allow her host entrance. As the farmpony passed Zorin swept one of the cups up and brought it to her mouth. Grasping with hooves was surprisingly easy as they had a slight suction effect which, when combined with some pressure, made them more simple than hands.

“Aw shucks, don't sweat it, figured ah'd give ya a proper g'mornin,” Applejack answered as she tipped the tray onto the desk and grabbed her own mug.

“Vell, danke, it has been var too long zince I have had such excellent coffee,” answered Zorin as she took another grateful sip. It was scalding hot and black as coal, but the deep, rich flavor of the liquid sent electricity along her nerves. As odd as it seemed, it was only just then that Zorin truly remembered that she was alive.

“Somethin' the matter sugarcube?” Applejack asked, seeing the suddenly pensive look appear on Zorin's face. But the mare just shook her head with a small smile.

“Nein, just zhinking how different my life has become,” came the reply, Applejack shrugged but remained quiet, so Zorin continued. “I feel as zhough my life has come full zircle, I vas a farmer, zhen a... a traveler, and now I am back to being a farmer.”

“Well, Granny always says, 'We always end up in the places we're meant to be, no matter how many trips we make on the side.' Or somethin' like that,” answered Applejack. Zorin laughed softly into her coffee before taking another sip. She wondered how true that really was, and a part of her truly hoped that she were meant to be here, as a farmer.

As the thought crossed her mind Zorin furrowed her brow. Did she really mean that? No more vampirism meant no more eternal life, no more strength, speed, or regeneration. For a moment it struck her as incredibly incongruous, how much she had changed. A week ago her sadism and bloodthirst had been legendary, and yesterday she had taught a child how to sing a song. The thought made the coffee taste like ash. Just how much of her life had been a lie? She had thought she had enjoyed her time as a vampire but really she'd been a dog enjoying the act of chewing on a bone. It had been mindless and transitory for all of its supposed eternity.

“Vhat am I really?” Zorin asked herself almost inaudibly. Applejack perked her ears up at the sound though.

“What was that sugar?”

“Oh, nein, I am zorry, I vas lost in thought, apologies,” Zorin said as she came back to the here and now. With another shrug Applejack accepted her new friend's words

“So didja like tha' book?” Applejack asked. Before she had gone to bed Zorin had asked Applejack if she could borrow one of the old books from downstairs. The title on it in fading script was 'A History of Equestria', and had intrigued her. It seemed like a safe enough source to fill in some of her blanks without tipping anyone off. Zorin had explained it away by saying that, being from abroad, she had little knowledge of Equestrian lore. An entirely true statement in and of itself. She had been startled to discover that magic was almost commonplace since an entire third of the population was composed of unicorns. Zorin vaguely remembered seeing some as she had passed through town but she had been focused on not getting lost so she hadn't spent any time sightseeing. Even then she had simply assumed the horns were meant for combat, certainly not as foci for magical powers.

“Ja, it vas enlightening, especially zhis sun goddess you vorship,” Zorin said as she took another drink.

“Celestia, she's a nice gal, not anythin' like those other noble types,” the nonchalance with which Applejack spoke of a supposed deity nearly made Zorin inhale her coffee.

“V-vait, you zpeak as zhough you have met her,” she said as she tried not to choke.

Applejack tapped a hoof thoughtfully before answering, “Yeah, ah guess not many ponies could say they've met her huh? But one'o mah closest friends is her student so she comes by every now an again ta visit.”

Zorin stared, her heart had turned to ice as thoughts churned through her head. If Celestia possessed even a fraction of the power that those stories had hinted at she could be a great deal of trouble. “Z-zo she is not actually a goddess?” Zorin asked hopefully.

“Ah got no clue, she's a Princess though, along with her sister Luna and her niece Cadence, and ah do know she's one of the only Alicorns,” Applejack explained, wracking her head for details. “Y'know, ta be honest, yer better off askin' Twilight Sparkle, she's the unicorn librarian here in town and Celestia's student, if anypony'd know it'd be her.”

Zorin was torn between her desire to know and her desire not to come into contact with a unicorn powerful enough to be student to an immortal sorceress. Eventually her need to know won out though, Zorin reasoned that remaining in the dark was probably worse than risking a visit. Besides, if Celestia's student was really a close friend of Applejack's then Zorin would undoubtedly meet her face to face eventually no matter what.

