Six friends. Six trees. Only some say there was a seventh. Seven is the number of all things, after all. But of the last tree nopony speaks, for in its infinite gleaming facets hides the secrets of its sisters. Its magic is a special thing, a free thing. And it must be guarded.
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Old Applejack and the gals, they were the first. The beginning. And though their deeds and their names will echo throughout eternity, it is Applejack of whom the earth ponies speak.