Harvest
In the distance, hills. Gentle slopes, covered in grass. Flowers, spots of white, yellow, red, blue on a tender green canvas. Trees, like giants above the small plants. Brown and furrowed, rough bark. Branches stretching in the air. Green leaves, like fingers trying to grasp the light falling on the ground.
Red amongst the green. Little spots of opposing colors. Apples. Red, round, shiny. Dozens of fruits on every tree. Dozens on trees on every hill.
A hole in the endless sea of greenness. Dry branches, without leaves, without fruit. Brown, dead wood, ready to fall. One sapling at its foot, brand new leaves and branches turned towards the sun.
High above, blue. The sky, adorned with a few white clouds, tufts of wool floating in the wind. Between the clouds, the Sun. Bright, brilliant, white. Pure. A flawless diamond hanged in the air, halfway between its zenith and the horizon, drawing shadows on the landscape. At the foot of the trees in the dense orchard, small spots of brightness dotting the overall darkness.
A tall peak in the background, incredibly steep. High spires and slim towers hanging from it. The gleam of sunlight on white walls and golden roofs. The dance of light through waterfalls.
On one side, another hill, more apple trees. Brown trunks, green leaves, but no red. No fruit hanging from the branches.
A path of raw dirt snaking through the plantation, clear brown curves in the green of the grass. A few stones here and there. Three ponies on the path, their backs turned to the orchard.
One mare. An orange coat, like the flesh of a ripe melon. A blond mane, a similarly colored tail, two sheaves of wheat goldened by the sun. A red band holds the strands together. On her haunches, three images of apples, red and shiny, each with its little green stem and leaves. More apples, real ones, piled in the wicker baskets hanging from her sides. Two red pyramids emerging from a desert of orange sand. On her head, a hat, brown and worn. Under the hat, two eyes, closed and framed by clear freckles. A mouth, wide open in a big, laughing smile showing white teeth glinting in the sun's rays.
Ahead, a filly. Pale yellow, like hay. A uniform color on her whole body, no picture on her flank. A raspberry-colored tail. A mane of the same tone, floating freely in the air behind her. Stretched out legs, in the middle of a galloping stride. A mouth opened in a shout. Furrowed eyebrows above a pair of amber-colored eyes, fixed on...
A dog. White and brown, fur mixing both. Nuts and cream. Two eyes, black and glinting with intelligence. Legs folded under her belly, in the middle of a jump above a branch fallen across the path. In the dog's maw, a wide pink ribbon, a bit of it spilling off both sides.
A little further behind, a stallion. Vivid red. Beige hooves contrasting with his coat. A clear orange tail and mane, both cropped short. Oranges and strawberries. Covering most of his flank, the picture of a green apple, cut in half. A large brown collar around his neck. Two shafts tied to the collar and connecting to a cart : simple wooden planks, four spoked wheels, also wooden. On the cart, barrels filled to the brim and spilling more apples.
On the stallion's body, beads of sweat, dark traces in the wet fur. On his face, clear freckles. Drooping eyelids almost hiding a pair of green eyes, turned towards the youngest pony. A stoic face, lips closed around a sprig of wheat. Almost invisible, a discreet smile.
Behind the ponies, on the border of the path, an apple, half hidden in the grass. A reddish, furry head peeks out from behind a tree. The fox's eyes are locked on the fruit. One paw is held in the air, ready to act.
Further down, at the end of the path, a large wooden building. A white wooden fence all around. A few bales of hay. Walls the color of a well ripe cherry, crowned by a clear violet roof. White frames making a contrast around the doors and windows. On the walls, a few decorative patterns. Black lines, curves, loops... apples. Above the entrance, a sort of small tower springing out of the roof, like a bell tower. A weathervane at the top of the small pointy bit of roof. Hanging at every window, planters filled with flowers. Geraniums, tulips, begonias. Red, yellow, pink.
Where the walls and the roof meet, making a straight angle, something like a small lump of dirt is stuck. Only a tiny hole to access the inside. A swallow's small, feathery head peeking out of the opening.
In a corner, on the forefront and away from the barn, another hill. No trees on this one, only grass. A few flowers at the top. Cut flowers, carefully deposited there. Pink chrysanthemums, gathered in several bouquets. Towering above each pile of flowers, a gravestone. Chips and cracks on some, inscriptions barely legible. A bit of moss on the base. Two stones more recent than the others, clearer and less worn. More flowers under these than the others. On one of the flowers, a butterfly, a yellow pair of wings poking out of the petals.
In front of the farm's door, a rocking chair, occupied by a green mare. A mane and a tail both tied in a bun and perfectly white. Pistachio and milk. On her flank, the picture of an apple pie. Next to her, a real apple pie on a windowsill, ready to be eaten. Around her neck, an old orange handkerchief with a pattern of red apples and a lace border. The eyelids are almost closed in front of two brilliant eyes, a clear orange in color and turned towards the three ponies on the path.
A wrinkled, but warm and satisfied smile.
Author's Note
I've always admired people who can actually paint. I can't do anything properly with a brush, a pencil, charcoal, chalk or anything. Stick figures are too difficult for me and my handwriting is barely legible, so I had simply accepted the fact that I would never paint.
That was stupid. I had only been going at it the wrong way... All I needed was a thousand words. Maybe it's not pretty, maybe it's ridiculous, but it doesn't matter. I can paint.