“J-ja, I vill do zhat vhen ve are done for zhe day zhen, if zhat is fine,” Zorin said, finding herself in a much more worried mood than she would've like.

“That'd be fine, now then, we gotta get some breakfast in us so we can start the day!” Applejack exclaimed as she got up and made her way out. Zorin followed, her mind filled with thoughts of coming face to face with a vengeful solar goddess.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The work was more uneventful than yesterday, tiring but satisfying, and Zorin actually ended up feeling better about the whole business by the time she left the fields. Applebloom hadn't visited, she'd been off at school then, immediately following her return, she'd left to meet up with some friends. Something about 'going crusading'. They had made good progress that day and Applejack had let her go a little early on account of the excellent time she'd made the yesterday. The walk from the Acres to Golden Oaks Library was uneventful, mostly because she didn't need to pass through the town to get to it. Apparently it was formed out of a living tree which made it both noticeable and not very easy to build due its irregular shape. The magic of this world seemed so benign in comparison to her home. Her own Arts couldn't be described as such on the best of days. Inactively malignant was the best Zorin could come up with on short notice.

On that note, Zorin found it incredibly curious that only unicorns were purported to possess magic. On earth those lacking inborn talent had a host of other, usually less savory, sources to turn to. Zorin wondered if her suspicions on the matter were correct, but saved her musings for her meeting with the Librarian, assuming all went well. She was still worried about meeting somepony whose power was enough to attract the attention of the nations ruler. Even ignoring the fact of godhood, attracting the notice of any powerful political figure on ones own merit was difficult enough. Had Applejack not been the one to inform her of the librarian's status she would has assumed the mare was lying. Applejack, however, was as honest as they came and, in Zorin's experience, the most difficult ponies to lie to were the ones who already knew what honesty sounded like. Zorin's thoughts were cut short as she approached the library however.

“Huh, she vas not joking, es ist ein baum,” and rather than being carved out of a tree it seemed more like the tree simply grew around a library. Steeling herself, and reinforcing her illusions, Zorin approached the tree and knocked on the door.

Then she knocked again. For good measure she even waggled the doorknob, which was locked.

Then a small voice from inside said, “Twilight, somepony is at the door.”

“Uh-huh,” came the reply.

“...”

“Twilight, you need to stop reading and answer the door,” the voice said.

“The what?”

A long suffering sigh sounded from within and two small feet, tipped with claws if Zorin wasn't mistaken, approached. The wooden door opened and a small purple and green lizard appeared staring at her fetlocks. His face slowly moved up to her face with a whistle. “Wow, you're huge.”

“SPIKE! That's rude!” A sparkling purple miasma of energy latched on to the small lizard and lifted him up. “Hey, you're the one that left him standing there on the steps!”

The lizard vanished with a yelp over the shoulder of a purple unicorn grinned uneasily, “ahahahahaa- Shut up Spike,” she growled before turning back to Zorin, “I'm sorry, welcome to Golden Oaks, I'm Twilight Sparkle, the librarian.”

Zorin smiled, feeling she had clearly been worried over nothing. “Nein, may I come in?” she asked to which the unicorn blushed and backed up, allowing her to move into the building.

Once she was inside she heard Twilight hiss from between her teeth, “Spike she is a mare.”

“What? No way.”

“It ist true I'm afraid,” Zorin answered loudly. The lizard and his mortified owner looked up to see Zorin looking at them both with a small but playful grin.

“Ah... I am SO sorry ma'am,” she starting nudging Spike with her back hoof, unsubtly urging him to leave in case the customer took offense. “My assistant is a little slow sometimes.”

Zorin, however, shook her head, “nein, I know vhat I look like,” she said easily, “bezides, familiars are rarely of high intelligence, I am zurprised you taught zhat vone to zpeak at all.”

“Hey!” came Spike's reply.

“Wait? What's a familiar?” Twilight asked, quirking an eyebrow up.

Zorin felt the blood drain out of her face, 'clearly I need no help sabotaging myself' she thought bitterly as she scrabbled for some kind of explanation. “Ah... you zee... vhere I am from...” come on, Zorin, come on, “magical ponies vill sometimes... use small animals such as...” she remembered the old witch, and her little crawlers, “rats or... lizards, to aid them.”

About half way through her explanation however she had completely lost her audience, Twilight's eyes were growing wider by the second. For a moment Zorin was afraid she'd failed utterly and was about be blow apart before...

“OMIGOSH YOU KNOW FOREIGN MAGIC?!” Twilight practically shrieked into her ear. And she had thought Pinkie was excitable.

“J-ja... bits und pieces,” Zorin replied with an uneasy grin, feeling the conversation steering in an entirely unwanted direction. The librarian was already staring with wide and gleeful eyes however. “Zhat is, I could not te- AH!”

Somepony had somehow mistaken Zorin's tail for the doorknob and pulled vigorously on it. Without thinking Zorin's left back leg kicked up and collided with something that issued a high-pitched 'EEP' and tumbled backwards, striking the ground with a muffled 'thump'. Turning around Zorin saw a pastel yellow pony, a pegasus judging by her wings, sprawled out in the yard with a book sitting squarely on her face. Clearly the petite mare had not been watching where she was going when she had made it to the door. With a sigh Zorin marched over to the prone figure and picked the book off of her face.

“Are you okay Fräulein?” Zorin asked a trifle loudly in case she had rung her bell harder than she'd thought. Fortunately that didn't seem to be the case as the mare stirred and opened her eyes... to stare directly into Zorin's and fill with abject terror. Then, with the most curious bleating sound, the pegasus went totally rigid and folded over.

“Oh no... not again,” Twilight's voice came from behind Zorin, “sorry about that, Fluttershy is, uhm, very easily frightened.”

“Zhat is qvite clear,” she answered, thinking that the phrase 'Easily Frightened' did not nearly do the matter justice.

Twilight surrounded the unmoving mare in that same purple miasma and lifted her up, taking her into the library. “Wow,” came Spike's voice, “usually it takes at least a conversation before she goes catatonic.”

“She mistook my tail vor zhe doorhandle,” Zorin replied as followed.

“Oh, ouch.”

“Ja, vill she be alright?”

Twilight nodded as she sat Fluttershy down on her couch, “Oh yeah, she has very frail nerves but she's stronger than you'd think.”

“Sie müsste,” muttered Zorin sarcastically as she closed the door behind her. She felt a little bad though, it occurred to her that once she would have found the terror pleasing. Such was no longer the case though. She turned back to be greeted by Twilight's wide grin and bright eyes.

“So, where were we?” she asked. Zorin groaned inwardly and facehoofed, she had almost dared to hope that mess with the pegasus had distracted the studious mare but to no avail.

When she looked back up though she saw the mare studying her carefully with her head cocked to one side. Uncomfortable with such scrutiny Zorin backed up a little as Twilight closed one eye and stared, then the other, and stared.

“V-vhat?” Zorin asked, a growing fear rooting into her heart.

“Well it's just... I don't know it's like...” Zorin never found what it was like though because suddenly Twilight's brow furrowed. The 'careless bookmare' expression vanished from Twilight's features and turned instead to one of anger.

“Hold still,” she commanded and before Zorin could open her mouth there came a blinding flare of purple light and a thunderclap from the tip of the librarian's horn. A powerful surge of magic fell across Zorin like a waterfall, blanking her mind for a moment.

When Zorin opened her eyes she saw Twilight backing away with a mixture of fear and fury painted on her face. “Scheiße,” Zorin whispered, and looked down at her form. Sure enough the telltale blurry edges on the right side of her body were gone meaning her tattoos were in full view.

“Who are you and what the...” Twilight grappled for some kind of word to describe the headache-inducing marks on the black mare's flesh but failed utterly. “What the HAY are those?!”

“B-bitte... ah... P-please do not, I am zorry, I should not have hid zhem but...” Zorin tried to find an explanation that would fit the occasion but this was just about the worst case scenario short of the goddess herself being present.

“I need to tell my teacher, now.”

“Scheiße,” Zorin hissed “Please do not!”

“Spike take a letter! Dear Princess-”

“Schau mir in die Augen!” Zorin's words rippled the air in front of her, wrapping around Twilight and Spike and pulling their gazes towards her own. Her Hexenauge had caught them off-guard completely, and now they were trapped.

“W-what are you-”

Zorin's right eye glowed with an unearthly light. Her runes were lit by corpsefire as her tongue began rolling over arcane syllables, dragging out the powers that her Oma had stitched and scarred into her flesh. Zorin felt her heart wrench with every forced word. This was not how she had wanted it to end.