Forge
Crystalline walls. Rough and unpredictable angles. Light glinting and reflecting on every facet. Higher, black. Soot. Thich layer on the brilliant surfaces. An open window near the top of the wall. A piece of blue sky. Thick gray smoke escaping towards the outside. Light and shadows, smoke, clouds, half-hidden sun. Bright rays stopped, absorbed by the filth. Rays dancing on clean edges, shining in every possible color.
At the rightmost end, a crystalline table, a large gem cut into a broad horizontal surface. On the table, tools. Pieces of metal : shovels, picks, spades, hoes, sickles...
A pony, female, in front of the table. Crystalline coat, translucent, pale green. An emerald cut into the shape of a mare. A bright red tail and mane, rubies socketed on her head, waving along her neck and crowning her croup. On her flank, the picture of a whetstone. In her mouth, the blade of a scythe, the edge shining in a ray of sun. Sapphire eyes shining in turn. Behind her, a clear beige grindstone and a pile of other blades.
To the left, a barrel, cut into a clear azure crystal. A column of steam rising from inside. A big stallion next to it, large tongs gripped to his hooves, the end hidden, dug into the barrel. A thick brown apron tied around his chest. A clear coat, a pure piece of glass. Black and short mane and tail, shards of obsidian. On his haunches, the image of a hammer. Large rivulets of sweat on his brow, on his neck, on his sides. Sunlight glinting in the liquid and in his dark brown eyes.
More to the left, a large anvil, unattended. In the background behind it, a furnace. Coal, ash and metal. Black, gray and red. Tools leaning against the furnace. Tongs, shovels, pokers, all of them black and matte, coated in coal and soot.
A big bellow to the side. A mare, her hooves around the handle. Purple coat, yellow mane and tail. Amethyst and topaz. A circle of flames drawn on her flank. Red-orange reflections on her body. Light playing in the facets of her gemstone fur. Light dancing in the pearls of sweat and in her amethyst eyes.
Ahead, another anvil. A red bar of metal. A stallion rearing behind. Tall, thick neck, broad shoulders. A brown apron. Blue coat, green eyes, his mane and tail a lighter shade of blue. Lapis lazuli, jade and sapphire. Tongs to hold the glowing piece of metal, two hoops tied around his forehooves. In his muzzle, a hammer. Teeth clamped around the handle, head about to strike the bar. Glints of red light shining on his face, orange from the furnace glowing faintly through him. Purple shades, barely visible, ghostly.
To the left, another pony. Male, young. Orangey mane and tail. Grey coat. Amber and quartz. Emerald eyes. Black stains all over his body, concealing his cutie mark. Turned towards the furnace, a hoof in the air, mid-stride. On his back, a beige canvas sack, bulging from its contents. A hole near the bottom, a little piece of coal escaping. On the ground, a few other pieces drawing a path.
At the end of the track, a huge pile of coal, several shovels planted into the heap. Next to it, a small, crystalline wheelbarrow. Sun rays glinting on bars of metal, clear, smooth and shiny, ready to be forged.
At the forefront, another crystalline table. Several clear glasses, a jug. Light dancing in all directions, reflecting on the crystalline container and the water inside of it. A stallion sitting behind the table, brown coat and blond mane. His face hidden behind a rag, slick with sweat. To his side, a mare, blond coat and brown mane. Tiger's eye colors. The mare's eyes closed, sweat on her face, one rivulet going down her temples, a drop in mid-air below the end of the stream. A glass of water held in her hooves to her mouth.
Behind them, a gargantuan crystal block, completely black, almost cylindrical, but with many facets. Dull, covered in coal and soot. Near the bottom, a half pipe crystal, making an open channel and sloping down. A heavy crystal gate closing the opening at its higher end. Below, a block of crystal, also black and with a dozen empty holes. Negative ingots in the mould.
At the foot of the huge furnace, on the side, a pair of small crystalline doors, opened. A stallion, a layer of black all over his fur and hair. A few traces and red shining through the gaps. A shovel in his muzzle. Lumps of coal in the air, between the shovel and the fire. Red, orange, yellow, white, coming out of the furnace. Light attempting to color his stained face. Shadows mixing with the coal on his back. A pair of golden irises glinting brightly.
Near the top of the furnace, another stallion at the top of a ladder. White coat, golden mane and tail, a series of topazes studded into a diamond. A trio of sparks adorning his flank, a thick piece of cloth wrapped around his muzzle. The bottom side of his face shining in reddish shades from the inside of the vat. A basket in his hooves, upturned and emptied into the furnace. A large black lid, waiting to be closed. Thick smoke coming out.
At the foot of the ladder, a mare. Pale blue coat, a sapphire. Pink mane, rose quartz. Standing face to us, blocking her cutie mark. Reflections of the furnace's blaze in her hair, yellow and gold, like a miniature sun. In her coat, purple glints. Red and orange in the beads of sweat. Two red eyes, twin rubies turned towards the left. At her hooves, a basket, a piece of pitch-black metal barely poking out. A proud smile on her lips.
At the leftmost end, a large pile of dark metal. Several empty baskets at the base.
Shackles, manacles and chains.
Author's Note
I know that a forge and a foundry are not the same thing. Believe it or not, I've actually worked in a real-life forge... But this is Equestria, where everything is strange and magical... and I bet no one cares, actually.
I thought having some industrial music would be nice, but it's all so aggressive and dark... Not what I wanted for this piece. So have something funky instead. I still thinks it sounds "metallic" anyway.
So, crystal ponies. I wish we would see more of them in the show, but the backstory the writers made for them might be a bit too dark... Too bad, there's a lot of potential in there.