“T-twilight? What's happening?!” came Spike's terrified voice.

“I'm so sorry Spike, I-, I can't-” Twilight gasped, unable to tear her eyes away from the swirling vortex of power coming from the black mare's eye. She couldn't even form her thoughts together enough to form a spell before it all flew apart into that Eye.

Zorin fought the tightness in her chest, the guilt, they surely thought she was going to kill them. She pressed onward though, letting the scripts, letters, and runes leak from her skin and crawl over the walls like sentient insects. The two poor creatures in front of her, caught in her illusion that would give her enough time to escape.

“Forgive me, please,” Zorin said softly as darkness closed around Twilight's mind. She was begging for the first time since she had been a tiny child in the witches hovel having her eye torn out. “I vill give you happy memories.”

Darkness overcame the unicorn and her assistant and, once she made sure they were entire enraptured, Zorin bolted out of the Library at full gallop. Overhead it had begun to rain.

Abschnitt Sechs: An Ancient Soul

Zorin wasn't running away. This much she had fixed firmly in her mind the moment she bolted out of the Library. She just needed to buy herself some time. Zorin had no illusions about what she deserved, if the matter came down to being vaporized by a vengeful sun goddess she wouldn't put up a fight. Not that she could have even if she wanted to. That didn't matter though, what mattered was getting to Sweet Apple Acres before the unicorn or her assistant snapped out of the trance she had put them in. The landscape blurred past her like river of color, her muscles screamed in protest but Zorin knew she couldn't lose even a second. Her heart leapt in relief almost at the same time that it sank out of grief when the ruby red barn came into view. This was most likely her last night here, probably her last night alive, but she knew exactly what she was going to use it for. Fortunately her target was just outside pulling an empty wagon up to the building.

With a heave of effort Zorin surged forward with a last burst of speed, coming to a skidding halt in front of her friend. Maybe the only friend she would ever make.

“Applejack,” Zorin gasped out, her lungs burning as she gulped down air. The farmpony turned with a concerned expression on her face that immediately changed to one of shock as she took in Zorin's appearance.

From the left she looked as normal, but now it was as though Zorin had been divided in half. Emblazoned on her forehead was a five-pointed star, and covering almost every exposed inch of skin on her right half were thousands upon thousands of characters. Some were recognizable, some barely looked like they could be called hieroglyphs. Applejack worked her mouth as she tried to take in the inexplicably drastic changes wrought upon her friend's body but she was stopped by something else; the look in Zorin's eyes. They were bloodshot and strained, it looked almost like she had been crying.

Finally Zorin got her breath back, “Applejack, forgive me, but... ve need to talk.”

“W-wha...” Applejack searched for words to convey her confusion but faltered, Zorin didn't let her finish anyway.

“Please, I beg you, listen to me, I do not know how much time I have,” the gravitas in Zorin's voice put the rest of Applejack's questions on hold. She nodded and gestured silently to the barn. The mares entered just as the rain began to fall in earnest.

“Guess Rainbow Dash pushed those clouds in a bit early,” Applejack said with force nonchalance before turning back to Zorin. “Now, what the hay is goin' on Zorin?”

“First, promise me you vill hear me out,” Zorin gaze and tone shook Applejack a little but she nodded.

“My name ist Zorin Blitz, you know this, but vhat I did not tell you is that until shortly I vas known as Lieutenant Zorin Blitz.”

“Lieutenant? You were a soldier?” to be honest it didn't surprise Applejack as much as she had thought it would. Zorin had that kind of bearing, but the black mare shook her head bitterly.

“No, I vas a monster,” she half-barked “und I have done zhings zhat vould make your blood run cold,” her voice was almost dripping with self-hatred. “I vas less zhan a beast.”

“Ya'll're gonna hafta forgive me if ah can't picture ya like that,” Applejack said sternly to which Zorin laughed harshly.

“Look at me, my skin is marked with vitchcraft and spells used to tear open the minds of others,” Applejack paled at her words but Zorin continued. “But zhat ist not vhy I am here, I came because... you're friend discovered zhe spell I had used to disguise my marks-” Applejack's eyes registered shock but Zorin interjected quickly. “Do not vorry, I harmed nopony, I only delayed her from alerting her teacher so I could come here...”

“Why?” Applejack asked. There was no recrimination in her voice, just a simple question heavy with meaning.

Zorin felt the beginnings of tears leak from her mortal eye as she told her. “Because, you are zhe only friend I have, und you deserve to hear my sins from me. Not from zome notice in zhe papers trumpeting my execution.”

“E-execution?” Applejack's mouth fell open at that word. As far as she knew capitol punishment didn't even happen in Equestria, not since the Princesses had come to power. Not for a thousand years had a pony been sentenced to death.

“Your land is bright und full of kindness, it vould be better if one zuch as I were kil-”

Applejack's left hoof came out of nowhere, landing a blow that left Zorin sprawled out on the floor with her face numb. “Don't. You. DARE. Finish that sentence. Y'hear me?” Zorin looked up into Applejack's eyes in shock, there were tears there. Zorin had seen many tears in her time. Tears of pain, of revulsion, of fear and terror. Never before had she thought she would see tears shed on her behalf however.

Rising to her haunches, Zorin nodded and massaged some feeling back into her cheek. “I vill not tell you of my time as a zoldier, you do not vant to know... but about zhese,” Zorin motioned to the markings on her skin, “I vill tell you.”

Applejack didn't move, she simply waited.

“Vhen I vas a child, my family vas so poor zhat ve could barely survive. I had seven siblings, und I vas the youngest, Irma vas the second youngest, only a year older. Vone vinter the seasons had been cruel, ve had no food and did not know how ve vould survive.” Zorin could see the pain in Applejack's eyes, the sympathy, thankfully she did not see any pity. “Ve vere starving, my brothers, und zisters, my vater und mutter. Irma died virst, she vas alvays a bit veak.” Applejack brought a hoof to her mouth and bit softly, fighting back tears. Losing a sister hit far too close to home for her. If she had lost Applebloom to such a terrible fate... she had no idea what she would even do. “Zhen... vone night, an old crone came to our door. Mein vater answered, zaying harshly, 'Ve have no food old vomen, leave us!' but the crone answered, 'I do ask for food, but offer it.” Zorin fought back the repulsive memory even as she continued forward, “she said 'I vill give you a zpell zhat vill see you through zhe vinter, but in exchange... you must give me your youngest daughter.” Applejack's jaw dropped. A family starving was bad enough, but trading away a child for food was unthinkable. Zorin snorted bitterly, “I zuppose you can guess, it took my vater only zhe time needed to cross the house to grab me und toss me to zhe old crone. She zmiled, und handed over a charm, explaining that vhatever field he buried it in vould bear food quickly no matter zhe season.”

Applejacks eyes widened at that, as a farmer she knew what a god-send such a spell would be. Still she had to know so she asked, “W-why would she give up a spell like tha' fer a kid that weren't hers?” Applejack would've traded a dozen of those amulets for any of her family but to take away some elses? Never.

“Zhat you do not know vhy is a blessing und I zhall not tell you. Only know zhat by zhe time I escaped years later she had torn out my eye und stitched... these...” Zorin lifted her right leg, “ into my skin vith a red hot needle.”

If it were possible for Applejack to turn even paler than she was, she would have. It was no less than torture, and as it was the farmpony had to fight back the urge to vomit. “S-so is she...?”

“I returned vhen I vas older, by zhen I vas already a monster, und murdered her vith a scythe,” Zorin said coldly without meeting Applejack's eyes. A chill ran down the orange mare's spine but try as she might Applejack couldn't find it in her to so much as admonish Zorin for the act. “My vorld got darker und darker from zhat time on, I did terrible zhings vith the power zhat vas forced into my skin by zhat hag. I vanted you to know vhy your friend broke my spell und threatened me. Vhy I vas forced to wrap her in memories zo I could get here before she turned me in.” Tears finally began to come in earnest now that the story was out and off of her chest. Not even the Major had known the entirety of her past. Hot water spilled fast down the left side of her face, the only one that could shed tears was now shedding enough for both. “I'm zorry... Applejack, please... I- I am zo zorry, forgi-”

Zorin's words were cut off by a pair of lips pressing hard onto her own, her sobs cut short by an undignified hiccup of surprise. Applejack was wearing a fierce blush that, for once, she didn't try to hide with her stetson. In a voice rich with emotion she said, “Look sugarcube, ah don't know what all happened to ya, I don't know what ya'll've done, or why ya think yer a monster.” Zorin opened her mouth to try and explain but Applejack lifted a hoof to forestall any more argument. “But ah can tell ya I know an good'n honest pony when I meet one, and ya'll've got real good in yer heart.”

“A-applejack I...” as much as she had wanted forgiveness Zorin had never imagined anyone, or anypony, would give it. “D-danke...” was all Zorin could manage before laying her head on her friend's shoulder. Zorin had thought that she had run dry of tears long ago in that horrible hut in the forest. It was almost a relief to learn that this was not the case. That there was something human left in her soul after all the pain she had and death she had caused.

There was nothing left to say after that, Zorin could only wait until judgment came, and she didn't have to wait long. Several moments later a voice rang out from outside of the barn. “She's in there Princess!” it was the voice of the Librarian. Zorin couldn't even find it in her to hate the little unicorn for ruining everything. She knew what she deserved and was ready to face it.

“Danke, Applejack, for everyzhing,” Blitz said softly to the orange mare whose eyes were filled with fear. Not for herself but for what punishment might await Zorin outside of the barn. Zorin took a deep breath and leaned in, giving Applejack what might be the only kiss out of simple love she could give in her entire life. With that done the black mare left the barn and stepped into the rain, in front of her was a horned and winged female pony that towered over even her. Her coat gleamed like arctic snow and a royal, golden crown adorned her brow. The Princess' eyes widened slightly and became unfathomable as Zorin stepped fearlessly into view.

“That's her Princess, the one who-”

“Be silent Twilight Sparkle,” the librarian's words cut off out of sheer shock. Twilight didn't even need all her hooves to count the number of orders Celestia had given her. That, however, had been no less than a direct order.

Zorin stood steadfast under the implacable gaze of a goddess. Even from here she could feel the absolute light that was barely contained within the alicorn before her. Their eyes met briefly but in that moment Zorin felt her soul laid bare and shame filled her. No fear though, she deserved death and more for her actions. Finally the white alicorn's gaze softened immeasurably and Zorin felt as though her muscles had just gone slack. She gasped, her eyes on the ground. She hadn't even realized she had been holding a breath.

A single gold-shod hoof touched her chin and lifted it with surprising softness to return her gaze to the goddess'. Celestia's eyes contained no anger or judgment, no hatred, only an aching sadness that was as vast as the ocean. As unexpected as her expression was, however, her words were even more so.

“Heavenly mercy child, what has been done to you?” Twilight's rocked back on her hooves in shock at her mentor's words. Zorin on the other hoof, had begun to tremble. For the first time in her miserable life, Zorin Blitz understood what the words 'Mother's Love' meant. It was the name for the emotion in Celestia's voice.

“W-what?” Twilight asked in wonder, “what do you mean?” No longer angry, Twilight was now more concerned than anything. For her teacher to show kindness and sympathy to her subjects was common, but to show such blatant emotion was very rare. It was a side that only Twilight had ever seen on any kind of regular basis.

Celestia regarded her student with soft eyes, “Twilight Sparkle, this poor pony has been tortured beyond the limits of most. What little you seen on her body is bad enough, but the scars inflicted on this one reach into her very soul.”

“S-scars on the soul? How does that even happen?” finally Celestia showed true anger, no, Zorin corrected herself as she looked closer. This was better described as 'Wrath'.

“By the absolute blackest of magics,” Celestia growled, even Zorin felt the urge to back up. “Somepony used magic to scar spells into your soul, am I correct Miss Blitz?” Zorin nodded, not trusting her voice in the face of divinity. “And how old were you?”

Mustering up her courage Zorin answered, “N-nine years old, your majesty.” The look of horror on Twilight's face would have been almost comical if it hadn't been for the seriousness of the conversation.

“Nine. Tell me, the one who did this, are they dead?” Celestia asked coldly, Zorin nodded again. “Too bad, I would have liked to have taken such a blasphemy out of their hide.”

Twilight could only stare dumbfounded at the Celestia. Not in her entire life had the young student imagined her mentor capable of such a cruel tone. Not that Twilight disagreed. “M-magic did that?” she asked her teacher softly.

Celestia nodded, “Yes, I'm afraid so, magic of a kind which I outlawed in the same year that my sister and I came to power.”

“I zhought zhat vas zhe case,” Zorin said quietly.

Twilight turned to the black mare, blinking in surprise, “Why?” she asked, honestly curious.

“Because, zuch a clear lack of knowledge of any kind of magic but inborn talent, zhe most controllable and predictable kind, zpeaks of centuries of violent zuppression,” was Zorin's answer. Twilight, her mouth gaping again, turned to her mentor for a denial but dropped onto her flank at the goddess's frank nod of assent.

“That is the case, my sister and I hunted down every last practitioner to prevent this very outcome from ever happening again.”

“W-wha' kind of outcome is tha' exactly Princess?” Applejack had finally emerged from the barn. After seeing Celestia's kindness she hadn't wanted to interrupt but now she wanted to know. Celestia sighed, the sound of wind over the mountains, and answered.

“Foals possess a magic all their own, the blackest of magics can turn that magic to the casters benefit but only by doing unspeakable things to the child in question.”

Zorin nodded, she had not wanted Applejack to know the details of the matter but... “She took my eye to make a charm vith, to zee her enemies coming before zhey reached her.”

“But th-tha's...” Applejack didn't think a word existed for the kind of wrongness that implied.

“Not to qvestion fortune or... providence... but vhat now?” Zorin asked, meeting Celestia's eyes again. For a moment the sun goddess look pensive.

“For all the horrors inflicted on you, I know that you have inflicted many in turn,” Celestia answered, Zorin made no move to deny anything. “But... I also have seen a spark in you, a small possibility for redemption.”

“V-vhat?” Zorin asked in disbelief.

Celetia nodded, “So, with that being the case I cannot rightfully deny you the chance to make up for the sins you have committed, I would be betraying both my throne and my divine responsibility.”

“Zhen I... I can...” the ex-officer couldn't bring herself to say the words for fear of jinxing herself.

“You may remain, on the condition that somepony agree's to take responsibility for your actions and for teaching you how to behave in my kingdom.”

Zorin working her mouth searching for something to say but Applejack intervened. “That'll be me yer highness, don't you worry.”

Celestia gave a radiant smile and nodded. “Good, while your sins must be paid for I will not deny the effect that black magic has had on your soul. It may ease your conscience to know that such powers permanently taint those it comes into contact with. However, for a reason I do not yet know, that part of your soul has been divorced from you.”

“Zhat... vould explain much,” Zorin answered, almost trembling with relief. She had never anticipated such an outcome. She expected death, or life imprisonment at best. But to be given a second chance was more than she could have possibly expected. Turning to face Applejack as a free mare she pulled the orange mare into a tight hug, nuzzling into her neck in a surprisingly affectionate gesture. “Danke, Applejack, for everyzhing.”

With an embarrassed blush and a laugh Applejack patted Zorin's back, “Anytime sugar.”

Celestia coughed lightly into her hoof, “Well, now that that's cleared up, I have some royal duties to attend to. Keep out of trouble Miss Blitz.”

“Ja, I svear it,” Zorin promised.

“I believe you,” Celestia answered with a mysterious smile, before giving a strangely knowing look at Applejack and winking.

Applejack pulled her stetson down over her face.

“Zo, Twilight, uhm... zorry about zhe whole... spell... zhing,” Zorin found apologizing was coming easier to her.

Twilight shrugged, “It's ok, sorry about the whole... sudden dispelling, I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. If Celestia say's you can stay then that's all I need.”

“Zo how did you get out of it so qvickly?” Zorin asked curiously, as the three mares turned back to the farmhouse.

“Oh, right, Fluttershy woke up and snapped me out of it after she realized I was unresponsive.”

Zorin grimaced, “Ja, I knew forgot zomething.”

For the first time in her life Zorin enjoyed the feeling of sharing a laugh with friends. It was a first unsteady step, but it was one she never thought would be open to her. As she walked into the farmhouse she found that she didn't miss her old life even a little.

The coiling darkness in the Everfree felt the winds change. It could taste the power of this world, but first it needed a body. A host with darkness to shelter within. Then it could begin.

This is where I'm ending the first story but if people really enjoyed it I will probably end up doing a second one. I'll also probably do an epilogue or two as well so there is more coming. I may take a little longer on that though as I'll need to figure out the segue into the second part. Anyways, thanks to everypony who stuck around to read this weird story I ended up writing.